icarian-carrion

[twistedappletree]

lmao so i think the other girl working for my client is about to get fired for trauma dumping and making out of pocket passive aggressive comments constantly akdnakjds why can’t anyone just be fucking N O R M A L

**also pls excuse the typos in my tags omfg i’m so annoyed that i can’t type ahahahHAHAHA

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Sugar

best friend!san x fem reader

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of

Content warnings: names (sweetheart, baby, sugar), oral (m&f receiving), choking (briefly), breeding, dacryphilia (kinda?), san’s got a big dick (what else is new) and is down horrendous for mc.

Summary: your best friend just can’t keep his hands to himself

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: hey babes! i finally finished it!!! its unpolished as fuck but it’s done!!! it’s only taken me forty-seven years 🥴 not saying this is a full comeback as i’m still dealing with some personal shit but i hope i’ll have something else for you relatively soon. anyways, pls reblog if you enjoy the story!! 🥰🫶🏻

Tags: @bahng-chrizz @foxinnie8

Smut below the cut

Most likely to remain high school sweethearts. That’s the yearbook superlative you and your best friend had been awarded your senior year of high school. The kicker? You had never dated him. The thought had just never crossed your mind. You were content being the hot best friends that everyone either wanted to get with or wanted to be. He wasn’t, but you didn’t know that.

Choi San had harbored the biggest crush on you since the two of you were fifteen. He’d gone through a hard breakup back then, his ex spreading rumors and lies all through school, and despite claiming he was fine because he was a player, he was heartbroken. He had been in love with the girl and she’d broken his heart and tried to ruin his reputation. So when you comforted him and confronted his ex, which ended in a cat fight in the hallway that got both of you suspended, he began to fixate on you. He dated around to keep his mind busy and off you, but he was infatuated with his best friend. With the girl who would throw down with anyone who wronged him.

He’d been heartbroken when he found out you were going away for college instead of staying local, even more so when he realized the school you’d chosen didn’t have the major he wanted. He was distraught at first, thinking you’d be too far apart to visit often. Every school he looked at seemed so far away from yours until he found the school where he was currently enrolled. This one was only an hour drive away from you and he was relieved to find that your schedule at your part time job still allowed for you two to take turns visiting each other every weekend.

You were oblivious to his feelings. You often noticed how he had trouble sleeping at your apartment but whenever you asked, he claimed he’d developed insomnia. He hadn’t, he just couldn’t sleep because of the thoughts that filled his mind from knowing you were in the next room. He felt guilty to be honest. He was constantly having dirty thoughts that normal people didn’t have about their best friend. Your mere presence reduced him to little more than a giddy, horny teenager.

You also noticed that he became more clingy after the two of you left for college but you never addressed that. He was always an affectionate person and adjusting to college life was definitely hard, so you figured it was probably that. That was part of it. But really, he just missed you. It was that simple. He missed his best friend and his heart leapt every time you opened your door or he opened his. Seeing your face made everything so much better.

Today was no different. He lit up like a neon sign when your door swung open to reveal you in a cropped white hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants, a bright smile on your face. “Sannie!” You held your arms open and he immediately stepped inside, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. Everything that had been bothering him up until that moment melted away as you hugged him, your grip tightening right before you stepped back. Oh how he loved your hugs.

You led him inside and motioned for him to sit on the sofa as you grabbed the bag of goodies you’d bought the night before. “I got your favorites.” You grinned as you rejoined him, opening the bag to show him the snacks, sodas, and alcohol you’d purchased. “Oh, also, my roommate is staying with her boyfriend this weekend so you can yell at the tv all you want, we don’t have to be quiet.”

He managed to conceal the excitement he felt at your words, knowing you didn’t mean what he was thinking. “Noted.” He hummed as he settled in. “Are we picking back up where we left off on that anime?”

“We can. I think we can finish the next season if we stay glued to the couch all weekend.” You hummed as you began to stage the snacks on the coffee table, only then realizing you’d forgotten glasses for the alcohol. “We can watch something else if you don’t want to watch that though. I’ve got some other streaming services if you wanna watch a drama.” You shrugged as you got up, heading to the kitchenette.

When you came back, he was sprawled out on your couch. His arms were resting on the back and he had the full man spread going on. He kind of resembled a starfish like that and you rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. You froze when he let out a low groan as he stretched, throwing his head back. Suddenly, images of you getting him off flashed in your mind. “Let’s watch that. We can watch a drama next weekend.”

You cleared your throat a bit and nodded as you recovered. “Okie dokie.” You singsonged as you joined him, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat but still leaving enough space that you didn’t have those thoughts again. Where the fuck had that come from? You grabbed one of the bags of chips and settled in, his arm sliding down from the back of the couch to rest on your shoulders as you pulled up the show.

The episode started and you opened the bag, offering it up to San, who shook his head. “I’m good right now, sugar.” You shrugged and leaned into him, pulling your legs up underneath you. He tensed when he realized he’d called you something he’d only imagined calling you but you didn’t seem to mind so he forced himself to relax.

What you didn’t address was the surge of arousal that flooded your body. You were a bitch for pet names and he knew that. You weren’t sure why you were turned on by his words, though. It was San. Sure he was beautiful but he had never affected you like this before. Clearly it had been too long since the last time you’d slept with someone.

Your eyes locked on the screen and you focused solely on that for four episodes before you became aware of the ache in your joints. You’d managed to sit perfectly still for two hours straight and now your body was screaming at you to move. You gently shrugged San’s arm off your shoulders and stood as the fifth episode began, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as you stretched your muscles and cracked every joint you could.

The sound of your voice caught San’s attention and his eyes locked on the exposed portion of your back, wondering what it would feel like to press kisses there. Should I try and find out? Absolutely not. Why the fuck would you even think about that? Fucking dumbass. He shook his head and let out a sigh just as you turned to ask him if he needed anything from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” You asked softly, noticing how irritated and distressed he looked.

“Huh?” His head snapped up and his jaw dropped slightly before he recovered. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He gave you a warm smile and you responded with a confused but playful wrinkle of your nose before heading off to grab a water. That was fucking close.

You opened the bottle and took a big gulp as you reentered the room, finding him sitting up properly now. He patted the spot next to him and you plopped down beside him, leaning back into his side, this time with your back to him. You brought your feet back up on the couch and took his hand, guiding his arm around your neck in a hug and tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

As you once again became enthralled with the show, his fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on the side of your neck. You shuddered at his touch every few minutes but didn’t register any of it as you focused on the tv. You whined a little when he moved his arm back to the back of the sofa but didn’t protest further, too invested in the show to care too much. You shifted to rest your head on San’s lap, grabbing one of the throw pillows to lay on.

With you stretched out like this, San was struggling to focus on the show. He was fixated on your exposed belly and began to discreetly drop his arm off the back of the couch towards your waist. He bit his lip as his hand made contact with your warm flesh, trying to appear focused on the show like you. You glanced up at him and took a moment to admire the view of his jawline before poking his chin. He looked startled and almost guilty when his gaze met yours. “What’s up with you today?” You asked in a teasing tone. “You seem extra cuddly and touchy-feely.”

“What, I can’t be touchy-feely with my best friend?” He grinned down at you and something in you shifted. “I just missed you. We used to see each other every day and for the last two years we’ve only been able to see each other on weekends.”

“Simpler times.” You sighed and turned your attention back to the screen, not bothering to move his hand. It felt nice.

He was surprised that you hadn’t swatted him away but he certainly wasn’t about to complain when you were delicately tracing shapes on the back of his hand. His heart was pounding and he was thankful you hadn’t continued with that line of questioning because he wasn’t sure if he could form a coherent sentence at this point. He should’ve known better than to start to get comfortable though. The second his hand wandered a bit higher, you grabbed his wrist and he froze. Fuck.

“That’s more than touchy-feely, San, that was almost my titty.” You didn’t appear to move your attention from the tv but all you could think about was just how close his hand was to your chest. What had gotten into him? And why were you so affected by his touch? You were just friends…right?

“Oh…sorry.” He mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant despite his internal panic. You didn’t buy it though and looked up at him again, taking note of his flaming cheeks. Cute.

“Seriously, San, what’s actually going on with you?” You hated how harsh your voice came out. You hated the way he flinched at your words. You weren’t trying to scold him, you wanted to put out feelers.

“Nothing.” He shook his head and refused to look at you. You thought for a moment before biting your lip. You clearly didn’t buy it and wanted to ask if he was thinking what you were so suddenly thinking. You were about to speak up when he continued. “I’m just tired. Come cuddle.” He opened his arms.

“Tired already?” He nodded. “Must suck to be any woman you fuck.” You snorted.

“I’ll have you know I have excellent stamina, thank you.” He fired back instantly and you laughed. There he was.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, gramps.”

“Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” You were almost taken aback at his tone, as you’d only heard him use it when he was actively trying to bed someone.

“San-” He just laughed and shook his head as if to assure you he was only teasing. Somehow that bothered you more. Desire had already begun to pool between your legs. You gave a little huff and released his wrist, which you’d been holding this whole time, abruptly sitting up as you swatted his hand away. You turned to look at him as the pillow you’d been resting on toppled from his lap, exposing the semi he was rocking. So he actually did want you. “Yeah, actually, it is.” He sat in stunned silence and you bit the inside of your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, only speaking once you had successfully concealed your grin. “What? Did you think I’d get flustered and back off?” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, your tone almost mocking.

“Yeah, kin-”

“Cute.” You cut him off and placed a hand on his thigh as you leaned towards him, your gaze flicking towards his lips for a brief moment before lifting back to his eyes, which still refused to actually look at you. “Tell me, Sannie, how long did it take you to work up the courage to try and feel me up?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh come on.” You rolled your eyes, your hand trailing a bit higher on his thigh as your voice dipped a bit. “You’re already half hard, clearly you were trying to get something out of me.” He squirmed at both your words and your touch, suddenly trying to squeeze his thighs together as he avoided eye contact in favor of staring at your hand, which he felt was far too close to his crotch for him to properly think.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before you spoke up again. “It’s never crossed my mind before, but now that I’m thinking about it, there’s so many things I could do to you, Sannie.” You whispered as you moved your hand away from the swell in his gray sweats and moved to straddle his lap. “What do you think? Should I?” You rolled your hips, grinding against his hard on, and he nodded far too quickly for his liking.

“Please do…” He whispered back, finally meeting your eyes. “Anything you want. ‘M all yours.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just referring to the current moment but you weren’t in any state to be asking for clarification.

You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the ramifications of fucking your best friend but you would have to deal with that later. The ache between your legs required immediate attention. You carded your fingers through his hair before turning your hand into a fist and tugging his head back. Your other hand rested on his neck as you caught his lips in a demanding kiss. The whimper that slipped past his lips went straight to your pussy and you shivered, leaning into his touch when his hands moved to your ass.

He was short circuiting. He was finally getting the chance to touch you and you weren’t pushing him away. In fact, you were the one initiating it. He licked over your bottom lip but you refused him entry, taking the chance to nibble on his lip instead. He gasped against your lips and you smirked, subconsciously tightening your grip on his hair.

“I never pegged you as the submissive type, Sannie.” You teased and he frowned against your lips, clearly pouting. Despite being a switch, he was more dominant than submissive. He was just following your lead because he’d dreamt about this for ages and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to you. I’ve been told I’m almost too gentle.”

He whined at your ribbing and you chuckled softly as you pulled back, moving to sit on the floor between his legs. His eyes followed your every movement. You sat on your knees and pushed his oversized tee up a bit to admire his toned stomach before hooking your fingers in the waistband of his sweats. You tugged them down, his now-fully-hard cock springing free and slapping against his belly. “No underwear? Must’ve been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

“No, actually. I just rarely wear them.” He rolled his eyes and you made a face. He seemed to be getting bolder and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You were having fun with him. If he decided to take over…well, you doubted that would happen but you might have a brat on your hands.

You didn’t respond, just finished pulling his pants to his ankles, took his dick in your hand, and licked the head. His head tipped back as he let out a surprisingly deep groan and your previous visions came rushing back to you. He looked and sounded just as pretty as you imagined when you took him in your mouth.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n…” He groaned, one hand moving to rest on his belly, holding his shirt up while the other curled into a fist on the sofa. You hummed at his reaction and continued, taking him as far as you could manage. You gagged a little around him and he hissed, his hips jerking a fraction of an inch before he could stop himself. “S-sorry. ‘M sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to.”

You giggled softly at his apology and he bit his lip, looking down at you. You bobbed your head as your gaze met his and he damn near lost his mind. You looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth. He wanted the image burned in his memory for the rest of his life. Who knew when or if he���d get the chance to do this again?

Given how you responded to his accidentally fucking your face, he decided to experimentally roll his hips. He almost met God when the tip slipped down your throat and you gagged around him, swallowing harshly as you tried but failed to relax your throat. You’d never deepthroated before and it showed as you tried to recover, tears filling your eyes and quickly overflowing to your cheeks. He gently pulled you off and wiped your cheeks, cooing at you as you coughed. “Breathe for me, sugar.” You nodded and took a deep breath, letting him dry your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me to do that. Are you okay?”

You nodded again and offered a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna go full send and hurt you or-”

“I’m fine, Sannie. I promise.” He finally nodded after a few beats of silence and you tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him for a moment. “Now, what’s with the name? You said it earlier too.”

He looked panicked at first before a grin crept onto his face. “Well, I would call you honey since you’re so sweet, but I feel like that’s a bit overdone, don’t you agree?” You shrugged in agreement and he leaned down, taking your jaw in his hand and jerking you closer. He was a breath away and you were going haywire. “I wonder if your personality is all that’s sweet.”

“What are you saying?” You asked quietly, surprising both of you at just how quickly you’d folded with a single rough touch. So much for him not taking over.

“I wanna taste you, y/n.” He moved to whisper in your ear and your breath hitched. “Every. Single. Inch.” He punctuated his words by kissing and licking up the side of your neck, then biting down softly on your earlobe and drawing out a tiny whimper.

You squeezed your thighs together and closed your eyes for a moment. You grounded yourself with a deep breath before opting to respond by simply tugging at his cock, teasing the head with your thumb. The groan he let out scratched an itch in your brain you never knew existed and his grip on your jaw grew tighter as he inhaled your scent.

“Get up.” You blindly followed his command, standing when he backed away. He didn’t speak as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and stood with you, hauling you over his shoulder before starting for your room. You squeaked in surprise but didn’t fight, a smile creeping across your face.

You couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped out when he kissed your side. It shouldn’t have tickled as much as it did.

San had an idea of the things you liked, you’d both talked about your escapades enough, so it came as no surprise to you when he gently placed you on your feet only to grab you by the throat and push you back onto the bed. Still, a thrill ran through your body as you wrapped your hands around his wrist. You sucked in a gasp just before he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, your eyes rolling back.

You felt his breath on your face as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Your hands left his arm and moved to his shirt, pulling him as close as possible. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slowly relieved the pressure on your throat, allowing blood flow to return to normal and give you a head rush. You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close when he started to pull away.

“I’ve always wanted to do that…” His voice was a low rumble that made your panties uncomfortably wet. “Always wanted to try everything you mentioned being into. The choking, the biting, the breeding…everything.”

If you weren’t aware of your panties sticking to your folds before, you were after that. “Please do.” You exhaled, trying to pull him back in even as he righted himself between your legs. “All of it. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He raised an eyebrow as his hands moved to rest on your hips and you nodded. “Anything?”

“Anything.” You nodded again and bit down on your bottom lip when he rocked his hips, the blunt head of his cock smearing precum across your yoga pants as he rubbed against you. “Please…”

He didn’t speak as his hands slid up your sides, fingers inching under the hem of your hoodie and ghosting over your cool skin. He reached higher still until his hands cupped your breasts. “No bra? Must've been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh as the conversation from only a few minutes prior repeated itself. “No, actually. I just rarely wear one.”

“Take it off.” He groaned in response, pushing your hoodie up so your chest was entirely exposed. You sat up, which took a bit of effort given your legs were draped over his thick thighs, and pulled the surprisingly-thin material over your head. He immediately knocked you back and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, propping on one arm while his free hand wandered along your belly.

Your arms wrapped around him, one hand moving to his back while the other tangled in his faded pink locks. He’d dyed his hair magenta a few weeks back and it had since lost its vibrancy - though not before staining a few towels and his pillowcase. You gave his hair a gentle tug and he groaned into your mouth, sending a wave of electricity down your spine.

He began to trail kisses along your jaw and neck as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb swiping back and forth over your nipple. You pushed your chest into his touch, head tipping back as your back arched. Your breath hitched when he brought his kisses to your chest, lips encasing your nipple as his tongue flicked back and forth. “Sannie-” You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. His hand gave your other breast equal attention, lightly pinching and rolling your nipple before swapping sides.

You couldn’t say you’d ever been curious about what it would be like to sleep with San but you were certain his skills would exceed his reputation if he already had you drenched with minimal effort. You wondered if he could feel the wet patch between your legs, starting to soak through your yoga pants.

He could. He found himself eager to bury his head between your legs despite being determined to take his time with you. He worried he’d disappoint you if he moved too quickly but he still began his descent, peppering sloppy kisses down your belly as his fingers hooked in your waistband. He took your pants and panties both in one go as he moved off the bed. You didn’t miss his sharp inhale.

“Y/N…” Your face flushed red as he knelt between your legs, gaze locked on your glistening cunt. You wanted to tell him not to stare, to urge him along, but you couldn’t seem to break your silence. Finally, you lifted your head and he met your eyes, his own eyes widening in something akin to adoration, though more intense. “Is this all for me, sugar?” There was that name again. You nodded eagerly but he shook his head. “Words.”

You frowned a bit, annoyed that he was making you speak up when he could just take one look at you and know. Of course, you knew he wouldn’t give in so you gave a soft whine before speaking. “Yes, Sannie, it’s all yours.”

You didn’t know why you were so against speaking up. The sound he made the second you did respond made you clench around nothing. He noticed, of course, and let out a low groan as he hooked your legs over his shoulders and kissed your thigh. “May I touch?”

“Please do.” You whispered and caught your lip between your teeth.

He continued to litter your thighs with messy kisses and soft bites as his fingertips teased their way up to your pussy, never once breaking eye contact. Your head fell back to the sheets as soon as you felt him run a finger through your folds, gathering up some of your arousal. He moved torturously slowly, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit before easing one digit into you.

“You’re drenched, baby…” His voice, though painfully sexy, was full of wonder and amusement.

“Your fault…” You mumbled and he chuckled softly.

One finger wasn’t enough. You needed more. He could tell and you felt him smirk against your skin as he curled his finger. You let out a soft sigh at the action but he wasn’t satisfied and so he added another finger, and another when you still didn’t give him the response he wanted.

“Fuck this cunt’s gonna feel so good-” He sighed.

Now three fingers deep, he began his search for your g-spot. It didn’t take him very long if your embarrassingly loud moan was anything to go by. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned, suppressing another sound when you clenched around his fingers. “You like it when I call you pretty? Or was it ‘baby’?” He teased.

“Both.” It was all you could muster as he leaned in and flicked his tongue over your clit. You immediately brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your sounds but he pulled back and nipped at your thigh.

“Let me hear.” At that point, you had no fight left in you. You just wanted him to touch you and you’d do anything to get your way. You gave a nod, a small ‘okay’ slipping from your lips, and he slowly leaned back in, lips closing around your clit. He sucked and you let out a soft curse, bringing your hands to your chest to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts. He groaned in appreciation and set a slow pace, working you up with his fingers while his tongue traced different shapes over your clit.

You suddenly felt ridiculous for never having wondered if he truly lived up to his reputation. He was proving to you just how good he was and you were cursing yourself for never having thought about having his head between your legs. “Sannie- oh-” You keened, one hand flying to tangle in his hair once more as he pressed against your g-spot at the same time as he sucked on your clit. You wouldn’t last long like this. He was too good.

Your toes curled as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his tongue dipping into you occasionally in place of his fingers. Your muscles ached with the tension that was building but you knew you wouldn’t be relaxed until he made you cum. Hoping to encourage him to get you off faster so he’d fuck you, you began babbling praises, only inflating his ego.

He made sure you felt his appreciative groan before pulling back for a quick breath then diving back in, tongue flicking with vigor. His cock throbbed as he inhaled your scent and his eyes rolled back briefly. He wanted more of you. All of you. So when you announced you were close, he backed away entirely and smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

“Sannie, what the fuck?” You whined indignantly, lifting your head when he sat up between your legs.

“Decided I want you to cum on my cock instead.” He shrugged, moving up the bed to catch your lips in a kiss. You were surprised by how sweet the kiss was considering how feral he’d just been acting over your pussy but you welcomed it, tugging him closer with a soft groan as you tasted yourself.

“So fuck me then.” You whispered between kisses, lapping your juices off his lips a moment later. The whole scenario was filthy and intoxicating.

“You mean like this?” He grunted as he slid into you with ease. Your jaw dropped and you gasped at the stretch. He fit perfectly, like you were made for each other - a thought that both terrified and intrigued you. He wasted no time in setting a slow, deep pace, each thrust driving you up the bed with the force.

“Just like that, Sannie.” You nodded furiously, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while your other hand twisted the sheets by your head.

San was on another planet. He finally had you. You, the girl of his dreams ever since he was fifteen. He was finally fully sheathed inside your warmth and he never wanted to leave. He’d give anything to stay with you.

He hadn’t intended to babble that out loud and realized his error when you responded.

“Yeah? Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Then fuck me harder and treat me like the most precious thing you’ve ever held.”

It was an easy ask. He had no problem cherishing you. Even as his hips began to snap harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, he showered you with kisses and words of adoration. “So fucking good, baby. Do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted to feel this perfect little pussy? To make you fall apart on my cock?”

“Tell me, Sannie. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”

“God- ever since we were in school. It was so hot the way you fucked her up for hurting me and I’ve wanted you ever since.” His admission sent a thrill rushing through you and you clenched involuntarily, earning a low groan from him.

“And you held it together for that long? Fuck, Sannie, you- oh-” The tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix but it was enough to make your thighs squeeze his hips.

“Shit, baby, you keep that up and I’ll cum…”

“Then keep fucking me just like that.” You demanded, back arching as he dipped his head down to lick and suck on your chest. He caught your nipple in his mouth and allowed his teeth to graze the stiff peak, grunting against your skin when your walls fluttered in response. “Want you to cum inside as many times as you can until you make me cum.” It wasn’t a demand or a plea, it was just a simple fact but he was eager to comply with your wishes.

“Christ, y/n, you’re killing me…” San groaned, resting his forehead on your chest as his hips pistoned relentlessly. He pulled back just enough to look up at you and you could tell by his expression just how close he was. “You really want that? Want me to breed you like a good little cocksleeve and keep filling you up over and over until you fall apart for me?”

Your nod and whimper were the only convincing he needed. He let go instantly, stars dancing behind his eyes as he pumped you full of cum. This was all he’d wanted for the better part of a decade and he was on cloud nine over finally getting you.

He briefly pulled out and flipped you over, taking a moment to watch a bead of cum drip down your folds before he slammed back into you. He might regret this later given how sensitive he was but he needed to give you anything you asked for.

Your back arched as he hit your sweet spot and you let out a soft cry. “There! Just like that!”

It didn’t take long before he felt another orgasm building. He warned you and you demanded he continue, begging him to give it to you. His cock twitched and he let go at your behest, filling you all over again.

Before he was finished, he reached around to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He delighted in the squeal you let out and did it again, tears welling in his eyes from all the sensation.

“Oh god, Sannie, I’m so close!” You cried, your thighs trembling as your orgasm threatened to wash over you.

“Cum for me, sugar.” His voice was a low rumble in your ear, hoarse with unshed tears, and you couldn’t hold back. You let out another squeal as he toyed with your clit, tipping you over the edge. Your high hit you like a bus and you let out a sob of ecstasy as your pussy clamped down on San’s leaking cock.

You felt a tear fall on your back and gently pushed him back, forcing yourself to roll over. “You okay?” You asked softly as you pulled him to you, still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“‘M fucking perfect.” He offered a lazy smile as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Mm then what’s this?” You teased as you pulled back, wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Proof that I’ve met my match.” He chuckled softly and wiped his face dry. “Seriously, that was…fucking amazing.”

“It was. Can someone explain to me why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Who knows.” He shrugged and flopped down beside you, then pulled you to lay on top of him. “But I say we do this every weekend, sugar.” He laughed deeply when you swatted his chest in response but deep down you knew this was more than a one time occurrence.

[srjlvr]

[ LET’S GET MARRIED ! ] — lhs <3

PAIRING. lee heeseung!student X femreader!student !

SYN. the uni is giving away free dorms! under one condition, in order to save your desperate broke ass student’s life, you’d have to get married. and who’d be the lucky person to marry you if not your childhood friend? no feelings involved of course!…..right?

GENRE. he fell first but she fell harder, basically being in denial for feelings at first, childhood friends to a married couple, fluff fluff fluff !

WARNINGS. mentions of getting married(obv), rest of enha and lesserafim’s yunjin & chaewon are in it too, mentions on having kids(no, there will be no kids here its nothing serious!!), mentions of food, being broke because of uni student life. (pls do lmk if i missed something!) || NOT PROOFREAD AND VERY POORLY WRITTEN!!

WORD-COUNT. 5.1k+ (damn!)

NOTE. this is me being extremely sorry for not continuing my heeseung smau by releasing a heeseung oneshot yay!! i actually got the inspiration from HAPPINESS (one of my fav kdramas!) please leave some feedbacks!! i really wanna know what you thought about it<3

when you were younger, you’ve made a wishing list to you in the future, as soon as you turn an adult.

three important wishes were ;

first, never go broke while being a uni student.

second, never get married before the age of 25.

third, never ever fall in love with your best friend since childhood, aka lee heeseung.

first one is already being a huge failure. younger you would be definitely disappointed in uni student you, not that you care that much, but being a broke student sucks.

“my parents are literally about to kick me out, i get that, i’m a 22 years old uni student who’s still living up their asses, they probably want some peaceful and quiet life” you smacked your head over the lunch table, both of your friends looking at you concerned.

“maybe it’s time for you to pay for the dor-“

“never! yunjin, tell her how broke i am”

“she has like 1 dollar in her bank account, she’s still taking loans from her parents” yunjin nodded and you rolled your eyes.

“you didn’t have to go that far”

“oh i did”

“oh i know! what if you just start working?” chaewon raised her voice a bit.

“i have no time!”

“excuses excuses blah blah blah” she mocked you.

“look at heeseung for example, he works in a part time job at the convenience store right next to uni” yunjin pointed out.

you searched through the lunch hall and found the one person you’ve been looking for, lee heeseung.

you’ve been stuck to him ever since childhood, with your mothers being the biggest best friends you’ve ever seen, it was pretty hard to not see him every day in your young days.

both of your mothers even got pregnant at the same time, and gave birth around the same time, you’re two days younger than him.

your photo album is full with pictures of you and him, and so are the hanged photos on your house wall.

your mother and his mother were your biggest shippers, forcing you both to hug each other and even wear matching clothes.

your elementary school memories are filled with heeseung next to you and the whole class shipping you two.

highschool days weren’t better either, guys who wanted to try a move on you were always so scared of heeseung, they were so sure you and him are dating, with the amount of glares they got from him it was really hard to think otherwise.

your highschool crushes rejected you, always giving the excuse of not wanting to be in a relationship, hiding the fact that heeseung warned them that if they’ll say yes he’ll make sure they never see a daylight again.

he was joking, really. he’s not the violent type, and he couldn’t really explain why was he feeling so jealous whenever he saw you confessing to a guy who isn’t him.

heeseung got used to watching you from afar and protecting you, and you got used to search him everywhere you go even in crowded places and having his company ever since childhood.

“hee!” you called and waved at him, he waved at you back with a smile on his face.

“i swear if i didn’t know both of you were childhood friends i would’ve think you’re a married couple or something” chaewon rolled her eyes and you scoffed.

heeseung continued his way to his usual table with his friends.

“thinking about ways to confess your love to her?” jake smirked and heeseung shook away his thoughts.

“hm? who?” he asked.

“it’s obvious who! don’t play dumb come on!” sunghoon playfully pushed the older one.

“we’re talking about Y/N! everyone in uni are talking about you, even those who know nothing about the two of you” jay remarked.

“there’s nothing between us, we’re just friends” heeseung shrugged.

“and i’m queen elizabeth” sunoo tsked.

heeseung rolled his eyes and began to eat, “you know, even if i did have a crush on her, why would she even accept my confession?”

“ohhhh~” his friends teased.

“it’s kind of obvious she likes you, we’ve watched her ever since we became friends with you, and the way she looks at you is just different” jungwon shrugged and ni-ki nodded.

“she’s always searching you in a crowded room, as if you’re her guardian angel and she only needs you in her life in order for it to be perfect” ni-ki then stole a few bites of heeseung’s meal.

“hey! not cool” heeseung scoffed and ni-ki giggled.

“it’s not bad to have a crush on your childhood friend, you know?” jake smiled, “sometimes all you need is a miracle” jay added.

“hey, let’s go on a work search for yo-“

“no no no yunjin not you too!!” you sobbed, “i have no time to work and i need to search for the cheapest dorm, a one i can actually afford as soon as possible”

“why don’t you just go and ask heeseung for help” chaewon shrugged.

“it’s not that easy, i don’t want him to worry about it too much, he works hard for his money too” you pout and they nodded.

“by the way! how’s the money for the uni dorms is going?” jake asked heeseung who was busy fighting with ni-ki over his food.

“i’m just a few shifts away from getting enough money, i’ll ask y/n to become my roommate as soon as— what?” he noticed his friends looking at him.

“y/n and you? being roommates?” sunoo teased.

“hey, me and y/n spent all our childhood together, my house is her house and her house is mine, it has been like that for a while” heeseung sighed and they all nodded hesitatly.

“still, you said y/n’s parents told you about her not being able to pay for the uni dorms, are you really willing to pay it all?” jungwon asked.

heeseung shrugged and took a bite from his food again, “it’s either that or she’ll get kicked out by her parents”

“you really are her guardian angel” ni-ki whispered.

“good morning! you have afternoon classes today right?” your mother woke you up with a smile smeared all over her face.

“mhhm” you hummed, still trying to adjust the bright sunlight that hit your face.

“i need you to bring some medicine for ms lee! she’s been sick and i bought her some things” your mother helped you to get up and shoved you a bag, “here”

“can you please just let me get—“

“you can get ready at theirs! quickly quickly go!” she pushed you outside of your house. damn, she really does hope you’d get out as soon as possible.

she was right though, heeseung’s house is your house, and your house is his. you have a few clothes and even a toothbrush at his house and he has the same at yours, getting ready there was never a problem to you.

a walk to their house is even less than 5 minutes so you weren’t worried about someone from your neighborhood getting a jumpscare and thinking you’re some kind of a zombie.

you took out the keys and opened the door, heeseung was sitting in the kitchen and eating his breakfast.

“don’t ask, been a rough morning, where’s mom by the way?” you asked him and he pointed at her room. you got used to call his mom your mom too.

you saw her sleeping so you left the bag and the medicine next to her, leaving a note saying good morning and instructions of how to take the medicine, as if she doesn’t know all of that.

“you have afternoon classes too?” you asked heeseung while getting ready. he was in his room, lying on his bed while playing some games on his phone.

“not really, i don’t have any class today” he chuckled.

“since when don’t you have any classes today?”

“ever since i decided that im too tired to go to uni”

you rolled your eyes and threw one of the pillows at him, “don’t be stupid! get up and get ready to go!”

he giggled and shook his head, “i’m joking, i took evening classes for today”

you pressed your lips together and nodded, you don’t know why but hearing him giggling always made your heart skip a beat, but you don’t have any feelings for him, like, at all. right?

afternoon classes started and before you knew it, it was already lunch time.

“y/n! you won’t believe it!!” chaewon shout.

“what is it?” you shout at her back even though you were sitting right in front of her.

“i found you a solution! you can get a free dorm!” she shout back.

“what!” you shout.

“can you stop shouting! for god’s sake you’re literally a 1 cm away from each other” yunjin, who was covering her ears yelled.

you and chaewon shared an eye contact and froze. yunjin is so scary when she’s angry.

“continue please” she coughed and let chaewon continue what she had to say.

“it might seem crazy what i’m about to say,” chaewon sighed, “the uni is giving away free dorms—“

“no way omg omg omg please tell me i’m dreaming this is not happening right now right this is not real righ—“

“under one condition!” she cut you off and took her phone out of her pocket to read the terms.

“in order to get a free dorm, you have to have at least one option applied ;

one, you’re younger than 18. two, you’ve been scoring A+ on ALL of your exams and three, you’re between the ages 18-25 and got married, or engaged” she finished reading and turned off her phone.

“but chaewon, i’m not younger than eighteen” you complained and rest your head on your arm who was lying on the table.

“nor scoring A+ on ALL of your exams” yunjin added.

“thanks yunjin, i needed that”

“always here to help”

“then you know what’s left” chaewon smirked and you sat up, looking at her with innocent eyes.

“no” you let out.

“oh yes”

“i have no one to marry to” you argued.

“yes you do!” yunjin replied.

“i do not!”

chaewon and yunjin raised a brow and crossed their arms, “you don’t?”

as heeseung entered the uni entrance, you ran towards his direction and stopped in front of him.

“y/n why are you still here—“

“let’s get married” you said it out loud in front of everyone who was around.

your surroundings suddenly became quiet and everyone was staring at you two, starting to whisper and waiting for heeseung’s answer.

instead of answering he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the entrance into a place in the garden next to the uni.

the walk there was making you so nervous and anxious, what if you were a bit too much? asking your childhood friend to marry you just to get a free dorm? are you that desperate?

when he finally stopped, he let go of your wrist and cupped your cheeks, looking straight into your eyes.

“what did you say?” he asked, his eyes looking for any sign or answer from you.

“i said, let’s get married”

heeseung could’ve swore his heart skipped a beat because he for real felt like he died at that spot.

“let me explain!” you said before he could respond.

“the uni are giving out free dorms to anyone who’s between the ages of 18-25 and is married or engaged” you sighed.

heeseung let go of his hold and sighed, looking down and closing his eyes.

you really didn’t mean that genuinely, did you? something in him really hoped you did.

“hee?” you asked, biting your lower lips, suddenly feeling more anxious than before

“sure, let’s get married” he chuckled.

you broke your second main wish on your list.

heeseung was just a few shifts away from getting enough money to get the both of you a place to live in, he could have told you that too, but he chose not to.

only crazy people would agree to this idea, you were so desperate that you actually just asked him to marry you, and he guessed he was one of those crazy people, because he had no idea why he said yes.

he had other way, without marrying you, but something about the idea of marrying you made him feel excited.

“i knew it i knew it! only crazy people would agr— wait what” you blinked a few times after you realized his answer.

“i said sure, let’s get married” he smiled softly and you were about to faint.

“no feelings are involved….right?” you hesitantly asked him, hoping he wouldn’t agree with you.

instead, he nodded slowly and hesitantly, “no feelings involved”

you regretted that sentence so bad because the day after, when he kneeled on one knee and held a ring out for you in front of everyone and proposed to you, your couldn’t lie to yourself anymore, you actually broke your third wish on your list a few years ago, you were in love with lee heeseung for years.

“y/l/n y/n, i have loved you ever since i can remember, i watched you grow up and grew up with you as well, i got used to being with you 24/7, i can’t see the rest of my life without you in it, will you make me the happiest man alive and agree to marry me?”

even though it was an act(according to you), it felt so real to the point where you cried and sobbed so badly, while putting on the ring he bought for you less than 24 hours ago.

it wasnt planned. the proposal wasn’t planned at all.

the plan was that you and heeseung will go to the uni secretariat and request an application for the free dorm since both of you are engaged now.

heeseung had no reason to put on this whole show and show everyone that you’re now engaged. you have no idea why he did it, and instead of getting angry at him, you fell in love with him even more.

it felt wrong, it felt not right.

but you didn’t care, you always knew your feelings for heeseung were somewhere deep inside your heart. you tried to push them away all the time, because there was no way your childhood friend, the popular boy in your highschool, the kid who grew up with you, had feelings for you.

you tried to deny your feelings but now you realized thrre was no use anymore, so you let yourself love him as much as you can.

it wasn’t the desperation that lead you to ask him to marry you, because then you’d ask literally any other guy, it was your pure love to him, to the guy who was always there for you when you needed him.

“heeseung! explain what was that!” his six other friends gathered in a circle, surrounding him and not letting him go.

“what was wha—“

“you and y/n? married?” jungwon shout.

“have you gone crazy?” jake added.

“and she said yes! something is not right” jay joined.

“yesterday you told us you have no feelings for her!” sunoo remarked.

“you didn’t even believe us when we told you she’s obviously in love with you” sunghoon tsked.

“something isn’t sitting right to me” ni-ki gasped.

“explain now!” they all said at the same time.

“calm down!” heeseung coughed, “i’ll explain to you everything later”

by later he meant after classes, at his house, together with you and your friends yunjin and chaewon.

“yunjin, chaewon” heeseung nodded at your friends.

“lee heeseung” they glared at him.

“come on! both of you knew about it even before” you pleaded.

“doesn’t change the fact that he’ll be stealing you from us now” they rolled their eyes.

“i’m still so confused” ni-ki tried to quicken everyone and get to the point.

“me and y/n are getting married—“

“yeah no shit sherlock” sunghoon cute him off and heeseung glared at him.

“anyway, y/n would you like the explain why?” he turned to you and smiled.

“the uni is giving away free dorms to married couples between 18-25 so—“

“you decided to get married to get a free dorm” jay finished your sentence.

“have you gone mad? heeseung worked his ass to get enough money to get the dorms for the bo— mhhhhmmm!!!” sunoo roamed but jake covered his mouth before he could continue.

“sunoo!!” jake coughed and turned to you with a smile, “don’t mind him he’s been stressed from work and uni lately”

the rest of you giggled awkwardly and tried to ease the atmosphere.

after you yunjin and chaewon left, the boys stayed with heeseung, looking at him with concern.

“what?” heeseung looked at them back with his bambi eyes.

“i don’t know hee, it feels like….she’s kind of using you” sunghoon spoke, jay slapped his arm and he whined.

“he’s right though, marrying you only to get a dorm is quite crazy” jungwon nodded.

“he’s even crazier for actually agreeing to all of this” ni-ki said and jake shushed him.

“ni-ki is right, i am crazy, i have no idea why i said yes but she wasn’t forcing anything on me” heeseung shrugged, “besides, i’ve liked her for so many years so—“

“ah ha!! we knew it!” they all said at the same time and heeseung sighed. what have he got himself into?

after everyone left, heeseung texted you, asking you to meet him in your usual spot.

you got ready and for the first time, you took a while to do so.

you stared at yourself in the mirror a few times and even checked different outfits. this has never happened to you ever before, especially not when you knew that you’re going to see heeseung.

heeseung saw you at your worst, why are you dressing up for him now then?

“i must be crazy, crazy crazy!” you shook away your thoughts and got out to meet your soon-to-be-husband.

“hee!” you saw his back facing you and as soon as he turned around you froze.

did he dress up for you too? why does he look so breathtaking suddenly? his bambi eyes match the rest of his beautiful features on his face so much, you’ve seen this man grow up, you know every detail about his face and you couldn’t explain why it was so sudden that you got caught by surprise because of his beauties.

shaking away your thoughts, you walked closer to him and smiled.

“hey hubby” you grinned.

“hubby?” he asked.

“a new nickname for my soon-to-be-husband” you chuckled and he nodded.

“i actually thought about something,” he turned to you, “our parents will figure it out sooner or later, should we tell them the truth or—“

“no, let them believe we’re getting married without any reason other than being in love”

you have no idea why you just said that. but you hid your face as soon as you realized what just came out of your mouth.

heeseung felt too flattered and suddenly didn’t know what to say. you keep on making him speechless.

“ahem,” he cleared his throat, “you do know that they’ll probably rush out things and even take the wedding plan to their own hands“

i don’t care, i’d like to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you as soon as i can. is what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

“y/n?” he asked. he noticed you were too deep in thoughts and waited for you to come back to sense.

“i’m aware” you nodded, “i’ve also got a text from the uni, we’ll be getting our dorm in the next week, so we should start preparing”

heeseung nodded and looked at you. you were suddenly feeling so nervous and shy to share an eye contact with him, so you broke it as he just kept staring at you and taking in your beauty.

“hey y/n” he said, “hm?”

“i don’t mind marrying you and spending the rest of my life being married to you”

you looked over him and he had the genuinest smile you’ve ever seen.

it felt like the world had froze, and the snow that was falling suddenly stopped, it felt like it was just the two of you in this whole world.

“YOU’RE GETTING WHAT?” your mother yelled.

you and heeseung planned a dinner with both of your parents, to announce the big news.

things became quite awkward between the two of you, ever since your last encounter with him you could barely face him.

his sudden confession freaked you out and the only thing that came out of your mouth was “oh, okay” in the most dry way ever.

you wanted to tell him you feel the same, you wanted to tell him that you’ve been in love with him ever since forever. but one moment that caught you off guard ruined your chance.

you were stupid, stupid and idiot. heeseung probably thinks you hate his guts now.

heeseung in the meantime felt like he was breaking apart slowly. oh, okay?? that’s all you had to answer?

he felt dumb, he felt hopeless. the confession was completely out of the blue and unplanned, your beauty hypnotized him and he was so mesmerized by you that the words just came out of his mouth naturally.

what if you hate his guts now? what if he made you uncomfortable? what if you’ll regret it the last minute because you weren’t feeling the same about him?

all of those questions were eating him alive, and you didn’t help either. each time he came up to you, you were suddenly in rush and told him you have to go, it was breaking him inside slowly.

the dinner was one chance to finally talk with you again.

“married, mom. we’re getting married” you repeat what you already said a few seconds ago.

“when? where? how?” heeseung’s mother asked.

heeseung looked at you and smiled warmly, “it just happened, we’ve been together ever since childhood, it already felt like being in a relationship for so long, so we decided to marry each other” he chuckled and held your hand tightly, “to belong to each other until the day we die”

your parents looked at the both of you. you were sharing eye contact for so long, with heeseung smiling at you, looking deep into your eyes, and with you looking at him with nothing but pure love in your eyes that was making everyone in the room feel so jealous of you two.

“now kiss!” your mother said.

you and heeseung broke the eye contact and blinked a few times.

“what?” you asked.

“kiss then! i want to picture it and keep it in my photo gallery forever!” his mother added.

you were about to speak up until heeseung held your cheek to turn you to face him and it was only a matter of seconds until you felt his lips on yours.

it was your first kiss ever, your first time kissing someone, and it was his as well, but he lead you on so good that it made it look less awkward.

you were his first kiss. you, his childhood friend, stole his first kiss.

“we knew that it’ll happen one day!!” your mothers cheered, “we even have a whole wedding plan ready!!”

you and heeseung broke the kiss and shared an eye contact again.

you didn’t need to hear him say to know how much love he holds for you, and how he cherishes you so much.

and your eyes told him everything, they held the answers to all of the questions that bothered him. you love him as much as he loves you.

“i can’t believe you’re getting married, my little angels” your parents cried altogether which made heeseung let go of his hold on you and grab some tissues to wipe their tears.

“i love that ring by the way! heeseung you did a great job” your mother gave him thumbs up and he chuckled.

if only she knew that it was a ring he bought you in less than 24 hours and even rushed your friends to come with him and help him pick it only because he wanted his whole life to properly propose you.

it was a moving day already and your parents helped you pack every last thing, they even cried through the way, how could their princess leave them so fast?

“you can visit our house anytime!” you tried to comfort them.

“we’ll update you before that, we don’t want to catch you while doing the thing you know” your mother winked and you rolled your eyes, “mom!”

“i see you’re all packed and ready” heeseung came in to check on you.

“she is! take her away already!” your mother complained.

“not before you take this with you!” she went away for a few seconds and came back with a huge wrapped photo frame.

“don’t open it yet!! only when you get into your new house and get everything in place!!” she excitedly hugged the both of you and you nodded.

moving in was quite rough, you had a lot of boxes to unpack and organized, and you and heeseung never felt more awkward after the first kiss you shared.

you’ve barely spoke with each other and your friends were starting to get concerned.

“he told me he doesn’t mind marrying me and spending the rest of his life with me” you pout.

yunjin and chaewon shout and giggled, “girl! he’s more than in love with you!! he’s lovesick!!” they both said.

“what did you answer then?” yunjin asked.

“i told him okay” you smacked your head on the table.

“no way” chaewon gasped.

“yes way” you whined.

“you’re stupid!!” they both smacked you.

“then!!” you shout, “we had our first kiss on dinner in front of our parents” you whispered that part.

“what did you say? couldn’t hear you” chaewon said.

“oh she said that they shared their first kiss on dinner with their— YOU HAD YOUR FIRST KISS WITH HEESEUNG??” yunjin’s eyes widened.

“what happened after that?” chaewon asked curiously.

“we just finished dinner, and now we barely even talk” you sighed, “each time i see him i’m just blushing and running away, i can’t face him!”

“you have to!! you’re moving in soon!!” yunjin argued and chaewon nodded.

“it’ll be the death of me” you sobbed and they chuckled.

you were right at first, but slowly and surely heeseung made a joke and both of you got back to normal in no time, as if nothing happened between you two.

you even helped him organizing his closet and his room, and he did the same.

after a long day you and heeseung finally laid down on your now shared sofa.

“it’s been a rough day” you sighed.

“should we order something?” he suggested and you nodded immediately. you ended up ordering your favorite food.

“let’s open up the picture!!” you said and grabbed the picture your mom gave you earlier today.

you and heeseung both unwrapped it together and revealed an old picture of you and heeseung hugging each other with a huge smile on your faces.

“look at us then and look at us now” he giggled.

both of you hanged the picture right above your sofa and kept staring at it for a while.

“hey hee,” you spoke, “yeah?”

“i wouldn’t mind marrying you and spending the rest of my days with you too” you turned to him, “until the day i die”

“is that your way of telling me you love me too?” heeseung froze for a second. you caught him off guard for the countless time already.

although he understood very clearly your feelings after you shared your first kiss, hearing your words made his heart beat fast.

it was a confirmation for him that all of his feelings for you were actually mutual all this time.

instead of answering his questions you grabbed his shirt and kissed him.

he put his hands around your waist and pushed you closer to him, holding you tightly as if he’s too scared to let you go.

breaking off the kiss was hard, but the lack of oxygen was kicking in, you pressed your foreheads together, still with your eyes closed.

“does that answer your question?” you giggled and you felt him smiling.

“i don’t think so, i need a bit more of it to feel certain” he teased and you tsked.

“i don’t need to be in a relationship with you to feel certain about my feelings and my willingness to marry you, i want to spend my life with you, i love you” you said and pecked his lips.

“i love you too, y/n” he pecked your lips again and it suddenly got into a fight between you two about who pecks the other more, until it ended up in a long, deep kiss.

“so let me get this straight. you and heeseung had been in denial for many many years and manipulated yourself into thinking that you don’t like each other at all at all, then when y/n’s desperate and broke ass heard of a chance to get a free dorm by getting married, she went up to you, heeseung, and asked her to marry you, you agreed to the proposal because at one point you stopped lying to yourself and realized you’re actually lovesick, and the rest is history” ni-ki finally breathed out after almost rapping this whole story.

“by history i mean y/n waking up from her denial and realizing her feelings to you” he added.

“yes, exactly” heeseung nodded and you chuckled.

you were sitting together with your friends on one table, yunjin and chaewon who were already aware of the story added a few notes here and there as ni-ki summarized your whole story.

“this is a story to tell your children” jay smiled and the rest nodded.

“we’re not planning to get pregnant anytime soon, we didn’t even have a wedding yet” you sighed.

“you never know y/n, you never know!” sunoo slowly nodded.

“why did you say that as if you went through something familiar” jungwon teased.

“you never know y/n, you never know!” sunghoon mocked sunoo.

“that was a good one!” jake laughed with him.

“children, literal children who found themselves in uni somehow” you sighed.

“at this point we won’t even need to have any children when we have them” heeseung agreed with you.

“it doesn’t matter, as long as i’m with you” you smiled and pecked his lips.

“get a room you two will you!”

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v (bold means cannot be tagged)

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[facefullofsadness]

she said "fuck me like I'm famous" I said "okay"

model!au

designer!giselle x assistant!reader

prompt - working as aeri uchinaga's assistant makes it hard for you to keep up, maybe in more ways than one

content - smut (power dynamic, pet names/praise kink, sloppy and desperate kinda rough sex, a lot of sucking (fingers, boobs, necks/marking), fingering, tribbing, possessive/corruption kink, a little hair pulling, squirting, multiple rounds/orgasms), alcohol consumption, exposition and tension building

wc - 8165

a/n - I was held at GUNPOINT to write "nda giselle" so here we are! worked diligently on this one so pls enjoy it o7!!! (please dear god I'm begging you)

- consider it my 800 follower special (even though I was supposed to write a 500 follower one but here we are <3, tysm for everything)

- OH MY GOD IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR A MONTH IM FREE

- additionally, dopamine is sooooo this fic coded but it's UNRELEASED YEW MFS SM ENTERTAINMENT I HATE YOU-!

an overwhelming rush of noise fills my ears as soon as I enter the busy dressing room.

I knew working as famous model and designer aeri uchinaga's assistant was gonna be loaded, but my first day on the job being the same day as one of miss uchinaga's bi-annual fashion show was not expected. I had to push through an uncountable amount of stylists, designers, assistants, coordinators, and makeup artists to make it to miss uchinaga's personal private dressing room, which was crowded in it of itself, even if she was the only model in that room.

she's famous for having the most grand fashion shows, especially the shows showcasing her summer and winter collections which she hosts twice every year for her designer brand, one around the start of the summertime, and one before the winter season, such as this one today. she spends months preparing for it every year, so it's even a wonder how it was possible for me to show up out of the blue so suddenly, literally on the day of one of the most important days of her year.

"you, rookie, did you bring the earrings set I asked of you?" the assertive voice of a man working on sorting through jewelry asks me, not even looking up from his work.

I stumble through the crowd of people to get to him, fishing the small box containing the earrings out of my bag.

"yessir, I fetched them this morning," I hand him the jewelry. he hums, snatching the box out of my hand to check the contents, continuing on with his sorting without even looking up at me.

"hey you, did you coordinate with the production crew about the lights? those things are important," a woman with a headset and a clipboard approached me.

"ah yes miss, they said they'd readjust the color to a cooler tone," I reply, nodding my head.

"good," a simple response before turning away and scurrying off.

"where's that fucking assistant- you! are you miss uchinaga's assistant?" an aggressive voice calls out for me near the vanity table.

I whip my head around and hurry over, "yessir, I'm her new assistant!"

he groans in annoyance and side eyes me, "whatever, took you long enough. get the hairdryer quickly we don't have all day."

I nod furiously before searching the room overloaded with items for said hairdryer, looking through the cart of hair and makeup equipment.

I hurried back to him and handed over the instrument before commotion increased, a firm and loud voice announcing, "miss uchinaga to proceed with hair and makeup!"

suddenly, the aforementioned lady herself exits a black curtain from across the room, adorning a beautiful black dress that hugs her figure perfectly, lacey sleeves flowing down her arms, her curves accentuated gorgeously.

a lump gets stuck in my throat as she sways her way towards the director's chair propped in front of the vanity. I lower my gaze and bow my head slightly as she passes by me, the breeze that follows her strut hitting my frozen-still body and making my breath hitch in anxiety. she comfortably sits herself down in the black chair, barely noticing my presence.

"hellooooo? rookie? get a fucking grip!" a female voice snaps me out of my trance accompanied by loud clapping in front of my face. "pay attention! can you get the goddamn hand mirror?"

"yes of course, I'm sorry miss!" I nervously pick at my fingers and push through the crowd again, rummaging through the cart for the item she requested.

"god how useless, why did you even choose her boss?" the same stylist gossips towards miss uchinaga.

"choose who? what are you talking about?" her graceful and soft voice replies nonchalantly.

"that nobody over there, searching through the cart like a homeless person in a dumpster, so gross..." the stylist continues, my stomach churning at the vile words.

miss uchinaga hums unsurely, "be more specific on who you're talking about, I don't have time for useless banter."

the stylist clears her throat, "your, assistant, I guess if that's what you can call whoever that thing is."

my hands clench into fists at the vicious comments she keeps making until miss uchinaga says, "she's here for a reason isn't she? means she's qualified."

the short and simple response shuts the stylist up quickly, returning to her work. I reluctantly hand the mirror over to her, her grip aggressive as she snatches the item from my hand. and I continue to meet the demands of the people in the busy room, running back and forth fetching things for people and assisting in helping everyone as best as I could.

it had to have been at least two hours of constant movement and working, everyone in that room not stopping for even a second. eventually, all the work that needed to be done was finished and we all had to proceed to the stage and start the show. I was tasked to stay behind and wait for miss uchinaga as her assistant, ready to help her with anything she needed.

and so gradually, the room had cleared of all the people, leaving an unfamiliar silence to hang in the air, my ears almost ringing from the emptiness. I stood there nearly in the middle of the room, feet glued to the floor and my head hanging down, eyes affixed onto my shoes. only but the soft rustling movement of the woman in front of me was faintly heard.

her melodious humming filled the room warmly, a comfortable tune dancing off her lips as she touched herself up and checked her appearance. I continue to accompany her and leave her to do her own thing, more focused on the carpet under where I stand.

"hey, come here will you?" the soft sounding but firm request summons me forward, moving to stand behind her chair.

"m-miss uchinaga?" I curse under my breath at the stutter, embarrassed by it.

she seemingly dismisses the mistake and continues, "you're my new assistant, aren't you?"

I gain enough confidence to lift my gaze and look at her through the mirror, the woman still diligently observing herself, "yes miss, I am."

"what's your name then assistant?" she fixes her hair one last time and adjusts her jewelry before turning and facing me, leaning back against the vanity with her arms crossed.

"y/n l/n miss..." my gaze falters under her intense stare, eyes falling towards the floor again.

her hum in curiosity makes my eyes shoot back up towards her face.

"huh." she hums, observant gaze trailing my figure, up and down slowly.

I feel small under her stare, wanting to curl up and let the earth swallow me whole, feeling like aeri uchinaga is tearing me apart bit by bit with her critical eyes.

instead, a small but obvious smirk tugs at her lips, "cute."

a furious blush climbs my cheeks and spreads across my face at her quick insignificant comment that still had made my heart swell and increase the speed at which it beat.

before any more words could be exchanged, she pushes herself off the table, handing her phone and keys to me, "you're with me, stand backstage and just watch, drive me home after."

I put her items into my bag and nod, following her out of the room and towards the stage. a cacophony of sounds fill the room once again as we hurriedly make our way there, people scrambling around with last minute touch-ups on their models.

the production crew checks in with miss uchinaga, confirming the setup of the stage from the lights to the props, as well as the flow of the show and every other detail she demanded information on. I stand right behind her and listen in, making sure if she needs anything I'd be ready to assist. they finish their discussion swiftly, the crew rushing back to their stations and miss uchinaga ushering the two of us towards an empty area with a clear view of the stage, the audience members sitting around and chatting having been in sight as well.

"you get the princess treatment for today pretty," she turns to me, a pleased look on her face.

the clutch on my bag hardens at her soft words, feeling my face heat up, "th-thank you, miss uchinaga…"

"y/n, call me aeri," her voice is gentle but low as she tells me what to do.

I stutter in response, "but, miss uchinaga, I'm- I'm not… I don't think it's that appropriate y-yet…"

"please y/n, we're gonna be together for a while so you should get used to saying my name, darling," she takes the smallest step towards me, her presence towering over me.

I feel her stare drill holes into my soul, her intimidating aura overwhelming me. she traps me when I look up into her eyes, unable to move my sight away from her. my stomach fills with butterflies, the beautiful goddess before me having such an alluring air to her. even in this crowded venue, filled to the brim with busy people, they're all tuned out, feeling like me and her were the only two to exist in this moment.

fuck, how am I supposed to work with her?

"got that, cutie?" the pet names continuing to make me want to implode.

I swallow and nod pathetically, "mhm."

"say my name then, pretty," she demands, her siren-like eyes searing my skin.

"a-aeri…"

"good girl, y/n."

oh my god, what the fuck.

"miss uchinaga!" a voice calls for her, snapping me out of the trance she put me under.

the woman in front of me huffs and turns towards the man with a headset that had poked his head into the room, searching for her.

"miss, you're on soon," he pants, motioning for her to get moving.

she raises her eyebrows and nods slightly at him in approval, shooing him away before she turns back to me.

"enjoy the show okay?" her tone is calm and comforting, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder and patting me, giving it a final squeeze, strutting away after I nod my head at her request.

the clicking of her heels fades and once she's completely out of sight, I release a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. I clutch at my heart, bunching up the material of my sweater, feeling it beat out of my chest. my head is dizzy and my shoulder burns, the effect and touch she had on me still lingering, feeling my knees buckle at the mere thought of her, leaning back against a nearby wall for stability.

though I didn't have long to recover as the lights on the stage dimmed and the runway lit up, whispering from backstage heard faintly as music starts, the first model swaying their way onto the catwalk. I try my best to ignore the pounding of my heart as aeri uchinaga's winter collection is displayed on the models that walk across the stage.

the outfits are beautiful, stylish coats and jackets adorning the range of models, the clothes all dark colors but still with a certain attractive charm. arrangements of sweaters, slacks, and bags that compliment every outfit perfectly, each piece meticulously and specifically picked out to match each other. I'm mesmerized by the variety of fashion that these models are crowned in, aeri and her team's hard work apparent with the quality and effort put into every thread.

I become so engrossed and enamored by the show, that as soon as it starts does it end, the last of the models strutting off the stage finally as the winter collection showcase concludes. the music continues however, aeri suddenly appearing, swaying her way into the middle of the runway as the audience applauds. her ethereal aura palpable, presence so grand even while she's simply walking. making it to the center, she gives the audience a graceful bow, a charming smile, and an elegant wave before turning and sashaying off the stage once again.

mid my own applause does aeri emerge from the curtain separating me and the main part of the backstage area, pushing her curtain bangs out of her face with her fingers.

"how was it, princess?" she asks genuinely, tilting her head to the side as she awaits my answer.

my heart begins to pound once again, feeling like she really wanted to hear my honest opinion.

"not that how I think matters-" she immediately interrupts me.

"why wouldn't it? you're practically becoming my second-in-command, I wanna know how you think, see how truly compatible we are."

a sweet smile emerges onto her cherry colored lips, eyes and expression expectant for my response.

I nervously reply, "that's... really thoughtful of you, a-aeri."

her soft giggle permeates through the small space, my chest thumping at the sound, "don't mention it, just tell me how you feel."

"well, I think it was truly excellent," I state confidently.

her face looks pleased, but she looks as if she was waiting for more details, and so I continue, "the color palate was so tasteful, you and the brand have always been good at darker colors, I know that's your specialty. though they can be perceived as dull, it was so masterfully crafted that it didn't feel boring in the slightest. it was even elevated if I can say, accessories perfectly matching with each outfit, from the jewelry to the bags, incredible."

I got so lost in my enthusiasm about the display that I had practically spaced out, unaware to the joyous woman in front of me. looking back at her, an excited expression lay on her face, cheeks plump and smile wide watching as I rambled. her crescent eyes smiled at me, hair falling perfectly around her face and resting at her shoulders, just so beautifully happy.

feeling flustered, I stutter, "oh! I uhh, didn't mean to ramble so much, miss uch- a- aeri... I apologize."

"don't, I like it," whispering simply.

under her heart-throbbing stare, I look away, "we-well! we must get going, there's still your after party to attend."

she groans, "ughhh, fuck the after party, I don't care. too tired anyway, bossing people around all day to get things right is exhausting."

I return my gaze back towards the bored-looking woman, "but this is still your event, it might be strange if you're absent."

"why, are you gonna stop me? hm doll?" her eyes are lethal staring into me.

"m-miss... all I'm saying is the people might be disappointed... I can't stop whatever you'd like to do however, you're the boss of course..."

"mhm, and don't forget that okay? you listen to me," aeri's tone is firm and dangerous, dripping with authority but also sensuality, suddenly appearing almost right against me.

she crosses an arm over her chest and rests her other arm's elbow on it, her free hand slowly pointing a finger at my wide-eyed expression.

"got that, darling?" she uses the stray digit to tilt my head up, placing it under my chin, her touch igniting a fire on my skin.

I pathetically hum in response, sounding closer to a terrified squeak more than anything.

"you listen so well, don't you?" she smiles almost sinisterly, taking her fingertip and tapping it cutely on my nose.

she steps back slightly, giving me space again to which I release a deep breath, feeling like I can breathe.

aeri sighs annoyedly, "but you're right, my absence at my OWN show's after party is peculiar, but I don't wanna go. truly too exhausted for it. let's go home."

"I'll have to inform the organizers that you won't be attending. some important individuals were hoping to talk to you tonight," I respond, ever-so-slightly gaining back my composure.

"mm-mm, don't stress yourself about it," she shakes her head, resting her hands on her hips, "I'll shoot them a text and make the team send out packages with letters of me apologizing for it, no big deal."

"still aeri, I have to organize that-"

"I told you already y/n-ie, I got it, don't worry."

I let her win, a serious and unmoving expression on her face, "alright."

she gives a slight nod of approval, suddenly taking my hand gently, holding me by my fingers and leisurely dragging the two of us off. I let her guide me, aeri saying her goodbyes and goodnights to the hard-working team, telling certain individuals she would be contacting them in a bit to inform them of her absence. she leads me through the entire venue, seemingly having the most inconspicuous route to her car memorized, avoiding as many people as possible.

we arrive at the parking garage, her matte black sports car emerging into view.

"I'm driving?" I ask hesitantly.

she hums in approval, "never driven something like this before have you?"

the nervous nature apparent in my tone of voice, "that obvious?"

a giggle echoes through the garage full of expensive, high-end vehicles, "no worries darling, just think of a normal car with a bit more kick."

she was right, I had never driven such an expensive and sleek looking vehicle before, nervous to the possibility that I could damage it, especially knowing it was aeri's car.

it was almost as if she read my mind, "I have at least a handful more that you can crash, it's no problem if it gets damaged."

I choke and cough, "I'd hope I wouldn't get into a car crash!"

she turns and smiles at me, arriving in front of the vehicle, "you won't, of course you won't."

I reluctantly nod, dragging myself over and opening the passenger side's door, aeri climbing in with a small grin. I close the door, making my way over to the driver's seat, trying to breathe and calm my nerves. I settle into the custom printed leather seats, dark red embroidery stitched into the pristine interior, a fresh and clean smell wafting through the car.

"it is a ferrari though, so maybe don't damage it," she comments quietly, looking over at the woman whose legs are crossed and hands placed neatly on her lap, head leaning back against the seat with her eyes closed.

aeri is so incredibly nonchalant about the situation, it somehow comforts me, starting up the car and gaining enough courage to start driving. the trip back to her place was silent, peaceful cruising through the city, illuminated by the street lights, the two of us quiet in the car. she was right, it wasn't too bad but it felt like I could speed up and go too fast at any moment, so I tried to get a feel of how the vehicle operated, focusing on getting used to it. every other stoplight, I'd check the gps and then up at aeri, her resting figure so serene, the girl so still and pretty, unsure if she was really asleep or just resting her eyes.

her beauty is so utterly attractive and alluring, making my pulse rise every time I lay my eyes on her. what trouble will I possibly encounter working for this stunning woman? and how long will I survive?

almost in the blink of an eye, we arrive at her apartment complex. I find a parking space for the car, skipping the valet according to aeri's instruction, not wanting anyone else to touch her car. once parked, I finally let out a sigh, turning to my boss whose eyes flutter open, feeling the car's movement stop.

elegantly, like a princess, she sits upright and brushes stray hairs from her face, "home?" her voice raspy.

I nod carefully, climbing out of the car and opening her door. she tiredly stumbles out as I hold out my hand for her to grasp, taking it and stabilizing herself. her touch ignites my skin once again, her fingers lacing around mine once she's standing, shooting me a charming smile.

once again, I felt my stomach flutter, my whole body just succumbing to the ravishing woman whose hand was firmly holding mine, pulling me towards the elevator up to the penthouse. the ding of the elevator arriving and opening up to her place forced me back to reality, eyes widening at the sight of the grand residence.

walking inside and removing our heels, I got to absorb the surroundings. the motion detected light shone over us, not too bright but enough to outline the rest of the place. it was tall and spacious, high roofs supported by shiny white pillars, the wooden floors dark and clean, grand piano next to the comfortable array of sofas and armchairs, expensive accessories from the brand decorating the empty spaces on the walls, the breathtaking view over the city being the most prominent feature, large glass window panes displaying the incredible sight, leaving me in utter awe.

"like it? it's pretty nice," aeri's softly asks from beside me.

"you've got a magnificent place," I reply, still quite awestruck.

she chuckles once, letting go of my hand and walking forward, flipping the switches that dimly light up the living room in a warm tone, "you're a very honest individual, aren't you y/n?"

"is that a bad thing?" you ask, a little reluctantly, following her around.

"it's exactly the type of thing that's necessary in this industry, especially since you're working for me. honesty and transparency are some of the biggest traits I value out of my employees, within people in general really," she flips on the light switch to her big walk-in closet, "and you're my direct right hand, the most important person that I need to have be honest with me."

I stand by the door, taking in the room. it was such a large room for solely being a closet, clothes, accessories, and shoes all lined up against the walls, an almost never-ending selection presented on display. it was set-up like a designer store, except this was aeri uchinaga's own personal closet in her home.

she stood in front of a vanity area on the other side of the room, tiredly removing her jewelry from herself, hearing the metal rings clang against the marble countertop. she was quite careless with the items, throwing them off of her with little to no regard for damage, making me cringe slightly, worried they might break.

"come sit," she calls me over softly, motioning with her hand behind her towards the seating at the middle of the room.

I walk over, observing her diligently remove her earrings, sitting down with my legs crossed, once again watching her through the mirror.

"have you eaten yet, y/n?" the unexpected question startles me slightly.

"I can't remember the last time I have today," I respond honestly.

she hums, "well, let me get cleaned up and share dinner together then, shall we?"

I blink confusedly, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights at what she said.

"I need to get to know you more anyway, I think while I have you here, it's as good a time as any."

"it's quite late and you're tired, I should get going home..." I bite the inside of my cheek, her eyes staring back at me through the reflection.

"I insist," her voice is firm.

I gulp down my nervousness, nodding my head at her, aeri smiling at me, "good."

I watch as she reaches around to the zipper on the back of her dress, finished with the removal of her jewelry. her fingers struggle to get a good hold onto the metal and she calls me over.

"y/n, come help me with this zipper," aeri's firm but alluring voice demands me, urging me to walk up behind her, her back filling my view.

I swallow down a lump in my throat as my shaky hands reach up towards the metal resting at the top of her back. I grip the zipper and slowly pull downwards, being careful not to drag too quickly or damage the material of the designer dress. I feel the intense stare of my boss drill holes into me through the mirror, her hands moving her hair out of the way.

"nice and slow pretty, don't wanna damage anything do you?" her raspy voice fills my ears.

"y-yes ma'am," I stutter out, continuing to unzip her dress.

I feel sweat come from my palms, the speed at which I was unzipping her dress achingly slow, even though it wasn't even that gradual. carefully, aeri's back exposed itself, her milky skin emerging into view. my hands feel unsteady as they work, my breathing becoming uneven too, nervous to mess up and also seeing the woman's bare back. I try to simply focus on the task at hand, staring directly at the zipper and nothing else.

"you got it, doing so well for me," aeri deeply breathes out, her eyes half-lidded and seductive through the reflection.

her gaze makes me absolutely weak, I feel fucking insane.

eventually, the torture is over though, reaching the end of the zipper's trail.

I step back and stutter, "y-you can finish cl-cleaning up, I'll wait in the living room!"

I turn away and speed walk out of the closet, patting my skin dry from the nervous sweat, plopping myself down on the sofa and covering my face with my clammy hands. oh my god I wanna scream. what the actual fuck am I getting myself into?

the night calmed down slightly. we shared a light dinner while aeri asked questions about me, why I was interested in the position, what my goals are, what do I wanna learn from working with her, how long I plan to work for her, all answers which she seemed to be satisfied with. she asked about me personally too, where I'm from, my background, my education, my interests, all of which she was intrigued by.

we talked quite normally for a few hours, having had a couple of drinks already, feeling the intoxication climb up slowly. eventually, we moved to the couch to converse more comfortably. she sat right down next to me, handing me a glass.

"hoping you enjoy red wine too," aeri settles close to me, leaning against her arm propped up on the back of the couch, taking a sip from her glass.

I take a sip from mine, "it's sweet so I'm happy."

"ah good, I like a drink just not when it tastes like it," she giggles.

"oh," she readjusts herself, "let me ask you, are there any limits or boundaries you'd like to set for yourself with me right now?"

her question catches me off guard, "I'm sorry?" I ask, almost confused.

she catches the puzzled sound in my voice, "well, I wanna know if there's anything you wouldn't wanna do. I'll have you running a lot of different errands, some of them you could say are... physically taxing?"

her voice lingers through the dimly lit room, her face illuminated by the shine of the moon and city lights through the window, "I'm simply curious is all miss l/n, could and would you do any and everything for me?"

there's something sinister in the way she talks, her voice deep, the words coming from her throat in an almost inaudible rasp, but loud enough to resonate through my head. her question rings in my ears, what could she mean?

"I will perform any task you set for me to the best of my capability," I give her a simple and general answer to respond, unsure of what else I can say.

she hums, seemingly pondering, her face looking quite deep into thought. she looks up at me, capturing my stare with hers, the energy suddenly shifting when we lock eyes. a smirk tugs at the corner of her lip slowly, making my stomach flip. her gaze is filled with an allure of seduction, her sudden fingertip tracing my exposed knee close to her making me jolt in surprise, a chill running down my back.

"any task huh?"

my breath hitches when the cold condensation of her wine drips onto my knee, trailing down my leg. she taps her glass against my knee again, droplets splashing off and running down my skin, making me shiver slightly. I watch as she lifts the glass off of me and gulps down another sip of the sweet alcohol, her lips tainted red.

I hum in agreement to the question, the sound coming from my lips almost inaudible, getting stuck in my throat from how flustered I became.

she holds her glass with her other hand now, returning the hand that touched my knee back to it and placing it on me, her fingers dragging across my skin, caressing it, "god, you're cute."

her fingers trail up and down the exposed part of my thigh, playing very slightly with the hem of my skirt, not trailing any further up. her touch absolutely ignites me on the inside, constant chills going through me, my breathing becoming uneven.

"aeri..." I whisper quietly, the feeling of her touching me too much for me to handle.

"what is it darling? use your words," her voice is soft but menacing, hand grabbing the underside of my knee to pull me closer to her, my body pushed up against her.

I gasp at the movement, almost spilling my wine. she looks down at me, a hazy look in her half-open siren eyes, her lips slightly parted and wet as she licks them clean. my pulse rises impossibly high, feeling like my heart is about to burst out of my chest, aeri's hand trailing higher on my thigh, crawling slowly under my skirt.

I tear my gaze away from her stare and grip her wrist, clearing my throat, "a-aeri... I don't think we should be this close..."

she grabs my wrist back, sliding her hand into mine and interlacing our fingers, bringing my hand to her mouth, "well pretty, I just can't help it you know?"

I swallow down the lump in my throat and tense as her plump lips press against my hand, her eyes fluttering shut as she kisses it achingly slow. the way she moves is so mesmerizing, her head craning to the side as she kisses it again, the sound of her releasing her lips from my skin resonates, feeling the wet spot she left on me.

I break out of the spell she has me under and slip my hand from her grasp, gripping the hem of my skirt down, crossing my legs tightly as the desire for her grew within me, "we should call it a night, you've already had a few drinks..."

she doesn't let up, fingers dragging across my arm, "I just need to know more about you y/n, aren't you curious too?"

I shiver at her question, "aeri... I can't... we shouldn't..."

"what's stopping us?" she grabs the glass out of my hand and places both of them on the coffee table, freeing our hands.

she pulls me by the collar of my sweater, her face coming closer to mine.

her lips hover right over mine as she whispers against them, "no one has to know."

I place my hands against her chest, holding her back from coming any closer to me, my breathing shaky, "you... you don't want this... you're just drunk aeri..."

"I do, I do want this y/n. push me away if you don't want this too," she holds one of my wrists, "please... stop me."

her voice whispered to me, the pleading desperation in her tone evident. and fuck me, it worked, my entire body burning, feeling myself start to throb.

I hold in my breath, resting my forehead against hers, "I... I do want this too, I don't want you to stop..."

there's a glint in aeri's eyes at my words, her big hand immediately grasping my neck and pulling me into her, smashing her blood red lips against mine. the kiss is greedy and desperate, her mouth molding against mine sloppily, our breathing heavy as tiny noises escape my throat. I taste the sweet red wine on her juicy soft lips as I melt further into her, feeling my entire body heat up in desire, clutching at her tank top and bunching it up in my hands, pulling her closer, making sure there's absolutely no space in between us. her other hand grips under my knee, pulling me into her lap, straddling her as she tilts her head to the side to make out deeply with me.

her hand grips my thigh under my skirt tightly, other hand pulling my neck in as she slips her tongue into my wet mouth. I sigh out at the intrusion, letting her move freely against my needy tongue. the flavor of alcohol and saliva intoxicate me completely, her deep groans vibrating in my mouth, making me whimper in response against her lips. my hands thread through her perfectly soft hair while both of her hands grip my thighs, rubbing them up and down before squeezing my hips, finally landing on my exposed waist, sliding under my cropped sweater, and guiding me on her lap.

I moan deeply against her, my core grinding on hers, aeri also releasing a long pleasured groan at the sensation. we finally pull away, leaning our foreheads against each other as we both pant, out of breath.

"fuck y/n, you're perfect," she sighs out, chest rising and falling, clutching the locks of her hair tightly to keep her close to me.

"aeri, I need you..." I desperately whine, my core aching painfully.

I pull back slightly to look her in the eyes and they're dark, clouded with lust and desire, which makes the pulsing between my thighs pound harder.

her voice is low and sultry, "tell me how badly."

the grip on my waist tightens as she guides my body once again, brushing my center against her own, making both of us moan.

"so, fucking, badly," I gasp out with each grind of my hips.

her hands guide me slowly but roughly, the contact of our clothed cores driving me insane, my stomach wanting to explode from the tightness. I grip her tightly as she continues to grind me against her, her fingers digging into my skin, my eyes squinted shut as the pleasure gradually but intensely builds inside me. I try to keep my eyes open, looking down at her focused stare, so hypnotized by the moment, feeling her gaze memorize the look of desire painted all over my face.

"let me help you," she whispers against my chest, one hand pulling my sweater up and over my breasts.

I release a hand from her hair and grip her shoulder with a gasp, the one unclasping my bra.

"it's okay," her teeth pulling my bra off, "trust me beautiful, I've got you."

her words make me lighten my hold on her shoulder, allowing her to keep going. she hums softly before exposing my boobs to the air, turning my cheeks pink in embarrassment. it swiftly washes away though as aeri's lips mumble against my skin.

"so pretty," my breath hitches when she attaches her mouth to my nipple, sucking the bud in and flicking her hot wet tongue against it.

I moan out loudly, the sensation had my eyes rolling back, arching myself into her as I grinded my own hips against her lap. her tongue swirled around my nipple, the saliva trailing down my chest, aeri using it to spread against my entire tit. I pant as she harshly but quickly bites down around my bud, soothing the shocking pain with her warm muscle. she switches to my other boob, spitting onto my nipple before swiping her tongue, sucking my entire tit into her mouth as she plays with the bud on her tongue.

"fuck aeri..." I whine in pleasure, both of my hands gripping at her shoulders, fingernails digging into them.

"like that?" she asks incoherently against my boob.

I nod mindlessly as I feel her smile against my chest, "already losing your mind huh? so sensitive baby."

she chuckles deeply, the sound vibrating on her tongue as it moves against my nipple. with one hand on my waist, she brings her other hand under my skirt again, creeping up my inner thigh and caressing her knuckle against my clothed clit. I jolt in her hold, biting down on my lip to suppress an embarrassingly loud whimper.

"don't hold back, let me hear you," she detaches from my chest, cupping my face and pulling me in.

her fingertip traces against my slit, "you're so fucking wet darling, you did want this, didn't you?"

"uh huh," I pant out, her finger pressing against my clit.

"fuck, I'm gonna ruin you."

aeri kisses me again, locking lips with mine, slipping her tongue into my mouth as I return her desperation with as much passion, thrashing my tongue back against hers. I feel her carefully push my panties to the side, two fingers sliding around my clit and dipping in and out of my slick slit, getting them wet from my dripping pussy.

"god you are soaked, you poor thing..." she teases after releasing me from her lips, teeth dragging my bottom lip, "must ache so bad."

"it does, fuck it does, aeri please please please," I beg desperately, "please fuck me..."

she groans against my lips, "you are so pretty when you beg, I'm gonna get so addicted to every part of you."

I whimper when she pinches my clit, soothing it when she rubs it in circles, "especially with this perfect pussy of yours."

aeri starts to leave wet kisses across my neck as her fingers flick my clit back and forth, gradually getting faster. I lace my fingers through her hair, gripping her head against my neck as my other hand clutches onto her upper arm for support as she continues to play with my pussy. I'm gasping for air, feeling the breath knocked out of me with how overwhelming the sensation of pleasure within me grows. her fingers slide down to my opening, gathering the slick and slapping her hand against my folds.

she inserts those two fingers inside of me, slipping them in easily due to my wetness, her digits completely sheathed by my walls. I let out a blissful cry at the action, digging my nails into her skin, making her hiss.

she groans with me, "my god you're so tight, your pussy just sucked me in. you feel perfect around me."

carefully, aeri draws her digits back, thumb rubbing at my clit, before sinking them inside me again, fingertips landing against that spot so delicious that it pulls a moan of delight from my lips. her tongue drags across the length of my perspiring neck, hand working smoothly against my sopping cunt.

"fuck! right there aeri yes, so good..." I sigh breathlessly, hips grinding back against her hand.

"taking me so well princess, that's it," she coos.

she starts speeding up, a consistent but accelerating pace as she plunges in and out of my hole, the sounds of our pants and gushing of my entrance filling my ears, aeri's lips against my jaw.

she trails her lips up to my ear and whispers, "such a good girl."

her voice drips with seduction, making my eyes roll back harder when she slips in a third finger. I release a euphoric scream, the intrusion full of pain and pleasure as it stretches me open, burning like hellfire but felt so unfathomably heavenly.

"you're gonna take everything I give you darling, fuck I'm going insane," immediately thrusting her fingers into me swiftly.

"ohhhhh goddddd..." one long continuous loud moan is forced from my throat, each pound of her hand sending me into oblivion.

I bounce on her hand, her long thick digits curling perfectly inside of my core, spilling cum all over her palm, dripping down onto her thighs. she feels so unbelievably good, her moaning right next to my ear, feeling pleasure just from watching and fucking me, her sounds continuing to impossibly turn me on.

"gonna cum on my fingers, doll? wanna make a mess in my lap?" her voice breathy and raspy, questions sounding more like a demand.

I mumble an affirmative response, something I doubt she can even make out properly, a dark chuckle in my ear at my incoherence. her lips trail down my neck, placing sloppy markings across my collar, lifting my top up again and feeling her hot tongue lap rhythmically against my nipple. her hand spread wide to capture my boobs, sucking both buds into her mouth and brushing her teeth down against them, switching between flicking her tongue and biting down on my hardened nipples.

the sensations drive me into a blinding release of ecstasy, my eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, screaming out in complete and utter bliss as my pussy gushed around aeri's skillful hand, drenching the both of us. my head is thrown back while my hands claw at the woman holding me close, mouth still working on my chest, vibrations against my nipples from her moaning while she fucks me through my intense climax.

she gradually lessens the speed at which she thrusts into me, coming to a halt when she achingly slowly pulls her dripping fingers out of my leaking cunt and releases with a pop, cum flowing out with her digits. she drags her fingers across my slit, spreading my slick around the entire area, rubbing against my sensitive bundle of nerves. I thrash at the stimulation, the feeling too much for my body, too soon.

she pulls her hand back from my core, her mouth releasing from my chest so she can bring the hand up to her lips, sticking her tongue out and letting her fingers drag across it, licking up every drop of cum on her digits. even though my vision is hazy, the sight makes me gulp, feeling my center pulsate. I collapse onto her as she lets me fall into her neck, nose brushing against her nape. my body feels exhausted, her hands sliding under my sweater and wrapping her toned arms around me, hugging my limp figure while rubbing my back soothingly.

aeri kisses my shoulder, her lips mumbling against it, "good girl."

I bury my face into her warm neck, nuzzling my face against her skin as I try to regain my energy, resisting passing out. slowly, I drag my head away, resting my forehead against hers with my eyes still closed, relishing in the serenity for just a second.

I flutter my eyes open just enough to see her, a soft look on her face as she quietly asks on my lips, "are you okay, princess?"

her concern for me send butterflies erupting in my stomach, feeling so cared for, a contrast to her demeanor just a little while ago.

I sigh out a response of affirmation before breathing out, "one more..."

the two words ring in aeri's ears, the sweet look on her face shifting ominously.

"you mean it," it was more of a statement than a question.

I nod and a smirk spreads across her lips.

she pulls me up, sliding her shorts and panties down her legs, slipping your underwear off of me too, "good, because I'm throbbing like crazy and I need you to ease the ache."

aeri maneuvers our bodies until our legs are intertwined, holding me by my waist as my pussy hovers over hers. she slides her fingers up her slit, letting out a breathy sigh, before bringing her dripping digits up to my lips.

"taste what you've done," opening my mouth and sucking on her fingers, cleaning them of her delectable nectar.

she watches intently as my tongue works around her fingers, her eyes blown with desire and her wet lips stained red, slightly parted as I slowly blink up at her, meeting her stare.

"how fucking obedient, you just wanna be mine don't you? you're gonna love working for me, I'm gonna use you however I want and you'll enjoy it because you're mine, got it?" she growls, gripping my jaw with her fingers still in my mouth, pulling my face closer, "I own you y/n l/n."

"all yours..." I choke on her digits.

her hand slips from my face, returning to my waist and pulling me down to her pussy, guiding me to slide against her slippery core. moans drag out from both of our mouths, my forehead resting on hers, overstimulation still present in my body as our clits brush against each other, aeri grinding our cunts again. her fingers dig into my sides, sliding her pussy upwards to meet the grind of my hips. I reciprocate the motion, moving to meet her thrusts, our cunt juices mixing with one another.

the feeling is so orgasmic, panting onto each others lips as I fuck myself against her, the squelching sounds loud from our slippery centers. she cries moans onto my lips, threading my fingers through her soft dampened hair, massaging her head and pulling her into a messy makeout, swallowing her pleasurable noises. I suck on her tongue as she increases our pace, forcing my body to keep up with her grinding, her nails scratching my skin.

I release her tongue with a pop, her saliva coating my mouth as she groans out at every other thrust, "you feel- so fucking- good, ugh y/n!"

"aeri, aeri, aeri, aeri..." I chant her name incomprehensibly.

her speed becomes relentless, wanting more control as she lifts me up and pins me down against the sofa, my back against the plush cushions and hands falling from her hair, aeri's legs and entire body holding me down as she drills me harder. our cunts are impossibly slick, sliding against each other so pleasurably, our clits perfectly making out messily, wetness continuing to leak from our pussies. she brings her hand to grasp my thigh, hugging my leg to her body, the other hand grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling my head back. my hands clutch the material of her thin shirt, holding it hard enough to tear, not that anything other than aeri fucking me right now matters.

"I'm going fucking feral over this pussy, you're so perfect doll, you're all mine," she sounds so aggressive yet sexy as she ruins me.

the woman above me looks so strikingly other-worldly, the shine of her sweaty skin leaving her glowing in the faint lighting, her dampened hair flowing across her body, stray bangs sticking to her forehead, her strong arms gripping me possessively, her chest bouncing up and down so close to my heated face, her drenched and aching core slipping perfectly against mine. aeri uchinaga feels, looks, and is absolutely ethereal.

I feel my stomach tighten as her pace is unstoppable, so fast the couch even jerks from the movement. our moans are cries, screams of loud and complete bliss, her lips plump and hanging open, eyes rolled all the way back.

"I'm gonna fucking cum, I'm gonna fucking cum!" aeri cries with her raspy throat.

"please, please, cum with me!" I beg her, voice hoarse but audible, her eyes locking onto mine.

we stare into each other's eyes as we both burst, cum gushing from our pussies, squirting against our cunts. my vision goes blank and I see a blinding white light surge through my head, my body thrashing from the pleasure, the sensations causing screams to rip from my throat, hearing aeri groan just as delightfully. I feel our cum flow down my thighs, soaking my skirt and the cushion under us, unable to move regardless as my hands release their grip on her torn shirt.

I fall totally limp against the couch, aftershocks of the orgasm coursing through my body, making my entire figure jerk every so often. aeri collapses on top of me, carefully still, her hands releasing their tight grips on me, her head falling into the pillow I lay on, face against my cheek, her nose bumping my skin. her hot heavy gasps for air hit the side of my face as I bring my hand up to play with her hair, caressing her head.

suddenly, her arms slip under my sweater and wrap around my torso, lifting me up and flipping us over. the action makes me squeal, my limp body now resting on top of her thumping chest, breasts soft against mine. I melt into her warm embrace, feeling my body's exhaustion crawl over me, wanting to consume me into slumber. aeri starts her pleasant humming, vibrations from her chest transferring to mine, feeling my body ease and slowly succumb to sleep.

"my perfect girl, you're gonna be an amazing assistant, we're gonna work so well together," she whispers.

I hum in response and she pats my back, giving me approval to rest.

her hands caress me soothingly, kissing my forehead, "sleep with me, no one has to know."

[greensagephase]

For Better or Worse - Part 2

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: Overwhelmed, you seek a moment of solitude on your sister's wedding day at the garden, but you can't even have that thanks to your sister's now brother-in-law, Miguel. Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: use of y/n; no name for your sister still (I think we're just going to go with a nickname); some cussing; alcohol consumption; pesky aunts and a divorced man offer unsolicited opinions; some Spanish but translations are provided in text; a bit of arguing; suggestive content, so MDNI, please!; reader is fluent in Spanish; I think that's all A/N: hiiii, finally updating this after two months 🫠 But anyway, I just wanted to give a big thank you to @lauraolar14 for the amazing fanart she made from part 1!! Found here ! Thank you, Lara!! 🥰 Pls go and support her!! Masterlist | Spotify Previous Part

You down a glass with water and place it on a tray just as a waiter offers you another drink. You politely decline before letting your gaze wander around the elegant venue your sister and Gabriel chose for the reception, thinking how it’s truly beautiful and perfect for the wedding they both envisioned.

Your eyes eventually land on the newlyweds as they dance, a smile tugging at your lips. They’ve been dancing nonstop since their first dance, which means their feet will likely be sore tomorrow. However, by tomorrow afternoon they should be in their honeymoon destination, relaxing from the last couple of days of last minute wedding shenanigans and basking in their newlywed energy.

“Aww, sweetie,” someone says, ripping your attention from your sister and now brother-in-law. It’s one of your aunts. You offer a polite smile as she approaches, your gut warning you about her intentions. “Look at you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Look at me…?” you state but it sounds more like a question.

“This must be so hard for you,” your aunt says, taking your arm and holding it, with a sad tone that matches the frown on her face.

You hold back from sighing in annoyance, recognizing where this is going. You’ve heard it twice already from two other aunts.

“Not really. I know she’s the baby of the family, but well, we all grow up, right?” you reply, forcing a smile. You hope your words will deter your aunt from explaining what she truly means, but unfortunately for you, it doesn’t.

“Aw, not that, sweetie. I mean, yes, but I was referring to how hard it must be for you as the eldest. Seeing your younger sister get married before you - it must be so hard. You should’ve been married by now, maybe with a little toddler at your side. Instead, you’ve found yourself witnessing your younger sister marry first, and who knows, maybe pregnant in a few months, but cheer up, sweetie. Don’t let this make you feel less, okay? Sometimes… Not everyone has the pleasure of marrying and experiencing motherhood, but that’s alright. I’m sure you have other… things that bring happiness to you, like… your job?” your aunt says, giving your arm what she thinks is a reassuring squeeze, but is rather an uncomfortable one. On top of that, she’s delivering another jab at you she doesn’t even know she’s making. “I’m sure that brings a lot of satisfaction to you.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” you force yourself to say with a fake smile that seems to go past your aunt. You silently pray she leaves you alone and that this is the last time you have to hear the same “comforting” and “reassuring” words for the night. You hope so, or you’ll slap someone. Mentally, of course. You’d never cause any kind of commotion publicly, much less at your sister’s wedding when you care so deeply about her and Gabriel. Besides, that’d give the people a field day and fill their minds with thoughts of you being “jealous” or “resentful” about your sister marrying before you.

Thankfully, your aunt leaves, off to offer more unsolicited advice and words of comfort, probably.

“Mierda [shit],” you sigh just as you hear a man somewhere behind you.

“Ah, Miguel! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Working all the time, huh?”

Subtly, you glance behind you at the man’s words. You didn’t even know Miguel was nearby, but now knowing he is, you wonder if he heard your aunt. You hope he didn’t as the last thing you want is Miguel to think you were looking at the newlyweds with jealously and that that was the reason your aunt felt the need to provide those “reassuring” words.

“Yes, yes. I stay busy working,” you hear Miguel reply.

“Good for you. And you’re still single?” the man asks.

“Si. No tengo pareja [Yes. I don’t have a partner],” Miguel replies, a hint of humor in his tone.

“That’s good, that’s good! No plans of marriage in sight for you. It’s better that way. You can spend your money how you want to, no children involved, no woman bothering you about grand gestures, or making you spend money. Enjoy your youth, have your fun. Maybe later on, you can settle down.”

You continue to watch the people on the dance floor, but you can’t help but scoff to yourself at the difference.

Your aunt was just pitying you about not being married and having children, but Miguel is being celebrated for the same thing by this man when he’s a few years older than you. You grab a glass from a waiter’s tray, thanking him. “I need one, or two after the crap I’m hearing,” you murmur to yourself as he walks away.

“You think so?” Miguel asks. “At my age, people think I ought to be married. Maybe with a kid or two.”

“No, no. Trust me, it’s better. That’s why I divorced.”

“I thought it was your wife who divorced you,” Miguel says gently. Despite the gentleness, Miguel’s words tear down the man’s attempt to make it seem like he had been the one to make the decision, and had you been watching Miguel, you would’ve noticed his raised brow to go along with it.

“Ah - well. Yes… But who cares? I’m divorced and free. I’m doing better than I was.” The man laughs. “I’m doing so, so, so great...” he says trailing off before chugging down some alcohol, a sign of a man who is most definitely doing great.

You roll your eyes. God bless that woman, she made the right choice divorcing the idiot behind you.

“Yeah, well…” you hear Miguel start. “I guess marriage is not for everyone. I’m not going to say it’s not for me, though. Who knows? Maybe one day a woman catches my attention.”

“You’ll be a miserable man, trust me. Don’t let any woman lure you into the marriage trap. You’re too young. Enjoy your youth. Go on dates. Have fun, if you know what I mean,” the man says, using a tone that leaves no doubt about what he’s referring to.

You decide you’ve heard enough, so you walk away, glass in hand. You glance at your sister and Gabriel from the sidelines of the dance floor, still dancing and lost in their own little and magical bubble. The sight brings a smile to your face once more before you turn, seeking a moment to yourself.

You step out of the venue, sighing deeply as you walk into a garden area where photos were taken earlier in the day. You briefly recall the photo session and how you were forced to take some photographs with the groom’s best man, who looked equally displeased to stand next to you, the maid of honor. You stood next to each other, stiff as surf boards and hands clasped in front of you with the most serious faces.

“This is the most scoffs, eye rolls, and scowls I’ve ever seen in a photo shoot. C’mon, guys! You’re the maid of honor and the best man. And -” Arturo, the cameraman, paused, walking closer. “Respective eldest siblings to the bride and groom. You should be acting like - a family. Here, let’s just move a little closer,” he said, finding it easier to move you instead of Miguel, and moving you closer to him.

You stiffened even more at that and Miguel scoffed at the way you were acting, like he had some incurable disease.

“You, too, señor [sir]. Please step closer,” Arturo gently demanded.

That earned Arturo a scoff and a glare.

“Yeah, O’Hara. Move closer and stop wasting time,” you added, innocently.

“Thank you, señorita [miss],” Arturo replied happily, believing he had at least turned your attitude around when in reality, you were simply taking the opportunity to poke fun at Miguel. It was the only way to make the photo session bearable.

With an eye roll, Miguel stepped closer until his arm brushed against yours. “Better?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Better,” Arturo confirmed. “Though…” he trailed off, frowning.

“You look like a three-day old piece of bolillo [savory bread in MX + other Latin countries],” you said all too seriously. “Stiff.”

Arturo, bless his heart, turned away and attempted to hide his shock.

With a poker face, you turned to look at Miguel and found a scowl, his eyes on you already.

“A three-day old piece of bolillo?” he repeated, annoyance dripping from his mouth. “And what are you? A fresh, sweet, soft piece of cortadillo [a kind of pan dulce; Mexican pastry], I suppose?”

You snorted at that. “I’m flattered you think of me like that. Cortadillo is so good,” you replied, smirking softly.

“Dios mio [my God], I’m just trying to do my job and those two are talking about pan dulce [Mexican pastries],” Arturo complained from somewhere, thinking he was quiet enough that he wasn’t going to be heard, but he was.

Miguel and you stared at each other as the cameraman’s words of frustration rang in your heads. You held each other’s gazes and as much as you both wanted to keep the glares and scowls, Arturo made both of you smile and then burst into quiet laughter.

In the end, Arturo got his opportunity with that moment of laughter and managed to capture the best man and maid of honor smiling in each other’s presence before you both ran off to get other duties done once the photographs were done.

You shake your head from the memory and look up at the garden lights hanging over you, giving the area a whimsical look, before you walk further away from the door and into a less well-lit area.

You sigh deeply again, something you’ve found yourself doing too much lately. The comments from your pesky aunts and the conversation you overheard have caused you some irritation, but it’s not just that. You’ve been trying to ignore a problem that’s been weighting on you all day. You’ve tried not to let it dampen your mood, today being your sister’s wedding, and you had succeeded until now. On a normal day, those conversations with your aunts and the man’s words to Miguel would’ve mattered little to you, but with the big issue in your life right now, they’ve managed to put you in a bad mood.

The big issue?

You were forced to resign from your job two days ago, leaving you unemployed.

It wasn’t anything that you did, but rather what you refused to do that led to the decision. You grimace in disgust just thinking about it all over again. You started working at the company two years ago and everything was great with you rising up the ranks quickly due to your hard work and determination, but as you rose higher and higher, you were warned.

You were told to be cautious of your boss and his wandering hands. You did your best to avoid him on your own and always kept a professional attitude to set clear boundaries. Foolishly, you thought you were safe with two years in and no impropriety on your boss’s side, but you were wrong.

Two days ago, he cornered you in his office to make his move. Of course, you made it known you weren’t interested nor willing to do anything beyond what is professional. Even when you were promised a promotion if you “played” the game, you refused - something that angered your boss. Apparently, the disgusting man believed you’d accept his advances. Despite taking it to HR, nothing was done because of the position and status your boss holds within the company. You knew then that you needed to leave the company, so you did.

You don’t regret it. You’ll never give yourself away like that to some disgusting and horrible man, even if you’re unemployed now.

However, you don’t look forward to job searching and all that it entails. Thinking about it makes you feel stressed and even some anxiety. Then, there’s also the words from your ex-boss, his promise to make it hard for you to find a job within your field.

You wonder. Surely he doesn’t have that much power, right?

You hope not.

You down the rest of the drink, briefly thinking about how you should probably stop drinking by now, but the unexpected change, one you’re carrying on your own because you refused to tell your family about it with the wedding coming up, is weighing heavily on you now.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the door open, follow by footsteps. You recognize it’s not a woman’s, at least you don’t think so since there’s no sounds of heels, but either way, you can’t help but feel annoyed that someone has stepped out and taken your small moment of solitude. You just wanted a moment to yourself, but it seems that whoever stepped out, decided otherwise.

“Ah, you’re here, too?”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to face Miguel O’Hara. Of course, it had to be him of all people.

Miguel stands a few feet from the door, hands inside the pockets of his perfectly tailored pants while staring at you. For some reason, your annoyance grows at the way it hugs him in what women would say the “right way,” which you’re certain many women did comment on tonight, considering you caught many staring at him like he’s a piece of candy. You’re sure many are probably having little fantasies of him now; recalling how tall he is for a Mexican man, his wide shoulders only enhanced by his suit jacket, and the way his hair frames his chiseled face so well like God himself styled it for him.

And if they shook his hand, they may be thinking about how large and warm it was, how it felt against their own.

There may even be some women imagining making their parents suegros [parents-in-laws] and planning some elaborate wedding in their heads, thinking the bride today will be like a sister to them.

“Yes,” you simply reply, turning away again and making it known you don’t wish to talk. He can stay over there, on his own little spot, and let you be over here, unbothered.

“Needed some fresh air?”

Great.

“Yes.”

Miguel snorts, decreasing the distance between you. He’s still not in your space, but he’s significantly closer now. “One-word answers. You must be having a night.”

You don’t reply. Maybe if you don’t he’ll go back inside, but with your luck recently, doubtful.

“Did the comments from your aunts get to you?” he asks suddenly when you say nothing else.

“What comments?”

“You know very well which ones. I happened to be there, you know. When the first aunt went over, the second one, and then, the third and last one.”

You scoff. “Didn’t know you were a chismoso [gossiper; masculine noun].”

Miguel snorts again. “It’s not my fault they talk so loudly and I happened to be there.”

True on the talking too loud, but you still wish he hadn’t heard, just like you wish you hadn’t heard him being celebrated for the same things you were being pitied on.

“Right, and are you here to offer words of comfort, too?” you reply in a snappy tone. “Or, are you out here to celebrate how you were recommended to stay clear from commitment by your friend?”

Miguel scoffs. You really think he’s that kind of man?

“If you heard the conversation, surely you heard what I said,” he replies defensively turning his body to face you now. “I don’t agree with that mindset.”

“You know -” you step back and pinch the bridge of your nose for a second. “I don’t care. Can you just - leave me alone?” you snap, stepping away. You don’t care about the topic anyway, it’s not the reason why you’re truly upset. Miguel O’Hara can do whatever he wants with his life and your aunts can nag and pity you, you don’t care. What you care about is the fact you lost your job the way you did and that now you’re unemployed.

“No,” Miguel says, upset. “I’m not. You seem to think you have me all figured out, don’t you? Just because we’ve never been two to get along. I’m not that kind of man.”

“I don’t care what kind of man you are. This isn’t about you.”

Miguel steps forward, his body brushing against your arm making you turn to face him, too. You glare at him.

“This isn’t about me, but I’m receiving the brunt of your anger.”

“I’m not angry about what you think I am, alright? I could care less what my aunts said, what that man said to you, though it’s unfair, but it’s not what’s on my mind. So, do me a favor and drop it. Leave me alone. You’re not the center of my world,” you reply with a scoff before turning away from him.

“What a shame,” Miguel murmurs following you. He grabs your arm and pulls you back, his hand wrapping around your flesh with enough force to keep you still without hurting you. “¿Que te pasa [what’s the matter]? Why are you so upset if it’s not that, then?”

You tug at your arm, a fruitless attempt to free yourself since Miguel doesn’t let go.

“Answer the question,” he demands, those deep brown eyes looking straight at you.

“It’s none of your business,” you answer, still glaring at Miguel.

He scoffs, holding your gaze as you look at him like he’s the most disgusting thing your eyes could ever lay upon.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he mumbles, his grip tightening around your arm slightly, tugging you closer to him. With narrowed eyes, he holds your gaze for a few seconds before images of your lips flash in his mind from the dance lessons.

He had never been that close to you before, never held nor touched you.

Miguel had never noticed the way your eyelashes framed your eyes, the shape of your lips, nor had he ever noticed your scent, a mixture of your very own essence and perfume. It’s the kind of scent that makes a man weak in the knees and wish for a closer inhale. No, Miguel had never noticed those things about you and it was to his great annoyance that not only had he noted them, but that those details had also made him feel weird afterwards.

Miguel felt so off that he had to make up the excuse about having a call to make. In reality, all he did was step out and take some fresh air, his mind boggled with the entire situation from the comments the dance instructor made about the two of you being in love and sharing passion to his little stunt after your two left feet comment and your payback, which left an ache on his foot, to the details he had never noticed about you. His mind was boggled and yet, you were the same as always with him; annoyed by, distant from, and uninterested in him.

And for some reason, it bothered him that day.

When he went back inside, he found you on the other side of the dance studio, looking closely at the couple and offering some advice to help them, ignoring his presence. Even when the four of you met up at the parking lot once again after the dance lesson, your attitude was the same. Your sister and Gabriel asked if either of you were interesting in grabbing something to eat, but you declined so fast and stated you had other things to do before the wedding, “maid of honor duties” you called them.

He watched with a scowl as you got in your car and left, only having said bye to the couple while barely giving him a glance of acknowledgement despite the conversation you had just had about making things work for the sake of your sister and Gabriel.

Of course, Miguel declined the invitation, too. He was in no mood to be third wheeling and he did have some things to do for work, so he, too, left with thoughts of your annoying self on his mind.

He eventually placated his thoughts with work, including dealing with his team and the fact that his current assistant put in their four weeks. Thankfully, he still has some time left before his assistant leaves, which he hopes is enough time to find someone to fill in the position. Either way, his work helped him set his thoughts about you aside that day.

Now, Miguel pushes past his thoughts and focuses on you, still holding your arm.

“And what of it?” you reply to his comment about you being a brat, still glaring at him so fiercely and angrily about whatever you’re upset about, proving Miguel you can be such a brat sometimes.

For two seconds Miguel has a thought - bending you over his knee and teaching you a lesson to tame that bratty attitude of yours. Then, his brain betrays him and he imagines what you’d sound like if he did. Would you still be a little brat when his heavy palm makes contact with your rear, or would you whimper and -

“You’re so upset,” Miguel says in an almost breathless way, his mind blanking for a second. “If it’s not your aunts’ comments, then what is it? It must be something of importance, if it has you like this on your sister’s wedding day,” Miguel adds, trying to focus on the moment at hand and not on whatever the hell his brain is going on about. He decides, quickly, that he’s probably had a few too many tequila shots. That’s probably why his brain is acting up. Surely.

“As I said earlier, it’s none of your business,” you reply, once again trying to free your arm, but to no avail. The giant man has you rooted to his side.

“Bullshit,” Miguel replies. His brother married into your family and your sister into his, that makes the two of you something now, doesn’t it? You’re tied for life now, for better or worse, in this way thanks to your siblings. And, the two of you did agree to get along for their sake.

“No te metas en lo que no te importa [don’t get involved in what doesn’t bother you],” you snap. “Mind your business. We may have agreed to be civil, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be besties.”

“As if, princesita [little princess],” Miguel responds with a scoff. “I wouldn’t be able to take your little attitude for two hours, even if I was paid, much less be ‘besties’ with you.”

“We have that in common, at least. I wouldn’t spend a day with you, even for a million dollars,” you reply, even though you could really use a million dollars, especially now.

Miguel smirks, amused by your response, and pulls you closer. “Not even if I paid you two million?”

“Not even five.”

Lies, lies, lies. You wouldn’t be worrying about being unemployed if you had even just one million dollars in the bank right now.

Miguel shrugs. “Maybe it’s too little, they’re little numbers after all,” he replies with a cocky smirk, for some reason bragging about his wealth to you now, something he’s never done before to anyone, but then again, his brain is not working accordingly right now.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. You know Miguel is a CEO for a company you’ve never bothered to learn the name of, so you’re not surprised he has money, but saying five million dollars is “too little” is aggravating, and kind of shocking.

“Whatever, let go of me. Now,” you demand.

Miguel now scoffs at your demanding tone as if he couldn’t easily throw you over his shoulder and carry you off, or pin you against a wall.

“¿Qué tal si te digo que no? ¿Qué vas a hacer entonces, princesita? [What if I tell you no? What are you doing then, princess?]” Miguel replies, pulling you closer, so much closer his expensive cologne surrounds you.

You breathe it in, subtly of course. It’s rich, warm, and woody mixed in with his own scent. It’s the kind that sends a pool of warmth to your very core if allowed to inhale straight from a man’s neck with your nose pressed to his sensitive and warm flesh. You freeze for a second, the very thought almost makes you grimace, the fact that you’ve thought of such thing with Miguel of all men.

“You’re gonna slam your foot on mine again like the other day?” he asks mockingly, bringing you back to your senses.

“And mess your pretty, expensive shoes?”

Miguel snorts. “I can easily replace them.”

“So, you want me to slam my foot on yours? Is that what you’re saying?” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

Miguel grins, leaning closer, so much closer. He continues to hold your gaze, holding you still.

You scoff, your gaze unwavering.

You’re such a little brat, Miguel thinks again, his hand tightening around your arm just a tad more.

“What? Can’t make up your mind now?” you ask with a smug smile.

He scowls, pulling you so much closer. Your breath fans his face and he finds himself growing still when he feels it against lips especially. He swallows deeply while holding your gaze, your scent filling his nostrils and making him lean almost instinctively.

“You can ruin the shoes, I’ll simply buy new ones. I’ll even get you some pretty heels for your trouble. ¿Trato [Deal]?” he asks quietly, his gaze flickering to your lips for a second.

And God, maybe it really is all the drinks you’ve both had tonight because you lean closer, too.

Suddenly, it feels like two rocks rubbing against each other, a spark of fire made beneath the moonlight.

“¿Que pasa [What’s wrong]? Cat got your tongue?” Miguel whispers with a smirk.

“No. I was just thinking about the color I'd like the heels,” you reply, sarcastically.

“Ah, the color. Don't worry, you can choose whatever color you like. Whatever brand. Saint Laurent, Burberry, Gucci…”

You snort. “Didn't know you were so giving, O’Hara.”

“You don't know me” Miguel replies, tilting his head a little.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a smirk that makes Miguel's heart skip a beat. He leans slightly closer, further decreasing the distance between your faces.

“I’m a man that likes to give - to provide,” Miguel continues, his hand tightening around your arm, his gaze flickering to your lips once more.

“Ah, interesting. You're the tree that keeps on giving, hm?”

“Such a smartass,” Miguel mumbles, eyes narrowing and meeting yours again. “One of these days that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

“I can't wait,” you reply defiantly.

Miguel scowls, your little defiance stirring something in him once more. He huffs, eyes moving to your lips yet again, not thinking straight. All he’s suddenly thinking about is closing the distance and shutting your mouth - with his own. He thinks about his mouth pressed against yours, about slipping his tongue in and swirling it around yours to taste you, to make you whine.

Meanwhile, you look at him, noticing his gaze on your lower face. You find yourself doing the same, your eyes landing on his full lips specifically. You silently wonder, despite yourself, what they’d feel like against yours and against your skin. The thought creates a fluttering feeling inside your chest, one that Miguel shares.

His heart races, his mind clouded with these strange thoughts. Miguel thinks about leaning in all the way and doing it, kissing you once and for all to satisfy a hunger and craving he’s suddenly overwhelmed with.

And he would've, if only the door leading to the garden hadn’t suddenly swung open before you both register voices.

You both pull away instantly, staring at each other like two deer caught in headlights. The realization hits the two of you like a ton of feathers at once, the truth echoing in your heads over and over again.

You were going to kiss.

You were going to kiss.

You were going to kiss.

The only thing that breaks Miguel and you from your shock are the sudden intimate noises, tearing your gazes from each other to see what’s the matter. It’s then that you both see a couple making out against the wall, totally unaware that Miguel and you are there due to the poor lighting.

Seeing the intimacy and hearing their noises of passion is all you need before you walk past Miguel, fleeing the garden area wordlessly to pull yourself together.

Miguel doesn’t try to stop you, not even when you brush past him. He stands there for a second or two before he, too, walks off in the opposite direction, hands clenched.

It’s not until you find yourself utterly alone once more that you stop walking. You stare at the ground, your heart racing while your mind plays the last few minutes over and over again. It makes no sense. There’s no way Miguel was about to kiss you, right? You huff in frustration and begin to pace back and forth, one hand clenched tightly around the glass you brought out with you as you try to make sense of the situation.

“Alcohol,” you say quickly to yourself, nodding. “Too much alcohol. It makes people do stupid things.” You nod once more, slowly calming yourself as you repeat this in your head.

At last, you stop pacing when you find reason for that near mistake.

Alcohol, which messes with your brain. Nothing more.

“Hey!”

Startled, you jump and let out a small gasp before turning. You find your mom, happily smiling.

“Come on! What are you doing out here all alone, mija [my daughter]?”

“Just - taking some fresh air,” you answer, walking over to her.

“Your sister and Gabrielito are about to cut the cake. They were wondering where you were,” your mom informs you, offering her arm to you.

You smile and accept your mom’s arm, embracing her comforting presence as you both head back inside the party.

“They were also looking for Miguel. You haven’t seen him, have you?” your mom asks, nearly making you trip.

“N - No, I haven’t,” you lie, clearing your throat and checking your shoe to pretend something is wrong with it to make up for you nearly tripping. “He’s probably talking with the men. They all seem like big fans of him.”

Your mom smiles, nodding. She hums softly as you both enter the venue again, the kind of hum that only moms can muster when they know something you don’t.

“I’m sure Miguelito is somewhere around here. Maybe he needed some fresh air, too,” your mom continues, patting your forearm as you fully enter the reception room now. “Let’s go get some cake.”

After eating cake and making toasts with your family and the guests, you stick near your parents’ side for the rest of the night, as a distraction to forget what almost happened earlier, until it’s time to see your sister and Gabriel off. You watch next to your parents as the newlyweds walk out of the venue, saying bye to the guests and other family members until it’s the immediate families’ turn at the end.

You hug your sister and Gabriel goodbye when it’s your turn, wishing them a great time and congratulating them yet again.

At last, the couple makes it to the car and gets settled. You smile softly as they wave goodbye one more time before the car departs. Watching the car grow smaller and smaller, the realization that your baby sister is married dawns on you. In the blink of an eye, she grew up and turned into a wonderful young woman. You briefly recall when she was a little girl, when she used to follow you everywhere because she wanted to do everything with you. And now, she’s all grown up and starting a new life with the love of her life.

A few feet away from you, Miguel does the same with a thoughtful expression on his face. He can’t believe Gabriel is now a married man, that he’s all grown up. He sighs, wondering where time went before he turns sideways, finding you staring in the direction of the car. He has no doubt you’re having similar thoughts like his, the two of you being the eldest siblings.

Sensing someone’s gaze, you turn, only to meet Miguel’s eyes. You stare at each other for a few seconds, the moment at the garden flashing through your minds like the highlights of a video with one particular part in replay: that moment when Miguel leaned forward and his gaze fell on your lips before you allowed yourself the same with his.

Your senses, both Miguel’s and yours, are overwhelmed in seconds. You easily recall each other’s scents, the warmth from your bodies, and the angry energy that slowly turned into something different due to the shoe talk before you fell into whatever that was at the end.

You blink at last and swallow deeply, pushing the memory away. You scoff at yourself, still holding Miguel’s gaze.

Damn alcohol and the things it makes you do and feel. Right?

You finally look away and walk off to meet your parents, not sparing Miguel another glance.

Miguel’s eyes follow you until you disappear from his sight. He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh, frustrated. He doesn’t even know if it’s at you or himself, or both. Or, maybe he’s just exhausted form the wedding planning and the actual wedding activities.

He doesn’t know anymore, just like he doesn’t know what he was thinking back at the garden. He turns away and scowls at himself. Okay, fine. He knew exactly what he was thinking: kissing and tasting you.

“Miguel-”

“What?” Miguel snaps, turning. He clears his throat when he finds Daniel, the man from earlier who was boasting about being divorced and advising Miguel to stay single for a while longer. He sighs and shakes his head. “Forgive me, Daniel. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s alright. You’re probably tired from the wedding. These things are always exhausting. I was just going to ask if you are interested in joining me and some of the other guys to a bar. It’s still early,” Daniel says before three other young men reach them.

Knowing the men, Miguel knows what kind of night they hope to have; one with no attachments but filled with carnal pleasure.

Miguel shakes his head. “Thank you for the invitation, but I’m too tired. And besides, I still have to wrap up some things here regarding the venue. You guys have fun.”

The other men boo him and one even dares to call him “old fashioned” since they know Miguel isn’t interested in those type of nights with strangers. They eventually walk away, leaving Miguel alone once more. He shakes his head as he sees them pull out of the parking lot before fishing for his own car keys inside his pockets.

The truth is, Miguel has no tasks related to the venue left. A cleaning crew was hired to take care of everything so neither families would have to worry about it. The food situation was handled and the gifts have been collected to be stored for now until the couple comes back from their honeymoon.

All Miguel needs to do is wish everyone a good night and head home. That’s it. Yet… His thoughts are a storm and you’re at the center of it, the culprit.

His gaze, despite himself, searches for you. He finally spots you several feet away talking with a man, one he doesn’t know personally. Miguel watches the interaction, noticing the closeness and the way you seem at ease with the individual. Hell, you’re even laughing at something the man says.

He looks away when the man places a hand on your forearm while talking, opting to gaze at the venue’s front gardens with trimmed bushes and perfectly aligned flowers.

Miguel suddenly realizes it. He’s stalling, but why? He turns to look your way again, discreetly, and the need to talk to you suddenly hits him. He needs to talk to you about what almost happened at the garden earlier. So, Miguel takes a few steps your way.

As he approaches you, he’s unsure of what he’d even say. I’m sorry for almost kissing you? Miguel cringes internally. Should he even bring it up? Talking about it makes it more real. It means acknowledging that that almost happened between you along with admitting some level of vulnerability, something neither of you have ever shared with each other.

He suddenly finds himself standing next to you and the man, his large strides making the walk a short one. The man stops talking and looks over at him, a look of confusion at Miguel’s sudden appearance. On the other hand, to Miguel’s annoyance, you give him a look of nonchalance.

“Excuse me,” Miguel starts, acknowledging the man. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I need a word with Ms. Y/N.”

The man nods, looking somewhat disappointed. “I see. I’ll give you two a moment,” the man says despite you beginning to protest.

You watch the man, a son of one of your dad’s friends from work, walk away. Slowly, you turn to face Miguel, keeping a neutral expression. “Yes?”

“We need to talk about what happened,” Miguel says quietly, meeting your gaze.

“What happened?” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

Miguel scoffs, his eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t give me that attitude.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“At the garden,” Miguel continues through gritted teeth in disbelief at your nonchalance.

You hum, tilting your head. “Nothing happened,” you respond.

“Are you kiddi-” Miguel starts but stops, his frustration mounting. He lowers his voice. “Don’t play stupid with me, princesita [little princess]. We both know you’re far from it.”

“You know what I know?” you ask quietly. “There’s nothing to discuss. Don’t make a storm in a glass of water, okay?” With that, you walk around him.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done talking,” Miguel replies, following you.

“As far as I’m concern, we have nothing to talk about. So, I’ll see you around, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, ending the conversation as you head to your car.

“Dammit,” Miguel murmurs, still following you.

You quickly unlock your car and get inside, slamming the door close. You start the car even when you see Miguel standing next to it, trying to talk to you. Sighing, you consider rolling your window down for a few seconds to let him talk, but at the same time you don’t wish to hear him out. A part of you knows that talking about what nearly happened will make it feel important when it’s not. Or, at least you’ve made yourself believe it’s not.

You shift the car’s gear, ready to drive off, but at the last second, you roll your window down. Facing forward and with your foot on the brake, you speak. “We’ve both had drinks. Alcohol makes people do things that they wouldn’t do when they’re fully sober, even with a little bit in their system. There’s nothing to discuss nor explain. Nothing happened and that’s what matters. I’m certainly not making a big deal out of it, nor have I been offended by what nearly happened, so if that’s what you’re trying to do - apologize - save it. Have a good night,” you state firmly before driving off, leaving a frustrated Miguel in the parking lot.

Through your rear view mirror, you look at him one more time. You find him watching you drive off, his arms at his sides in a stance that lets you detect his frustration clearly. At last, you look away, certain you’ve handled the situation accordingly.

A/N: Hiii, I'm sorry for how long it took me to update, but life got crazy in August due to a family member's death and then sickness. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed part 2! When I wrote part 1, I wasn't planning on this being a multiple parts fic, but with writing part 2, I guess I am now.

I'm unsure of how long this will be. Tbh, I'm hoping for it to be short 😭🙏🏼 Like, 10 chapters or so? Maybe less. I need to sit down and plan accordingly! As you can probably guess, this will transition into a CEO!Miguel x Assistant!female reader who are also now connected because of your sister and Gabriel, so I'm just letting you guys know the forced proximity will increase! 🙂‍↕️

Thank you for reading, and I hope you're having a great day/night!!

Alondra❤️

p.s. I have attached my side Spotify account in case you guys are interested in keeping up with the music I listened to while writing this chapter.

for the people that asked me to notify them for part 2: @vera4luv @safixiovi

[flwrstqr]

SECRET ˒ 엔하이픈 ﹙ LHS ﹚

-> when you, the student council's president, and heeseung, the basketball team captain, are secretly in a relationship .ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 PAiRiNG basketball captain!heeseung x school president! femreader WORD COUNT: 400+

GENRE﹙💬﹚⸝⸝⸝ one shot, high school au

「 WARNiNGS ‎not proofread, kissing, one or two petnames

DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ im back >3<| feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

─── [ continue on to . . . library , request ]

THE GYM IS FILLED WITH THE RHYTHMIC thumping of basketballs and the shouts of players as you walk through the double doors, clipboard in hand. You scan the gym, your eyes quickly finding Heeseung. Your heart flutters at the sight, but you remind yourself to stay focused. No one can know about your relationship, not yet.

"President!" Coach Kim calls out, waving you over. "Got those schedules for the upcoming games?"

"Right here," you reply, handing over the neatly organized sheets. You steal a glance at Heeseung, who catches your eye and gives you a barely noticeable wink.

"Thanks," Coach Kim says "These will help a lot. The boys have been working hard, and we appreciate your support."

"It's my job," you respond with a smile, but your eyes drift back to Heeseung, who is now wiping sweat with the hem of his jersey. You bite your lip, quickly looking away before anyone notices your distraction.

After practice, the gym slowly empties out, leaving just you and Heeseung. You pretend to be engrossed in your clipboard as he approaches, his footsteps echoing in the now-quiet gym.

"Princess," he says softly.

"Hi," you reply, looking up at him. His eyes are warm, and you can see the concern in them.

"You seemed a little tense today," he observes, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Everything okay?"

You nod, leaning into his touch. "Yeah, just a lot as president. But seeing you makes me feel better already,"

Heeseung smiles, and the sight makes your heart skip a beat. "You always know how to make me feel better," he murmurs, his hand lingering on your cheek.

He glances around once more, making sure you're alone, before leaning in to press a quick, soft kiss to your lips. It's fleeting, but it sends a rush of warmth through you, grounding you in the reality of your secret relationship.

"We should be careful," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "If anyone finds out..."

"I know," he sighs, "I hate hiding," he admits, his voice muffled against your hair. "I want to be able to hold your hand in public, to kiss you without worrying about who might see."

"Me too," you confess, your fingers clutching his jersey. "But we have to be careful. If anyone finds out, it could cause problems for both of us."

"I know," he sighs, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "But it doesn't make it any easier."

You nod, understanding his frustration all too well. "We'll find a way," you promise. "For now, we have to be patient."

Heeseung leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. When you finally pull apart, you're both breathless. Heeseung rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. "I love you," he whispers, the words a soft caress against your lips.

"I love you too," you reply.

[entwnii]

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎 is a very busy man. being a sport promoter is a hard-working job in terms of schedule — having to find various endearing sport events and sponsors who will agree to take part and finance these social event — which consumes a lot of time and humain energy.

and while tetsuro is grateful for the way you support and understand that his work takes a lot of him he still feels guilty for leaving you alone most of the time — especially now that you’re six months pregnant with his son.

over the last couple of weeks your husband and his coworkers started working on a very special sporting event, the ‘FIVB Beach Volleyball World Championships’, the double-gender world championship of beach volleyball. despite this championship being in a bit more than a year it is by far the most important worldwide volleyball event happening in the following year.

which is why testuro has been working harder during the last few days, his schedule being filled with meetings to discuss with a bunch of different sponsors — on who gets to sponsor what.

so when tetsuro finds himself having a ten minutes break between two meeting he immediatly turns on his phone, checking for any texts or missed calls from you — to which he does find a few texts.

wifey ♡ babe babyyy testsuro !! pls reply as soon as you can :(

tetsu •ᴗ• sweetheart is everything okay  ? are you hurt ? fuck did you burn the house down ? wifey ♡ babyyyy yuh uh everything is fine !! and i only burnt homemade caramel once :( i just can’t write it over text… call me !!!

the raven-haired man stands up from his seat, excusing himself as he pushes the nearest door open with one hand, the fingers of his free hand swiftly tapping over his phone’s screen as he clicks on your contact id — dialing your number. he then places his phone over his ear, leaning his back against the wall behind him as he waits for you to pick up the phone.

as soon as tetsuro hears some shuffle from the other line of his phone he speaks up, not even letting you greet him properly. “sweetie, is there a problem ?” his tone is worried as he waits for your answer, hoping that everything is fine — that you’re alright.

“tetsu—” you start before letting out a laugh, which kinda helps your husband calm down for a bit. “i told you that everything is fine, you don’t have to worry”

on the other end of the phone you can’t help but smile at your husband’s worry for you, which doesn’t fail to make you remember how much he cares about — something that only increased as soon as the first symptoms of your pregnancy appeared. “what is it then ?” tetsuro’s booming voice immediatly brings you back to earth. “it’s just. . . i have a brilliant idea !” you joyfully tell him. the raven-haired man pauses at your exclamation, searching for any guesses of what that idea might be. . . until a grin appears on his face as he finally comes to realization. “is it another wild craving of yours, princess ?” he lets out a chuckle at your answer, laughing to himself as he hears you sigh from the other line of his phone. “my cravings aren’t weird !” you protest, the pout on your lips evident in your tone, which makes your husband’s grin even wider. “so, i’m craving nachos—” you say before the raven-haired man cuts your sentence mid-way. “oh, from which place do you want it babe ? i can get it delivered at home—”

“no ! i want sweet nachos.” you state, a huff leaving your lips.

your husband stands there, a dumbfounded expression written all over his face as he stares ahead of himself, his brain malfunctioning due to your words. any of his coworkers who would pass by would think that something is wrong with him, like he just heard one of the dumbest things on earth — which he kinda did. “sweet nachos— angel that’s not even a thing !”

“but it is a thing since i just invented it !" you exclaim, your voice full of confidence — as if you didn’t imagine the weirdest ‘dish’ in the whole word. "the base is made of chips — not any kind tho, only the original pringles — with a bunch of m&m’s, reese’s, chocolate syrup and whipped cream.” you say, taking the time to explain this whole snack of yours in details. "whipped cream as to be on top of the chips and in a small cup on the side, okay ?"

tetsuro licks his lips as he notes all of the needed ingredients in his minds, shrugging his shoulders before realizing that you can’t see him and speaking up. "yeah, sure. do i need to stop by the grocery store to get the ingredients or nah ?" he asks, which you answer with a simple ‘yes’. He hangs up the phone a few seconds later — after kissing you goodbye through the phone of course — and steps back inside the building for his last meeting of the day.

when your husband finally exits his work building — by 8:45pm exactly — he walks to his car, a white Mercedes-Benz CLE 200 Cabriolet. he opens the front door for himself, dropping all of his papers on the passenger seat next to him. he turns on his car, pressing on a button — making the roof of the convertible disappear inside of the trunk.

after about twenty minutes — and a stop at the grocery store — tetsuro finally parks his car in front of your shared house. he steps out of the car, a brown paper bag in one hand and his stack of papers in the other, a sigh leaving his lips as he pushes onto the front door’s handle, entering your residence.

“i’m home, sweetheart !” your husband calls out to you, taking his shoes off and walking towards the living room.

he smiles as he sees you laying on the couch, your head propped on one of your arms as you watch ‘from up on poppy hill’. he chuckles softly at the sight in front of him, placing his papers on the coffee table and bending over to get a proper look at your face. you glance up at his face when you finally notice his presence. you immediatly lift you head off your arm, a smile making it’s way on your lips as you sit up on the couch, puckering your lips for the raven-haired man to kiss you, which he glady does.

“how was work, baby ?” you ask him, looking up at him while slightly tilting your head to the side. “there’s a some oyakodon and rice in the kitchen that you can heat up in the microwave and the pan.”

“god, princess, i’m gonna wife you up again. . .” tetsuro mutters, resting his forehead against yours before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

he breaks up the kiss and stands up, affectionately flickering your forehead before walking back to the kitchen, turning the lights on. tetsuro notices the bowl of rice on the counter and grabs it, placing it next to the pan. he tears a bit of paper towel with his fingers, damping it with some water before placing it over the bowl. he turns on the microvage, putting the rice to reheat. your husband smiles when he sees the oyakodon heating in the pan on low heat before turning it higher.

he sighs, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt onto his biceps before turning to the paper bag with the groceries he did ealier. once all of your craving’s ingredients are — finally — placed in front of him, tetsuro can start preparing your snack.

he opens the tub of unflavored pringles before placing some chips onto a plate, some whipped cream on top along with chocolate syrup before scattering m&m’s and reese’s on top of everything. he grabs a small cup, pouring some whipped cream inside.

when the time alarm goes off your husband opens the microwage, carefully grabing the rice cowl — without burning himself — before taking the damp paper off the top of the bowl. He moves the pan off the heat, pouring the runny mixture on top of the white rice that he garnishes with green onion, sesame seeds and a bit of togarashi.

in a swift move tetsuro snatches a pair of chopsticks, placing them between his fingers before grabbing both his bowl and your plate, tuning the lights off before walking towards the living room.

“here you go, sweetheart.” he tells you, handing you your plate while you thank him, your bright smile making your eyes squint and your head tilt.

you slide off the couch, now sitting on the floor as you place a pillow under your ass and behind your back, putting your plate on the coffee table in front of you. tetsuro slips down on the floor next to you, slightly bending his upper-body above the table, gathering some of his food between his chopsticks and taking a bite out of it.

you squeal as you takes one of the chips between your fingers, shoving it inside of your mouth. you can’t help the sigh of contentement leaving your lips at the salty and sweet taste you’ve been craving all day. You take another one, doing a small dance of happiness.

“i gotta say, princess, your food taste was already strange, but now ?” tetsuro says, whistling, only for you to slap the back of his head, a huff leaving your lips as a pout tugs at your lips, only for it to be wiped away by your husband’s lips on yours, to which you gladly kiss him back.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Rite of Movement | part eight

“you are the rite of movement”

A/N: wow so this is officially the longest chapter of TROM yet! I suggest you get your vibrators, dildos in check + tissues because baby love, you’re gonna need them! 😭 thank you to my sweet L @endlessthxxghts for betaing this chapter and screaming at me in Google docs over how much you love these characters! It seriously warms my heart 🥹

~word count: 11.8k~

Summary: After jokingly telling Joel that you think that Tommy may have him beat in the pussy eating department, you’re eating your words immediately. It’s a night filled with firsts and of course, lots of orgasms.

Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader x pornstar!tommy

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, dom/sub vibes (heavy on the dom in this chapter) degradation kink, oral f! & male receiving, unprotected piv, denial of orgasm, edging, overstimulation, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink, aftercare, mentions of food, sexual trauma (not done by Joel), mentions of the porn industry, threesome (Joel and Tommy do not touch don’t make it weird pls) there’s a lot of vulnerable and intense sexual moments between Joel and baby love but there is immediate communication after and breaks in between, consent, intimacy, established relationship, Joel is in his 40’s, reader is in her 30’s, coming out, biphobia and aromantic phobia in the queer community, language, pet names, readers nickname is baby love, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

The tension in the room immediately sparked back up from the words you so innocently and breathlessly uttered. The Miller brother’s briefly made eye contact at your admittance and they too could sense the fast rising tension.

Joel’s lips hovered above yours, just barely touching. He held fierce eye contact with you, brow cocked in an almost condescending fashion, “you didn’t mean that, right baby love? M’sure you didn’t, sweet girl.” He rasped, dragging his thumb against your plush, lower lip, pressing down on it gently, “cus’ we’d have a bit of a problem on our hands if ya meant it.”

“We certainly would.” Tommy chuckled.

“Mean what?” You feigned innocence, leaning in to kiss him, but he was playing hard to get.

“You know exactly what you said, baby love. You really think Tommy can eat your pussy better than I can?”

Oh fuck.

“He did a pretty good job, daddy. He might have you beat…”

He clicked his skillful tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting his hand dip from your face and settle around the base of your throat like a necklace, “baby love…” he warned you, “I’d be careful with what you’re sayin.’”

You giggled softly, “why, daddy? You gonna get jealous if I think Tommy is better?”

“Jus’ might.” He grumbled.

“Well, I see there being only one way to determine who’s the better pussy eater.” Tommy chimed in.

You tore your gaze from Joel’s face over to Tommy’s smirking one, “what way would that be exactly?”

“Oh, just a little friendly pussy eatin’ competition. Winner gets to fuck you first.”

Joel fought the urge to scoff at his brother's suggestion. “Yeah, well, you’re at an unfair advantage cus’ of my bad back and all that. Ain’t gonna be able to kick your ass if we’re doin’ this right here, right now.”

Now the attention was turned directly back to you. Two pairs of dark brown eyes locked on your face. “I like your thinking, Tommy. Why don’t you both take me upstairs? That way Joel has a fair advantage.”

“Aw, well ain’t that sweet! Babygirl wants to make sure you get a fair advantage with your old man back. Now, if that ain’t true love, I don’t know what is!”

“Shut up, Tommy. I ain’t that old.” Joel grumbled, leaning in to brush his nose right below your pulse point. “S’that what you want, baby love? Want me and Tommy to eat your sweet little pussy and you decide who’s better at it?”

You swallowed hard, taking a sharp inhale of breath when he pressed a kiss against your pulse point, nipping it gently with his teeth. “Yeah, daddy. I want that.”

“Good girl.” He murmured against your skin, blindly reaching down to tuck himself back into his shorts.

Your legs felt like jello when Joel and Tommy stood on either side of you, helping you up from the chair. Tommy pressed a kiss to your cheek, letting it linger for a moment before he headed up the stairs first. Joel stayed back with you, bending down to grab your discarded shorts and panties. “You won’t be needin’ these for the rest of the evening, unless you wanna take a little break?” He was studying your face intently, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

“I’m okay, baby. Thank you for checking in on me. Think I’m just gonna get a glass of water. Would you like one?” You draped your arms around his middle, hugging him loosely.

“Of course, baby love. Gotta make sure my girl is enjoying herself, after all. I’d love a glass of water. I’ll pack up the leftovers real quick and then we’ll head upstairs?”

“Oh, she’s enjoying herself plenty. Dream come true, honestly.” You kissed his cheek then, dropping your arms from around his middle. But before you could slip away, he was pulling you right back in and kissing you sweetly.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” He was, truly. With past partners, both in the industry and out, there was a level of acting that Joel would find himself partaking in. Sometimes it felt genuine and natural, other times he felt awkward, but not necessarily forced. With you, there was no second guessing, no nerves or apprehension. He was simply acting upon his feelings.

After Joel finished putting away the leftovers and you grabbed yourself and him a glass of water, he followed you up the stairs, fingers playfully tickling your sides, eliciting soft giggles to slip past your lips.

Tommy had made himself comfortable on the couch pushed up against the wall while he was scrolling through his socials. He sat up at the sound of yours and Joel’s voices echoing up the stairs. “Damn. S’about time! Thought y’all were gettin’ busy down there.” He tossed his phone to the side of the couch, hopping up enthusiastically.

You made your way over to the bed, flopping down on your back, wasting no time to rid yourself of your flimsy tank top and tossed it to the side. Now you were completely naked, thighs spreading open, knees bending at a relaxed angle while your hand slowly dipped down between your parted thighs, dragging your fingers through your slick folds, gathering up the pearlescent fluid from your prior orgasm and spread it languidly around your clit with a soft, content hum. “So, which one of you boys wants to have a taste first?”

Tommy was already making his way towards the bed before Joel stopped him, giving him a firm shove with his shoulder. “You’ve had your fill.” He nearly growled, eyes set in a challenging stare, “move the fuck outta my way.”

Tommy retreated very much like a submissive dog with its tails between his legs. He held his hands up, taking a few steps back from the bed. “Someone is a little antsy.” He muttered under his breath.

Joel didn’t even hear Tommy muttering, he was zoned in on you completely as he peeled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side with yours. One big hand dropped between your thighs and lightly slapped your hand away, eyes narrowing on your surprised face. “Did I fuckin’ say that you could touch yourself, baby love? Actin’ like such a needy little slut for daddy, ain’t ya?” He pressed his thumb directly against your clit, rubbing the little nub in slow circles.

“I’m sorry—daddy.” You squeaked out, leaning back on your elbows for support. “Are you angry with me?”

“No, baby, course not. Jus’ think you’re a bad girl for sayin’ that Tommy can eat your pussy better than I can. Think m’gonna have you eatin’ those words right up in a few minutes.” He exudes confidence, making it very clear who is in charge here. And god, does that make you drip along the sheets with want.

“Are you sure you’re not upset with me, daddy? Because if you are…I think you should punish me, and Tommy films it.”

“Bet your slutty little pussy would love a good punishing, huh baby love? S’that what she wants?” He didn’t wait for you to respond as he leaned down, spitting a glob of saliva right over your clit, smearing it in with his thumb. “Bad girls don’t get what they fuckin’ want, baby.”

You mewled softly, thighs falling open further till you felt his calloused palms halt your movements entirely, he grasped the outside of your thighs, pushing them towards your chest. “Grab onto those for me and don’t let ‘em go.” He rasped.

You did as you were told, grabbing onto the underside of your thighs and kept your knees pressed against your chest.

“Good girl.” He preened, “how do you feel about us filmin’ this, baby love? You want that?”

“Fuck, yes, please daddy.” You didn’t even take a second to think through your answer. It was an immediate and eager yes.

He snapped his fingers, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. “Make yourself useful and grab my camera off the charger, Tommy.”

Tommy muttered something unintelligible under his breath, fighting the urge to flick his brother off as he went to grab the camera. He situated himself alongside Joel, turning the camera on and wasted no time to zoom in between your thighs just as a drool of slick dripped down from your hole.

“See that? She’s drippin’ for me. That ain’t for you.” Joel snarked.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how long that lasts.” Tommy quipped back.

The rules to the competition were simple, whoever made you cum first with just their mouths alone, would get to fuck you first. No hands, no toys, just some good ole fashion pussy eating. Joel did already have an advantage considering he knew your body like it was the back of his hand, but that didn’t rule Tommy out completely.

The prospect of the two Miller brothers beefing over you had you giggling at their competitive nature, but when you felt Joel drag his tongue from your hole and up your slit to your clit, your giggles quickly turned to soft moans. Unlike Tommy, Joel liked to take his time savoring you on his tongue. He suckled your clit between his lips, dark brown eyes peering up at you between thick lashes. He gently rolled the nub between his teeth, the sensation sent your eyes rolling back into your skull, a broken cry breaching your parted lips.

“Those are the sounds I fuckin’ love to hear from ya, baby love.” He murmured against your mound, pulling his face back to spit on your clit again, “can’t wait to fuck your sweet little needy pussy when I’m finished with ya.”

You clenched from his words, lips moving, but no coherent words left your mouth. Of course once he was really getting into it, Tommy got impatient, pushing Joel out of the way in a similar fashion that was done to him.

“My turn.” He nearly snapped as he placed the camera in Joel’s hands. “Drop your thighs for me babygirl, and spread ‘em nice and wide.” He wrapped his arms around your middle, big hands splayed across your stomach to keep you pinned down in his hold. He shot you a wink between your thighs before he got to work, using his tongue to fuck your little hole before dragging it up to your clit, flicking it at a faster pace than his brother.

When Joel felt like Tommy had enough, he forced his way right back in, pushing his brother out of the way and this time the camera ended up in your hands where you shakily filmed from your own POV while Joel brought one of your thighs over his shoulder for easier access. His mouth was becoming more aggressive, your sharp cries alerting him that you were close and he could nearly taste his victory on the horizon. This time, Tommy had nearly shoved Joel off the bed completely resulting in the two men to snap at one another between your thighs like two feral dogs fighting over a piece of meat.

The sight alone had you seeing stars behind your eyes. You let out a surprised yelp when Joel had manhandled you onto your stomach, causing you to nearly drop the camera when he pried your thighs apart with his thick fingers and buried his face between them. The slurping sounds his mouth was making was nothing short of obscene as he shook his head back and forth, his beard scraped against your inner thighs as you arched your back and ass into his face.

“O—oh fuck! Joel! FUCK!” You cried out, thighs beginning to tremble and quiver, the coil in your stomach was pulled impossibly tight and threatening to snap at any given moment.

“That’s it, baby love. Good fuckin’ girl. Want you to come all over daddy’s face. You know who the winner is, sweet girl. It’s your fuckin’ daddy.” He growled possessively against your pussy as you rocked your hips back against his face.

He pulled back from between your thighs with a triumphant smirk plastered on his face at the sight of your release slowly dripping from your hole and down the inside of your thigh. He reached around for the camera, gently removing it from your hands and brought it up close to your leaking pussy, “fuckin’ look at that. Drippin’ all over the goddamn sheets, baby love.” He preened.

“Guess I shoulda thought about eating her out from behind before you did, huh brother?” Tommy snorted alongside him, leaning over to grab both of your cheeks and spread them open so they both could see your pussy slowly pulse and push out another trail of slick.

“I—I need a minute.” You breathed out and slowly let your stomach come to rest along the comforter as you caught your breath, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Joel flipped the camera off, setting it off to the side of the bed before he crawled up alongside you, Tommy settled in behind you while Joel gently lifted your face from the comforter to rest it along his lap. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles while Tommy was nuzzling his face against the nape of your neck, pressing a few kisses to your skin while his hand curved around your ass, gently massaging the plump flesh between his fingers.

“That—that was something.” You finally spoke again, glancing up at Joel while his fingers were now giving your head a gentle massage, blunt nails scratching at your scalp in a soothing motion.

“We know, baby love. You did so good for us.” Joel cooed, “We don’t have to do anything else tonight if you just wanna rest.”

“No—no. I want you both to fuck me.” You shook your head, curling your fingers around his bare knee, “and the rules were that whoever makes me cum first gets to fuck me first. So, daddy. What are you waiting for?”

“Mmm.” He hummed, “baby love, you’re truly jus’ the sweetest thing. Ain’t she, Tommy?”

“Mhm” Tommy rumbled behind you, his fingers had slipped down between your cheeks, gently gliding his fingers through your slick folds to keep you stimulated. “She sure is a sweet thing.”

“How about you give him a little bit of sugar while daddy goes and sets up the cameras. How’s that sound, baby love? I bet he would love it if you sucked his cock. Give him a little bit of lovin.’”

You lazily grinned up at him before slowly sitting up and glanced over your shoulder at Tommy. “You were a close second.” You reassured him and reached behind you to palm him through his shorts, “Joel’s right, you deserve a little bit of sugar, too.”

“Thanks, babygirl, but Joel had me beat from the start.” He chuckled, “M’never one to turn down receiving a bit of sugar.” He grinned, shooting you a playful wink as he slipped his hand out from between your thighs and rolled over onto his back to shimmy his shorts down over his hips.

You stayed resting on your stomach, ankles crossed behind your head, as you scooted southwards along the bed. His cock sprung free, gently slapping against his stomach. His pubes, including his balls, were shaved completely compared to Joel. A small detail that you didn’t notice the first time you and Tommy fucked. You wrapped your fist around the base of his cock, giving the soft, velvety skin a few slow tugs before you leaned over and left a few kitten licks across his tip. He let out a soft grunt of approval, tilting his head back as you slipped the crown of his cock past your lips, sucking sweetly on it.

Joel was preoccupied with maneuvering himself around the room, setting up multiple cameras and messing with the lighting and such.

“Christ, brother.” Tommy sharply inhaled. “Your girl sure has a sweet mouth on her, fuck.”

“Mhm. She sure does. Best head I’ve ever fuckin’ had.” Joel mused, setting up the final camera to face the bed on the side that you were laying on. Once the camera was set, he leaned over the side of the bed, thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone. Even with your mouth stuffed with Tommy’s cock, he could tell you were smiling.

“Bein’ such a good sweet lil’ cockslut for Tommy. Ain’t ya, baby love? Probably s’a nice break for your pretty throat.” He snickered.

All you could do was dumbly nod at his question, taking Tommy’s cock deeper down your throat as he let out a deep grunt, thick fingers curling around the crown of your head. “Fuck, yeah. Such a pretty sight gettin’ to watch your girl suck on my cock like this.” He gently pressed down on your head, silently encouraging you to take more of him down your throat till your nose was pressing against his pubic bone, “seriously, could just lay here for fuckin’ hours.”

Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes at his brothers goading as he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the back of your head, whispering, “suckin’ on his cock so prettily, got daddy here nearly leakin’ through his shorts.”

He pulled back slowly, addressing his brother directly, “yeah, well, you ain’t about to steal away all the fun from me, Tommy.” He snipped.

You whimpered softly around Tommy’s cock, drool pooling around the corners of your mouth as you gagged around him, giving yourself a moment to breathe as you slowly pulled your mouth off from his cock with a wet pop!

“Relax, Joel.” Tommy chided, “I wouldn’t dream of takin’ that away from you.”

“C’mere, daddy.” You beckoned him sweetly as you sat up on your knees, scooting over to the edge of the bed as you reached for the hem of his shorts, “wanna gag on your cock again. Get it all nice and wet before you fuck me.” You grasped the hem of his shorts, pulling the elastic back before letting it playfully snap against his hips.

Your eagerness to please him sent blood flowing southwards between his thighs as he leaned over and grasped your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting it upwards so you were looking up at him. “Yeah, baby love? That’s what my eager little cockslut wants, is daddy's cock stuffed down her pretty little throat?” He mused, lips curving into a grin as his thumb gently swiped through a stray strand of drool that was glistening on the corner of your lips.

You nodded dumbly, eyes bright, nearly twinkling under his gaze as you reached for the hem of his shorts once more, leaning in closer, “yeah, daddy.” You cooed, “I want to suck on yours and Tommy’s cock…at the same time. I want to be a good little cockslut for both of you. Do you want that, too?”

It was at that moment that Joel fucking Miller not only forgot his own name, but his birthday and his age. His brain short-circuited, pulse rushing fast in his ears. He nodded, swallowing hard as he regained his composure, “y-yeah.” He stuttered, “fuck—yeah, baby love.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tommy snickered. “You damn near broke my brother, babygirl.”

Something indescribable flashes across your lover's eyes when you teasingly pull his hard cock free, beckoning him to come closer with a simple curl of your fingers, and that devious glint in your eyes.

“Get to it then.” He snips, surprisingly both you and himself at his sudden change of tone.

Tommy immediately picks up on the obvious shift in the room, and opts to fall into his submissive role beneath his brother. When he opens his mouth to speak, Joel shushes him.

“No. You ain’t gettin’ outta this. She wants to suck both our cocks like a good fuckin’ slut and that’s what she’s gonna do, and then I’m goin’ split her apart with my fuckin’ cock and you’re gonna watch and patiently wait for your turn.”

“Daddy—” you start, but Joel isn’t having any of it when he bends over to the side of the bed where you’re sitting back on your thighs looking up at him expectantly. His big, meaty hand comes to grasp your chin, yanking your head upwards as he leans down further, asserting his dominance, “zip it, baby love. Don’t wanna hear a peep from you. Jus’ the pretty sounds your mouth makes when you’re chokin’ on daddy’s cock, you got that?”

“Yes—”

He shakes his head, applying a bit of pressure to your jaw, causing your eyes to widen slightly. “What did I just fuckin’ say? Not a peep. Nod your head if you understand what daddy’s sayin’ to ya.”

You dumbly nod your head in tandem, squeezing your thighs together from his authoritative nature taking over.

“Atta girl. That’s a good cockslut. Now, open up that pretty mouth for daddy and put it to some good fuckin’ use, baby love.”

Your mouth falls open on command, and maybe a bit of shock as well. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to see Joel’s dominant side more often. You loved when he called you a slut, his slut, his whore, his to take. Did this make you a bit of a masochist? Maybe, but that meant fuck all to you when you obediently stuck your tongue out, awaiting his cock.

A satisfied smirk crossed his handsome features at your willingness to obey. It had been years since his time at Brazzers, and even in Miller-Co his partners before you preferred sex with him to be vanilla, and sometimes he would sprinkle in a little dash of dominance, but nothing quite like the display he was putting on now. A phase of him that once laid dormant, was quickly reawakening right before your very eyes. As if a switch inside of him was flipped on, whirring to life.

He grasped the base of his heavy cock between his fist, guiding the fat cockhead to rest along your tongue.

“Wider.” He rasps as he slowly begins to feed you his cock, watching tears spring to the corner of your eyes when he forces you to stretch your jaw further around the thick girth of him. “That’s it.” He preens, “you can fuckin’ take it. You can take all of me down that pretty little throat. Gonna have you chokin’ and droolin’ all over daddy’s fat fuckin’ cock, baby love.”

his freehand comes to rest along the back of your head, nails scraping at your scalp when the tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat. You gag around him, drool leaking from the edges of your stretched mouth as you try to pull back for air, but he doesn’t allow you. “No.” He sternly chides, brows furrowed as he looks down at you, “Breathe through your nose, baby love. You’re doin’ so good for daddy.” A brief moment of softness, and a reminder to you that you were safe. This wasn’t Brazzers, this was your Joel.

Your nostrils flare at his words, tears beginning to spill over your waterline, not due to being in any physical pain, but more-so for the fact that this is an incredibly intense moment for you both to be experiencing.

“That’s it.” He coos, “relax your jaw. Relax, baby love. You’re safe.” He loosens his grip around your head, tenderly stroking your hair in a soothing motion. “That’s my girl.”

Tommy captures the whole thing on camera. From your drool trailing down your chin and throat, to the girth of his cock stretching your mouth open, to the way that you and Joel are looking at one another through your tears. An intense gaze that neither party breaks. You’ve never trusted anyone in your life like you trust your Joel.

You breathe through the discomfort, dragging your nose through the thatch of curls at the base of his cock, lashes fluttering, eyes rolling back when he slowly juts his hips into your face in a gentle rocking motion. He does this for a few thrusts before he finally releases you, slipping his cock out of your mouth as you gasp for air.

His big palms come to rest along your cheeks, wiping away your tears and shushing you with soft praises. Just as he expected, you’re hungry for more, feeling a newfound confidence wash over you as you reach for both of their cocks. The two brothers exchange a brief glance at one another as you take Tommy’s cock into your mouth, wrapping your fist around Joel’s cock to keep him stimulated.

What a sight you are, sitting prettily on your knees, eyes still glassy from the tears you shed around Joel’s cock. Tommy holds the camera between his hands, getting a close up of your mouth working around him, staring directly into the lens with that sultry gaze. Your pussy is drooling for attention, pulsing at the prospect of getting fucked very, very soon.

The room is heady and coated in a fine layer of sex-induced haze that hangs around the three of you like a cloak. Joel is the first to make a move when he feels that you’ve had enough of Tommy’s cock down your throat and pulls you back to him.

You can’t deny how much you’re enjoying being a little fuck toy for the two Miller Brothers, your throat now stuffed full of Joel’s cock as your fist works around Tommy’s. When you feel like you need a breather, you slip Joel’s cock from your mouth, a translucent thread of saliva dangles from the tip of his cock all the way to your glistening lips.

Now with one hand around Tommy, and one hand around Joel, you rub their cock heads all over your cheeks, lightly slapping yourself with the smooth velvet skin with a cockdrunk look plastered all over your pretty face.

“That’s it. That’s the fuckin’ shot of the century right there.” Tommy chuckles, “we got ourselves the prettiest little cockslut on her knees for us, brother.”

“My cockslut.” Joel doesn’t hesitate to correct him. “My pretty little cockslut who is gonna be stuffed fuckin’ full of daddy’s cum soon.” He rasps, shooting you a subtle wink from above.

Your eyes roll back from his words, spreading your knees further apart in a desperate attempt to grind your pussy along the mattress for any form of relief. You’re aching for any attention, and your Joel revels in the sight of you looking like this.

“Please, Daddy. Please.” Are the only words you’re able to get out as you roll your hips against the mattress.

“Please what, baby love? Look at you,” he coos, “filthy lil’ thing rubbing your sweet cunt all over the mattress like a fuckin’ desperate cockslut. Need your pussy stuffed that bad, baby? S’that it? Need daddy’s cock so bad?”

Oh.

You didn’t expect your Joel to be so…mean and condescending, but you welcomed it eagerly with a swift nod of your head.

“‘Atta girl.” He smirks. “Now, drop Tommy’s cock, baby love and come to daddy.” He demands, curling one of his broad fingers at his side in a come hither motion.

You work on autopilot, dropping Tommy’s cock from your grasp and focusing all your attention on Joel.

“Fuckin’ spit on it, baby love. Spit all over daddy’s fat cock and get it nice and wet for me with that pretty mouth of yours. Don’t think we’re gonna need extra lubrication with the way your pussy is droolin’ all over the goddamn mattress.” He snickers. “But just for the hell of it.”

You waste no time to spit a glob of saliva all over his fat cockhead, watching in a transfixed gaze when he wraps his own fist around himself, smearing in your saliva with his precum. “Good girl, baby love. S’good for daddy. M’gonna reward you now, okay?”

You nod expectantly, briefly glancing over at Tommy who is leisurely stroking his own cock to keep himself hard and stimulated while he would patiently wait his turn to fuck you after his brother.

“Thank you, daddy.” You let out a relieved sigh thinking that he finally was going to give you his cock and stretch you open.

“Wouldn’t go thankin’ me so soon, baby love. Haven’t given ya nothin’ yet.” He reminds you with a stern look that sends your heart racing. “Now, on your back for me. Spread your thighs so daddy can see that pretty soaked pussy. Wanna see all of her.”

There’s a soreness and slight ache in your jaw that you haven’t felt in years up until now. Remnants of your tears stained your cheeks in a salty trail. Joel can see the gears turning in your head, the flicker of emotions behind your eyes. You’re not afraid…it’s more of an apprehension if anything as you reach one hand up to gently rub the soreness in your jaw.

Joel clocks in on your discomfort, glancing over at his brother before he leans over and murmurs something to him. Tommy nods in understanding, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pads out of the room, his heavy cock bobbing between his thighs.

“Baby love, you doin’ okay?” Joel softly asks as his hands gently slide up the expanse of your thighs, easing you onto your back. “…Am I bein’ too much? Baby, I can dial it back, okay? I shoulda—”

“Joel.” You sigh softly, meeting his softened and concerned gaze, “I’m okay, baby. I’m just…feeling a lot right now.”

“I can tell.” He nods in understanding. “Can see it in your eyes, my sweet girl. That’s why we’re gonna take a breather.”

You attempt to sit up on your elbows, feeling shame creep its way up your spine. You’re afraid now, afraid that you’ve disappointed him so soon. That silly brain of yours can be so fucking mean sometimes and you truly wish that you could just turn it off, especially in a moment like this.

“No—no, it’s fine, Joel. I’m fine.” You weakly argue, attempting to put up a façade that he immediately sees right through.

“You ain’t, and that’s okay. I can see the fuckin’ gears whirring in your brain right now, baby.” His argument is soft spoken, not meant to further upset you as his fingers gently play with the tuft of damp curls above your mound.

“I just…I don’t want to disappoint you, okay? I know it seems silly, but I just feel so fucking vulnerable right now.” There’s a moment of relief and weight lifted off your shoulders when you finally put your feelings into words. You’re half expecting a snarky remark with a clipped tone. He can feel you tense up, thighs growing stiff as an unpleasant shiver runs down your spine.

“If you think that this is about to turn into a therapy session where you make everyone in the room to take pity on you, you’re dead fucking wrong, girl. You honestly think your feelings matter? They don’t. Not in this industry, and you knew this when you signed up. No one here is gonna wipe your tears, so I suggest you wipe them yourself and suck it up. You want to get paid, don’t you? Good. The sooner you quit your whining, the sooner you can ice your jaw.”

You can hear the director at Brazzers snapping in your ear now after you tapped out from a gangbang scene that got too intense. Making you feel worse than you already do. But you were young, fresh to the industry and you thought that maybe you could handle it, but the truth was…you couldn’t.

Joel’s eye begins to twitch, his hand on your thigh flexes, knuckles growing tight when he imagines the degradation and cruelty you faced at Brazzers. It split his heart right down the middle, tearing it by the seams when he hears the pain in your tone, and your fear that you have disappointed him. This couldn’t be further from the truth; you could never disappoint him.

“Baby love, you could never disappoint me, okay? Never. Not in a million fuckin’ years. You just being here in this moment with me, is all I can ever ask for, okay? If you’re feeling scared right now, I need you to tell me. If I’m being too much, too aggressive, too dominant, please tell me, okay?”

“My jaw just really fucking hurts.” You blurt out, masking your words with a forced laugh.

“I know it does, baby. Tommy’s getting you some ice, okay? We don’t have to do that again.”

You sit up finally, grasping him by his broad shoulders and pull him up your body so he’s straddling your hips. “I’m not scared, Joel. You’re not being too much, okay? I actually really love to see this dominant side of you, baby.” You press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I want to do that again because I trust you, and want to have these experiences with you.”

“…You do?” He sounds unsure of himself as he kisses you back, winding his arms around your waist as he gently lifts you into his lap, his cock is still hard and wedged between your stomachs. “I won’t dial it back then, but I just want you to know that I’m not going to push you past your limits, but I will always encourage you to go further because I know that you can. I think back to when we first met and you were so fuckin’ scared over how I would react to the list of things that you were uncomfortable doing, and how from that point forward, i’ve wanted to show you that those painful, and fucked up experiences at Brazzers can be turned into something…liberating for you.” He murmurs, tightening his grip around you.

“Baby, I think it’s so fucking sexy that you’re becoming more familiar and comfortable with your dominate side. I like calling you daddy, and I’m really into you calling me a little cockslut and whatever else that dirty mind of yours conjures up. Joel, I feel so safe with you. The safest I have ever felt with any partner. You inspire me to be more open, to feel less shameful of my feelings and dealing with my trauma. You’re literally my fucking rock, you know that?”

Before your Joel can even process your genuine words and utter out a reply, Tommy has returned, clearing his throat to make his presence known as he leans against the doorjamb with a bag of frozen peas in his hand. “Hey, princess.” He cracks a comforting grin, “couldn’t find an ice pack, but I figured frozen peas would do the trick? Oh, and you’re insanely fucking good at deepthroating—my god.” He gushes earnestly.

You stifle a giggle, looking over Joel’s shoulder. “You’re not just saying that to fuck with me, right Tommy? Am I really that good?”

He laughs, pushing himself off the side of the door before he joins the two of you on the bed. “Babygirl, I am a man who never lies. You’re head game is un-fucking-real.”

“He’s right, baby love. You were chokin’ on daddy’s cock like a pro.” Joel adds with a reassuring smile. “M’so proud of you, baby love. Always so proud of my girl.”

You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at both of their praises as your confidence slowly begins to return. You press a chaste kiss to Joel’s lips before reaching over his shoulder for the bag of peas.

Joel kisses you back, keeping you secured in his arms as you ice the sore spot on your jaw. Both he and Tommy are beyond considerate and patient and you truly couldn’t be anymore grateful than you feel right now.

Once the soreness in your jaw has considerably dissipated, you hand the now half frozen peas back to Tommy and wind your hand through the back of Joel’s sweaty curls, kissing him with more conviction, “okay, daddy. I’m ready for you to split me open with your cock now. I can take it, I want to take it. Want you to give me your worst.” You mumble against his lips, feeling his cock jump between your pressed bodies from your lewd verbiage.

“Oh, daddy’s gonna give you his fuckin’ worst, alright.” He growls, kissing you deeper while his hands slide under your ass, squeezing the soft flesh of your cheeks firmly. “Gonna make you beg for daddy’s cock, baby love.”

-

The room feels hot, ten times hotter than it’s ever felt as Joel purposely edges you with his cock, pressing the girth of him inside of you before he draws his hips back out. You’re a sobbing, blubbering mess, soaked in sweat. Each time he thrusts into you, his cockhead punches your cervix and it’s a torturous pattern that leaves your thighs quivering at the angle they’re spread at.

Tommy is kneeled behind your head, camera between his hands again while your hand is wrapped loosely around his cock, stroking it at an erratic pace as your back bows from the mattress, hips rolling forward to meet Joel’s periodic thrusts.

“D—daddy, please! Please—fuck.” You let out a whine. You sound so desperate, so needy to come, and you’re right where Joel wants you.

“Aw cute.” He coos in a condescending tone, “You think you’re just gonna get what you want jus’ cus’ you asked daddy so nicely? That’s not how this works, baby love. You’re gonna take whatever daddy fuckin’ gives ya, and you’re gonna act grateful for daddy’s cock.”

“Better listen to him, babygirl.” Tommy warns you from above. “Think you mighta bruised his ego earlier.”

Your eyes flit upwards to meet Tommy’s smirking gaze before they land back on Joel, right down to where he has one hand gripping the inside of your thigh, keeping it pressed open to his liking, and the other rests around the base of his cock. He’s only rewarding you with half of his girth, pulling out completely when he feels your pussy clench down around him. He knows you’re so fucking close, and yet he refuses to allow you the satisfaction to come.

“But—but daddy!” You sob, “you said you weren’t upset with me for saying that Tommy might have you beat! Daddy, please! I’m sorry! Please just let your good girl come.” You begged him.

“Yeah, well, daddy might have lied earlier, baby love. Daddy’s ego is a little bruised over the fact that his perfect girl would even think that Tommy can eat her sweet little pussy better than I can.” He chuckles, eyes casting downwards to your tight little hole pulsing around air as he rubs his wet cockhead all over your puffy clit. “You misunderstood, baby love. Daddy isn’t upset, he’s just a little…angry s’all.”

Your eyes roll back from the sensation, letting out another pathetic sob when he taps his cockhead a few times against your already sensitive clit causing your hips to jolt upwards. “Daddy, I’m so sorry! Please, daddy. I promise I’ll be a good little cockslut for you! I’ll never make a silly comment like that again! You’re the best, daddy.”

“Oh, baby.” He sighs, almost as if he does pity you, “I don’t think you are sorry at all, baby love. And I don’t think you’re grateful for daddy’s cock and what he’s giving you.” He tuts, shaking his head. “Tommy, do you think she’s bein’ grateful right now?”

“Not at all, brother. She’s bein’ an ungrateful little slut.” He taps the side of your cheek with his cock. “So fuckin’ ungrateful.”

“No—no! That’s not true! Daddy, I am so grateful for your cock! I am!” You try to sound convincing, but Joel is unimpressed.

“Thas’ all Y’got for me, baby love? Mmm. I think you need a little encouragement.” He decides as he slips his cock back into your tight, hugging warmth all the way to the hilt. Punching the air from your lungs as you gasp his name.

Your words come out fragmented and broken when he suddenly draws his hips back and thrusts them forward without warning, knocking your body back against the mattress. He does this again, and again. Each thrust increases in speed till he’s jackhammering you into the mattress, shaking the frame against the wall with how much force he’s exerting. His one hand stays firmly clamped around your thigh while the other is splayed against your mound, thumb firmly pressed into your clit, working it in fast, vigorous circles.

“Tell daddy that you’re grateful for his cock, baby love! Tell him that you’re grateful for everything that he’s givin’ you! Cause if you don’t? Daddy will pull out right now, and you don’t fuckin’ get to come.” His voice is gravelly, scratching your eardrums just right with how primal he sounds.

“I—I’m so grateful for your cock, daddy! S-so grateful! Thank you, daddy! Thank you!”

“Yeah, thas’ right, baby love. Thas’ fuckin’ right. Perfect little cockslut is so-so grateful for her daddy’s cock. Fuck yeah, you are.” He grunts deeply, giving you one last solid thrust before he slips out completely. You don’t even get a chance to recover before you’re being flipped over onto your stomach by a new set of hands.

Tommy grips you firmly by the hips, yanking your ass upwards as your face falls flat against the mattress. He fists his cock a few times and uses his thumb and forefinger to guide his cock into you, watching the way your body immediately sucks him until his length is fully inside of you and his hips are firmly pressed against your ass. “Always such a tight fuckin’ fit, babygirl.” He preens as he draws his hips back before thrusting them forward.

Your mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape, eyes glazed over and blissed out completely. Joel watches from behind the camera as Tommy grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head backwards, forcing you to push yourself up on your forearms.

Joel intently watches the way your ass recoils against Tommy’s hips with each heavy, skin slapping thrust that he delivers you. His voice is still commanding, even when he’s not directly next to you.

“You take his cock so well, baby love. Fuckin’ love seein’ you gettin’ fucked like this. You gonna come all over his cock? Yeah, you are. Only when daddy tells you too, right?”

Your head snaps over in his direction, a fucked out smile tugging across your lips when you meet his gaze, “y—yes, daddy. Only when you tell me too.”

“Thas’ it. There’s my good little obedient cockslut.” He grins proudly, even giving you a cheeky little thumbs up before you're lost in the moment all over again. And when Joel gives you the permission to come, you’re gushing around Tommy’s cock on command. You don’t moan Tommy’s name, however. Oh, no. The only words you can form are daddy.

Tommy slips out, letting your body flop to the mattress like a limp fish before his hands pry your cheeks apart so he can watch your release pulse and drool down the seam of your pussy. He moves out of the way when Joel approaches the bed and hands the camera off to his brother before his calloused hands are gently maneuvering you onto your back.

“Baby love, I wanna try somethin’ with you, okay? Are you up for it, or is my girl positively fucked out now?” He asks teasingly, gently pinching your hips between his fingers.

You let out a squeal, lazily moving to swat his hands away when he pinches your skin. “Mmm…I’m so fucked out right now, daddy, but what do you want to try?”

He drops his hands from your hips and rests them between the apex of your thighs so his thumbs can spread your inner lips open, “wanna make you squirt, baby love. I know you were told before that you couldn’t, but that’s not true. You can, and I’m going to get you there but only if you want to, okay?”

“Y—you want to make me squirt? Daddy…I—I can’t. They told me I couldn’t and I believed them. I love you, I really do. But I can’t.”

“Baby love, you can. The only reason why you couldn’t before is because there was a mental block you were facing. You weren’t with the right people at the time. It wasn’t even your fault that you were fired, okay? Those fuckwads didn’t care enough to cater to your needs, but I’m here. I want you to experience this because it’s so fuckin’ special, baby. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before.” Joel reassures you.

“And I’m gonna be your personal cheerleader, babygirl. Gonna hype you up the whole time, okay?” Tommy says from behind the camera, kneeling on the opposite side of where Joel is positioned between your thighs. “You can even hold my hand, if ya want.” He adds gently.

“What if you’re wrong, daddy? What if I truly can’t? What if they were right and—”

“Shh.” He says softly, eyes locking onto yours in a gentle yet intense stare, “they weren’t right, baby love. They were just a bunch of jackasses that couldn’t see your potential like I can. And you know what? This ain’t about me. This is about you gaining back your autonomy that they fuckin’ stole from you. You trust me, don’t you? Let me do this for you, please.”

“Joel.” Your voice waivers, fresh brewing tears threatening to spill over, Of course I trust you. I—I want to prove them wrong. I want to prove myself wrong.”

“That’s my girl. That’s my fuckin’ girl.” He preens.

-

It starts off with just two of his fingers; middle and ring finger knuckle deep, curling and shallowly thrusting inside of you. It’s not enough, but Joel doesn’t give up. He orders Tommy to grab one of your favorite toys, a hitachi wand. Joel uses his freehand to turn it to the lowest setting before gently placing it directly against your clit. The sensation is immediately too much and your body is naturally trying to escape, but Joel keeps your hips centered and on the mattress.

“I got you, baby love, daddy’s got you. You’re doing so good for me already. So-so fuckin’ good.”

You’re a mess of moans, a mixture of dripping profanities as you claw at the sheets, feeling your thighs begin to quiver and shake all over again. The feeling is more intense, more real than anything you have felt in this setting before. The coil in your stomach is pulled tighter, and tighter, and tighter.

Tommy reaches for one of your hands, letting your clammy fingers interlock through his as you grip onto him for dear life.

“I—can’t, daddy! It’s too much! Please—it’s too much!” You sob, tears making their way down your cheeks for what feels like the millionth time tonight. You’re surely going to need to hydrate extra after this.

“Yes you can, baby love! You can! I believe in you, Tommy believes in you. You’re so fuckin’ close I can feel it now. Can’t you? The burning hot coil being pulled tight in your tummy? Can’t you feel that?” He asks over the whir and buzz of the vibrator and the wet squelch of your pussy around his fingers, crooking them inwards. Your hips jolt, and you let out a scream that hopefully Joel’s neighbors can’t hear. It’s a scream not of pain, but relief, releasing all of your self-doubt and negativity that you had felt ever since you were wrongfully fired from Brazzers.

Joel Miller was showing you just how fucking amazing your body was, and the limits it could be pushed to. He was proving to you that there wasn’t anything you possibly couldn’t do. No challenge you couldn’t face. Fuck what Brazzers thought about you, or the judgement from your parents and the societal pressure you faced every single day as a woman. Your body was beautiful, powerful, and capable.

“There you go, baby! There you go!” Your Joel announced in excitement, his heart swelling with nothing but pride for his baby love. “Let go, my girl. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” He promised, crooking his fingers faster till he felt your body spasm, and a gush of wet spray coated his hand, forearm and everywhere in between.

Your ears were ringing, mind going fuzzy and Joel’s and Tommy’s voices sounded muffled as you saw stars dot your vision. Once your body started, you couldn’t stop even after Joel slipped his fingers out of you and tossed the vibrator off to the side, your pussy continued to squirt along the mattress till there was nothing left.

He was right, Joel was always right. Squirting for the first time was like nothing you had experienced before, and it felt so fucking liberating.

You faintly felt his warm lips between your thighs, lips suckling on your clit before they kissed their way up your body. Your eyes were half open when his hands cradled your face between them, thumbs stroking and brushing away your free falling tears. “You did it, my girl. I knew you could do it.” He whispered, sweat slick forehead pressed against your own, “m’so fuckin’ proud of you, baby love. So proud.”

Tommy flipped the camera off, setting it down on the nearby table before he left the room to give you and Joel a moment of privacy, and to grab some much deserved refreshments and snacks.

Joel gently eased you into his lap, letting you melt into his arms as you let out a wet sob with your face buried into the juncture of his neck. Your whole body was shaking as you clawed at his back while his strong hands gently rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Let it all out. I got you.” He murmured against your sweat soaked hair as he held you close.

“Did I really…?” You murmured into his neck, loosening your grip around him.

“You did, baby love. You did so well.” He whispered, gently beginning to rock you in his arms to further soothe you as you gradually came down from your high.

“Thank you, daddy. I-I love you so much.” You sniffled, pulling your face back from his neck so you could look into his eyes.

“No need to thank me, baby love. That was all you. I was jus’ there to help get you there. I love you so much, my sweet girl.”

You shook your head, disagreeing with his sentiment but before you could speak, he shushed you with a kiss. How could you really argue with him, then?

Tommy returned with three waters and a candy bar for you, flopping down on the bed with a soft oof.

The three of you sat in a comfortable silence while Joel made sure you were hydrated and even fed you small pieces of the candy bar so that you wouldn’t immediately have a sugar crash.

The two brothers exchanged a murmur of words before Joel untangled your limbs from his own and coaxed you up from the bed. He stayed glued to your side as he guided you to the bathroom and all the way into the shower. He made sure the temperature of the stream was just how you liked it.

He gently washed between your thighs, knowing how sensitive you were still feeling and didn’t want to overdo it. You loved that he was always so adamant on aftercare. It might have actually been his favorite part outside of being connected inside of your body. He loved to provide and take care of you in these especially intimate moments.

“How’s my girl feeling?” He asked with a soft rasp under the warm stream.

“Like I’m floating on a cloud.” You giggled softly, winding your arms around his neck. “My pussy feels a little numb though, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Mmm.” He hummed, wrapping his arms around you with his hands resting gently at your lower back, “that’s to be expected. She took a real poundin’ tonight. You’re gonna sleep like a fuckin’ baby soon.” He added with a warm chuckle.

“Fuck.” You laughed, “don’t I know it. I can probably sleep for days after that.”

“Tommy is outside startin’ a fire for us. Told him to grab one of my joints from the garage. I Figured you’d enjoy decompressing after all that.” He reached one hand up to gently rest it along the side of your head as he pulled you in closer.

“You know me too well, daddy. That sounds absolutely perfect to me.”

He grins boyishly at your response, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. “I’ll meet y’all down there in a bit, okay? Gonna finish up here and strip the sheets.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks when he mentioned the now soiled sheets as your teeth briefly knocked together in the wet kiss. “Sorry about that…I didn’t think it would be that much.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. They’re just sheets, baby love. No need to worry.” He reassured you, deepening the kiss briefly before he slowly pulled away.

“I still can’t believe I was actually able to squirt. It feels so fucking validating that after all these years I now know that I never was the problem. I cannot thank you enough for showing me that they were wrong, Joel. I—I wish I had the words to explain how grateful I am for you.”

“Of course they were wrong, baby love. They never deserved you in the first place. You don’t need to explain how grateful you are, okay? I feel it…here.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it along the left side of his chest, right against his heart.

“You’re going to make me cry again, asshole!” You said playfully, kissing him again just because you could.

He laughed into your lips, bringing his freehand to rest around your face as he kissed you again, and again, and again. “I’m jus’ speaking the truth, baby love.”

“I know, baby. You’re the most honest man I know. Well, outside of Tommy.”

-

You and Joel part ways after showering. He heads back into the studio room while you walk to your shared bedroom to change into something comfy for the rest of the evening. You snatch one of his hoodies, slipping it over your head before grabbing a fresh pair of his boxer briefs and pull them on over your hips and ass.

When you step outside into the backyard, Tommy is already puffing away on the joint he rolled while he uses a spare stick to stoke the fire. He smiled warmly at you, beckoning you over to join him on the outdoor couch.

“There she is. Lil’ miss squirtin’ queen!” He teases as you plop down beside him, giving his shoulder a gentle push.

He passes the joint off to you between his fingers, letting his arm rest behind your head along the back of the couch. “How are ya feeling?”

“Honestly?” You look over at him as you take a long drag, tucking your feet up under your thighs to get comfortable, “I feel like I can conquer the whole fucking world right now.”

“Fuck yeah, you can! Women are soo fucking powerful, babygirl. Y’all are truly some forces to be reckoned with!”

You blow the smoke upwards into the clear night sky, resting your head against his shoulder before passing the joint back to him. “I just feel so…free right now Tommy, y’know? I don’t even know how to put it into words.”

“Girl, you literally soaked the entire fuckin’ mattress. You should feel as free as a bird right now! I know Joel is proud of you, but I am too. I remember the first time I made a girl squirt waaay back in the good ole’ Brazzer’s days. Shit was so intense and the chick I was fuckin’ literally said that she was in love with me! Ain’t that crazy?”

“Aw, Tommy, thank you. I’m really glad that you were there to experience it with me. And shit, no way? Did you tell her that you loved her back?”

“Nah.” He shook his head, clearing his throat as he ashed the joint off to the side, “I uh—I really didn’t know what to say. Felt terrible after the fact because she started to profusely apologize…and I guess I didn’t understand why? I mean, it slipped out in the heat of the moment, man. I don’t think she meant it.”

I really hope she didn’t.

You sat up, focusing your attention on him fully when you could feel his tone shift to somewhere uncertain. “Hey, are you okay?…is there something you want to talk about? I’m here for you, okay?”

He let out a dry laugh shaking his head before he looked over at you finally. “Yeah, there is somethin’ I wanna talk to you about. I jus’ don’t know how to phrase it.”

“Take your time, Tommy. There’s no rush.”

“Okay so, Joel doesn’t know about this yet because I really don’t know how to tell him, but one of my long term onscreen partners is planning on quitting Miller-Co entirely…because of me.” Tommy nervously chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“Tommy, what do you mean someone at Miller-Co wants to quit because of you? What…happened?” Tommy was a good guy in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine him ever making someone feel uncomfortable or god forbid—

“It ain’t bad, okay? I promise I didn’t do anythin’ bad.” He took a deep breath, exhaling before continuing, “so, it started with her starting to make comments about you and Joel and the dynamic of your relationship. She didn’t say nothin’ bad, I promise. She er—was hintin’ that she wanted to be in a relationship with me essentially?”

“Oh.” You said softly, beginning to understand where this conversation was potentially leading into. “I’m assuming you didn’t feel the same way as she did?”

“No.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t feel the same way. I tried to explain to her that I have never felt a romantic connection to anyone ever and that I was sorry.”

“Wait…never?” You were careful with your choice of words, reading between the lines to figure out exactly what he was saying.

“You can’t tell Joel any of this, okay? I—I don’t know how to tell him, babygirl. I know he would never judge me but I’m jus’—afraid.”

You reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers together to show him that he had your full support. “Tommy, it’s okay. Your brother isn’t going to scold you for this.”

“No, you’re right, he won’t. Anyway, I tried to tell her that I never have had a crush on anyone in my life and I have never been in love. She thought I was just making an excuse! Why would I make an excuse like that? Doesn’t she realize that if I could feel the same way for her that I would already?” He said exasperatedly, waving his freehand around to emphasize the point he was trying to make.

“Tommy, are you…aromantic?” You asked suddenly.

A sheepish look washed over his face, his cheeks turning as red as the flames from the fire, “yeah, I am.” He mumbled quietly.

“Oh, hon. It’s okay, that’s nothing for you to feel ashamed for. You know that, right?” You squeezed his hand gently, stroking your thumb along the outside of his hand.

“Fuck, I know it’s nothing for me to feel ashamed about! I know—but, I feel that way regardless. She literally thinks I’m some cold, heartless prick now! We’ve literally been fucking consistently for over a year and I thought we had…y’know, developed a mutual friendship.”

“I understand, Tommy. But you are not some cold heartless prick. There’s nothing wrong with you. She just…doesn’t see it the way that you and I do.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighs, sinking back against the couch cushions as he looks into the flames, “you’re the first person that I’ve ever come out to. I mean, my other queer friends know that I’m bisexual, but no one knows that I’m aromantic as well.”

“I understand how you feel, okay? I really do. I’m bisexual, too. I’ve faced similar ridicule for it ever since I came out. I’ve had people tell me to my face that I’m either straight or gay and that I have to pick between the two? It’s fucking ridiculous. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a queer man and feeling like there’s something wrong with you and the way that you live your life because of it.”

His lips part in shock as the joint dies between his fingers. He turns to face you completely, feeling a newfound sense of connection towards you that immediately springs tears to his eyes. “Wait, you’re queer too? I uh—I had a feeling, but I never want to be that person to assume, you know? When did you come out, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Yeah, hon. I’m queer too. And really? What gave me away?” You stifled a giggle, leaning further into his side. “I came out on my 21st birthday actually. My friends took me to my first gay bar in LA and I guess I just blurted it out after a few too many shots? Everyone was so fucking supportive. It brought me to tears! When did you come out?”

“Mmm.” He thought about it momentarily, tapping his fingers against his chin, “there wasn’t like a specific thing that gave you away, I just had this feeling when we first met that you were a fruity lil’ thing.” He laughed warmly. “I came out shortly after I flew out to LA to join Joel at Brazzers. I ended up dating one of my costars for a hot minute. He was my first boyfriend, but I didn’t really understand the whole concept of romance or how to make him feel like I loved him? Our breakup was pretty fuckin’ ugly. Told all his friends that I was a heartless tool and that was the end of that. Think I realized I was aromantic when I flat out told him that he was my best friend but my heart…didn’t get a boner for him? Poor choice of words, but I’ve never really been a serious guy to begin with.”

“Interesting.” You mused with a grin, “yeah, probably wasn’t the wisest move to tell him that your heart didn’t get a boner for him…but that was the only way that you felt you could explain it. Did you guys ever talk about it or reconnect?”

“Actually, yeah! We did. He texted me the other day actually to see how I was doing and we got into a conversation about it. He said it made a lot of sense and what not. I guess I’m just struggling with people not understanding that I’m still this…lovable guy, y’know? I just have never had any interest in love or being in love. Why’s that so hard for people to accept?”

“That’s great that you guys reconnected! Tommy, that’s wonderful! I think people have a problem with it because they want to place you into this perfect box so that you can blend in with the rest of society. They’re going to think you're weird because there’s this stigma around aromantic people being cold and heartless, when y’all are incredibly lovable people, just not in the romantic way.”

“Dude, tell me about it! Society is always telling us how we gotta act, dress, and live our lives! So fuckin’ fed up with it. You mentioned earlier how you can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be a queer man, and you hit the nail right on the head, babygirl. I’m constantly…having this internal battle with myself. Feelin’ like I don’t even belong in the community, y’know?” He sniffled, wiping his face along the sleeve of his shirt in an attempt to hide his tears.

“Hey, you absolutely do belong in the queer community. And anyone who tries to shun you is a bigoted asshole that should really do some self reflecting in their personal life before they try to tear down another marginalized person who is simply just fucking living their life and hurting no one!” You felt his pain and frustration from his words and all you really wanted to do was wrap him up in a big hug.

Tommy is momentarily distracted from a flicker of movement in the kitchen and flash of black fur jumping up onto the counter to see what Joel is up to. He smiles briefly, remembering the last time he caught his older brother putzing around the kitchen making munchies and singing a fucking tune like the lovesick teddy bear that he truly was.

“He really loves you.” He murmured softly.

“What?” You’re confused by the sudden flip of the conversation till you follow the path of his eyes and see your Joel flipping something inside of the pan before he picks Artemis up from the counter, kisses her head and gently places her on his shoulder.

“My brother. He really loves you.” Tommy reiterated with a cheeky grin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him dancing around the kitchen like that. Whenever he gets really caught up in his feelings and emotions, he immediately starts cooking. The last time he did that was for—”

“Carmen?” You question softly, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” He nods, squeezing your hand gently when he notices your eyes growing glassy under the warm glow of the fire. “And…Sarah.”

“Oh cool! So now I’m gonna cry some more!” You laugh trying to process the sudden surge of emotions you’re feeling. “Tommy, I love that man so fucking much. He’s truly…heaven sent, y’know?”

He smiles knowingly, dropping your hand so he can wrap his arm around you, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, babygirl. And you’re the rite of his movement.”

“You—don’t bring Hozier up in a moment like this! Oh my god!” You laugh, turning your face into his shoulder.

The sliding back door from the kitchen opens moments later and your Joel appears with a whole ass stack of freshly made heart shaped pancakes on a plate, smothered in butter and drizzled perfectly in sticky syrup. Artemis is still proudly perched on his shoulder like a damn parakeet, her tail curved around his neck as he approaches the fire pit.

“Baby love!” He sings songs. “Made y’all somethin’ real special! Hope you’re in the mood for pancakes because—” he frowns when he sees the glassy look in his brother's eyes and your own when you peek over at him. “Why do y’all both look like you’re about to burst into tears? Not when I crafted up the best goddamn pancakes in all of Austin!” He attempts to lighten the mood as he gently sits down alongside you, setting the plate along his lap.

“It’s my fault.” Tommy is quick to speak up. “We got into a deep conversation and I uh—got emotional and then baby love got emotional.”

Joel raises a brow and it appears that even Artemis is listening as she leaps down from his shoulder and trots across the back of the couch to nuzzle against your head.

“What kinda deep conversation did y’all get into?”

“Well, first I just wanna let you know that Natalie is planning on quitting Miller-Co…because of me.” Tommy whispered the last part.

“Oh, for fuck sakes! Tommy, what did you do?” Joel lets out an exasperated sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Baby.” You speak up, “hear him out, okay?” You reach for his hand. “Tommy really needs our support right now.”

He sighs, grasping your hand in his palm with his fingers interlocked through yours. “I’m listenin.’”

“I promise I didn’t do anything wrong, Joel. I swear. Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a long time now, I jus’—I’ve been nervous to-do so.” Tommy starts, looking over at his brother as he gathers his thoughts, “so uh, I’m—aromantic and bisexual.”

Joel doesn’t even look the least bit surprised at his brother coming out. His eyes soften as he responds with a small nod, “that ain’t nothin’ you gotta worry about, little brother. I’ve been havin’ a feelin’ for a while now. S’okay. I love you jus’ the same.”

Tommy breaks immediately, his vision blurring with tears when his brother reaches across to gently squeeze his shoulder. “I—I had no idea that you already…knew.” He sniffles.

“Course not, Tommy. M’jus’ a real observant person, y’know? So, is this what’s gotten you all in a fuss? Can I safely assume that Natalie wants to quit because she found out that you’re queer and she has feelings for you that you can’t return?” Joel read between the lines at ease, feeling a surge of anger in his veins that one of their own colleagues made his kin feel a certain way. Especially when the values instilled at Miller-Co were accepting of everyone. No matter their race, gender, sexuality, etc.

“God dammit, you’re smart.” Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, basically that’s why she wants to quit. Fuckin’ ridiculous if I’m being honest.”

“Well, I don't like someone like her working for us anyway. If she wants to quit, then by all means, let her quit. Good riddance, honestly. Damn shame too. Miller-Co doesn’t have a place for small-minded people like her.” Joel is quick to defend and validate his brother's feelings without missing a beat.

“Okay, okay, you don’t needa go off on her or anythin’ , okay? I’ll handle it tomorrow or somethin.’” Tommy reassured him.

“Alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Joel nods, focusing his attention back on you. “So, Tommy comin’ out to ya is what’s gotten you all teary eyed again, baby love?”

You nod, looking over at him with a small smile. “Yeah, and…Joel?”

“Hm?”

“I’m bisexual…too.”

“Guess that makes me the token straight of the family, huh?” He lightly jokes before squeezing your hand, “well, if that’s the case, I love you all the same too, baby love.”

-

The following morning Joel wakes up long before you do. He heads into town, visiting a local business that was queer owned and known for their assortment of pride flag stickers and other merch. He purchases an aromantic pride bumper sticker and a bisexual bumper sticker. He doesn’t wait to get home to put them on the bumper of his truck. He carefully peels the stickers off and places them in a spare spot on the already heavily decorated bumper. He takes a step back, arms crossed over his chest with the biggest smile on his face.

Austin’s token straight, and biggest ally has done it once again, folks!

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[javiscigarette]

Sweet Spot

Summary: You get a promotion at work, so Joel dresses you up and takes you out for dinner but you're hungry for somethin else

Warnings: no use of y/n, smut with the tiniest sliver of plot, established relationship, fingering, fingering in public, rough sex, oral (m receiving), spitting, a bit of choking, daddy kink ofc, degradation,

w/c: 9k (omfg) of pwp :)

a/n: I don't loveee this one but I've been sitting on it for three months and I can't get the image of freshly showered Joel out of my mind so. Here we are. Also the daddy kink as taken over, I cant stop and I'm NOT sorry!! Pls let me know what you guys think, your comments and love are the only things keeping me going. (also also, if you're someone who likes making edits for pics PLS message me I am desperate and really bad at making them)

my masterlist

Joel is in the driveway leaning over the hood of his truck when you pull up to the house, fiddling with whatever new project he decided to start this afternoon. You’re able to catch a quick glimpse of his shirt riding up a bit, exposing an inch or two of the skin of his back before he hears your car and turns around. 

You pull into the driveway next to his truck and hop out as soon as you’re in park. The warm sound of Joel’s laughter fills the air as you squeal excitedly, running around the front of your car and into his outstretched arms. He pulls you close into him, his black t-shirt hot from the sun has he squeezes you tightly. He smells like motor oil and sweat and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you going just a little bit. 

“M’guessing it went well?” Joel asks when he pulls back, chuckling as he watches you bounce up and down on your toes. 

You’d been working on this presentation for your job for two weeks now, spending hours smoothing out every minor detail, giving mock presentations to Joel and staying up late worrying about how it’ll go. 

“Everyone loved it, Joel!” you nearly shout. 

“And guess what?” you ask, not giving him any time to respond. “I got promoted!” you squeal. 

Joel’s chest is about to burst with pride. 

“M’so proud of you, angel. You worked so hard for it.” Joel tells you, his voice soft and sincere as he holds you against him. 

“We need to get in the shower,” Joel says, turning away from you to lower the hood of his truck. “I’m taking you out.” 

—-----------

You sit on the edge of the bed with your towel wrapped around your waist, waiting patiently for Joel to return from the closet. It's no surprise when he returns with a bundle of black fabric – in his hands is his favorite thing you own: the lacey black 3 piece set and the thigh high stockings to match. 

He has a wide smile, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looks at you. With a soft smile in return, you drop your towel allowing it to pool on the bed around you as you expose yourself completely for him. 

“You’re so pretty, baby” 

Your ears perk up at the slight strain in his voice. You look down and grin, the outline of his half-hard cock clear as day under his black boxer briefs. 

“We’re never gonna make it to the restaurant” you laugh and move to stand up for him, despite wishing he would just give in right now and fuck you until you couldn’t see straight. 

But he just shakes his head with a chuckle as he takes your place, sitting on the edge of the bed with you standing between his knees.

“Yes we will, angel. And we’ll play when we get back, give you whatever you want…if you’re good” Joel promises, easily reading your mind. 

You huff dramatically as he picks out the garter belt from the pile and holds it up to you. He doesn’t say anything, just braces himself when you reach out and grip his shoulder for balance as you lift up one leg.   

He bends over, holding the belt open so that you can step with one foot and then the other. He then straightens back up, pulling the fabric up your legs as he does so. Heat pools in your tummy when you look down at him and see his brows knitted together in serious concentration as he dresses you. 

He does this all the time. The routine is committed to muscle memory at this point. 

It’s not that he cares about what you wear, he couldn’t give two shits as long as you’re comfortable. But the power in deciding what you’re going to wear underneath, or if you’re going to wear anything at all, gives him a rush. And he’s positively obsessed with being the one to dress you up in it, says it’s like “wrapping his own present that he gets to rip open later”. 

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin under his warm fingers. You feel so beautiful in these moments, with Joel so focused on your body inches away from his face, his eyes wide and his cock hard just at the mere sight of your exposed skin and the excitement of seeing you in whatever he picks out for you. 

He settles the belt around your waist, making sure all the edges are untucked and lying flat before reaching for the thong and repeating the process. 

“So fucking, pretty” Joel mumbles as he smooths the lace over your hips, adjusting the elastic so it stretches perfectly over your skin. Then he’s spinning you around so until you’re facing the other away, your ass on full display for him. He can’t help but press a kiss to your cheek before straightening out the back of your thong, his mouth watering at the sight of the thin strip of fabric disappearing in between your cheeks. 

Mindlessly, he reaches around to your front and slips his hand between your thighs. The tips of his fingers just barely brush over the lace of your thong but he can feel the heat of your swollen pussy underneath. 

 He sighs and wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you back into him until his cheek is squished against your lower back, his scruff scratching lightly against your sensitive skin. His fingers keep dancing over you with minimal pressure behind his touch. 

“Joel,” you whimper quietly, already getting all worked up from his minimal teasing. He just shushes you and presses another warm kiss to the back of your hip. After a couple more seconds of light brushes he slips his middle finger into the side of your thong to find your entrance and immediately sinks it inside of you. 

You yelp in surprise, and reflexively try to take a step away from him, but he’s got you tight in his grip. 

“Just wanna feel you, baby” Joel mumbles against your skin, his beard tickling you and making the muscles in your lower back twitch. He closes his eyes, fully focused on feeling your wet walls flutter gently around his finger. His brow furrows and his mouth drops open slightly when he hears your quiet whimper, the sweet sound going straight to his already painfully hard cock. 

He doesn’t even mean to tease you most of the time. Sure, he loves seeing you get all worked up just from a few gentle touches and he adores watching you fall apart underneath him, collapsing into a begging mess for him before he’s even really done anything. But most of the time it’s a genuine need to touch you. It’s like he needs to have physical contact with your body at all times, serving as a reminder that you’re real, you’re here and you’re all his. 

He slides his finger out a few seconds later, much to your disappointment. But before you can complain, he spins you back around and stares you in the eyes as brings his finger up in front of you and gently pushes it between your parted lips. You allow him without any hesitation, and he watches you in awe as you lick and suck his finger clean of your arousal, his jaw slack and eyes dark and wide.

“Ain’t it sweet, angel?” Joel asks, breathless with amusement and lust. 

You nod and he grins before slowly sliding his finger out of your mouth. 

“S’a good girl, baby” Joel comments as he reaches for one of the thigh high stockings. His praise wraps around your heart and melts into your veins, just his simple words making you feel warm and floaty. 

You watch him as he bunches up the stocking at the foot, holding it open for you to step in before pulling it up your leg. He smooths out the lace edge and makes sure that it’s even all around your thigh before he fastens the clips of the garter belt to the top of the stocking. He does the same thing with your other leg before turning you around again and fastening the clips in the back. 

Joel turns you around so you’re facing him again and then presses a kiss to the top of each thigh. 

“Fuckin’ perfect” he sighs as he leans back and admires his work. 

You blush under his gaze, his eyes burning holes in your skin as he stares hungrily. He stands up after a few moments and reaches for the matching bralette, helping you slip it over your shoulders before fastening the clasps in the back. 

He looks down at you and tries to resist the urge to touch you again but he can’t keep himself away. And the small moan you let out when he brings both his thumbs up to brush over your nipples through the lace has him nearly giving in right then and there. 

You look up at him with pleading eyes, silently telling him that you’re not going to be good for much longer if he keeps this up. He stares back at you and thinks about pushing you, letting you act like a bad girl before fucking some sense into you. But he decides he wants to show you off first. 

“Go get dressed, baby” Joel instructs gently with a smile. “Pick something nice for me.” 

— 

You decide on a black dress, one that clings to all the right places while just barely concealing the tops of your stockings and the clips holding them in place. You finish getting ready in the bathroom, and when you walk back out to the bedroom, you nearly collapse at the sight in front of you.

Joel is standing in front of the floor-length mirror with his back turned to you. He’s wearing a simple outfit: black trousers with a black button down to match. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone and your mouth waters at the exposed skin of his thick neck and broad chest. 

It’s almost unfair how good he looks with his hair pushed back just slightly, the damp locks just starting to curl into their usual pattern as they air dry. Your heart races at the thought of tangling your fingers into the ones laying at the nape of his neck. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and he smirks as he finishes rolling up his sleeves until they rest perfectly at his elbows.

He then reaches for his rings – the ones you got for him as part of his birthday present earlier this year, the small gold bands that you insisted would look good on him – and picks them up from where they’re sitting on the dresser. And clearly you were right because when he turns to face you, you almost moan out loud watching him slide a ring down one pinky and then the other. He crosses the room towards you, your knees trembling as he shamelessly rakes his eyes up and down your figure. 

“Stunning” Joel whispers, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. His hands easily find your hips and he gently turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, your back pressed into his warm, broad chest. 

“I love you, angel. And I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, you know that right?” Joel asks as he wraps both arms around your waist and hooks his chin over your shoulder. 

“Yes, Joel, I know. I love you too” you giggle, easily flustered at his praise. 

“M’serious, baby. So proud of how hard you work, how dedicated you are” Joel starts, moving to nuzzle his face against your neck. “How smart you are” Joel continues, his lips brushing delicately over your sensitive skin. You melt so easily underneath him, relaxing into the soft glide of his warm palms up and down your sides as he whispers sweet words of praise into your neck. 

“And I bet you looked fuckin’ sexy doing it too” Joel growls,  his hands tightening on your hip. You let out a mixture between a sniffle and laugh and then feel Joel’s lips curve into a smile against your neck. He presses a kiss behind your ear and straightens back up and turns you around to face him. 

Joel’s heart turns to liquid when you look up at him through watery lashes with a wide smile. He smiles down at you and brings a hand up to wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb before placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. 

“Now let’s get goin’. I think my good girl deserves to be spoiled.” 

— 

Joel was back to teasing you as soon got in his truck and continued to do so the whole ride to the restaurant. He kept one hand on the wheel, using the other to slide up and down your thigh, occasionally fiddling with your garter straps or just brushing the lace edge of your thong with his fingertips.

And now you’re seated at a table in a dark corner of the dimly lit restaurant, and you can barely think straight. Joel had spoiled you with the most expensive champagne, far more appetizers than two people could possibly eat and a main course of delectable pasta on a plate bigger than your head. And of course, he looked devilishly handsome the whole night, and he knows it too, smirking and looking at you like he’s about to pounce across the table and devour you. Now you sat there with a full belly, but you were still hungry for revenge. 

“What’d your coworkers say? When they saw you got promoted” Joel asks as he pours you both another glass of champagne. You furrow your brows at his question, so far away from even thinking of that whole situation at work and so turned on that you almost completely forgot about the reason why you’re even here right now. 

You look up at his face, forcing yourself to peel your eyes away from the muscles bulging underneath his shirt as he sets the bottle back down. He has that knowing look in his eyes when you find them, his signature smirk thinly veiled with a sweet smile. 

Without even trying to answer his question, you slide down slightly in your chair. He watches curiously as you shift in your seat for a few seconds. Just as he opens his mouth to ask you what you’re doing, your warm foot presses against the crotch of his pants. 

He freezes in place. His hand visibly tightens around the stem of his champagne glass, and you can see the muscles in his jaw twitching. You fully expect him to push your foot back to the ground, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just leans back in his chair and spreads his knees giving you more room to work. He tilts his head and stares at you, a smirk creeping up on his lips when he sees the devious twinkle in your eye. 

You look back with a smirk to match and experimentally wiggle your toes against him. Your heart pounds in your chest when he narrows his eyes at you and slowly moves his hand beneath the tablecloth. You stop wiggling your toes when he wraps his hand around your ankle, the heat radiating from his palm to your skin like a hot iron through the thin material of your stocking. 

“Think about it, angel” he warns quietly. There’s a brief pause, where you pretend to weigh the risks and rewards, trying to decide whether to be good or bad. But your mind was made up before you even left the house. 

After a few seconds, you smirk back at him and press the ball of your stockinged foot against him. Joel chuckles and leans back in his chair again, watching you amusedly. He doesn't move, barely even flinches when you press a little harder against him and it’s infuriating. It's completely unfair how he’s able to literally bring you to your knees with a single touch but remains completely composed when you touch him. 

But what you don’t see is his heart hammering in his chest or the sweat starting to prickle the back of his neck. Truthfully, he had been just as turned on as you this whole time. Actually, he could feel the heat stirring the second that you told him about your promotion. 

He was barely able to hold back when he was picking out your lingerie for the night. He had to take a break in the closet, leaning against the dresser as he took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm himself down.

And when he started dressing you, he could’ve come right there in his boxers at the sight of the garter belt sliding up your waist.  Then the ride over here, the smell of your perfume mixing perfectly with his cologne in the cab of his truck, his head going fuzzy at the scent that seeped into the fabric of his seats, a reminder of you that’ll stick around for a few days. 

And now with your foot covered in the delicate mesh of the stockings that he dressed you in pressing deliciously against his aching cock, he’s rapidly losing his self-control. 

But Joel is just as stubborn as you, not willing to give in so easily. 

So, he bites his tongue and suppresses any noise and tenses his muscles trying not to flinch. Because seeing you get frustrated like this was just turning him on even more. He’s about to say something but you see the waiter coming up behind him and immediately move your foot back to the floor and sit up straight. 

Joel exhales heavily, releasing all the tension he was holding. He doesn’t even hear what the waiter says, too busy admiring the flustered look on your face and the slight shake in your voice as you talk to the waiter. 

The waiter leaves after a few moments and you face Joel again with a mix between a pout and a glare. 

“What was the plan there?”  Joel asks, cocking his head to the side in mock curiosity while he secretly prays that his voice doesn’t crack. 

You don’t respond, just keep glaring at him as you shove your foot back into the shoe. 

“You were being so good, what happened?” Joel presses, each word drenched with sarcastic concern. He watches delightedly as you huff and cross your arms over your chest. 

“S’okay, baby” Joel says, his voice dropping half an octave. Your stomach flutters with excitement.

 This is exactly how Joel starts off every proposition and you can’t wait to see what he wants you to do next. 

Joel pauses and looks at you with an evil glint in his eye. You should’ve seen this coming from miles away. But it still slaps you in the face when he says it. 

“I want you to slip a hand under that pretty dress and touch yourself. Right here, right now.” Joel says so quietly that you barely hear him. 

Your breath gets caught around the lump in your throat and Joel just smiles at you. 

“Go on, baby. Since you’re so needy and set on bein’ bad” Joel encourages after a few seconds of you not moving. “Or we can get the paddle out when we get home?”

The threat of paddle was more than enough.

You glance around to see if anyone can see you like this. No one was sitting near you though, the booth you’re in provides a decent amount of privacy and all direct lines of sight to you are clear. With a gulp and shift down in your seat again and your pussy throbs, pathetically turned on as you slide your hand under the tablecloth and up your dress. You move slowly to slide two fingers into the side of your thong, just like Joel did an hour earlier. 

It’s no shock how wet you are, the lace of your thong absolutely soaked, your whole cunt swollen and slick with it. Your eyes flit up to Joel’s and he gives you a small, encouraging nod.  

“You’re soaked for me, aren’t you angel?” Joel asks. His voice is so calm and steady that you almost stop and get up to walk over to his side of the table and strangle him. You’re so turned on you can barely breathe, and you’re pissed at him for it. It’s maddening how he has you so needy and desperate for him that you’re willing to touch yourself in publicwhile he just watches.

You give into your temptations easily, working quickly to soothe the aching need that spreads across every single inch of your skin. You glance around again, making sure no one is looking before you ease your middle finger into your dripping entrance, your eyelashes fluttering a bit as you curl your fingers and press up against your g-spot. 

Joel’s head is swimming as he watches you finger yourself right there in front of him in this restaurant. Any moment someone will pinch him and tell him to wake the fuck up because there’s no way in hell that this actually happening.

His head is foggy, turned on just as much as you are. His cock strains in his pants, tingles rushing down his spine as he stares at you, biting your lip, your eyes barely open and your eyebrows drawing together as you try to hold back soft moans. 

He wants more.

“Faster.” 

You snap your eyes open and look at him as if to ask if you heard him correctly. The look he gives you tells you that you absolutely did. 

Well, you’re not gonna say no to that. 

Your teeth sink deeper into your lip as you heed his orders and start pumping your finger faster. You’re painfully aware of any sounds you make, whether it’s a moan clawing its way up your throat or the slick sounds of your finger gliding through your folds, you try your best to keep it down. 

Joel of course isn’t any help. 

“Don’t be too loud, baby.” Joel whispers before taking a large swig of champagne. “Wouldn’t want ya to embarrass yourself” 

You shoot daggers at him over the dinner table, but you don’t slow down. And now he’s stumped because does he punish you for being bad, playing footsies under the table with him and fingering yourself in public or should he praise you for being a good girl and listening to him. 

“Baby,” Joel starts, his voice tight in his throat. “Show me, I want to see.” 

To his surprise, you obey easily enough and slide your finger out from under your dress. You bring your hand out from under the tablecloth to present to Joel. His adam’s apple bob in his throat, swallowing thickly at the sight of your middle finger absolutely coated in your wetness, some of it glistening on your palm as well.  He nearly loses it when you spread your fingers apart, thin strings of your arousal stretching between your digits. 

“Fuck” Joel hisses. There’s a tingle of delight in your stomach as you watch him shift in his chair, finally starting to visibly crack. 

He doesn’t say anything else, just reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket to grab his wallet. He hastily pulls out more than enough cash and nearly slams it on the table before standing up. 

“C’mon” Joel commands firmly, extending his hand out to you. You blink at him, not moving a muscle otherwise. You don’t know why, something innate inside you when you’re around him, but even when you're inches away from an orgasm you still find room to be bratty. 

“And what if I wanted dessert?” 

Joel’s jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth together, the tendons in his neck pressing against his skin and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the smirk forming on your face

“Angel,” Joel huffs. “Get up right now and I’ll give you anything you want.” 

That’s all it takes. Joel shakes his head when you immediately grab his hand and pull yourself to stand up. 

“Such a fuckin’ brat” Joel mumbles as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side. He practically drags you out of the restaurant, his grip tight on your waist and your heels clicking on the asphalt as you trot next to him to keep up with his long strides as he speeds back to the truck. 

Ever the gentleman, he opens the passenger door for you, keeping his eyes glued to your body as you climb inside. With you safely inside, he slams the door shut, the sound of your heavy breathing fills the otherwise silent cab of the truck as you watch him walk over to the driver’s side. 

You wait a few moments to see if he’ll say anything, but he just stares straight ahead, the muscles in his jaw flexing subtly like he’s chewing over what he’s going to say next as he shoves the key into the ignition. 

He backs out of the parking spot and leaves the parking lot without saying a single word. Meanwhile, you’re a mess sitting next to him, 

You manage to keep your mouth shut for one whole minute. 

“I was just following your instructions” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest with an exaggerated pout. His jaw shifts to the side but he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even look at you. 

You sigh dramatically and glance sideways at him to see if he’s looking. But he keeps staring straight ahead. There’s a small part of you that realizes that this is probably all part of his grand plan to drive you up the wall, work you up until you can’t take it anymore. But there’s a much larger part of you that desperately wants his attention. 

“And isn’t this my treat anyway? Shouldn’t I be getting what I want?” you press, dipping into dangerous territory just to try and get a reaction out of him. 

Still nothing. 

The thought of slipping your hand under your dress again crosses your mind, but his earlier threat of the paddle quickly extinguishes it. 

All you can do is sit there with a pout etched into your face and ride the rest of the home in silence. 

You’re about to explode when he pulls into the driveway. He slides out of his seat and strides over to your side and opens the door. The fire in his eyes burns fiercely as you take your sweet time climbing out. He slams the door shut behind you as soon as you’re out and turns on his heel and quickly makes his way to the door. You groan and actually stamp your foot in frustration. It’s just not fair. 

You stomp towards the door, arms still crossed over your chest. 

“You said you’d give me anything I want” you call after him, recalling his words from earlier as you make your way inside. 

You barely make it through the door before he’s pushing you against it, using his whole body to keep you pinned in place. Your breath catches in your throat and your knees weaken instantly, all of your resolve immediately crumbling around your feet. 

He has one hand on your waist while he braces himself with the other one on the wall next to your head. His face is inches from yours and you can smell the sweet champagne on his breath and the cologne on his skin. His eyes flit from yours to your lips, his pupils blown so wide that there’s just a sliver of brown around them 

“I said if you were good” he hisses, his voice dangerously low. “What you pulled back there? That was bad, baby. Real bad.”

“You’re the one who told me to finger my-” 

Joel’s hand flies from your waist to your throat, his broad palm pressing against your windpipe while he squeezes either side of your neck with his thumb and fingers. Heat surges down your spine and settles in your lower abdomen, your aching sex throbbing pathetically in response. 

“Don’t you try to fuckin’ spin this on me, sweetheart” Joel snarls. 

Maybe he meant to strike fear in you, maybe try to teach you a lesson. But it’s exactly what you want. Joel knows it too – you can tell by the slight smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips in response to your small, breathless gasp. 

“Was just trying to be nice to you” he starts, his voice so low at the point you doubt you’d be able to hear him from any further away. “Try to take you out to a nice restaurant to celebrate and that’s how you repay me? Playin’ with me like that under the table and then actin’ like a spoiled brat all the way home?” 

You both know he’s playing up his part. These were all minor infractions at best. Both of you knew that. You had been in this position for much, much worse behavior. But Joel isn’t dumb, and he’s well aware of what you want - to be tossed around a little, roughened up and broken down until you’re a squirming mess.  And who is he to deny you of that?

You chew on your lip before muttering a small “M’sorry daddy” 

Joel’s eyes narrow even more, the hand on your throat tightening slightly as your carefully chosen words have the exact intended effects on him.

“No, you ain’t” Joel growls. “But you will be. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

He drops the hand from your throat and takes a step back. You exhale the breath you were holding, and you stare at him as his hands fall to his belt. Just the thought of having him in your mouth has you nearly drooling. 

But you’re not done yet.

“No” you say plainly, crossing your arms over your chest once again. 

Joel’s hands freeze on his belt, his eyes burning holes into you as you stare right back, not moving an inch from where you’re standing. 

He raises one eyebrow slightly as if to say I hope I didn’t hear what I just heard but you remain silent and motionless. After a few long moments of complete silence, Joel chuckles softly, his hands falling to his sides in defeat. He gives you one more look and then shakes his head before turning around and heading towards the bedroom.

You’re about to call after him, ask him where he’s going, but his earlier threat of the paddle floats through your mind once again. That has you panicking nearly instantly. 

You watch in disbelief as he disappears up the stairs. Your legs feel as though they’re stuck in wet concrete, and it takes a few seconds to coordinate your mind and body to get you to move. You scamper after him, a cold sweat tingling on the back of your neck as you head towards the bedroom. 

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed when you walk in, in the middle of untying his shoes. You stand in front of him, arms behind your back and patiently wait for him to toe his shoes off. 

He kicks them to the side then looks up at you with a heavy sigh, like your behavior is causing him physical pain. You offer him a meek smile as he rests his palms behind him on the mattress and leans back, his eyes raking over your body as he does so. 

He doesn’t say anything, which you take as an invitation. 

You move to climb into his lap. He doesn’t reprimand you, but he doesn’t move to hold you either. 

You sit on your knees, your legs straddling his. You can feel him through his pants and your soaked panties, still hard as diamonds. That’s a good sign at least. 

“M’sorry, daddy” you say again, much more sincerely this time. You bring your hands up to fiddle with the collar of his shirt, avoiding his eyes as you wait for a response that never comes. 

“Just wanted to play” you confess quietly. Joel still doesn't say anything, but his eyes follow your hands as you start toying with the buttons of his shirt. 

“And you just looked so handsome tonight” you continue, undoing the first button. You wait again. Still no response. 

“Thank you for taking me out” you say as you undo the next button. 

“And for dressing me up” 

Another button. 

“Making me feel so beautiful” 

And another. 

You undo the last button then push away both sides so that his whole torso is on display for you. You stare for a second, fixated on the steady rise and fall of his broad chest, the soft curve of his tummy, and the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants.

He remains silent still as you place your hands on his abdomen and slowly slide them up to his shoulders before crossing your arms behind his neck. Finally, you drag your eyes up and look at him through your lashes. His gaze is soft and much warmer than you were expecting. 

“Promise I’ll be good.” you say, barely above a whisper. 

He gives you a half smile and brings a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. 

“You want daddy to make you feel good? Want me to fuck you til you fuckin’ stupid” Joel asks, tilting his head to the side acting like he doesn’t know the answer. 

You nod vigorously and poke your tongue out to lick at the tip of his thumb, just for good measure. 

“Thought so” Joel says as he pushes his thumb past your lips. You suck on it eagerly and let him press down on your tongue, your clit twitching with desperate need. 

“Then why don’t you show daddy how sorry you are, and I might reconsider gettin’ the paddle out.” 

You immediately pull off his thumb and sink to your knees without any further instruction. You reach for his belt, deft fingers unbuckling the belt that you’ve undone so many times before, his button and zipper following soon after. 

He stops you there and moves to stand up. You sit back on your knees with your hands on your thighs and watch as he quickly shucks off his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him. You chew on your lip as he pulls down the waistband of his pants and boxers, his cock bobbing heavily as he steps out of them. 

Your completely transfixed by it, the veins running along the length, the redden head and the drops of precum leaking from the slit. You don’t even realize you’re staring until he slides a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Turn around” he instructs simply. 

You have no reason to disobey at this point, so you do as you’re told, turning in the small space between Joel’s leg and the edge of the bed. He takes another step forward, backing you up into the side of the mattress. 

“S’this what you wanted, baby?” he coos as he wraps a hand around himself. 

“Yes, daddy. Always want it” you respond. You look up at him through your lashes, batting them for added effect. 

“Yeah, I know you do” he rasps, taking another small step forward. He rests the head of his cock on your bottom lip, smearing precum. You dart your tongue out to lick it up. 

He drags the tip of his cock from your lips to your cheek, smearing more precum on your skin and giving you a few light smacks for good measure. 

It’s degrading, and should be humiliating, but it just makes your head spin, the fire in your stomach rapidly growing as you open your mouth for him, giving him silent permission to use you however he pleases. 

He groans softly as he pushes past your lips, sinking into the wet heat of your mouth. He’s only halfway in when you gag around him, tears already pricking at your waterline. 

“Oh, you know you can take it deeper than that, angel” 

He places both hands on the back of your head, gently forcing you down the rest of his length. You let him, focusing on breathing through your nose as rolls his hips forward until he’s buried in your throat. You gag again once he’s all the way in, but he keeps your head in place, holding you there for a few more seconds, groaning as your throat convulses around him 

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Got that throat fuckin’ trained” 

He pulls out, allows you to take a gulp of air before he’s shoving back in again. His hips quickly settle into a steady rhythm, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every thrust. You brace yourself with one hand on his thigh and you can feel the muscles working under your palm. 

“Spoiled little brat just needed daddy to fuck her throat, huh?” 

You hum around him in response, reveling in the feeling of his cock twitching against your tongue. He continues to fuck your face, completely unconcerned with the tears rolling down your cheeks and the spit leaking out of the corners of your mouth. He moves one hand from your head to your throat, his palm splaying across your windpipe. He tightens his grip just slightly, pushing against the bulge of his head buried deep in your throat. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, thrusting in all the way and staying there. “Love feelin’ myself in that tight little throat” 

The fire in your tummy burns with blinding heat at his praise. A dull ache starts to settle in your jaw as salvia slides down your chin and neck, more hot tears spilling over your lash line as you squeeze your eyes shut and try your best not to gag. 

“Take it so well” Joel pants as he starts to rock his hips again. “Fuckin’ made to take my cock.” 

The lack of air already has you feeling dizzy, and his words are only adding to the feeling. He’s not wrong –with him fucking your face like this, a strong hand on your head and the other wrapped firmly around your throat, it feels like your sole purpose in life is to please him, to be a toy he can use to make himself feel good. And you fucking love it. 

After one more strong thrust, he pulls out of your mouth completely. His cock is dripping with your saliva, a string of it connecting his head to your swollen lips. 

“Look at you” Joel coos. You look up at him through wet lashes. 

“Bein’ so good for me.” 

He moves his hand on your throat to your cheek, cupping your jaw as he wipes some of the tears away with his thumb. He then rubs it over your wet, glossy lips, and you already know what he wants next.

“Open” he commands gently, his thumb tugging down on your bottom lip. 

You obey immediately, your jaw hanging open and a smile pulls at the corner of your lips. You watch hungrily as he gathers the salvia in his mouth before he bends down slightly. He lets it drip into your awaiting mouth and you hum happily as the liquid hits your tongue. 

“Good fuckin’ girl” he rasps before spitting again, this time with more force. A small moan finds its way out of you as you keep your mouth open and let the warm liquid pool on your tongue until he gives you further directions. 

“Swallow it.” 

You do so happily, and he hums in approval before standing up straight again. He grabs his cock and guides it to your lips again. He allows you to take one deep breath before he’s pushing in again, his fingers now digging into your jaw, his other hand back on your head as he guides your movements. 

“Such a slut for it, aren’t ya?”

You nod the best you can with his cock filling your mouth. He holds you steady, giving a few well-measured thrusts down your throat before pulling out again, leaving you coughing mess below him. He looks at you lovingly as you gasp and try to catch your breath, your lips cherry red, matching the color of the rims of your eyes.

“Doin’ okay?” he asks, voice soft and gentle. 

You nod again and give him a dazed smile before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Good girl. Now stand up.” 

Joel reaches out to hold your arm as you pull yourself to stand on weak legs, your knees tight and sore from kneeling on the floor. But you couldn’t care less.

He uses both hands to hike up the hem of your dress, making quick work of lifting it up and over your head. He quickly discards it to a forgotten corner of the room before planting a wide, calloused palm square on your chest and pushing you down onto the mattress.

You land on flat on your back against plush mattress, your legs dangling off the edge. Joel reaches for a pillow, and you lift your head so he can slide it underneath. Your skin buzzes as you watch him take his place, standing at the edge of the bed between your legs. 

“So fucking pretty” Joel mutters as he smooths a hand down your front from the hollow of your throat to the tops of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He plucks at one of the black satin garter straps, letting it snap against your skin. It barely stings and you giggle and wiggle your hips in pure excitement. 

Your hungry eyes rake down his body before settling on his cock again, shiny from your spit as it bobs heavily between his legs. 

He starts working on undoing the clasps of the straps without preamble, letting you know that he’s not in the mood to take things slow, which you appreciate greatly. 

He has all four straps undone in a matter of seconds and tugs at the belt. You lift your hips, helping him to slide it down your hips and legs. The speed and carelessness he exerts as he pulls the fabric off your body is a stark contrast from how concentrated he was while dressing you in it just a few hours ago. 

With the belt out the way, he cups your pussy in his hand. The heel of his hand presses against your swollen clit through the delicate fabric of your thong, his fingers pressing firmly against the damp spot that’s been there since before you left the house. 

You whine, a high-pitched sound from the back of your throat. Joels eyes flick up from between your legs to your face, a wicked smirk curling on his lips. 

“Such a needy little pussy” he says darkly, pressing his hand further against your core. You roll your hips up and grind against his hand, chasing after the friction you’ve been craving all evening. 

But he immediately removes his hand and gives you firm smack instead. You yelp at the sensation, your clit tingling and pulsing. 

“Wanna hear you beg for it.” 

He drags his fingertips along on the edges of your panties, his touch featherlight and torturously slow. There’s a small part of you that wants to say no, that wants to argue with him, push him further, just to see what would happen. 

But you’re 10 levels above desperate for his touch. 

“Please daddy, w-want it so bad” 

Joel clicks his tongue and lands another light slap to your clothed pussy. You bite back another yelp and will your hips to stay still. 

“You know you can do better than that. Try again, tell daddy exactly what you want” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, well beyond frustrated at this point. You suck in a deep, steadying breath and exhale is slowly before opening your eyes again to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, and his jaw is tight as he looks back at you. 

“Want you to fuck me, want you so deep inside me that I can barely breathe, want you to be rough with me, make sure I can feel it for days, please daddy please. I promise I’ll be good, just – please I ne-” 

You cut yourself off when Joel digs his fingers into the lace of your thong, the sound of tearing fabric hitting your ears as he rips it off of you. 

“Joel!” you shout, sitting up on your elbows to look at him. 

He doesn't say anything, just grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. But you’re still stuck on the fact that he just casually ripped off your panties like that. 

“Thought those were your favorite pair” you mumble, looking at the discarded fabric sitting on the bed. 

“Shut up” Joel grunts as he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, steadying himself and lining up at your dripping entrance. “I’ll buy you more.” 

You’re about to say something back, but he slides in before as soon as you open your mouth, effectively taking your breath away. 

The stretch of his thick cock inside you as he sinks in all the way in one smooth motion is enough to wipe your brain clean. 

He stays still once he’s inside, his tip kissing your cervix. He curses under his breath as your walls spasm around him, already milking him for all that he’s worth.

“Always so fuckin’ tight for me. Perfect little pussy.”  

You let him maneuver you into position, one of his hands cupping the back of your knee, lifting your leg up to rest on his shoulder, both of you sighing as the angle pushes him just a bit deeper. He brings your other leg up but keeps it pinned to the bed with a strong hand on your thigh, leaving you spread open just for him. 

Without warning, he draws his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out before slamming back in. 

You cry out, your hands scrambling for purchase on the duvet. You’ve taken him countless times before. But he’s big. And no matter how wet or turned on you are, without opening you up first on his fingers, your walls are aching and tingling as he forces your body to mold to his. 

And it’s exactly what you asked for. 

He grinds his pelvis against your clit, his cock bumping into a spot that’s impossibly deep inside of you. You jolt at the sensation and reflexively try to scoot up the bed, your already overwhelmed body trying to get away from the intense feeling. 

“Oh, don’t run from it now” Joel growls, grabbing one of your hips and forcing you back down on his cock. “Begged for it all night, so I’m gonna fuckin’ give it to ya” 

“S-so much daddy, you’re so– oh fuck. You’re so fucking big” You whimper pathetically, your hands gripping the duvet so tight that your nails are digging into your palms even through the barrier of the fabric. 

“I know it’s a lot, angel. But you can take it,” Joel pants. “Can’t you?” 

You nod lazily against the pillow as he pulls out again.

“What’s your safeword” he asks, the head of his cock resting just a few inches inside of you, providing you with enough relief to answer. 

“Red” you whine. 

“Good girl. Do you wanna use it?” 

You immediately shake your head

“No.” 

“That’s my girl” Joel growls before slamming back in again, knocking the air straight out of your lungs. Your back arches with the feeling as he quickly builds up his pace. 

He fucks into you like it’s his last day on earth, fast and rough, just like you begged for. Just like he knows you need. Your whole body feels electrified while moans tumble freely past your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head. 

With your eyes closed, you don’t see it, but you do feel Joel’s lips pressing against your ankle that’s resting on his shoulder, lips warm and wet through the sheer fabric of the stocking that he never took off. 

“Little pussy is takin’ me so well, angel” Joel mumbles against your ankle “Feel so good wrapped around me, squeezing me like that” 

He starts a trail of kisses from your ankle to your knee, his hips not faltering in pace, not even once. The last of the stinging ache melts away as your walls stretch to fully accommodate him. He has an iron grip on your ankle, and his fingers on his other hand dig into the meat of your thigh, creating small purple marks under the smooth skin. The hot coil in your stomach is starting to tighten as you moan incessantly. And of course, Joel notices. 

“Get those tits out, angel.” 

You whimper underneath him and try your best to follow his instructions. Your arms feel like cinder blocks as you unclench your fists from the duvet and move your hands to your chest. You grab the cups of your bralette and tug them down, letting your breast spill out over the tops. 

Joel gives you a few words of praise that you can’t fully process. You already feel delirious, his cock quickly turning you into a useless, needy puddle underneath him. 

“Play with ‘em for me.” 

You do as your told and cup your breasts, one in each hand before gently tweaking your nipples with your thumb and forefinger. Joel gives you more indistinguishable praise as you let your eyes slip closed again, completely surrendering to the pleasure coursing through your veins. 

The hand that Joel has wrapped around your ankle slides down to the back of your thigh, pushing on your leg and forcing your knee into your chest and sending his cock even deeper. 

“Ohhh, daddy shit fuckfuckfuckk” you whine as the head of his cock nudges against the spot that only he has ever found over and over again, the same spot he finds every single time. 

“There ya go” he whispers as you start to squirm underneath him, your jaw slack and your walls fluttering around him.  “You gonna cum, pretty girl? Gonna make a mess on daddy’s cock?” 

You nod vigorously but you already know he wants more than that. 

“Want–” you try to start, but Joel’s hand landing on your clit steals your breath, a loud moan coming out instead. 

“C’mon, baby. Keep goin” Joel urges breathlessly, two of his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Sound so pretty when you beg. Look at me while you do it.” 

You groan and open your eyes again to meet his gaze. His chest is heaving with every breath, muscles flexing deliciously as he fucks you with everything that he has, pounding you further and further into the mattress. 

“Please let me cum daddy, M’so close –ah oh my god please let me cum please please please let me.” 

“You can cum, angel. Keep those eyes on me and show me how pretty you look when you cum on this cock” 

It’s only a few more seconds of him pummeling into you and his fingers drawing expert circles on your clit to send you over the edge.

You lock eyes with him and let out a long, loud moan as your orgasm starts to rip through you, your whole body trembling with pure, white hot bliss. He fucks you through it, on the heels of his own release as you shake underneath him, your warm, wet walls rhythmically clenching and fluttering so perfectly around him. 

“Gonna make me cum, honey” Joel grits out, his pace getting more and more uneven. 

“Inside” you manage to whine, still riding out the last of your orgasm. 

“Yeah, baby, I know. Gonna fill you up so good” 

One, two, three more thrusts until you feel his cock pulsing as he starts to spill his load deep inside of you with a loud groan from somewhere deep in his chest. He keeps fucking you, pushing his spend deeper and deeper inside of you until he he’s too sensitive to continue. He buries himself in you as deep as he can and stills. 

After a few moments, Joel straightens your legs out on the mattress then pulls out of you, moving off of you and flopping down flat on his back next to you with a heavy sigh.

Labored breaths are the only sound in the room as you both come down. You whole body feels like jell-o, all thoughts moving slowly through your syrupy head. You can’t help but giggle next to him, feeling positively euphoric after getting your brains fucked out of your skull. 

Joel turns his head to look at you. 

“What’re you laughin’ at?” he asks, a smile quickly spreading on his face. He rolls onto his side and props his head up on his hand. He wraps his other arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, despite you being dead weight right now. 

You look up at him, eyes hooded with a lazy smile. You try to think of something to say but all you can manage is another giggle, which makes Joel chuckle too. 

“You’re such a goose” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

“Thought I was a spoiled little brat?” 

Joel rolls his eyes and rests his cheek on his hand again, his smile still glued to his face. 

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.” 

“So, I’m a spoiled little bratty goose?” 

“Mhmm.” 

You grin and scoot closer into him. 

“That sounds like a lot to handle” 

You squeal when he pinches your hip. 

“Tell me about it,” Joel sighs, lying his head down on the mattress and wrapping his body around yours. You smile like an idiot with your face squished against his chest, fully satisfied once again. 

Thank god you got that promotion. 

Thank you for reading I love all sm!!!

[cheolhub]

MEANT TO BE YOURS — JEON WONWOO ࿐

summary. lying to your boyfriend about being sexually experienced has you stressed beyond belief. it’s a good thing your roommate— aka your best friend— is always there to help you out of every sticky situation.

wc. 7.2k+

warnings. [PLEASE READ THESE!] slight yandere themes (tame obsession, possessiveness, mentions of k1lling reader’s bf, etc.), corruption kink, virginity loss, f. masturbation, cheating (don’t do this), perv!wonu, NEEDY, DESPERATE dom!wonwoo, fingering, heavy praise, pet names (a lot ^^), very light degradation, so much dirty talk (literal filth), unprotected sex, size kink (if u blink, u miss it), kinda angsty ending (oops) — MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok so it’s finally here :p a few things— happy birthday wonwoo, my beloved <3 thank u keir @jeonghantis for reading this over for me, always reassuring me and being my literal rock. i luv u so so much ^^ lastly, this contains cheating which i do NOT condone, nor do i want to glamorize it. it’s simply for the sake of the plot. oj that’s all <3 i worked hard so pls enjoy it >< (if u dont, u should just lie to me anyway)

you were perfect. so sweet and so innocent. you were a doll in the eyes of wonwoo, with skin so smooth against his calloused hands and a smile so perfect, he can’t help but melt at the sight of it. 

his adoration for you was obviously in moderation, he’s a sensible man after all. it’s not like he’d stand over you while you sleep and watch the way your barely-clothed chest rises up and falls down so enticingly or fuck his fist and imagine it’s your tight-virgin cunt milking him for all he’s worth or steal a pair of lace panties and absolutely ruin them. you’re his best friend not to mention his roommate. he can’t do things like that— it’s wrong. 

so why does it feel so fucking good to imagine how sweet your moans would sound while he fucks you senseless, “wonwoo! wonwoo!”

wonwoo maintains his cool even in the most unfavorable moments. when you leave your shared bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around your chest, when you walk around in silky night shorts, when you press your tits flush against him every time you give him a hug— it’s too much sometimes. 

he can't be angry, though, it’s not like you know any better. 

just like how you don't know how loud you’re being when you have one dainty little finger shoved inside your sopping pussy. he watches through the tiny crack of your door with his bottom lip lodged between his teeth, just slight of drawing blood. he sees how your eyes are screwed shut and your back is arched as you inconsistently try to fuck a single finger in and out of you. 

the room is filled with desperate huffs and moans, bouncing between the four walls of his old gaming room; it all rushes straight to wonwoo’s cock. 

you sound so needy and he can tell you’re growing frustrated at the lack of results. you’re craving release, he can tell– 

and he wants to help you. so bad.

he has to, right? that’s his job as a dutiful best friend— taking care of his pretty girl. plus, it’s not like he’s really doing anything wrong. he likes to think he’s just doing you a huge favor. 

he steps away from the door before knocking quietly, hearing the halt in moans and jostling of the white bedsheets he’s memorized the scent of. he stifles a laugh, imagining how hot your face must be knowing that you’re easily flustered. 

“just a second!” you pant and he’s so caught up in thought that he almost misses your soft voice, “okay…you can come in.” it’s as if you’re embarrassed, but you have no reason to be. it’s just him, your roommate. your best friend. your wonwoo. 

he finds that he was right. as soon as he walked in, he noticed your embarrassed face and he could almost feel the heat radiating from your body.

“won?”

his cock throbs in his loose plaid pajama pants at the name you had given him ages ago. “Y/N, i-i just wanted to check on you… heard noises when i was passing by your room,” 

“oh…” you mumble, gripping the comforter covering your body. you’re sheepish, shrugging at his concern. “thought you were out with gyu.” 

your words are barely audible. you’re too humiliated to tell him what you were doing and, not to mention, how you were probably, most likely doing it incorrectly. 

“nah,” he shakes his head, reverting the conversation back to the massive elephant in the room. “anything on your mind?” he tries, moving to sit on the bed next to you.

you sigh, cracking the unfazed facade you wore. tears form on your lash line; you’re beyond embarrassed. mortified, if you will. this is probably the worst possible thing to happen in all your years of living. 

no, this is the worst thing to happen to you in all your years of living– nothing will ever beat you getting caught masturbating incorrectly by your best friend. 

“wonwoo…” you sniffle and he immediately stiffens at the unanticipated sound. “i just… my… boyfriend wants to start doing stuff with me and i lied ‘n told him that i’ve done stuff before, but i haven’t ‘n—“

“hey…breathe, Y/N,” he shushes, reaching over to wipe the tears from your eyes. as much as he’s concerned with your feelings, he can’t help but pause—boyfriend? since when did you have a fucking boyfriend? he knew you were going on dates and meeting guys, and of course he didn’t like it, but he thought they were flings that would eventually fizzle out. why wasn’t he aware of this dick? his chest bubbles with newfound jealousy and discontent. without a doubt, he’d kill the first ill-mannered fucker he saw put his hands on you. 

however, he plays dumb to hide the fact. “what type of stuff are we talking about?” 

you bite back a whine, a small pout forming on your face, “you know what stuff, won, don’t make me say it.” 

he chuckles, airily, shaking his head. yes, of course he knows, but he wants to hear you say it. wants to hear you say filthy things with your innocent voice that he simply can’t get enough of. “i don’t know what you’re going on about. for all i know, we could be talking about drugs,” 

you let out a giggle, playfully smacking his shoulder. “no!” you tell him and he gives you an expectant look. one that screams tell me.

your laughter dies down and you fall silent for a few seconds. you inhale sharply, “wonwoo… he… he wants to have sex with me,” you mutter, completely catching him off guard. “and i lied about having experience… i’ve never even touched myself,” you say unwarranted, feeling your cheeks heat up in mortification once again. you hide your face in your hands after exposing yourself to your more-mature, experienced best friend. “god, i’m such a loser,”

“hey, don’t say that. there’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced. none of that’s important if you love someone.” the same way he loves you. “plus, a lot of guys like inexperienced girls.” he murmurs, mostly speaking for himself, though the only inexperienced girl– girl, in general– he likes is you. 

a sigh escapes your lips at his words, “but… i don’t wanna be inexperienced. i wanna know what i’m doing and how to do it right…i wish i was more like you,” you frown, removing your hands to look at him, confusion prevalent on his face. “you seem like you’re so good at everything when it comes to… that…kinda stuff…”

his throat dries, “h-how would you even know that?”

“well, i mean…you’re not exactly the quietest, wonwoo,” 

wonwoo is shocked, honestly. he knew he had a handful of hookups and one night stands, but he never thought you would’ve known that. 

besides, he always imagined them to be you riding him, crying for him. as much as he loves getting his dick wet, he would never see another girl again if it meant even one chance with you. 

it's a stretch. a big one, but if he could give you the earth, he would– in a single heartbeat with no hesitation whatsoever. “well… then do you want me to maybe… show you? what it’s like…? give you a good first experience?”

your body freezes and your eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. sure, you’ve always found your best friend attractive, but you figured that couldn’t be helped. you knew you never had a chance, not when he had an endless line of girls who would do anything for just one night with him. 

wonwoo is the definition of womanizer, he always has been. for as long as you could remember, girls would throw themselves at him and praise him like he was some kind of god. in some ways, you thought he was.

in all fairness, he was gorgeous and tall and strong. a catch, as some girls would say. he smelled good, too. so good it makes your head spin and your body flood with heat. and he had that rare smile– the one he’d only show the ones he loved– and it was blindingly beautiful. it was a smile that made you feel blessed. a smile that made you feel lucky because you were always on the receiving end– wonwoo always smiled at you.

he never pursued as many girls as you thought he would have. you always figured that’s what guys liked– all of the girls fawning over them– but wonwoo was so different. he didn’t like the attention that much, but, unfortunately for him, that’s what comes with being as handsome as he is. 

you knew he was out of your league. he was everything a girl would want and what were you in a sea of girls? a sea of girls with loads of experience and confidence, for that matter. 

you were just lucky to have him in your life because he really was such a good friend. he’s always been so protective of you since he met you all those years ago through a mandatory math tutoring session. nothing could ruin the image you have of him– not even the ear-splitting moans of the girls he fucks. you want nothing but for him to be your friend forever. 

and maybe you have imagined… once or twice… what it would be like to be one of the obnoxiously loud girls in his bed, but that didn’t mean you wanted it… did it?

you try to play it off to see if he was pulling another one of his typical stunts on you. “wonwoo, this isn’t funny—“

“i‘m being serious,” he says so earnestly, leaning into you, the proximity between the two of you quickly closing. you feel like you should pull back, tell him to stop, kick him out— anything— but you just can’t. “lemme help you, sweetheart… i‘ll show you how to feel good,” his minty breath fans over your face.

your body twitches, feeling a soft pulse in your lower region when the familiar pet name falls from his lips. your pace of breath quickens along with your heartbeat. 

“is…isn’t this wrong?” you ask. you want to scold your brain for wanting to do this with your best friend whom you live with. not to mention the fact that you also have a boyfriend.

yes, you think, this is totally and completely wrong. 

he shakes his head, “it’s not, promise, ‘m just helping a friend out… only if you’ll let me,” his voice hushes to a whisper as his hand pulls the comforter off your body, a large hand moving to take a hold of your waist, the other on your bare thigh extremely close to the thin pink fabric of your absolutely-soiled panties. 

you’re left panting at the little contact, skin itching for even more. “wonwoo…” you whisper and it’s absolutely desperate. “wonwoo, w-what will i tell him?”

he feels his blood boil and he has to keep from snapping at the mere mention of that son of a bitch. he doesn’t even know him and, even still, he wants to bash his head in. “you don’t have to tell him anything,” he responds to you sweetly despite how angry and desperate he is. 

you won’t have to do a thing. he’ll take care of everything for you, especially that boyfriend of yours.

you contemplate your options, but it’s getting harder to have a coherent thought with his warm hand being so incredibly close to your needy pussy. 

wonwoo is just helping you, he even said it himself. if anything, he’s getting you out of the sticky situation you made for yourself. 

and so you nod your head, whimpering out the words. “okay wonwoo… please help me,”

unbeknownst to you, wonwoo was hoping you’d say that. hoping you’d let him help you stretch you out (not for your boyfriend, but for him). help you take his cock. help you cum all over him and corrupt your pretty body. he’ll help you leave your boyfriend and realize that wonwoo is all you’ll need. all you’ll want. all you’ll know. he’ll help you, his best friend, his pretty girl, his fucking dream. 

your words trigger something in his brain and it’s all he needs before closing the gap between the two of you. the way he practically pounces on you and slots your lips together, it’s similar to a predator going after its prey.

it’s apparent you’re not as skilled as him as your lips struggle to keep up, whimpering at how rough he was being. you open your mouth a little bit to tell him to slow down, but instead, he pushes his tongue inside and explores the warmth and wetness of your mouth. 

and he can’t slow down. he can usually keep his composure and control himself, but you don’t even know how long he’s been waiting for this moment. if only you knew the perverted things your best friend had done without your knowledge, there’s no way you’d let him anywhere near you. he can’t stop, tongue inspecting every inch of your mouth until he feels your hands press flat against his chest in an attempt to push him away.

your swollen lips turn into a pout staring into his eyes filled with hunger and desire. “won,” you say, a lilt to your angelic voice. fuck, is all wonwoo can think as he finally realizes how hard and leaky his cock is after all this time. “can’t keep up…”

he almost feels bad, but every time he feels remorse it’s overshadowed by the burning desire to hear you, feel you, see you cum… just for him, not your silly little boyfriend, that fucking asshole. he needs you to be his. 

“‘m sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, hands inching up your upper thigh. “i‘ll slow down, yeah?” his voice drips with desperation and, god, you feel your pussy flooding with more of your warm arousal. 

you nod, leaning into him again, pressing a kiss against his lips. his lips are soft as they mold into yours, nothing like what you’re used to. you couldn’t even compare wonwoo’s lips to anything– not even your boyfriend. 

you feel heat course your veins. everything is so hot, the room feels like it’s on fire. when did it get so hot? you want to hide in his neck, in your pillow, in something, but wonwoo gives you no room to be shy. 

the intrusive thoughts are cut short when you feel his warm hand slide into your panties, a deep gasp escaping your lips. his fingers quickly find your hardened clit, untouched and desperate for attention. the initial touch has shockwaves jolting through your body and you swear you won’t be able to survive anything more than that. 

you part your lips from him as his two fingers rub swift circles into your clit, timid whines and moans erupting from your chest and your eyes practically taped shut as you feel his burning gaze on your face. it’s when your hips unintentionally begin to move, grinding into his hand, softly moaning his name out, “wonwoo!” that he loses it. 

“fuck,” he mutters, removing his hand and watching your face of pleasure turn into complete shock. he ignores your whiny protests, gently pushing you to lay on your back. “shhh, baby, trust me. gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, don’t you worry.”

his hands peel the panties off you, rolling them off your legs and inspecting them– they’re new. you don’t need to know that he knows, though. especially since he is the reason you needed to get more.

nonetheless, he tosses them to the side. you’re sure if your judgment wasn’t clouded by the new overwhelming craving you have for pleasure, your body would burn in humiliation due to being exposed to your best friend. the same best friend who’s always been there for you and seen you at your very worst, yet continues to be there for you when you need him. 

with hearts in his eyes, he stares at your glistening cunt, “jesus christ,” he murmurs, “prettiest fucking pussy in the world, might have to keep you all to myself.” he knows the words are going through one ear and out the other, but the way you moan and arch your back for a single touch eggs him on.

“wonwoo,” you whimper softly. 

“yes, baby, what do you need?” he knows exactly what you need. you need him to rub your clit, press his fingers into your tight pussy and open you up, and you especially need him to tell you how well you’re doing– he fucking knows, but he needs to hear you say it. he needs your pretty little mouth to tell him. 

you pant, pussy getting wetter by the second solely off the pet names and wonwoo’s voice alone. “need you to help me like you promised… please help me…”

and he can’t resist when you sound so needy. he’s 99% sure he could cum untouched just at the sight of you under him with tears in your eyes while you beg for him to touch you. you’re so perfect, so so perfect and he doesn't understand how no one has taken you away from him yet. 

“you want my fingers, sweetheart? want me to help you open up this pretty cunt for my cock?” he asks hotly, leaning in closer to your body. 

you gasp at his words, your leaky hole clenching around nothing. “god, yes, yes, wonwoo, yes,” you nod your head vigorously, shyness fleeing your body as you're taken over by pure need. “please gimme your fingers.”

he smirks at your words and his dick twitches at the request. he knows this moment will replay in his head during every second of the day till he can have you like this again. 

“good girl,” he whispers, pressing a peck to your swollen lips and keens when you chase him for another with a whimper. “brace yourself for me… might sting a little, but it’ll feel really good after a while. tell me if you need me to stop, hmm?” 

you nod your head, stomach swirling with endless amounts of anticipation. the calloused pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing into it once more. you figure it’s to distract you from the feeling of his lengthy digit pressing into your hole.

a whine erupts from your throat at the tiny stretch that stings throughout your body. you take a deep breath, trying to relax as wonwoo pushes the finger in and out at a slow and steady pace. 

“doing so well for me, pretty. promise it’ll feel good when you get used to it,” he reassures with a tight-lipped smile as if he’s getting ready to burst at any given moment. 

that’s probably because he is. watching your tight pussy swallow his finger and wrap so nicely around him has him reeling. he thinks about what it’d be like to watch his cock disappear inside of you, for your velvet walls to wrap around him like you were made just for his cock. 

luckily, the sting fades away sooner than you thought it would, just as wonwoo had promised. your tiny whimpers of pain were soon replaced by pleasured moans, and he can tell that you’re ready for more of his fingers. 

he pulls out his middle finger to bring two of them together. you gasp in surprise feeling the pads of his two fingers circle at your entrance before they push their way inside of you. 

it hurts more than the first finger, you have to admit, but you take him in easily with the amount of arousal that pools out of your pussy. you pant, whines dying on your tongue as you feel the burning stretch. you don’t tell him to stop, though, not like you’d want to. 

wonwoo’s close to losing it. he can feel the way you clench around his fingers, almost like you're trying to push him out but suck him in at the same time. you’re so fucking tight and he thinks he must be in heaven. you’re the last thing he deserves, yet here you are, swallowing his big fingers in your pretty, virgin cunt. 

he gradually spreads his fingers, opening you up and the experimental move has you moaning. “that feel alright?” he asks almost breathlessly. 

you give him a broken nod, “feels weird… b-but good.” you attempt to inform. 

you’re sheepish for a few minutes as he’s slowly scissoring his fingers inside of you, but the question comes out before your hazy mind can fully comprehend. “c-can you try three?” it comes out a bit slurred and timid, but wonwoo understands. he completely understands. 

he wants, so badly, to fuck you stupid. to the point where you don’t know how to speak. he wants to call you his greedy slut for wanting more even though it makes him see red. he opts out, though, not wanting your first time to be tainted with degrading words because he knows you’re  good. a good girl just for him. no one else. 

“oh, baby,” he coos, body filling with even more need. he presses his ring finger inside of you and basking in your cry all the while purring, “you’re doing so fucking well for me.”

you involuntarily clench at his words, back slightly arching off the bed as you moan. “wonwoo.”

he lets out a guttural moan at the sound of his name on your tongue. it’s the way he’s heard it in his dreams, the dreams where he’s ruining you for everyone else. 

wonwoo knows he’s crazy, trust, he knows. he understands the way he feels about you is abnormal, but fuck, right now? he feels absolutely, postively insane. 

“god, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispers, his mind slowly drifting. “so fucking pretty taking my fingers like this, taking ‘em like a champ.”

he thrusts his fingers into you with ease, stretching you effectively while being sure to rub at your sweet spot. he watches them disappear and reappear at your opening while also stealing glances at your scrunched up face. you’re such an angel.

after a while, the burning sting leaves and you’re left with an immense pleasure. you didn’t think it would get any better, but there’s an unfamiliar pressure building in your tummy and you feel the need to clamp down on his digits. it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before and you swear you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy. 

“wonwoo… wonwoo,” you gasp, hand blindly searching for his wrist as your eyes screw closed. “f-feels…weird… fuck! wonwoo!”

and wonwoo jus can’t. he can’t let you cum like this for the first time, it would be a crime. when you cum for the first time, he needs it to be on his cock.

he hates himself for doing so, but his movements stop. you gasp loudly, “no, no, no!” you cry out, tears forming in your eyes. you were so close, but it was unfairly taken away from you in a matter of seconds. “no, no, please keep going, please!”

“i want your first time to be on my cock, sweetheart, want you to remember it that way.” he says with his voice low. so low you can hear the beautiful rasp of his voice. “you want that don’t you? you want my cock, yeah?” 

you nod profusely, face heating up at his words and the way he articulates them. “y-yes… i do.” you mumble. 

“that’s a good girl.”

you moan at the praise, hips bucking up again as he stands to slip off his loose pjs. when they fall, his hard cock slaps against his covered abdomen and you feel your heart skip a beat at his size. 

you gasp, sitting up as your sensitive cunt pulses once more. it’s so fucking pretty. you’ve heard your girl friends talk about how ugly and gross dicks were, a conversation that you never had input for, but after seeing wonwoo’s, you know they haven’t been blessed with the sight of one like his. 

he’s huge, for starters. it makes your tummy churn and swirl because you know he won’t be able to fit inside of you— not all at once at least. it’s long with prominent veins running through. the tip is flushed and leaky and he looks so hard it hurts. 

“won’t fit,” you whimper slowly gravitating towards him at the edge of your bed, eyes not leaving the throbbing member. “it’s not gonna fit, won,” you look up at him through your lashes and his entire body twitches as he looks down at your doe eyes. 

“and how do you know that?” he grabs your face with one of his hands, squishing your cheeks with his pointer and thumb finger. “you can take it, baby, don’t worry. i’ll be gentle.”

the tone of his voice drops an octave, and this time, you don’t believe him. there is something predatory about his words that makes you squirm and gush under his gaze. you don’t think he’ll be gentle, the way he looks at you like… it’s like he’s about to have his last meal. 

and, honestly, you find that you love it. you love having him look at you like he’s yours and your his. you love his attention. you love having him like this. 

he pushes you back again, your back hitting the plush bed. you bite your lip as you see him join and tower over you. he flashes a smile and you slowly melt and wither away under him, body squirming a bit. 

he looks in between your bodies and realizes he’s not wearing a condom. his face drains of color at the thought of your cunt taking his cock bare. “sweetheart… wait,”

your eyes widen and your lips form into a small pout, “what is it? what’s wrong?”

“need to get a condom,” he huffs and it’s apparent that he’s not very happy about the idea. he’s always worn one. every time. with every girl he’s ever been with. but every single time he’s imagined taking you, it was without one. he wants nothing in the way between you and him, but, of course, he needs to respect you and think about your safety. no matter how bad he wants it.

you furrow your eyebrows, “...why?” you whisper. 

this time, he mirrors your confused look. you’re a virgin, sure, but you must know what a condom is. “what do you mean why, angel? it’s pro–”

you shake your head, cutting him off. “i mean, why do you need it? are you… not clean?” you ask worriedly. 

“no, of course i am!”

“well, don’t leave me here,” you mumble. “‘m on the pill now, so you should be fine without one… now, please? wanna feel like i did before… wanna feel all of you…”

wonwoo now knows he’s died. he’s died and now he’s in paradise. you, and all your beauty, laying under him with the prettiest pout, begging for him. for his cock. raw. everything he’s dreamed of is about to come true... if he doesn’t cum first.

“god,” he mutters. he takes his length in his hand, stroking himself before lining up with your entrance. “you want my cock then?” he whispers, dragging the tip up and down your messy folds. 

“yeah, please… go slow…” 

he lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head before guiding himself back to your dripping hole. he inhales sharply, pushing himself inside, immediately entranced by the feeling of your warmth enveloping him whole. 

you wince letting out a soft cry of his name. he pushes past the resistance and you feel him taking something that’s been so sacred for as long as you could remember, but if you’re being transparent you couldn’t be happier that it’s him. you wouldn’t want anyone else to be in this position.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts with his raspy, deep voice that makes you clench even tighter around him. “fuck, so fucking tight, baby. so perfect.” he can barely trust his voice. it’s barely been five minutes, but he swears on everything he’s never felt this good before. 

you’re not even sure his fingers helped you enough because the stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. “hurts…” you whimper out, eyes screwed close to keep the pained tears from falling. 

he bites his lip to suppress a moan at the sight of you like this, instead asking, “you good, baby? need me to pull out?” he’ll die if you do, so he hopes you answer against the idea. 

“n-no,” you pant, trying to breathe your way through the pain. “j-just go slow…s’big, feel too full,” you reply, brain unable to give him complete sentences. 

his eyes almost roll at your broken words. “i know, baby, i know. you’re doing so well for me, hm? takin’ it well all for me,” he manages to tell you even though he’s twitching like he might explode within the next 30 seconds. 

his praise makes you gasp as you arch your back, a new gush of arousal coating his hard length. when wonwoo speaks to you like this, it makes your head fog. the validation and praise and the lovingness behind it all makes you want to have him forever. you want him to speak to you like you're his baby forever. 

it almost makes you forget that this is just a favor. that you have a boyfriend and he has a sea of gorgeous women lined up for him. almost. 

after a few more minutes of slowly inching his way inside you, he finally bottoms out. you’re already a bit sore from the stretch, but the pain recedes and he fits like a glove. like he was made to be inside you and you were made to take him and all of his glory. it only riles you up, your pussy tightening around him even more. 

he groans out your name, “fuck, don’t do that or i won’t be able to last, pretty girl.”

“‘m sorry,” you mewl. “can’t help it, feels so good, wonwoo,” you finally open your eyes to look into his. “keep moving please?” you pout, keeping your tears at bay. 

he can’t emphasize how close he is to spontaneously combusting and pumping you full just to fuck you over and over again. he wants to fuck you till your pussy’s raw and you’re begging for mercy. he wants to see your pretty tears, hear your cries, see you dripping in sweat and cum. 

he doesn’t say anything, pulling out slowly and pushing himself back in. you gasp, hands moving to tug on the fabric of his shirt in attempts to pull it off. 

“ah, ah, ah,” wonwoo reprimands. “can’t be the only one without a shirt, baby, you gotta take yours off first.” he smirks at your eagerness. 

you nod quickly as you sit up, still so full of him, peeling your flimsy tank top off. you free your chest and wonwoo groans when he finally sees them. 

“so pretty…” he mumbles, pushing you back down with a bit more force than you were expecting. one of his hands comes to squeeze the fat, fondling it like he’s wanted to for so long. his cock thrusts into you again a bit faster and you cry again at the stimulation. 

“t-take it off!” you beg, reaching for the shirt again. 

he chuckles, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the pile of clothes on the floor. once you see his skin, your arms immediately wrap around his neck pulling him down for a kiss. you imitate the actions of your first kiss earlier, opening your mouth to let his tongue in. you let him sloppily makeout with your own. 

it’s messy. a newfound experience for you. you’ve never had a kiss like this– never had a kiss where it felt like you were about to get swallowed whole. you’ve never had a kiss filled with so much passion, a kiss so loud where you’re moaning into someone's mouth and they’re moaning into yours so lustily. it’s your first. wonwoo’s your first for many it seems. 

wonwoo can’t say he’s never had a messy kiss because he’s had plenty. maybe a few too many. but, unbeknownst to you, he’s never felt so eager for anyone in all his years of knowing you– lusting after you. he wants this so bad. he wants you so fucking bad it’s making his throat constrict, his abdomen tighten, his dick twitch as it’s surrounded by your warm walls.

his cock fills you up so well and you feel like there’s a big possibility that you may get addicted to the feeling. now that the pain has subsided, you can feel the prominent veins pressing into your velvety walls. you can feel every twitch and his bulbous head rubbing right against that spot that’s turning your brain into mush. 

“fuck, baby, you’re so good,” he moans into your mouth, thrusts increasing in pace. 

“love it when you call me that,” you admit, mindlessly. you pull him in closer, nails digging into his back, imprinting red crescent shapes in the skin. 

he lets out a guttural groan, breaking from the kiss and looking into your teary eyes. “you like being my good little baby, huh?” he asks breathlessly and when you whine and clench around him, he chuckles. “i can tell, angel, pretty pussy is loving my cock– swallowing all of me like such a good slut.”

he didn’t mean to say it, but when the words slip out, your eyes widen. his expression mirrors yours and his speed falters. your pulse thumps erratically and you’re sure your heart is going to lurch out of your chest, teeth catching your bottom lip, biting and digging into the pillowy muscle. 

“i didn’t mean–”

“keep going…” you whisper, hooking your legs around his waist to pull him into you and return to his prior pace. “oh, won, please keep going.” your begs make him reel. 

your pupils are completely blown out now. like you’ve taken some type of drug and you’re feeling the euphoric effects of it all. you can’t wrap your head around why you feel the way you do because of one degrading word. 

jesus christ, he thinks to himself. he has to be in love. you’re so greedy, so much potential to be his gorgeous girl. he thinks you’re perfect for him– no, he knows you’re perfect for him. he’s confident with the way he fits in you and the way you trust him with your body. he can’t even care to think about your stupid boyfriend. you’re his now. his to fuck stupid and pump full of cum. his to punish and praise and pleasure. he’ll turn you into his own little cockhungry slut.

his thoughts get the best of him as he nearly blacks out at the idea of you being his. his hips snap against yours with a particularly harsh thrust and he feels his tip kissing your cervix and you sob out, “fuh-fuck!”

and at the sound of your sobs and pleads and curses, he feels as if he can’t restrain himself any longer. he sits up on his knees, hands grabbing at your waist with a vice-like grip that will likely result in splats of purple bruises the next morning. not like either of you could give a fuck. he relentlessly pounds into you, balls lewdly slapping against your sloppy cunt without a care in the world. 

your cries and his groans plus all the pornographic sounds your bodies make together fill the room, bouncing off your cutely decorated walls. he can tell you’re going to cum soon when your breathing picks up, watching the way your chest rises and falls at an alarming rate.

you suddenly remember how you felt right before he had snatched his fingers from you earlier. you can feel it creeping back up, the fiery knot in your tummy tightening. your hand finds the sensitive bud wonwoo was toying with earlier, gently rubbing circles into it. 

he notices immediately and grunts. “such a greedy girl already, aren’t you? i’ve ruined you.” ruined you for everyone else and it’s been the best thing he’s ever done, he fails to add. 

you nod, tears dripping down the sides of your face. “g-god!”

“not quite, baby.” he chuckles breathily. “gonna cum for me? hmm, baby? gonna soak my cock for the first time like the good little slut you are?” he rambles, his own orgasm– that he’s held back all this time– quickly approaching.

you mewl at the mixed praise and degradation once more, fingers working faster as your brain numbs. “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you slur. “oh, ‘m gonna… wonwoo, ‘m gonna–!”

the words die on your tongue– the stimulation on your clit and the stimulation of his cock ramming into your sweet spot has you coming all over him. your back arches and your thighs convulse as you clamp around his cock. a squealing mantra of his name and curses flee your mouth as the tightrope in your tummy snaps.

you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything as euphoric in your life. it feels so good to let go and gush all over his cock while he fucks you through your orgasm so erratically. you can tell he’s close, too. a few more seconds and he’ll be making a mess. 

“ah, fuck– ‘m so close, baby, pretty pussy’s milking me for all i’m worth,” he moans out the warning. “love it so much.” he loves you so much.

you can barely hear a noise, let alone comprehend any of his words, so you just nod frantically as your sensitive body twitches under him sporadically. 

his thrusts go sloppy and before you know it, he pulls out, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. “fuck,” he grunts before he’s overtaken by the immense pleasure your pussy’s given him. he moans and lets out small whimpers as he pumps his cock, painting your sheen skin with his warm seed. he throws his head back as he moans out your name, “Y/N, fuck,”

he wishes so badly he could have came inside of you, but he’s going to make sure there’s another opportunity for that. he’ll be damned if he never fucks your cute pussy again. 

you whimper at the sudden warm substance on your skin. your eyes crack open to see your stomach covered in a sticky, white liquid– or maybe a mix between liquid and solid. your not sure you know how to describe it. 

you look at him as your mind comes to you. his hair disheveled, a few strays sticking to his sweaty forehead and the pace, at which, his chest rises and falls slows till it’s normal once more. 

when you come down, you suddenly remember your boyfriend. you were so sure you wanted him till wonwoo looked at you, made you feel special, took your virginity– now, you’re a mess. the mental image of your boyfriend fogs over in your head with words wonwoo whispered to you while he was fucking you. 

but you shouldn’t think about it anymore, right? everything was going to go back to normal after tonight, wouldn’t it? wonwoo will ever forgot this happened and he would bring some girl over when he thought you were gone and fuck her the same way he fucked you. you’d go back to thinking about your boyfriend trying to push the thoughts of your best friend making you cum over and over out of your head (it won’t work, but a girl can dream). all will be well. for one of you, at least.

“Y/N?” he mumbles. 

you look up at him and give him a small smile, “thanks for your help, won,” you whisper masking the sadness in your voice. “‘m gonna shower…” you don’t wait for his reply before you move off your bed. 

your legs are wobbly and your entirety feels sore. he really did a number on you. you whimper with every step you take and wonwoo quickly finds his pants and slips them on before rushing to your side.

“Y/N, c’mon, lemme take care of you.” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist to ground you and keeping your body from hobbling over. “get back on the bed, baby,” he whispers into your ear. 

you huff, physically unable to fight him on the matter and shuffling back to your bed uncomfortably. the ache between your legs and the nasty feeling of his release drying on your naked body were not a good mix. then you fucking remembered you were naked. you gasp, startling wonwoo, your arms wrapping around your body in attempts to hide yourself as if he hadn’t fucked you five minutes ago. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, a look of confusion painting his face.

“y-you… i… i’m naked…” you tell him meekly, moving to lay on the bed again. “this… is so weird.”

he smiles softly at your sudden shyness. “back to being shy, are we?” you frown at him and he just laughs heartily, your body filling with even more dread because– god. he’s just perfect and not yours. “‘m only teasing, doll, ‘s okay.”

you don’t reply, awkwardly shifting under his gaze. the pet name sounds so natural. like he’s meant to call you pretty things. like you're meant to be his.

but he’s not yours and you’re not his.

you stutter, words fleeing you in the moment you need them most. “wonwoo… i-i…”

you look like you’re on the brink of tears, guilt wracking your body. wonwoo feels his chest tighten, breath hitching in his dry throat, “Y/N, do you regret it?” he asks, words hushed. he’s anxious. 

“no! no, no, i don’t… i don’t regret it. i trust you more than anyone, wonwoo. i promise.” you say meekly and he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. “i just… can we act like it never happened?”

the weight returns. heavier. it nearly crushes him. he couldn’t forget about this even if he’d wanted to. he’s already tattooed every second of tonight into his fuzzy brain. every reaction, every moan, every single word you gave him is all he’ll think about. 

he clears his throat, a shaky exhale slipping his lips before asking, “if you don’t regret it then why…?” he can’t even get the question out. he knows the answer. (read: the unnamed boyfriend– the one that he swears he’ll kill the second he meets him.)

you avert your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “you know why.” 

he does. 

“and plus, we’re just friends. and roommates. it’ll just be awkward.” you cringe at your words because, unbeknownst to him, you don’t want to forget it. you know you won’t be able to forget it. not the possessive words that he spat during his sex-crazed haze, not the way his cock felt, not the way he looked at you.  

he waits for you to look at him, but you don’t. you can’t look at him right now. 

“okay.” he says coldly after sitting in deafening silence for over a minute. “consider it forgotten.”

he’ll make you his one of these days. you may not know it yet, but you belong with him. and he’d do anything for you. 

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[cowboydisaster]

Dark Red

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 5.6k summary: The Task Force 141 goes out drinking, and you wind up on your stomach in Ghost's bed. If you knew it would only take a few rounds of drinks, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. (eventual smut, lots of family 141 interactions beforehand) a/n: This is my first COD fic and also the first thing I've written since May, so go easy on me if it's ooc pls xx. If you like this fic please give a follow or a reblog, I'm fixing up my blog and I'll be writing a lot more Simon. beta read by @margowritesthings warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (smut, fingering, size difference, doggy)

masterlist

Your dress is wrapped tightly around your frame, held up by tiny golden chains that drape over your shoulders. It's dark green, and just barely covers your ass. It's definitely not the tactical gear that you’re used to wearing. You swallow thickly, pulling it down over your thighs as much as possible as you glance over yourself in the mirror. You barely recognize the reflection in front of you. No eye black, no tac-vest or combat boots. Tonight you’re not a soldier, you’re a civilian.

Price had arranged a night out to celebrate the 141’s latest win. He invited the Task Force alongside some allies for drinks at a club of all places, figuring everyone deserved to unwind. You were hesitant at first, but the boys all reassured you it would be just a few drinks. 

Once all the little details of your outfit are in place, you give yourself a onceover before pushing open Price’s bathroom door. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price are all leaning over the kitchen counter, speaking quietly about the mission. They smile, oblivious to you as you exit the bathroom, feeling a bit self conscious about the dress Kate insisted you wear. That is until Ghost catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye and quietens. He turns, and you watch his back straighten, hands in the pockets of his jeans as his eyes slowly run up and down your body. Something about that stare… you wonder if Ghost would ever see you the way you see him. It's been years now of you pining after him. You could never tell him. He’s your lieutenant, and besides, you’ve heard what happens to the recruits who make a move on Ghost. Every single one of them was harshly rejected and dropped from the program. You can't compromise your job, especially not for someone who doesn’t want you back. 

 Ghost stares, and the other three men turn to you in sync. A fierce blush blooms across your face as four pairs of eyes land on you. Ghost is wearing that familiar balaclava, the one he wears out in public or around the base. It hides everything but his eyes, and you stare into their swirling depths for a moment before the eye contact becomes too much. You clear your throat, glancing down over your dress. 

“Too much…?” You whisper, questioning your choice of fashion and makeup. 

“No…Not too mu–” Ghost is cut off as Soap lunges forward with a smile bigger than Texas and slaps you on the arm.

“Lookin’ good, bonnie lass!” Soap laughs. He looks nice himself. You’ve only seen him in sweats around the base, but tonight all four of your teammates are dressed to the nines. 

“Not so bad yourself, Johnny.” You smile, clutching a small purse to your hip. 

“We ready then, Cap?” Gaz asks, glancing up from his phone for a moment, “Laswell just got there, said she brought König.” 

“Yes.” Price smiles at you, checking his watch, “I've ordered two Ubers. Should both be here.” 

You follow them outside, smiling and nodding to Ghost as he holds the door open for you. The Captain and Gaz take the first car while you file into the second with Ghost and Soap. Soap sits in the front, leaving you in the back with Ghost. Your lieutenant is quiet most of the ride over, letting Johnny fill the silence, which he does. But it's hard to focus on Soap talking. You’re hyper aware of the eyes on you and how exposed you are. Your breasts are practically pushed up into your face, and the dress suddenly feels all too tight. You’re used to fighting, not celebrating, not partying. You take a few deep breaths, knowing that once you get a few drinks in your system you’ll feel better. 

“You alright?” 

Your eyes flick up. It’s Ghost, just barely over a whisper. His eyes are fixated on something out of the window, but he still must have noticed your anxiety. You nod.

“Just nervous.” You admit, “I’m not used to all this.” You whisper, gesturing down to your dress and matching strappy heels, then to the car that is driving you through the nightlife. Ghost smirks under his mask. 

“Me neither. Bourbon helps.” He says. 

“You drink bourbon?” You ask, glancing over. Soap hasn’t noticed your little conversation and continues to chat up the driver. You hadn’t taken Ghost as a bourbon man, he’s piqued your curiosity. 

“I fancy Kentucky.” He remarks. You chuckle. 

“Don’t let him know that.” You nod your head in Soap’s direction. 

“Never.” Ghost smirks, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Your eyes fixate on the tattoos lining his left arm, just briefly exposed. You force your eyes away, knowing if you stare too long you’ll get caught up in the intricate pattern. The thought of running your fingers over those tattoos lingers in your head, soothing you enough to make the ride. 

—

The club is nice. Colored lights stream from the ceiling, a steady thrum of music vibrates lowly through the walls. You take in your surroundings, watching people drink, and dance with one another. It's a bit dark, hard to make out faces. You take note of all the exits while following behind Gaz and Price, both leading you all towards a closed off section of the club. Laswell is already there waiting along with her wife and König. The man must have already had a few drinks because he’s more relaxed than you've ever seen him. König’s eyes immediately land on you, and flutter down to the short cut off of your dress. You gasp as a burly figure pushes past you, separating you from König’s eyes. Ghost. He stands between the two of you and starts unclipping the velvet rope that separates you from the VIP section, much to the bouncer’s frustration. You blush, looking back to König whose eyes are sheepishly staring at the floor. Ghost must have pulled out his famous deadly glare. Your cheeks burn red. 

“There you are!” Laswell exclaims, motioning for the bouncer to lift the velvet rope that secures her area. No one seems to have noticed the little interaction between Ghost and König, thankfully. 

“VIP?” You chuckle. “Was that some CIA shit?” You ask, passing into the nicer, more secluded area of the club. A couch wraps around the corner wall, a table sitting in front of it. 

“Afraid not.” She smiles, wrapping an arm around her wife’s shoulders. You take a seat on the couch, watching as Ghost motions for Price to follow him towards the bar.

“We’ll be back.” He mumbles. Price pats Ghost on the shoulder as you watch them leave. 

“So, König?” Soap asks as he sits down, nodding towards the masked man. You take note that a beanie rests atop his head in place of his usual tac helmet. 

“Hmm?” König asks, suddenly alert. His eyes dart until they land on Soap. 

“How many drinks is it gonna take for you to shed the mask?” The scot asks. König grows quiet, tightly gripping his beer bottle by the neck. 

“Nein, I do not–” König begins before Soap jumps up, fist down on the table. 

“Nine?!” Soap laughs, “Keep em comin’, Ghost!” Soap hollers towards the bar. König shakes his head profusely.  

“No, that is not what I meant.” König tries to clear the situation up, but is drowned out by noise as Gaz and Soap laugh together. Laswell shoots you a knowing glance. You feel for her, being the only woman to watch these children.  

“You went with the dress I suggested.” Laswell notes, a proud smile gracing her lips. 

“I did.” You remark, blushing, “It's a bit tighter than what I’m used to.” You admit, sitting up straighter as a few from the table look back to you. 

“That's the point.” Laswell laughs, shooting you a quick wink. 

Before you can ask what she means by that, Ghost and Price return with two trays of shots. Half the shots are a golden, bronze color and the others are crystal clear. You raise an eyebrow as Ghost sits down beside you. 

“Get your bourbon?” You ask. 

“Had three down at the bar. You’ve got some catching up to do, yeah?” 

As everyone plucks shots from the trays, Ghost slides three in front of you with his knuckles. Two bourbons and one of the clear liquor. 

“What's this?” You ask, picking up the shot and holding it under your nose. It burns your nostrils, stealing the air from your lungs and replacing it with a sharp sting. 

“Patrón.” Ghost replies with a smirk. Your eyes follow as he grabs a clear shot from the tray with one hand, and pulls his mask up over his lips with the other. You’ve never seen his lips before. He brings the small glass to his lips, and you try to memorize the shape of his them, the jut of his jaw. It's gone in a flash as he downs the shot like it’s water before pulling his balaclava down over his chin. 

“Your turn.” He smirks, giant hand pushing the shot glass towards you. 

You follow suit, throwing your head back and letting the alcohol slide down your throat. You grimace at its strength, making a sour face. 

“Fuckin hell.” You cough. 

“You’ve got a bit of catching up to do.” Laswell points out, nodding down the table. You notice as Gaz takes the last shot from the first tray and your eyes boggle. 

— 

An hour later

Steady music thumps through the building. It feels slow, sensual. Maybe it’s because you’re wasted, but your confidence is through the roof as you make your way across the dance floor. Your eyes are locked onto your group, specifically searching for Ghost. The more alcohol that enters your system, the more you find yourself staring at him, noticing his every movement, every breath. You’d never allow yourself these thoughts while sober– the thought of wanting your Lieutenant is out of the question when your mind is clear, but right now it’s not. Your eyes search for him as you make your way back to the VIP section. 

“Lt?” You ask, sliding back onto the velvet sofa. 

“Went for a piss.” Soap exclaims.

“Why don’t you go meet him in the bathroom, maybe he could finally bend ya ov–” Johnny starts. 

“Soap!” Price cuts him off harshly. Soap only laughs, looking down the table to Gaz and the Captain. You look between the two of them, absolutely oblivious to the jokes that have been passed around the table all night.

“Oh, come on, Captain! He wants her and everyone knows it. We all see that shriveled up, cold, dead heart meltin’ at the sight of this bonnie.” Soap points to you. 

“Bloody hell, we bet on it!” Gaz chuckles, adjusting his cap.

“I must admit, I do see it.” König adds in. You squint down the table at him, and he immediately looks away. Price looks down at the boys like he’s schooling children. Your mouth falls open, taking in all the new information. 

“Remember that's your lieutenant you’re talking about. Leave his private life alone. You know how Simon is.” Price interjects, stopping the conversation before it gets out of hand. You blush fiercely, taken aback by their words. You don’t even think about what they’ve said, you can’t. Price looks to you apologetically. 

“What?” You ask, looking between them. “Ghost?” You double check, making sure that your hearing hasn’t totally left you. 

“He’s gone on you, mate.” Gaz adds, tone more serious than you would have expected.

“Christ, just pass me another drink.” You say, extending your hand out as König slides a shot down the table.

—

Thirty minutes later

You can feel his eyes on you. They’re burning through the thin fabric of your dress, where your breasts rest perfectly inside the silk, where the curve of your ass swells just above the hem of the dress. Your cheeks blush, whether from his eyes or the alcohol you’re not sure. Ghost doesn’t even try to hide his gaze, openly staring at you across the floor. His bourbon is held tightly in his hand as he watches you twirl on the dance floor between Soap and König. The lights aren't nearly as bright as your smile, and the night isn’t nearly as dark as the glint in your eyes. 

Ghost had watched men approach you on several occasions, and each time Soap shoved them away from you. You hadn’t given any of them the time of day. But Ghost? You’re taunting him, testing his self control to the point that he’s about to break. Every swing of your hips accompanies a purposeful glint in your eyes, a subtle bite of your lip. You’re teasing him, and he can’t take it. 

He deserves it. This is payback. He’s been apparently wanting you for months, and everyone in the damn Task Force knew about it but you. You’ve had enough of it. You extend your drink out for Soap to hold, accidentally bumping it against his chest and spilling a bit down his shirt. He takes the glass with furrowed eyebrows, looking down at your tipsy frame.

“Where ya headin’ to?” He yells over the music. 

“Have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back, j-just watch my drink.” You stumble over your words, eyes never leaving Ghost’s. Soap nods, taking your cocktail and continuing his conversation with König. 

Ghost inhales deeply from across the room, eyes fixated on the taunting little “come hither” motion of your finger. You turn away from him, making your way towards the VIP bathrooms. You walk slow enough that he can follow after you, not that you’re even capable of walking too fast, lest you lose your balance and fall over. You push past a few other people, your heart beating quickly as you go. The music is loud and the lights are low, which you’re grateful for. Hopefully no one notices Ghost trailing behind you. A warm buzz radiates in your chest, pulsing down your bones as the liquor you’ve been downing boosts your confidence and slows your movements. 

You push the door open, stepping into the dimly lit bathroom. It’s clean and orderly, perks of the VIP section. Immediately, you walk in front of the oval mirror, checking over your outfit and fixing your hair. You reapply a quick layer of red lipstick, tucking it back into your purse just as you hear the lock click. 

Before you can turn around, a solid warmth presses against your back. Ghost. The sink digs into your hip bones as he sandwiches you in, one hand pushing your hair over your shoulder. His skin on yours is more intoxicating than any drinks you've had tonight. He's never touched you, not like this. You giggle, tipsy as ever as he rolls his balaclava over his nose. 

"Ghost–" You whine, fingers clenching around the sink as he gently nips at the skin of your neck. He inhales your perfume, exhaling in a deep growl that rumbles through you. 

"Simon." He corrects, hands wrapping around your hips. For just a moment, you sober up. He wants you to use his real name? 

Your coherent thoughts fall away as he turns you around, hands nearly bruising your waist. He kisses you. It's sloppy and drunk, but it's everything. All the months of wondering, and hoping– he's kissing you. If you'd known it would only take a few rounds of drinks for the courage, you would have gotten drunk with him earlier. Painted fingernails dig into his shoulders as you lean up for more. His tongue delves into your mouth, and you whine. He tastes like his favorite bourbon, smells like expensive cologne– his signature scent that you could recognize anywhere. Eventually, you pull away for the oxygen that he's so easily stolen from you. 

"Everyone said…" You take a deep breath, glassy eyes flicking from his scarred lips and chin up to his eyes. He waits for a response, but sees hesitation.

"Hmmm, what did they say, love?" 

"They said you wanted me." 

"How couldn't I?" Ghost growls. 

You yelp as he grabs underneath your thighs and lifts you up onto the sink. His hands are massive, maneuvering you as if he was trained to do so. Your legs wrap around his waist, grinding against the pressure in his jeans.

"Fuckin hell, I've wanted you since you first joined the Task Force." Ghost growls in between kisses and bites to your pulsepoint.

You think back to all that time ago. It seems like ages since you met the cool headed, brooding, terrifying Simon "Ghost" Riley. You remember thinking how easily he could break you. Now?– Oh, how you want him to. 

Hearing him say it out loud sends a wave of need straight to your core. Your hands shoot for his black leather belt, but he shakes his head, stopping you before you can unclasp it.

"Not here, love." He shakes his head, gripping your chin to press one slow, sweet kiss to your plump lips. Your eyes slip shut, and you pout as he pulls away from you and slides his balaclava back down over his chin. Disappointment pools over you as you search for an explanation.

"Flat's not far." Is all he says before he grabs your wrist and pulls you off the sink. He unlocks the bathroom door and begins pulling you back towards the crowd. "Here. Order us an Uber, yeah?" Simon asks you, slipping his phone into your free hand. 

It's too much for your drunken mind to take in as he leads you through the crowd of people. Colored lights strobe, making it hard for you to make out faces, but eventually you spot your group across the club. Soap is still holding your drink, but now he's looking around. Price and Laswell are with him, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Remembering your task, you look down to Ghost’s phone. It's already opened up to the app, but messages are coming in and you can't swipe them away quick enough. The light bothers your eyes, and you attempt to read the messages as they flutter across the blurry screen.

Cpt. Price:

-Is y/n with you at the table? We seem to have lost her. Very worried.

You swipe the message away, and quickly order an Uber to Ghost’s saved home address. It's difficult, and you have to squint to make out all the swirling numbers and bright lights. But eventually, even in your state, you manage to get a confirmation code and receipt. An unsaved number pops up, more than one notification at a time lighting up the screen:

-LT, where'd you end up?

-Y/n asked me to hold her drink, disappeared on me. 

-OH SHIT

-LT!

-YOU HOUND!

-HAHA! Getting a pump, eh, LT? No worries, lad. I'll tell the Cap what's going on.

Several erotic emojis pop up on the screen and you blush fiercely.  Then you giggle. Soap, of course. You shake your head to rid yourself of the idea. The last thing you want is for Soap to blab about this. 

Simon pulls you through the exit and into the cold night. The breeze causes a shiver to run up your spine, and your dress helps none. As he leads you towards the road, you check the address once more and slip Simon’s phone back into his blazer pocket. 

"I d-didn't know you lived in Manchester." You whisper as he leads you out into the cold night. 

"Manny, born and raised.” You can hear Ghost huff through his mask, as if something humors him, “But no one knows where I live." He mutters, leading you down towards the busy street. 

No one except for you.

Cars pass by, and scantily clad men and women rush down the sidewalks searching for the same pleasure that you’re seeking. You bite your lip, feeling a bit nervous now that this is actually happening. Simon squeezes your hand. 

A steady trickle of rain begins to sprinkle down from the dark night sky, and goosebumps trail down your bare arms and legs. As soon as you tense, Simon is pulling his blazer off. 

“Simon, that's not necessary, really–” You begin to protest, but he is already wrapping the expensive jacket around your shoulders. 

“Hush.” He warns, and you obey. It's instinct. He’s your lieutenant after all.

You can see the tug of a smirk under his mask, blonde eyelashes fluttering as his brown orbs flick down over your body. You frown lightly, feeling bad that he’s given up his jacket for your sake. 

“Don’t worry, love. I'll be taking it all off soon, yeah?”

The alcohol buzzing through your system, making everything fuzzy, only intensifies the burning desire in between your legs. You don’t know how much longer you can wait. If you had it your way, he would have already taken you, bent you over the sink and had his way. The thought alone causes butterflies to fall in your stomach. Cold fingers wrap around Simon’s phone, still resting in the coat you’re now wearing. His recent notifications are all from Soap, and you scroll through them until a new one pops up on the screen.

“Car’s here.” You whisper, half lidded eyes searching until you find the sleek, black Volvo as it pulls against the curb. He takes your hand again, pulling you towards the car. 

“Simon, how long is this ride gonna be? I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” You admit, wanting nothing more than to tear your damn dress to shreds and throw yourself at the man beside you. He only huffs, showing a self restraint that you could only dream of. 

“Patience.” Is all he says as he opens the car door for you. You step inside the nice car, scooting towards the other side to make room for Simon to sit in the back with you. You see the momentary panic in the driver’s eyes as a 6’4 masked man climbs into his backseat, but Simon only places his hand on your thigh and politely confirms the details with the man. 

Simon grips your thigh, the large pads of his fingers leaving imprints on your soft flesh. You shake your ankle, distracting yourself from the desire growing in your abdomen.

“Drive fast, yeah?” Simon mumbles, sliding twenty quid to the driver.

—

The door lock clicks. Simon checks it twice. 

His hands are on you in an instant, picking you up by your thighs and pushing you up against the wall. He didn’t turn the lights on, and your eyes struggle to adjust to the dark as Simon’s lips run over your jaw in sloppy kisses. You moan, hands wrapping around his neck and resting on the back of his balaclava. 

“Simon, please–” You whine, throwing your head back as he nips your earlobe. 

“Just a second, darling.” Ghost growls, holding you against him. He carries you through the dark flat, maneuvering drunkenly down an even darker hall. He approaches a door, and kicks it open like a human battering ram. You’re slowing him down, your lips pressing against him everywhere that they can reach, leaving love bites that he’ll still have in the morning. You kick your heels off before he even sets you down, your hands tearing off the blazer from your limbs. It hits the ground, Simon’s phone buzzing silently in the pocket. He’ll find several missed calls from the boys in the morning. You don’t even want to think about the notifications your phone is receiving. Luckily, you dropped your purse as soon as you entered the front door, so it can be a problem for tomorrow. 

Simon gently tosses you down on his king sized bed, and you fall onto the plush black blankets. They’re warm and soft and they smell like him. It’s all too intoxicating. You lean forward and unclasp Simon’s belt buckle as quickly as your intoxicated hands can manage as he pulls his shirt over his head, not bothering to unbutton it. You’re taken aback as you notice a sizable scar on his ribs. It's a messy, deep, pink scar that indents into his otherwise pale skin. Your eyebrows wrinkle, fingertips brushing near the flesh before he snatches your hand away, squeezing it too tight to the point that it hurts.

“Don’t.” Is all he says. It’s a warning, and you blush a deep crimson out of embarrassment. 

“Sorry.” You mutter, quietly. Simon brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles. 

Ghost leans forward, hand gripping the side of your neck as he kisses you again. His balaclava tickles your nose as you deepen the kiss, leaning more into him. Any embarrassment or awkwardness from your last interaction falls away as he pushes his jeans down over his legs, lips still interlocked with yours. Simon steps out of his jeans and boxers, and your jaw falls slack. 

“Simon–” You stutter, eyes fixated on the length between his legs. Your eyes flick back up to his face, seeing the proud smirk he wears, even through the mask.. He simply won’t fit. It’s just not possible– He’s too big.

“I can’t-” You shake your head.

“I’ll be gentle, love.” He reassures, climbing overtop of you on the bed. Nervously, you nod. You trust him. Big hands grab you by the waist and flip you onto your stomach. You whine, clutching the sheets below you. He shushes you, and you gasp as golden beads and zipper teeth fly across the room, bouncing off of the floor and the glass window overlooking the city. A loud tear rings out as Ghost shreds your dress from the seams.

“Fuck, Simon! That was expensive!” You yelp as he pulls the ruined fabric from your body, discarding it on the floor. Laswell’s gonna kill you.

“I’ll  buy you a new one.” He growls, warm hand running down your bare back. His finger loops under the black lace thong you’re wearing. Simon smirks, “All for me?” He asks, releasing the lace so it smacks back down onto your skin. 

“Yes– all for you, only you, Simon.” You mumble, pushing your ass back up in hopes that he’ll touch you.

“That’s my girl.” 

You moan at his words, hands moving to your hips to shove the lace down off your legs, but he brushes your hands away, stopping you.

“Leave it on.” Simon rumbles at your back. You nod your head against the pillow, bringing your hands to rest under your head. Ghost pulls your thong string to the side, letting it rest just out of the way.

“Fuckin ‘ell, love.” Simon takes a breath, trying to keep the control that you’re so close to snapping as his fingers trail over your dripping folds. 

“Fuck, Simon. Stop teasing.” You beg, hips pushing back against his hand. He chuckles, dipping two fingers into your throbbing cunt. 

“O-Oh!” You whine, gripping the sheets as he hooks his thick fingers, hitting every sweet spot inside of you. Simon kisses your back, nudging your legs with his less busy hand so that they’re folded under your stomach and spread apart. He positions you low enough that your stomach touches the bed. He curls his fingers, scissoring them occasionally as you throb and whine for him. He groans at the noises you make, working you open until you’re ready. 

“Perfect.” He grumbles, sliding his fingers out of you. You whine in confusion until you feel the tip of his length teasing at your entrance. 

“Ready, love?” Ghost asks. You moan, biting your lip and nodding your head. 

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes. Im ready, just– please Simon, fuck!” You stutter. 

Simon slowly pushes in, and you gasp for air as he parts you like the fucking red sea. It hurts a little, and your nose wrinkles as you exhale. Simon notices the hitch in your breath, carefully examining your reaction to make sure you’re comfortable. It only takes a few moments for you to acclimate, and then he feels incredible. His size stretches you, reaching depths you didn't think possible. He hits every sweet spot as he spears into you. 

Simon’s chest presses against your back as he pushes into you. His scarred lips lock onto your neck, biting you as he fucks you from behind. He grips the headboard to steady himself, nearly leaving indents in the wood as he thrusts.

It's rough, drunk and sloppy as he drills into you. He starts out at a slow and steady pace, grinding into you rhythmically so as to not hurt you. Your exhales become sharp huffs, swirling together with the puffs of air he exhales next to your ear. If only you could turn around and kiss him again. You crave his lips against yours, satisfying the craving you’ve been ignoring for so long. But you know Simon might not be ready for that level of intimacy yet. You’ve heard stories, connected the dots. 

All too soon, you find yourself teetering on the edge from his movements. You gasp and moan under him, whimpering out his name so loudly that you’re sure the entire building can hear. The headboard rocks against the wall with every thrust, loudly slamming and leaving dents in the drywall. Neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to even realize. 

Your neck is bruised from Simon’s lips, adding to the pleasure that’s pushing you over the edge. You fight it, but lose as pulsing heat tears through your core. Stars explode in your vision, eyes shut tight enough that they wrinkle. 

“F-uck, Simon!” You scream, nails digging into the sheets as your whole body trembles with the weight of your orgasm. Your walls squeeze Simon’s length in time with his thrusts, turning him into a groaning mess. 

“Bloody fuckin ‘ell." Simon groans, accent thicker than usual. His warm breath tickles your ear, and you gasp as he bottoms out, hitting your cervix. 

“You- You on the pill?” Simon manages to stutter out between deep grunts. He can’t risk pregnancy, can’t be a father. But you feel so fucking good and he can’t bring himself to unbury himself from your perfect, dripping cunt. 

“Got the patch– you’re good. Just fucking fill me up, please.” You beg, rocking your hips against him. He nearly curses at your words. You have a foul mouth in bed, something he wouldn’t have guessed. You whimper his name, and that’s all it takes. 

Simon grunts deep and guttural, and with one an iron grip on your hips, he fills you up with his spend. You moan, taking it all until you can’t, and it comes dripping out around him before he’s even finished. 

“That’s it, fffuck– y/n.” He grunts as the last of his seed spills out.

You press your forehead against the sheets, wincing as he pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed. A sheen of sweat lines both your bodies, but as much as you’d like a shower, you’re exhausted. A digital clock rests on the table beside Simon’s bed, and you sit up, squinting to look at it. 0300. Damn. 

You look back towards Simon. He’s half sitting up against the headboard, half laying down. You notice the thousand yard stare that he’s putting off, and you gently cup his chin, pulling his gaze towards you. 

“You okay?” You ask, rolling up his balaclava with your dainty fingers. You uncover the subtle smile on his lips. You smile in retur, half lidded eyes focusing on the shape of his lips. Your thumb traces over them gently.

“Better now.” He whispers. You press a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet before pulling away. 

“Get some sleep, love.” He says, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice. Much to his surprise, you tuck yourself into the crook of his side, wrapping your arms around his torso. Sleep overcomes you almost immediately. He’s too warm, too perfect. It’d be impossible for you to stay awake next to the comforting, human heater that he is. 

Simon hesitates. It’s been a long time since anyone has been this close to him. The bourbon gave him confidence enough to bring you home, but this is a very new territory, and not even the alcohol can guide him through this one. Sex is one thing, but intimacy? Emotional vulnerability? Simon burned those handbooks long ago.

“Love?” He asks, awkwardly looking to see if you’re awake. You don’t respond, asleep he confirms. Simon’s not sure what to do. He doesn’t want to move you. Are you comfortable? Is he too close? Too warm? 

He sighs, looking down at your arms tightly wound around him. No one’s shown him this type of affection, not ever. He’s not sure how to reciprocate it, but he wants to. One day at a time. Simon pulls the blanket up over your waist, checking twice to make sure that it's covering you. Carefully, he places a hand over your back, feeling your soft skin against his. 

He doesn’t sleep at all, opting to stay awake and watch the small rise and fall of your back on his lap. He doesn’t deserve you, he's sure. But you’re here, and that’s something.

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Play Time!

HHJ

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact.

wc: 3.8k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: barista!hyunjin x cam girl!reader, smut, explicit sexual content, masturbation (m, f), he's a little obsessed, easing into the smuttier smut if that's even a thing.

Live : Play Time!

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Heat Signature

☆ﾟ

Rule number one; everybody is temporary.

There is no love in this industry, no trust, no friends, only coworkers that all want the same thing. Sometimes you work with them more than once, other times– most times, it’s a one-and-done deal.

They never want to stay anyways, you learned that lesson the hard way. It’s why you set up such a tough wall to break through, there’s no point in befriending anyone on your side of the pond.

It’s scary, really, how quickly you can be moaning someone’s name, kissing them like you need them to breathe, touching and feeling them as intimately as someone who truly was in love. Then as soon as the livestream ends, you can’t remember what their lips feel like and everything smells like latex and sweat. You offer them some water, snacks, a shower. They usually decline. Minutes later, your front door is shutting and you’re alone once again.

No one ever intends on getting into porn, you don’t even remember the details on how you ended up here. Your follower count had risen overnight and before you knew it, that one video had gotten you more money in a week than a month’s worth of minimum wage ever did. The humiliation was nonexistent considering you hadn’t even posted yourself naked that first time, if anything you were excited to post again. Who knew a video of you just sitting in a chair, playing with yourself under your skirt with your knees pressed closed would take off so rapidly. That thirty second video changed your life.

– fuck, who is this?? are they new??

– thats so hot. face reveal?

– show us your tits

– god i wanna fuck u so bad

– suck my dick pls

Those comments didn’t bother you, it was a little flattering if you were being honest with yourself. People wanted you, they don’t even know your real name, have never seen your face or what you look like in the sunlight. They don’t know you and yet, you’re everything to them, so much so that they pay you for your time, and body. They fill your wallet just for you to read their comment out loud, attention whores for you. And you love it. For some reason, their praise is much more fulfilling than anyone you've guested on your livestreams.

Recently, though, you’ve stopped bringing people on, not much to your viewer’s disapproval. There was more interaction and less vulgarity, like they wanted you to actually speak to them rather than just stuff your pussy with whatever new dildo you’d been gifted in your PO box.

You hadn’t planned on having such a personal stream today, you honestly just wanted the relief and thought your viewers would have a good time. But for some reason, the comments were less about getting you to take your clothes off and more about why your voice was shaking.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. Really!” Even you could hear the subtle octave change. “If you wanted me to cry, you could’ve just said please. You know I’ll do anything for you.” 

Perhaps the forced sultriness of your voice worked its charm, the comments quickly switched back to their normal obscenities once you started to unbutton your top. Truthfully, you preferred when they asked you to get naked, it was a lot easier to do than to admit what it was you were really lacking. Honest companionship is the rarest thing.

Rule number two: no identifying features.

Even if you weren’t ashamed, your job is still taboo. No one and everyone knew what it was you did. Your best friend helped you pick lingerie and background mood lighting, your parents thought you were an office worker. Strangers have seen your most private parts, you only allow your grandma to give you a kiss on the cheek during Christmas. Safe to say your occupation was strictly need-to-know.

You’re glad you started live streaming before deciding to get any tattoos, running the risk of someone stopping you in the middle of the street was the most terrifying thing you could imagine happening. Naturally, you avoided getting anything at all once your streams started to really take off.

There was nothing you wore to accessorize unless a patron paid for it in advance, that was always done a week before streams and the contact with the patron was never more than a simple google form and an email from your business account to confirm. Other than that, you were a blank canvas, just a body with a voice that left more to the imagination than you would think. If your viewers were happy, you were happy.

“What do you think of my new nail color? A special someone picked it out for me,” you held out your hands to display the pretty shine, twiddling your fingers. The comments went crazy, “no, no, not anyone like that, c’mon! You know you’re my number one. But I think you should all give lovely user callingherdaddy a thank you for picking it out. Thank you, sir.”

You took the polish off the next morning.

Rule number three: be consistent.

Nothing kills a steady income more than ghosting the ones that put the money in your pocket. You stuck to a strict schedule of three streams every week and frequent posts on your socials. The stuff you posted on your social media wasn’t even related to your work on camming, but it doesn’t hurt when they leave a couple nice comments. 

With a schedule and job like yours, you need a little bit of normalcy. Self employed, you don’t have a real routine when you aren’t streaming. It was starting to make you feel lazy, a bit lethargic, and overall unmotivated.

It wasn’t until recently did you decide to start doing normal people things, like waking up at 7 a.m., doing a mini work out, grocery shopping in the morning, even getting yourself a coffee from the shop near your house as a treat. Doing this was nice, you felt good, your head was clearer. Hell, you even got excited when it came time to do your cams because you felt so full of energy.

You had only been to the coffee shop once or twice before, but to get yourself to keep the routine, you told yourself you’d go every day for the next two weeks. Afterall, it only takes 21 days to form a habit.

It was packed, as usual for a morning weekday. There were only about six baristas working, all scurrying about the bar to get through the morning rush. You liked watching them, mindlessly completing drinks in such a way that made you a little jealous. Most of them seemed your age, obviously you knew that they couldn’t have all had perfect lives, but at least this part of their day was something they could openly complain about.

Were you really jealous? Of normal people? You had to be insane.

Shaking your head, you walked further into the shop and waited in line. You thought nothing of it, placing your order, “iced chai with three blonde shots, please,” and handed the barista the card, “thank you.”

You barely looked up at him, only when he held onto your card a little longer as you tried to take it back did you make eye contact. A little awkward, the barista was staring at you with wide eyes. He was handsome, too handsome to be working behind the counter. Long black hair framed his face nicely, pretty plump lips, and an endearing little mole under his eye that made his siren stare only slightly less intimidating. Yeah, handsome.

He didn’t look away even after he let you take your card back.

“S– sorry. You look like–”

“It’s okay. Thanks again.” You hurried away as fast as you could. He couldn’t have known who you were, right? Not a chance, you have never shown your face. You were wearing too many clothes for any particular body part to be recognizable. It’s just a coincidence.

Either way, the minor interaction with the barista scared you into hiding again, forgetting going out for anything else you had planned and deciding to hole away at home.

You had a livestream to do later anyways, focus on that. There were a few hours left for you to kill before turning on the camera, now would be as good a time as any to set up.

It wasn’t much that you did, mostly just thinking of what it was you thought viewers would like to see for the day. An hour before the scheduled stream, you set up a waiting room on the website that hinted at what the day’s theme would be. Today you thought you’d go a little easy on the eyes; “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: play time! <3”

A typical stream would start off soft, greeting viewers like any other meeting. You’d ask how their day was, if there was anything in particular they wanted to do or talk about, some answered genuinely while others urged you to strip. You liked the ones that asked you how your day was, too, and enjoyed sharing your thoughts with them. Though, it was no secret what everyone was here for, even if sometimes– just sometimes, you liked what came before taking off your clothes more than anything.

“I have a few things in mind for play time today, I’d like to hear what you guys think. Would you prefer this,” in your hand, you held up your favorite vibrator, big and baby pink. “Or this?” in the other, a new grinder that resembled the shape of a tentacle with the sucker-side up.

Comment section didn’t slow down as soon as you showed the second toy. “I thought you might like this one. I got it just for you! I’m excited to try it out with you.”

– im so fucking hard

– i wanna see ur pussy

– thats so nice, ur sweet

“Slow down! Haha, we’re gonna take our time,” you laughed away the weird feeling in your chest as you read the fleeing comments. “You’re so impatient today, lovely. Did you have a hard day? I know I did,” you slowly peeled down the blouse you wore, letting it hang off your shoulders to expose your bare shoulders. It seemed redundant to wear a bra, but you kept the shirt covering your breasts for dramatic effect, hard nipples peaking through.

“I just wanna take it a little more… gentler, if that’s alright.” The camera was angled to cut off at your neck to avoid showing your face, but you bit your lip anyways as you held up the grinder. “It’s a little out of my comfort zone, honestly. I’ve never told you about this fantasy before.” You ran your finger down the rubber center, feeling the many little suction cups bend.

You giggled as you came to the swirled tip of the tentacle, playing with the way it curled and how pliable it was. “When I ordered this, they let me choose the color. I think pink suits me, don’t you? But I also thought, maybe blue? Or black… but then it would be too hard for you to see, right?”

As you spoke, you laid the grinder between your legs but not quite touching it. With two fingers, you stroked it the same way you would your own pussy. Your other free hand was doing just that right behind the toy and beneath the length of your shirt, feeling your wetness building up with your hand down your panties. “Oh my, just talking to you– my underwear is soaked!” The giggle that left your lips was genuine, you didn’t expect to work yourself up so quickly.

You stole your fingers from your cunt and showed it to the camera, spreading them to let your viewers see the slick coating shine in the soft lighting. “Heh, told ya I was excited. You make me like this.”

When you started to really get going it was hard to pay attention to the comments, you tended to get a little lost until you finally came. Like now, you brought the toy closer to your core, lightly lifting yourself to sit on it. As soon as you did, you let out a whimper.

Hyunjin had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He doesn’t even know why, he couldn’t have been sure of anything.

Except he was. He was 100% sure, plus another 10% for good measure. He hadn’t even known about the site for long, you were just his favorite. He’d found hardcandysweetheart and never bothered to look anywhere else.

You were just another customer at first, a pretty one that caught his attention. He noticed you in line and had every intention of flirting and possibly asking for you to sign up for the rewards program with them just so he could use that as an excuse to get your number. Then you spoke.

All you fucking did was speak. “Please,” and “thank you,” and Hyunjin fucking crumbled.

Jesus, he must have looked like an idiot. He knows he did, but he was star struck. Fanboying, red in the face with embarrassment, about to fold at the knees, and hard as a fucking rock all at the same time. He had to excuse himself to the restroom as soon as you left just to get his boner to go away.

If it really was you– and he hoped to god it wasn’t– he’ll never forget such a pretty face.

Which is why he turned on notifications for your stream. He knew your schedule by heart but he needed to be sure that it was your voice he heard. As soon as he got home from his shift, clothes came off and he was sat in bed with his laptop nearby, just waiting for the ping notification from you.

God, it was you. As soon as he heard you through his headphones, it confirmed what he already knew.

What a kind voice, supple, soft, he could listen to you for hours– he has listened to you for hours. Sometimes he wished you could do live streams of just you talking, you never even had to take your clothes off. Now that he knew what you looked like, Hyunjin’s heartbeat faster than it ever did when you made conversation.

It was the way you did, as though you were speaking to him and only him. The image he created of you in his head looked like it was thought up by a child in comparison to seeing you in real life. He could put a face to the voice now, he wasn’t even thinking about your body. Just your voice.

“You make me like this,” you said in almost a whisper, tone cracking just a little the more you sat on the toy.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but palm at himself, not entirely stroking but moving at the same pace. This was a team effort, in his mind. You made him crazy, as he did to you. That was his fantasy. You always spoke with so much love in your voice, as though you truly cared for him and it got him harder than any other kind of porn ever could.

Was that really all it took? Was he that pathetic? Someone who didn’t even know who he was, talking to an ocean of people that all saw the same thing he did, and suddenly it’s the only thing that can make him cum.

He can’t even complain now, he’s seen you. That’s enough spank bank to last him a lifetime if you ever suddenly decided to stop camming. Shit– he hopes he didn’t just manifest that into existence.

The white button up top draped in front of your cunt to hide away from view. That’s alright, you said you were taking it slow today. Your hips slowly pushed forward and back, hands gripping tightly at the armrests of your uncomfortable looking desk chair. Hyunjin thought it was kind of cute how you would still cam in the same seat as you did when he found your first video. 

His laptop on his abdomen concealed the view of his cock leaking, but the way you were sat on screen, he could envision it was him you were sitting on instead. That’s exactly what he imagined as you rocked faster into the toy, lifting your shirt and balling it in your fist to show that your wetness had spread to the front of your panties. Hyunjin didn’t even mind that the bold pink tentacle blocking a bit of the view, you were getting so into it that he hardly noticed anymore.

Hyunjin fumbled to find his dick, slowly beginning to squeeze the head as you turned to shorter and quicker ruts towards the front of the toy where the tentacle curled up. You moaned loudly, making him do so as well in return. “Fuck, I ruined this pair, didn’t I?”

Your cute laugh had Hyunjin breaking out into a smirk, “that’s okay,” he whispered to no one but himself.

“I should take it off but,” you rolled your hips again with a whine, “I kinda want you to work for it.”

The tips in the corner of the page were pinging like crazy as soon as you said that. He himself tapped the button rapidly and paid no mind to how his account balance shot down.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy. It’s just one little word that I wanna hear. I’ll say it first, if that makes you feel better.” The speed of your hips picked up a little, in turn Hyunjin let his fist slowly work up and down, no faster than you, of course.

“Please. Please, is the word I’m looking for, lovely. Say it, just once.”

Fuck, he couldn’t help speeding up just a little. He loved the way you said it, even more the way you commanded him to say it as well. “Please,” the whimper came out breathy and uneven as the precum lubricated his cock more.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Hyunjin shook his head, no. 

“No, it wasn’t. Look what happens when you ask nicely,” you stood from your seat just to pull off the flimsy fabric, sitting fully back down on the toy and holding up the soaked pair with another chuckle. “You get nice things.”

Hyunjin could hear how wet you really were now, every lewd sound that came from you rubbing yourself back and forth on the grinder. You still didn’t let him– them– see you fully. He wasn’t even sure if you’d expose yourself at all this stream. Still, his fist picked up speed as you did, taking in every grunt you let out when you’d hit a particularly good spot. Hyunjin kept his eyes on you the whole time, memorizing the way you moved, what angle made you tick.

“C’mon lovely, I know you can do better than that.”

You were referring to the tip counter, but Hyunjin took it as he can do better than that. His other hand reached around the laptop, down to cup his balls as he worked his cock faster, occasionally running his fingers over the head for a break in stimulation. Somehow he managed to stop touching himself for a split second to rapid fire extra tips when they slowed down.

“Oh, someone wants a little extra attention today. What do I call you, lovely?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure if you were speaking to him, though he hoped and typed a nickname anyways. “Baby? That’s cute. Thank you, baby, you’re so sweet.”

His hand instantly returned to his dick, not caring about the speed anymore, instead wanting to cum to the sound of your voice. He quickly tapped the tip button a few more times and you giggled, “baby, you’re spoiling me. Here, since you’re being so nice,” you lifted the hem of your shirt to put your bare cunt on display, seemingly tucking the end of it into your mouth.

Hyunjin could see it so clearly, your pretty lips drooling onto the fabric, biting it to contain the moans that wanted to slip past. Fuck, he was going insane, wet, slick noises from his animalistic fisting on his cock almost surpassing the volume of your voice in his headphones. 

He just watched now, listened intently to how good you were making yourself feel and it made his body light a fire. You were clearly getting closer as well, forgetting the dirty talk and humping away at the toy with little to no regard for who was watching. Hyunjin loved this side of you the most, when you couldn’t think of anything other than the impending pleasure. He could imagine your eyes rolling back, the furrow in your brow and beads of sweat dripping down your temples as you came nearer to falling over the edge. Your hands moved to grip the edge of the seat, aiding in pushing your body forward and back harder against the grinder and Hyunjin was jerking himself with a hotter fervor. Your muffled cries echoed in his head– he was making you feel like this, he was the one you were using to please yourself, he was the one you thought of as you came all over his cock.

Hyunjin suddenly held his breath and let his release take over his body, squeezing and pumping the tip of his cock as he spurt his seed all over his stomach and back of his computer. By the time he’d come to, opened his eyes, and regained his breath, you were slumped back in your chair and panting heavily. He missed your grand finale, but that was okay with him, you came at the same time. Even in post nut clarity, he wanted to hear your voice. More than that, he wanted to hold you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you until you were breathless all over again.

Hyunjin’s shaky hand found the tip button again and tapped.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiled.

You groaned and found the strength to steal the toy from your aching cunt, holding it up for the camera to see it glistening with your essence. Laughing, “this was fun, wasn’t it? I enjoyed myself, I might have to buy more of these.” You tossed it onto the desk and suddenly seemed shy, tugging your shirt as far down as you could without exposing more skin. “Until next time, lovely. I’ll miss you.” You waved your dainty fingers at the camera, doing your signature sign off, and the screen went black.

Hyunjin’s head fell back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling trying to understand all the emotions he just rushed through. 

He couldn’t compute them even if he tried. All he knew was that he was excited to go to work tomorrow morning, hoping that whatever god heard his plea, begging that you’ll come in.

When he went to shut his laptop, his fingers smeared the warm mess that was slowly dripping. “Fuck— ew,” and he hurried to clean up, alone once again.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[roosterr]

i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on." 

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move. 

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed. 

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera. 

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod. 

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches  over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud,  leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap." 

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

[jwnzlvr]

bitch

pairing(s) : street racer!nishimura riki x street racer fem!reader

summary : where you race against some guy you met that night… and win. surely he’d be a good sport about it, right? nope.

wc : 1.5k

warnings : smut (mdni), dubcon/noncon elements, degradation, riki just being a total ass, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), spit, hint of sub!riki, not proofread at ALL, DO NOT LIKE, DO NOT READ !!!

notes : you guys, thank you so fucking much for being so patient with me. i did wanna let y’all know that i recently started a new job, an office job. which means shit is SERIOUS around here i kinda had to lock in. besides that, a family member of mine had a surgery recently and i’ve also been busy caring for them. so to everyone who waited for this fic, i appreciate u and i hope you love it <3 pls enjoy!!

“im starting to think you wanted to lose to me…” you snorted at riki who was currently in between your legs. riki turned red. maybe from embarrassment or from anger. he couldn’t tell. when you said that he lost, he was reminded of the prior events that same night. how he challenged you to a race, a race he was so confident in. yet here you come and absolutely crush him. the odds?

riki would do anything and everything you asked him to do.

it really did piss him off that you were allowed to boss him around. he didn’t like anyone controlling him, much less the person who absolutely beat his ass. but he’s also glad that your bossing around landed him in this position: the both of you on riki’s bed, your legs spread while he was in between of them. you didn’t even know how it got this far. all you knew was that you wouldn’t regret it.

“i didn’t want to lose…” riki mumbled from between your legs. you chuckled as you grabbed his hair and tugged on it, inciting a wince from him. “did i say you could speak? shut the fuck up. just do what you were told…” you sighed as you brought him closer to your core.

riki took this as a sign to test the waters. he brought his tongue out, slowly dragging it over your throbbing clit. you gave a small sound, indicating to riki that it was okay to keep going. his tongue pressed a bit hard against you, his straight, long licks becoming small circles on your clit.

you let out small sighs and whimpers. you felt yourself sinking into the pleasure that riki was giving you. “yeah… so good…” you whimpered as you somehow managed to press him even closer against you. he only hummed as his tongue began to trace down to your hole.

a sharp gasp left you when you felt riki’s tongue slither into you. “ha…” you breathed out, although it sounded more like a moan. your sounds spurred riki on, it let him know he was doing a good job at eating your pussy. he let his tongue glide over you in lazy yet controlled movements. it was enough to have you gripping his hair a little tighter.

the small grunt riki let out went straight to your core. you felt your thighs shaking, almost closing on riki’s head. “yeah… make me cum… gonna cum all over that pretty face…” you whined as you looked down at riki. his sharp eyes looked into yours. he was fully concentrated on making you cum on his mouth.

the hard circle he traces around your clit is what makes you come undone, your loud moans filling the room. riki kept going as you came, helping you ride your high. what you weren’t expecting was the revenge he was about to take.

you began to feel overstimulated at some point. you tried to tell riki but it felt like he wasn’t listening. “riki, i said get the fuck off-“ his arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you in closer cut you off. his tongue only got more aggressive against you. it made you cry out for him to stop. you felt his chuckle against you.

“did you think you were gonna get away with treating me like your bitch? i think you don’t realize who’s actually in control here…” he mumbled against your pussy as he sloppily ate it. you gripped onto his hair harder, trying to push him away, but he was much stronger than you. your loud, overstimulated cries filled riki’s ears. they gave him a sick satisfaction.

he knew the pain had begun to morph into pleasure as you began to shake in his hold again. “close already…? you just love to cum, don’t you? you slut.” he said against your core before leaned his head up. nothing could’ve prepared you for the way he spat on your pussy, only to dive back down and eat you like a man starved.

that was enough to make you cum once again. but it was a bit different this time. you almost screamed as you squirted all over riki’s face and sheets. he let out a groan at how your cum was all over his face. “yeah, good girl… cumming all over my face.”

you panted hard, your eyes squeezed shut as you leaned back on riki’s bed. you were too out of it to feel the way riki sat up from his position and began to get his cock ready to slip inside of you. he stroked his cock lazily, taking in your sight. just imagining being inside your pussy made him squeeze the base of his cock and throw his head back. he couldn’t hold back anymore.

he took advantage of your vulnerable state and brought your legs up against your chest, soliciting a confused yelp from you. “wait- what the hell?” you looked up at him with nervous eyes. he stared right back into them, evil reflecting off of his. “what? you thought that was your only punishment…? no.”

he paused as he guided his tip to your hole and slid in. you let out a loud whimper at his size, gripping onto the sheets for some support. riki let out a satisfied groan as he smirked while looking at you. “you’re gonna learn tonight that’s you’re my bitch. understand?” his voice was low and rough as he buried the rest of his cock against you. you nodded quickly as you felt his hips flush against yours. fuck, he was massive.

it seemed like riki wasn’t satisfied with your response though. he moved his hips back slightly before roughly slamming back into you. you cried out as he grabbed onto your jaw. “words, bitch.” he growled. you felt something dark stir in you as he called you a bitch. again, you gave him multiple nods. but this time you spoke.

“i understand…” you spoke, a small tremble in your voice. riki didn’t have to say any words. the way his hips began to slam against yours was a good enough response. your mouth gaped open with each of his thrusts. it felt like riki had immediately found your spot. his thrusts were filled with anger. one would even think he hates you.

who’s to say he didn’t? you did just beat him in a race, on the first night of knowing him. he was pissed off.

“you better learn to never try and go against me again. see what happens to stupid girls who try to make me do what they want? they get fucked like a slut.” he spoke with venom dripping from his voice. “you ever gonna race me again? gonna try to boss me around?”

you shook your head, immediately saying ‘no.’ it was crazy to you how you just had him at your mercy a few minutes ago. and now, he has you at his. his hands on your thighs press harder, pushing them down a bit further. this helped riki reach a new angle in your pussy, making you cry out.

riki grinned maniacally at how you responded him. “good little bitch…” he laughed as he used his hand on your chin to go up to your cheeks. he forced your mouth open, only to spit in it. “swallow.” he commanded, his hips never faltering. you immediately did, your pussy leaking just from the idea of swallowing riki’s spit. you hoped it would be his cum next time.

with every thrust, you felt closer to the edge. small cries of his name were heard, your eyes getting teary. riki chuckled as he noticed you about to cum again. “you’re cumming again? am i making you feel that good? go ahead and cum, you’ve been so good…” he sighed through his thrusts. that’s all it took for you to scream his name and clench around his cock. your thighs shook against your chest and your pussy creamed around him.

“god… look at that pussy. so good… gonna dump my load in it. you want that?” he began to thrust hard again, ignoring your overstimulation. you nodded eagerly at his words. there was nothing you wanted more at the moment. that’s all it took for riki to let out a loud moan and shove his cock fully into you. his cum poured into your pussy, coating it white.

you whined at the warm feeling in you. you both caught your breaths, looking straight into each other’s eyes. your eyes held a bit of vulnerability and fear in them mixed with lust. riki’s only held the desire to ruin you. he smirked and chuckled as he spoke.

“so, you gonna try to race me again? that’s what i fucking thought…”

[ilovewrittingsmut]

Nanami as your work crush

Wc: 3406

Content: coworker nanami, I hate capitalism,co workers to lovers😩😩😩😩, FLUFF,confessing love, nanami being the best man on earth

A/n: pls don’t make it flop 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

Despite hating this job with every fiber of your being, you still find yourself waking up at 5 a.m., eager to get ready for work. Why? Because there's this one random blonde guy who makes your heart race more than it should, his mere presence glowing and shining like moonlight.

He often shows up in the most mundane clothes, his face lifeless, only smiling when he absolutely has to. Yet, on some mornings, he arrives with two coffees in hand—one for himself and one for you. You shamelessly admit to yourself that you enjoy this special treatment from him.

"I hate this job."

"Me too."

This is the usual exchange between the two of you, always ending with one of those faint smiles appearing on his handsome face, which inevitably does something to you.

"Actually, I don't hate it that much. There's still something good about this stupid work."

"Besides getting paid?" you ask jokingly, unsure of what he's trying to say.

"Hmm, yes?" He flashes that infuriatingly charming smile before walking away, returning to his work.

——————

During lunch breaks, you, he, and other coworkers usually head out to grab a meal at the coffee shop. You try not to read too much into it, but it seems that whenever you're in a group, he always makes an effort to sit next to you, walk beside you, and engage with you the most. It’s like fuel for the fire, making you fall for him more and more, beyond your control.

"You like pasta?"

"Yep, why?"

"You always order it."

"Yep, I love pasta."

"Me too. You know what, I can cook the best pasta ever."

"I don’t believe you."

"I can cook it for you… if you want."

The idea of eating something your crush has made for you sends a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"That’s an honor."

"How about tonight, at my place, if you don’t mind?"

Of course, you don’t mind at all, but the thought of being alone with your crush at his place tonight fills you with a nervous anticipation.

“That sounds great. “

“See you after work then.”

After that, your heart doesn't stop pounding against your ribs for even a second. You know you can’t focus on work now because your mind is too busy daydreaming about what might happen tonight, just you and him, alone, on a cute pasta date.

No, it’s not a date, you quickly remind yourself, trying to erase those fluffy thoughts and ground yourself in reality. You push through the rest of the day, working until 5. (with him as your only motivation)

——————

"Let's leave."

It’s only 4:30, and he's already texted you with this message. You hate yourself a little for thinking that he’s as eager for tonight as you are, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. Normally, you’d overwork yourself and stay late, but today, you choose to be kind to yourself and call it a day earlier than usual.

"Ok."

"Great, I’ll pick you up, and we can walk to the parking lot together."

"Ok."

There are countless words you want to scream out of excitement right now, but all your fingers can manage to type is "ok."

And within a minute, he's right behind you, and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, so scarlet, so bright. You can only hope he doesn’t notice.

"You’re red, are you sick?"

For god's sake, he never fails to make you flustered.

"I’m good," you reply with a smile and a forced giggle.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, let’s go," you say, your voice overly cheerful.

You try to keep everything seeming normal, as if you're not secretly dreaming about kissing his lips right at that moment.

—————

"Is it too cold?" he asks as you settle into his car.

"No… not at all, everything is perfectly fine."

God, you sound like Mickey Mouse right now, trying so hard to conceal your nerves that it comes off as unnatural.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

No, not at all…not really. The word "uncomfortable" isn't the right fit, it's more like "nervous." He makes you so nervous.

"No, I’m okay, really. Please stop worrying."

"How can I not worry about you?" he murmurs, his voice soft as he throws his arm behind your seat to back up the car. You catch a glimpse of those veins, and WOW who could blame you for daydreaming about this big, gorgeous man?

"Why? What is it about me that makes you so worried?"

"You’re always so hard on yourself, working too much and doing OT almost every day," he says, and you’re genuinely flattered by his concern. Little does he know, the reason you stay late is just to spend more time in the workplace with him, the hardworking man who makes the long hours bearable. And yes, he's also right, you’re always so tough on yourself, trying to prove that you're good enough to be here, to be working there.

"You’re always overworking yourself too, Nanami," you reply, and little do you know that he does it for the same reason. He loves to watch you from afar while you’re absorbed in your work. He cherishes the midnight coffees with you, making even the harshest nights feel like a dream.

“I guess it would be best for us if we stopped overworking and had more homemade dinners like this,” he suggests. Is he asking you out?

“Sure.”

“I hate seeing you drink five cups of coffee a day instead of having a proper meal. I can cook a lot, and I’m really good at it.”

“Are you talking a big game?” you tease him, his words always find the way to make you genuinely laugh.

“I can cook for you every day. You deserve to eat something good for your health and taste.”Now, your stomach is doing the thing,not the rumbling with hunger, but tickled with overwhelming butterflies. You feel like you might burst if you don’t get a handle on it soon.

“That’s really sweet. Thank you, Nanami.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Kento.”

He’s older than you, and you hold a deep respect and admiration for him. Using just his name feels like it brings an intimacy you’re not sure you can handle, and you’re terrified that you might not be able to keep your feelings in check any longer.

"No, I can't."

"Yes, you can."

You try to resist, knowing you might actually die from blushing too hard.

"I prefer you to call me by my name.” “Kento Or Ken, your choice."

Your entire insides feel like they're about to explode. Why does he have to be so cute? You want to be the one who gets to call him "Ken," such an adorable name. And "Baby" or "Honey" would sound amazing on him too. You long to be the only one who gets the chance to call him those sweet names.

"Kento…" you whisper, so softly that you can barely hear your own voice. The only thing echoing in your ears is the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"That’s... I like that. It sounds great coming from you." Is he trying to kill you or something? You might actually get a heart attack if he keeps being this cute.

—————-

As you arrive at his house, you're greeted by a beautiful garden filled with flowers. The sight is so sweet, making you smile as you take it all in.

When you step inside, you immediately sense warmth and comfort. His home is impeccably organized and tidy, what an ideal man.

"Make yourself at home," he says, guiding you to the living room. You sit on the couch as he turns on the television for you. Then, he heads to the nearby kitchen and begins preparing the ingredients for your dinner. The whole scene feels surreal, like you’ve stepped into a dream where everything is just perfect.

"I can help," you say, getting up from the couch and following him into the kitchen.

"Let me, please. You have just one job is to sit, wait, and enjoy our dinner."

That's probably the hottest thing a man could say, and you can't help but feel greedy, wanting him all to yourself. The thought of anyone else having him makes you irrationally jealous. You can only hope that everything he’s doing is because he likes you too, at least half as much as you're falling for him.

"Can I watch?"

"You can," he replies with a smile.

You giggle a bit as he chops the vegetables. "Enjoy the view?," he adds.

Very much, you think, though you only say, "Probably..." with a playful smile lingering on your lips. You want to kiss him so badly right now.

Little do you know, he's doing his best to focus on the knife and the vegetables because it's nearly impossible for him to tear his eyes away from your pretty little face.

He needs to kiss your lips so badly, it can actually kill him.

——————

After an hour of talking and exchanging glances filled with unspoken tension, the two plates of pasta are finally served. Yours is carbonara, and his is pomodoro, both look incredibly delicious.

He doesn’t stop watching you as you take your first big bite.

"How’s that?" His voice is filled with anticipation.

"Ummm," you murmur, savoring the taste. "I think this is the best pasta I’ve ever had in my entire life."

At your words, he smiles and laughs, as if he’s just won an Oscar. But to him, it’s not about the pasta…it’s about you. You’re bigger than any prize on earth.

As the hour passes, you find yourselves gossiping about coworkers, chit-chatting about random things, talking about work and food, and eventually landing on a more serious topic…

"Are you seeing anyone?" he asks, and your heart rate skyrockets.

"No," you reply, trying to stay composed, as if you’ve never dreamed of being asked this question by him.

"Are you interested in dating?" he continues.

Yes, yes, fuck yesssss only for you, you think, but instead, you ask, "Why do you ask? Are you trying to flirt with me or something?" You mean it as a joke, not really expecting an answer.

"What if I say yes?"

Your pupils widen at his response. "What?" You are so shocked, can’t really comprehend anything now.

"I'm sorry—"

"No, I think I heard you wrong."

"No, you didn’t… but if you’d rather stay just friends, I’ll understand and respect that."

“I think…no, I know I love you. I’m sorry if this ruins our friendship, but if you don’t feel the same way, just tell me, and we can go back to how things were.”

His gaze is so soft, unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him. He hesitates for a moment, licking his bottom lip quickly before speaking again.

“I love the way you always show up with a genuine smile, even though I know you hate working here. I love how you joke around just to make people laugh, how you make fun our boss, how incredibly smart and beautiful you are. I’m nothing compared to you.”

He pauses, searching your face, trying to read your expression. “You make me want to live like a normal salaryman. I’m on top of the world every time you say, ‘See you tomorrow’ because I’m the one who gets a chance to see you tomorrow and another tomorrow and every other single day. I want to come to work every day just to spend as much time as I can admiring you, being next to you. I want to be the one who takes care of you. You make my ordinary life feel so special, and I love you…most ardently.”

Is it the wine you’ve had? Are you dreaming, or is he really confessing his love to you?

“Are you drunk?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, still in disbelief at what you’ve just heard.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Hell no, I’m not,” he replies, his voice steady and sincere. His eyes lock onto yours, full of a quiet intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

“I truly love you.”

The words hang in the air between you, so heavy with meaning that it feels like the world has paused. You can feel your heart racing, pounding against your chest as you try to process everything. The warmth of the room, the soft glow of the lights, and the remnants of dinner, all of it fades into the background. All you can focus on is him, as he’s standing up from his chair and pouring his heart out in the most genuine way.

His expression is earnest, a mix of vulnerability and determination. This is the man who, just moments ago, was making you laugh with casual banter, and now he’s baring his soul to you, leaving himself completely exposed. You can see the slight tension in his posture, as if he’s bracing himself for whatever might come next, yet there’s also a softness in his gaze that you’ve never seen before.

He takes a step closer, reaching out as if he wants to touch you but stops himself, respecting your space. “I’ve thought about this for so long,” he continues, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Every day, I’ve held back, afraid of ruining what we have. But I can’t keep pretending that my feelings aren’t there. You’re all I think about, and I can’t stand the idea of not telling you how I feel. Even if it means risking everything.”

Your mind races, trying to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you as you can feel the way his breath hitches slightly as he waits for your response, the subtle tremor in your hands as you try to steady yourself.

This is real, you realize. He’s not joking, not exaggerating. He’s laying his heart at your feet, hoping you’ll pick it up and keep it safe. And in that moment, you know that this is a turning point, a moment that will change everything between you.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice, trying to navigate through the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I…” you start, but the words catch in your throat, too tangled up in the disbelief and joy and fear all mingling together.

“I’m sorry, you must be so uncomfortable right now. Let me get you home… It’s already late, and I can’t let you go alone.”

No, he’s got it all wrong. You’re not uncomfortable you’re just too overwhelmed with joy that you can’t find any words to describe it . But he doesn’t give you a chance to explain, assuming the worst.

“Okay,” you respond, the word slipping out before you can stop it. Maybe it’s because a small part of you wonders if he’s actually drunk, that maybe he didn’t mean to say those things and now regrets it. Maybe he just wants to get you home and forget this ever happened.

But you can’t let it end like this. “You can walk me home. It’s 15 minutes from here, no need for a car,” you say, trying to break through the invisible barrier that’s suddenly risen between you. You’re lying it’s almost 45 minutes away but you just want to be with him a little longer, to figure out what’s really going on.

“Really,never know that you live around here.” Of course he doesn’t know. “Doesn’t matter let’s go.” he agrees, giving you a soft smile, though there’s a sigh that escapes him, as if he wants to say more but is holding back.

—————

As you both step out into the cool night air, the silence between you is thick with unspoken words. He falls into step beside you, the warmth of his presence just a breath away. The tension from before lingers, but there’s also a tenderness in the quiet moments as you walk side by side, neither of you in a hurry to reach your destination.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable tonight. I just… I couldn���t keep it in anymore. But I’ll understand if you need time or if you want to pretend none of this happened.” Finally, he speaks again, his voice gentle but firm.

“No,” you blurt out, the word catching in your throat as you stare at him. “Ken…” His name falls from your lips, soft and gentle, as if it caresses his heart.

“Listen to me,” you continue, holding up a hand before he can respond. “Don’t say anything right now. Just… let me get this out.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of your emotions bubbling up inside you, and you decide the only way you can say this is through a story, a safe distance between you and the overwhelming truth. “I’m going to tell it in the third person, because saying it directly feels too embarrassing.”

He tilts his head slightly, waiting, but his eyes don’t leave yours. You press on.

“There’s a woman,” you begin softly, “the most ordinary woman. She got this job a year ago, and everything changed. She had to move away from her hometown, didn’t know anyone here, and for a while, she felt so alone.”

Your voice trembles slightly as you continue, but you push through. “Then she met this man. Just a regular, normal guy. He hated the job, just like she did, only doing it to pay his bills. But there was something about him…something about his smile, about how he always showed up when she needed someone. And that smile, no matter how much she tried to ignore it, never failed to drive her insane.”

You risk a glance at him, and his expression has softened, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. You swallow, continuing your story. “They became close, coworkers, friends. But she wanted more. She needed more. So she started working overtime, just to have a little extra time with him.”

“And today,” you say, your voice lowering, “it’s like a dream come true for her. The man she’s been in love with since she started working here…he feels the same way about her. But it’s so hard to believe, so good that it doesn’t even seem real. She doesn’t know what to say, so her silence makes him think she’s rejecting him, even though it’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

You finish, the last words hanging in the air between you, fragile but full of meaning. You look at him, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what he’ll say.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, his lips curl into a gentle, knowing smile. “So… what happens next in this story?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, turning your head just enough to avoid meeting his eyes. “You tell me.”

He gently reaches out, his hand warm as it grazes your knuckles, and slowly your fingers intertwine. “He takes her hand, just like this,” he says with a tenderness that makes your heart race. “And he realizes he's the luckiest man on earth.”

Your breath hitches as he continues, “He’s so happy, now that he gets to hold the hands of the girl he adores.”

You look up at him, his gaze filled with a warmth you’ve longed to see for so long. “What happens next?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“He kisses her,” he says, leaning just a little closer before adding, “Only if she wants that.”

Your soft giggle fills the space between you. “Yes, she definitely wants that.”

He smiles, closing the remaining distance between you, his hand gently cupping your face as his lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The moment feels unreal, yet more vivid than anything you’ve ever known. The night seems to glow, not from the moon or stars, but from the way he makes your world brighter.

In his arms, love no longer feels like a distant mystery… it’s here, in the touch of his lips, in the warmth of his embrace, in the quiet joy that fills your heart. And suddenly, being a "normal" person in the ordinary grind of life seems more than enough because now, you have him.

How wonderful life is, even in the mundane, when it's shared with someone like him.

[mv1simp]

I’m so in love with your writing style and I think for a suggestion max and the reader being toxic asf exes but can’t get over eachother yk and try make eachother jealous but just end up in eachothers bed always 😭 sorry i suck at explaining but id die if i seen u write something like that 🥰

PLS I ALWAYS LOVE THIS CONCEPT nothing more juicy than some toxic tension with exes 🤭

Wicked Games ♥️

Max Verstappen x Toxic Ex!Reader

but baby let’s face it, I’m not into dating, all these hearts I’ve been breaking (come through, I'm not living like i did before)

no matter how hard you try, you just can’t stay away from your toxic situationship with playboy millionaire Max Verstappen after he breaks it off to be “just friends”. At least you can expect him to have more discipline than you, given his skillset as a 3 time F1 champion, right? Too bad he can’t seem to stay away from you either…

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, jealousy, toxic playboy! Max, smut, cheating, hate sex, just the usual classicsTM

You’d heard about Max Verstappen well before you first met him. Having recently moved to Monaco to start your new job working for a software company, you had quickly become familiar with the world of F1 - including its’ current top driver who was known for his aggressive style on the track and his lavish, playboy lifestyle off it. You hadn’t paid much heed to it until you were at a friend of a friend’s house party one night, after being peerpressured by the threat your coworker Bianca delivered that you were apparently “doomed to die alone as an old dog lady who sat in front of her 4 wide screen computers all day.” Bit dramatic, but it did the trick and soon you were walking through the doors of a raging party that night.

You had been warned that Monaco was a small place, filled with many of the rich and elite, and you were bound to run into some politician, actress or influencer sooner or later. You just hadn’t expected the first celebrity you met to be Max Verstappen, three time world champion, freshly out of a highly publicised breakup with a Russian supermodel! Bianca snarked next to you, yet he was laughing loudly in the middle of the living room, surrounded by his friends without a care in the world.

You shrugged, honestly quite disinterested in the celebrity thing, and had forgotten completely about the F1 driver until a few hours later when you found yourself alone on the outdoor balcony wanting some fresh air, tipsy from a bottle of white wine. Hearing the balcony door open and close again behind you, you started talking, assumed your friend had followed you out - I am never letting you convince me to drink that wine again Bianca, oh my god -

Only to turn around and come face to face with the infamous Max Verstappen himself. You hadn’t realised you had squeaked his full name out loud until he smiled bemusedly, saying just Max is fine, sweetheart. You blushed profusely, apologising and didn’t notice the way he looked you up and down in your cute, conservative outfit of light jeans and a fitted pastel cardigan. Instead of going back inside like you had expected, he struck up a conversation about how that white wine was truly deadly, which then led to a debate about the potency of red vs white vs rose, and before you knew it you two had been talking for hours about anything and everything, including your pets (you were very strongly pro-dogs while he preferred cats, which was just diabolical since they ignored humans half the time. He laughed and said that was the whole point). When he found out you worked in software - specifically, for one that specialised in developing e-sim racing tracks, his blue eyes lit up in genuine excitement as he animatedly began discussing specifics with you, an attractive pink flush on his cheeks from his drinking. He was insanely good looking, with his tall broad build and soft smile, and you were pleasantly surprised he was so down to earth. When it was time to go he had easily asked for your number, Bianca gawking at the scene as you typed your details into his phone, your caramel skin all flushed from the attention of a handsome man like Max. She dragged you off after, hissing at you to be careful, he’s way too much of a player for you, don’t expect much from him, okay? After a couple days went by and you had indeed, not heard anything from Max, you accepted that was that and promptly forgot about it.

But then, 3 weeks later in the middle of your Thursday afternoon Pilates session, your phone dinged with a text. Monza track is down in the system wtf. You guys gonna sort this out? You had panicked initially thinking the unknown number was your boss before your phone dinged again. This is Max btw. Wanna come over and fix the glitch here? Just this once plz 🙏

“Here” turned out to be Max’s insane penthouse apartment overlooking the Monaco marina, and just this once became a monthly occurrence whenever Max was home between races and on his rig with you beside him, sharing your technical knowledge about the online track to help him set new records. Monthly became weekly when Max realized you had never actually driven the rig yourself and you found yourself in his lap - for teaching purposes, of course Max stated unconvincingly - and weekly became almost daily when you started to become a little too good on the track and his hands moved down your body, into your cute short shorts and he expertly slid his fingers into you until you fell apart for the first time, still sitting right there on his lap. Think you need some more practise, schatje, Max had smirked. You crashed into the barriers barely 100 metres in. And the rest had been history.

10 months later, this - situationship? relationship? friends with benefits? gaming buddies who fucked on the side? - had you confused. Sometimes he acted like your boyfriend, having homecooked meals together and watching movies on the couch, his head on your thighs asking you to rub his hair in the way he liked. Other times he acted indifferent, giving you the cold shoulder at parties or the rare times you would join your friends at a race. And when you would be stressed about work he would appear as the caring friend on behalf of your now shared group, rubbing your shoulder and offering you comfort and advice. But the worst would be when he would disappear for weeks, obviously busy with work but would cut off all communication and you would be forced to stalk his fan pages to get updates and read rumours of all the models he would be seen with overseas - only for him to turn up at your doorstep randomly wanting to be let in. You tried to be mad each time, yelling at him to explain himself, knowing this wasn’t healthy, really you did - but it was hard to resist his oh so talented tongue when he would lay you back and whisper sweet apologies in between your legs, making you come over and over again on his fingers, then with his mouth and finally on his thick cock that you had ended up losing your virginity too. You hadn’t realized how attached you had become to the champion driver until you were on a group trip to Amalfi coast and were caught making out on a moonlit beach by a stray papparazzi, making Max freak out.

He had been the one to very clearly insist on keeping things secret - for both your sakes, he said - given his very public status and you had been happy to agree, being a private person yourself. But as time has passed and Max became the only guy you wanted to be with, you had started to assumed he had been feeling the same - judging by the expensive diamond jewellery he would turn up with to pair with his wicked apologies, when he would always be the one you called to pick you up when you were too drunk to taxi home, and in the quiet, domestic moments when you were curled up together he murmured you understand me in a way no one else does, liefje.

Apparently though, Max has not been on the same page at all, which he made very clear when he publically dismissed the multiple viral pictures of you two - which now circulated the internet as finally some juicy gossip about the unusually single F1 driver had emerged. All your friends had sent the interview clip to you, with Max’s clear dismissal of I don’t know really know her, just an acquaintance from my friend group. My priority is my career, not entertaining the fangirls, he had said without an ounce of guilt on his handsome face.

You’d been desperate to give him a chance to explain himself, thinking it was a PR tactic, but Max had been ignoring your calls for days and you ended up knocking at his door. He’d let you in with a sigh, watching your eyes fill with tears as he said it had never been that serious, c’mon baby, when had I ever said it was exclusive, just a bit of fun for you too wasn’t it? Got a good fucking from me and a bunch of Cartier jewellery. Let’s just stay friends from now on, yeah?

God. What a fucking prick. You made sure he knew it too as you screamed it at him before storming off. You still hadn’t fully accepted it, checking your phone afterwards and expecting him to call and grovel for your forgiveness, until your friend group’s Sunday brunch a couple weeks later, where Max had made a rare appearance - and this time, with a pretty girl you vaguely recognised from a magazine cover right by his side. You had met his eyes across the table briefly, looking for any hint of remorse but finding none, as he quickly looked away, laughing at the girl next to him. You fled straight to Bianca’s after, into her arms and sympathetic gaze as she rubbed you through your sobs. It took you weeks to get out of your depressive slump, your heart completely broken and humiliated publically. You promised yourself, you were never going to shed a tear over Max Verstappen again.

You were a young, hot, and very talented woman living in Monaco - and now that you were no longer hung up on Max, you were free to monopolise on your single status. Althought he has left you with a broken heart, he’d undeniably made you a lot more experienced and confident when it came to navigating guys - without become too emotionally invested, of course. You only needed to get your heart broken once to learn never to do it again. You traded in your cute conservative outfits for more trendy, fitted pieces that show off your body just right as you started going on dates with different guys every weekend.

After a lunch date earlier that day, you were walking into a friend’s house for a group potluck one evening, still dressed in an off shoulder summery minidress and kitten heels, with matching makeup done to complete the look. You’re absentmindedly replying to a text from the guy who had said he’d love to see you again when you catch sight of Max for the first time in weeks, along with a new girl you hadn’t seen next to him. Before, this would have sent you into a spiral, but now you just push down on any unwanted feeling and greet everyone warmly. Conversation is flowing, wine poured and everyone digs into dinner, and when the topic of dating came up your friends were curious to hear about all the dates you’d been spotted on recently. You start telling some of them one of the funnier first date stories where the guy’s ex had been bartending and he had been paranoid the whole night about being poisoned. At some point you notice Max has been glancing in your direction. You look back, raising an eyebrow to say What? and this time he doesn’t break eye contact, staring at you before slowly drifting his gaze up and down your body. You flush and turn around, ignoring him the rest of the night and also ignoring the butterflies that swirled in your stomach from seeing him. Fucking asshole, checking you out while his girlfriend is right next to him on the couch.

Max’s heated stares across the room continue at the next gathering and the one after that and you continued to purposely avoid him. And if anyone noticed that you were dressed in cuter and tighter outfits each time, in the pastel colours that you knew he liked with matching heels, revealing more of your tantalising tan skin for Max’s gaze, they wisely chose not to comment. It all came to a head at a party on Max’s yacht one weekend. You greeted him politely as you stepped on, having come to terms that you two ran in the same circle and had to act like civil adults. He greeted you back easily, arm around a different eye candy model this time. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his usual playboy ways and went to go fix yourself a drink.

After you had all gone swimming and eaten dinner and were now relaxing watching the sunset, your phone dinged with a text to signal the arrival of Anton, who was the latest hire at your workplace and had recently been coming to a few events with your friends. He was also your newest hookups in your recent string of casual relationships - most of which had been average in bed at best, and you had your fingers crossed that Anton was going to deliver. Your group greeted him warmly as he came upto the deck, coming straight to your side and you leaned in to rest on his lap, all relaxed from your cocktails. You didn’t miss Max’s glances at Anton’s hands that lay on your thighs. The night went on and more drinks were drunk and people wandered off, yet Max’s agitated gaze was now firmly fixed on Anton’s fingers moving up your legs, lifting your skimpy sundress and rubbing your thighs. His own latest fling was completely ignored as she sat next to him, clinging onto his biceps. Smirking with satisfaction at having riled Max up for once, you excused yourself to head to the toilet downstairs.

You had barely entered the hallway when you were yanked into a side room and slammed against the door as it closed. Max?! you gasped, looking up to find his stormy blue eyes staring at you heatedly. You push him back with full force, What the fuck do you think you’re doing-

He cuts you off with a scoff, Oh, what I’m doing? You’re the one practically getting fingered by that fuckwit in front of everyone! He steps forward, now even closer into your space, and you can’t deny how turned on seeing him get all hot and bothered has made you. What, jealous Verstappen? Missed me that much? you tease. Too bad, you already fucked it up with me. Otherwise that could have been your hands on me instead.

Max looks positively murderous at your jab before a predatory glint emerges in his eye. Schatje, he says, making you bristle and demand stop calling me that but he ignores you. Schatje, you’re the one who wants my hands on her, hmm? I heard you, you know. Earlier when you were talking to Bianca about how none of the guys you’ve been fucking have been able to do it for you. Making you cum was never a problem for me, remember? don’t you miss it? Shall I fix that problem for you?

Oh, you do remember. For all his arrogance Max was an absolute god in the bedroom and you missed the sex dearly - and it seems Max had been missing it too. He easily lifts you up against the wall, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as trails his hands up your dress and you’re rolling your eyes and denying his words, telling him he was a cocky asshole and you hated him but not stopping him as his fingers slid into you, finding you already dripping. He smirks, all ego, but you quickly wipe it off his face by telling him it’s probably still wet from when Anton went down on me earlier. A complete lie but Max didn’t need to know that, did he?

And no one else needed to know that Max angrily swore at your lie as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, grabbing a hold of your tiny dress and whispering how you were such a dirty girl for wearing these slutty outfits and teasing him.

No one needed to know when he yanked his raging erection out his trunks and began thrusting into you, moaning in your ear about how you were just as tight as the first time he had fucked you, right here on the same yacht, and just like that night he’s going to make you come again now-

And no one needed to know that when you both emerged hastily upto the deck a while later, sitting down next to your respective latest partners but your eyes still fixed on each other, it was his cum that was now covering the inside of your thighs.

Once you had started you both couldn’t stop. Everytime you saw each other things got more and more out of control. A new influencer at Max’s side who was left alone when he fingered you to completion in the dark gardenshed outside a friend’s house party, his other fingers shoved inside your mouth for you to suck on and keep your moans quiet. An ex client of yours left wandering trying to find you, his date at his own charity gala, while you were upstairs riding Max on a plush chaise in the office up, heels still on and silk dress pulled up, making him swear in a way only you could get out of him as you took him in deep. You’d tell him you hated him, that you were only using him to relieve your sexual tension and he meant nothing and he would laugh, whispering in your ear Don’t lie, baby, I know you love this, your sweet pussy just needs my cock inside it, huh?

This went on and on for weeks, a twisted competition where whoever would concede first and drag the other one away was the loser - and you and Max both despised losing. It wasn’t until you were almost caught on camera by paparazzi yet again, this time in the back of his Aston Martin Valkyrie with your head between his legs, deepthroating him messily, using your tongue just the way he liked it- that Max freaked out again and demanded you two break it off at once. You’d rolled your eyes at his melodrama, thinking he was bluffing, but true to his word Max hightailed it out of a room the next few times he saw you, despite your best efforts at picking an outfit you were sure would make him crumble.

Time for you to up the ante, you mused. You weren’t going to stop until you walked away as the winner of this wicked game. You licked his cum off your lips as you devilishly thought up you next plan.

Maybe this time you’d go flirt with one of his handsome driver friends and really piss him off?

—————————————————————————

A/N: love seeing requests you guys send, pls send as many as you want I need inspo!!! Hope you enjoyed this anon lmk what u think, will write Part 2 soon if u keen 🫶 soz I made it too long ahahah had to split it up