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#Not even the whole damn table: a *corner* of it
writeriguess · 2 days
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imagine if katsuki bakugou went to karen’s diner
Karen's Diner: the infamous restaurant where the staff are rude, the customers are sassy, and no one leaves without getting roasted. So naturally, Katsuki Bakugo thought it was a perfect place to test his temper. He was no stranger to confrontation, and if anyone thought they could out-yell him, they were in for a rude awakening.
He pushed through the door, his scowl already in place. The diner was buzzing with loud chatter, sarcastic remarks flying from waiters and waitresses like bullets. He spotted a table and sat down with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.
A waitress in her mid-twenties approached, chewing gum obnoxiously loud. She gave him a once-over before rolling her eyes.
"Wow, another angry dude with a superiority complex," she said flatly. "You must be fun at parties. What do you want?"
Bakugo's eyes twitched, but he kept it together—barely. “Tch, I’ll have whatever's the quickest. I don’t have all day to deal with your half-assed service.”
The waitress raised an eyebrow. "Oh, someone's got a hot head. What, you run out of hair gel or something? You look like a discount Super Saiyan."
Bakugo’s hand gripped the edge of the table. His eye twitched again. “What the hell did you just say, you extra?”
She smirked. "I said, you look like a Super Saiyan knockoff. But hey, it’s cute you think you’re intimidating."
Bakugo could feel his blood boiling, but part of him knew he came here for this exact reason—to be challenged, to see if anyone could really get under his skin. And damn, they were trying.
“Cute? I’ll show you cute when I blow this whole shitty diner sky high!” His palms began to spark as tiny explosions crackled from his hands.
The waitress, completely unfazed, snapped her gum. "Wow, big threats from someone who can’t even handle a little banter. You want a sippy cup for that attitude, sweetie?"
That was it. His chair scraped back violently as he stood up, leaning over the table.
"Listen here, you—"
Before Bakugo could finish his sentence, another waitress passed by with a tray of food, purposefully bumping into him, spilling a drink all over his pants.
"Oh no!" she said in the most monotone voice possible. "My bad. Guess you can’t stop blowing things up long enough to dodge a little water, huh?"
Bakugo stared down at his soaked pants, his fists clenched at his sides. He was on the verge of exploding—literally—when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A group of customers at a nearby table were recording him, their phones aimed right at his face. The smirk on their faces told him everything he needed to know.
They wanted a reaction. They wanted him to lose it, to go full "Bakugo" in Karen’s Diner for the entertainment of social media.
Bakugo took a deep breath, the explosions in his palms subsiding. His eyes narrowed at the waitress, who was still standing there with her smug look.
"You’re not worth it," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
The waitress shrugged, unimpressed. "Good choice, blondie. Now, how about that order?"
Bakugo plopped back into his seat, glaring at her. "Just give me a burger. And make it fast before I change my mind and torch this whole place."
As the waitress walked off, muttering something sarcastic under her breath, Bakugo sat back, arms crossed tightly, his scowl deeper than before. Karen’s Diner might have won this round, but Bakugo knew one thing for sure—no one would get the last laugh on him for long.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d come back. Just to see if they could do better next time.
Requests are open. Send as many as you like.
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charmfamily · 1 year
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There is nothing I simultaneously love and hate more than setting up a scene in a dining room.
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alexthetrashyracoon · 6 months
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Simon wants to marry you.
This fact was as clear as rain on his mind. You were the love of his life, he was ready to settle down with you and grow old.
So Simon prepared everything for that special day, it was your fourth year anniversary and Simon wants to ask you the biggest question someone could ask and he hoped, maybe even prayed despite not believing in any higher deity, that you would say 'yes' to his proposal.
He has planned out the whole day, from the moment you woke to the moment you would close your eyes for the night again, everything was supposed to be perfect.
Simon brings you breakfast in bed, watching your smile brighten when you see the freshly pressed orange juice and the fresh buns, still warm from the bakery. "Happy Anniversary." He whispers before slipping back into bed behind you, pulling you between his legs and stealing some of the freshly cut Mango from your plate.
When breakfast is over, you two made a mess out of each other while trying to feed each other, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, telling you to get ready and that he has a lot of plans for today which causes you to become perceptive. Immediately starting to question him about his plans, but he's still a trained soldier, he withstands your flow of questions.
Another plan of Simon for today was bringing you to a fair, the same one you two met four years ago.
Here he wanted to ask you to marry him, on top of the Ferris wheel where you two had been stuck together four years ago due to a technical issue with the electronic.
But after spending a few hours walking the fair ground, having to walk back to his car once to bring Lord Otto from Otterson, the plush Otter he won you at one of the stupid and usually very rigged fair games, to safety and out of the way. You make it to the Ferris wheel and Simon's face fell.
"Out of order..." He breathes and runs a hand through his short blonde hair, staring up at the still standing wheel and the dangling cable cars.
"Damn." You curse softly next to him and scratch your neck. "Well, maybe we can ride it another day, mhm?"
"Yeah, maybe. Well, we can't change anything now." He chuckles and squeezes the velvety box in his back pocket. Keeping it safe until you two would reach the next destination.
The small restaurant by the corner where you two lived was filled with loud voice, happy laughter, children running around, not that Simon minded, he knew you were a very outgoing person and enjoyed the social interactions from such evenings.
Simon had reserved a table a few weeks ago and the waiter brings you and him over, Simon shushing the poor man who just wants to help you sit.
He is your boyfriend, bloody hell, he can do something so simple as helping you get seated.
"I know it is our anniversary, Simon," You chuckle as you put down the glass of wine Simon has ordered for you and him, "But something feels different. I just don't know what. Special..."
"Four years is just a long time, love. Maybe your brain finally catches up with... wha-?" Simon wants to be cheesy with you before asking you the question of all questions when suddenly his feet feel wet and he looks down, seeing water come from the kitchen.
His second attempt of asking for your hand has been sabotaged by a broken water pipe.
Simon curses internally as he carries you back outside, not wanting to get your feet wet and cause you catching some flu.
Well, there is only the romantic walk through the nearby park which is empty around this time of the night, so you two can walk around the pond and watch the fireflies and swans before he can go down on one knee and finally ask.
But before he even get you through the sturdy iron gates that allowed entrance to the park, his phone rang, Prices' number on the screen and everything in Simon screams to ignore his Captain for the sake of your relationship and your future.
He apologizes and takes the call, listening to Price explaining that they've got information about a certain Russian Terrorist planning an attack and that they had to meet within the next hour.
"It's fine." You reassure him when he brings you back to your shared apartment, squeezing his hand with a gentle smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today with at my side. And saving the world is much more important. We can celebrate another time, Si."
"You're too forgiving." Simon replies and presses his chapped lips against your forehead. "But it's not fine. I had the whole day planned out. And the universe seems against me at all, bloody hell. All I wanted to do tonight was asking you to marry me. And everything I've tried blew. The Ferris Wheel, the restaurant, even the walk..."
You cut him off before he can talk himself into a frenzy by wrapping your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes and planting your lips on his.
"Yes." You grin when you pull back. "Yes, I will marry you, Simon Riley. I will marry you."
Maybe he should have simply asked you this morning during breakfast, might have saved him from getting another grey hair on his head. But sometimes the simple answer is hidden behind the complicated ideas.
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gutsby · 8 months
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Hating Game
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Celebrating your dad’s birthday at the yacht club becomes damn near unbearable when Joel Miller brings a date along too. Jealousy and hate sex ensue.
Warnings: 18+. Food fight turned hatefuck (don’t ask). Cockwarming and semi-public sex on the bridge deck. Oral (m! and f!receiving). Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Age gap. C*mplay. Katoptronophilia. Orgasm denial. One risqué Viagra joke. Drinking games. Descriptions of vomiting. Joel cockwarming you while smoking a cigarette <3
Part 1 | Part 3
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"Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?"
You can. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he’s buried so deep inside you is a far harder task than expected, though. Especially when he’s so still.
Joel sees it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leans over your body and digs his hips even deeper—not thrusting, but still granting a modicum of friction as he takes another drag of his cigarette. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulses like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes roll back.
An orangutan on roller skates would’ve had more grace.
A grizzly bear in hibernation might’ve been more lively.
A fucking cross-eyed octopus reciting Shakespeare would’ve been less strange, alarming, and painfully awkward to see than your father’s best friend the week after he’d railed you senseless in the front seat of his car.
Joel Miller had shown up with a date, for Christ’s sake.
Of course, you’d been three cocktails deep and playing stack cup with a random group of gentlemen on the bridge deck at the time, but that was almost immaterial. This was your dad’s fifty-first birthday party—one of the rowdiest nights the Austin Yacht Club had yet to see—and yeah, you planned on getting belligerently shitfaced on Dirty Shirleys and obscene amounts of catered food.
You’d never thought to bring a date of your own, though.
That was just distasteful and crass, all things considered.
Presently, you slammed your ping pong ball to the tabletop and watched it make a wide arc over your cup.
“Fuckfuckfuuuuuck,” you whispered low as the man four spots down made it in, and the man after him bounced the ball straight into his own on the first go. He moved the tall, swaying stack of red Solos immediately to your right, and you knew from the jump you were fucked.
Tommy Miller was a master at stack. You could already see the sly smile on his face from the corner of your eye.
Just as Mötley Crüe gave way to Hall & Oates on the speakers overhead, Joel’s brother crammed his stack of cups over your own and made a smug, triumphant bow.
“All you, kid,” he grinned and slid the second to last cup in your direction.
You could’ve cursed his whole bloodline, Joel included.
There was no way in hell you were getting stuck with death cup again—the last, cruel punishment for the loser of the game a mix of three different types of liquor, soda, and a spritz of Natty Light. Filled to the brim and waiting to be downed by whoever didn’t sink the final shot.
You squared your shoulders and locked the fuck in.
Bounced the ball once. Twice. Christ, this was hard. The man to your left was struggling too, but he seemed just as determined and twice as skilled, and you were pretty buzzed. A second later, he made it in and, of course, slid it right back to Tommy, who was practically overcome with laughter.
“MILLER! MILLER! MILLER!” Men were not creative when it came to chants. Or beating fists on furniture.
“Quit shakin’ the shit!” Tommy roared, tapping his ping pong ball deftly onto the table’s surface.
You blinked a few hazy, anxious thoughts out of your head and tried with everything in you not to miss this shot. The instrumental bridge of ‘Maneater’ was sinking its teeth in your soul and taunting your nerves to no end.
You took the ball, swallowed hard, watched the cup, and flicked your wrist, at last, from a singularly perfect angle.
The ball was a millisecond away from making it in.
Tommy Fuckstick Miller managed to stack you first.
A chorus of obnoxious, wholly drunk howls rang loud in your ears, and suddenly, the attention was back on you, the unhappy victim of the game’s most gruesome drink.
You didn’t hesitate. You pinched your nose and guzzled from the cup before the torment could go on any longer.
You did well at first.
Opened your throat like a pro and cleared it down to the last fourth of the drink, to the point where you could see the slick white bottom side of the cup clear as day.
Your mouth had just flooded with the final draught of death cup when a familiar guitar riff caught you off guard.
You weren’t sure why it had to happen that way, but after being forced to listen to the song some five thousand times on your road trip with Joel, the tenor of Billy Joel’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you now. Grating. Nauseating.
Vomit-inducing.
Swiftly, you ran to the nearest railing and lost your last drink—and your whole dinner—over the side of the boat.
You yakked into Lake Travis like you never had before.
And, just as that stupid, forever-tainted song surged on, you heard footsteps approaching. A moment’s pause. Then a hand on your back. Patting gently and, seconds later, lowering a cup of water to the side of your head.
Your face was still dangling upside down off the yacht. You didn’t want to be touched.
“Go to hell, Tommy,” you muttered.
“You first,” he said, chuckling.
You didn’t sit so much as slump back onto the deck with your head in your hands. The whole boat had gone sideways in your mind, and Tommy’s outstretched arm looked more like a bubbling lump than a friendly gesture.
You groaned at the sight of the cup and shook your head.
“I’m alright, okay. I’m good.”
Then, when the cup didn’t waver:
“Can they change the fucking song already?!”
Tommy cocked a brow and squatted down next to you. He set the water aside.
“Got a problem with dad rock or somethin’?” he smirked.
You shook your head no—it wasn’t the music that was making you sick but the man Tommy called his brother that made you wanna vomit again. The thought of that man tangled up with a svelte brunette who looked fresh off the cover of Sports Illustrated when he couldn’t even be bothered to shoot you a text after the condom broke last week. Like he just didn’t give a shit if you were alive, dead, or pregnant with his child. Unfortunately, you had nothing more to throw up, and your eyes were on fire.
Tommy slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. Took a handkerchief out of his pocket.
“No more Dirty Shirleys for you, young lady,” he chided, dabbing lightly at the tears that had trickled out.
“No more men for me,” you grumbled quietly.
You couldn’t see it then, but you could feel him trying not to smile. He tugged you closer.
“Boy trouble, huh?” he said, “Whose ass needs kickin’?”
Your brother, actually. Curb stomp that fucker, please.
You shrugged instead.
“Some guy from school.”
Tommy nodded, waiting for you to elaborate. When you didn’t, he just assumed you wanted to keep it to yourself—which you did—and squeezed your shoulder softly.
“Well…you know you’ve got your dad, me, and Joel to beat the shit outta any guy, any time, any place, right?”
You wished it were that simple. You wiped your nose and nodded all the same.
“And…” Tommy started again, working slow to get you back on your feet, “Most guys your age don’t know their ass from their fuckin’ elbow, honeybun. Don’t take it too personal if he’s dumb enough to lose a gem like you.”
The corners of your lips twitched slightly at his words. Almost smiling by the time he had you up on your feet.
“Thanks, Tommy.”
“Anytime, kiddo.”
You might’ve rolled your eyes when he pinched your cheek, but the water he held back up for you to drink looked far too appetizing, and you knew he meant well. You took the cup from him and started to chug.
Again, you’d almost made it through the whole refreshment when a sound threw you off. Abruptly.
“Where have you two lovebirds been?!” Tommy chirped.
You lowered your water and almost regurgitated again. Bile jumped up in your throat, and you just narrowly managed to keep it all down with a cough and a sputter.
Joel and Ms. Centerfold were at the far end of the deck.
Joel was tucking his dress shirt back into his pants.
Are you fucking kidding me?
“Gettin’ nasty on her daddy’s yacht? That’s bold,” Tommy cackled, nudging you playfully.
Your face was bloodless. Every last ounce of pretense and decorum had spilled out with your dinner, before, and now you were just staring at Joel blankly. Numb.
You watched him shove the last clump of his shirt under the waistband and straighten up slightly. The woman at his side flashed you and Tommy a blinding white smile.
“Might say the same for you,” she called back. She seemed to be eyeing you both with a half-curious look.
Tommy made a face as if to say ‘yuck—what the fuck?’ and threw his arm around you again, shaking you lightly.
“She’s like my little sister, Ashton. You’re fuckin’ gross.”
Little sister. Nice. Like a knife twisting inside your gut.
If Joel took any notice of the comment, he didn’t show it. He just stood there, dull and impassive as a loaf of bread. Every coarse lineament of his face was unreadable—just as bleak, bland, and uncaring as the eyes staring out of it. Then he fished around in his back pocket and pulled out his lighter and a pack of American Spirits. He passed the latter to Ashton and leaned over to give her a light.
Throwing yourself off the boat seemed like the most logical next move out of anything available to you.
That’s when you knew you were off your shit and needed to leave the bridge deck—immediately.
“Need a drink,” you mumbled, starting off the other way.
Tommy was hot on your heels, following fast after you.
“That’s— that’s actually the last thing you need, I think, sweetie. How ‘bout some lemonade?”
“Can you spike it with bleach?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Tommy followed you down the staircase straight through to the galley, past the throngs and pockets of partygoers crowding the main dining area. Hitting the bar was a bad idea—wait staff knew you well enough to sense when you were utterly trashed, sad, or both—so you slipped toward the wine cooler and quickly sidestepped Tommy.
“No! No way. Nuh-uh.” He was still trying to block your access to the fridge when you grabbed hold of the door.
“Hair of the dog, Thomas.”
“That’s not a thing. That’s— you just projectile vomited off the deck, dude. You need a breather.”
You stopped just long enough to let Tommy pry you off the refrigerator handle and back to the kitchen island. You were pissed off, sure, but also not nearly prepared for another drop of alcohol if you were being honest with yourself. Your head was still spinning when you sat down on the counter.
Once you were settled, Tommy got to rifling through the cabinets, and you pressed a hand to your forehead.
“So how long’s that been going on?” You couldn’t help it.
“Wha- oh, Joel and Ash?” Tommy hummed from deep inside a cupboard. He came out with a small blue box.
You winced at the nickname. Watched him go from the pantry to the sink, fill a glass halfway, find a spoon, and tear the box in two, along with a couple chalky tablets.
“They’ve been…weird.” The sentence was punctuated with a pinch of his brow and a frown. He started stirring.
“Weird how?”
Your feet were dangling over the edge of the island; you pretended to gain a sudden interest in a smudge on the toe of your shoe.
“Weird like…I don’t know,” Tommy tossed the spoon in the sink and turned back to you. Holding out the cup, “They’ve been ‘friendly’ for years—Ash is a coworker of ours—and Joel swears it’s nothing more…but I dunno.”
He ended his speech again with that weird intonation and grimace, like he wasn’t so sure if he believed what he was saying himself, then shook his head and shrugged. He watched you take a sip of the Alka-Seltzer and urged you to get the whole thing down. It tasted like shit.
“Christ, that’s salty,” you coughed.
You didn’t want to keep going, but Tommy tipped the glass back in your hand and made you finish.
“It’ll help with your stomach,” he said before strolling over to the caterers’ fridge to look for bland food options.
“So if they’re not a thing, why’d he bring her here?”
You didn’t care what Tommy thought of your questions. He knew you were eager to hear the tea in any situation.
You watched as your friend procured a hand of bananas and some bread. He gave the fruit to you and took the bread over to the toaster, where he dropped in two slices. You couldn’t quite tell if he was contemplating an answer, didn’t want to spill, or hadn’t heard the question at all. He snagged a plate and a butter knife while you peeled apart your snack, silently dying to know the truth.
At length, Tommy shrugged. Again.
“‘Cause Joel’s a goddamn drama queen and doesn’t know what he wants, I s’pose,” he said.
Ain’t that the truth.
Then, after a minute:
“Had his panties in a wad ever since he went to Boston.”
You stiffened hearing that. You couldn’t pretend to be invested in your shoe scuff, the floor, or the food in your hand any longer. Your eyes flitted up to Tommy to see if his expression had shifted any.
It hadn’t—he was just looking for strawberry jam.
“You hitched a ride home with him then, didn’t you?” he asked casually.
You swallowed and nodded. You watched Tommy retrieve the two freshly-warmed pieces of toast that jumped up to greet him and, having found the jam he wanted, slapped them both on a plate and lathered them up. You muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ as he slid them over.
You were almost too scared to ask more questions, but you knew you had to find out. About Joel, Ashton, anything Tommy might’ve gleaned about your trip home from Boston. You found you could hardly sit in one place and had to step off the counter to eat your food.
“Joel’s been, uhh…how do Gen Z’s say it? Trippin’ balls?” Tommy reached for a banana himself and started in.
“Tweaking,” you corrected him.
“Tweakin’, yeah. Joel’s been a real fuckin’ tweaker lately.”
“In what way?”
“Just…shuttin’ himself in is all. Wouldn’t talk to me or your dad or anybody for days after he got back. Didn’t show up for our monthly Bingo matchup at Mando’s—and he hasn’t missed one of those in almost six years.”
You pursed your lips, equally mystified. You knew just how seriously your dad and his friends took those games—how rare it was for Joel to turn down any opportunity to drink, play Star Wars-themed Bingo, and shoot the shit with his buddies over Coors Light and cheese curds. You took another bite and waited for Tommy to continue.
“And there’s— there was this…thing he— I dunno.”
Suddenly, it seemed your friend had lost the power of coherent speech, and he was rubbing the back of his neck, flashing a half-sheepish smile, and shaking his head. Contemplating whether he should share something with you and ultimately deciding against it.
You raised both eyebrows.
“What?”
“Nah, it’s dumb, really.”
“Tell me.” You took a far-too-large bite of your banana and had some trouble getting it down.
“Well, he…” Tommy trailed off, shifting his gaze from yours to take a look at his own shoe, for a second, “When me and your dad were riding with Joel to a work site…we, uh…found a box of Plan B in his glove compartment.”
Half-chewed banana and toast almost flew across the room while you spluttered and choked and just barely managed to cover your mouth to keep it all in.
“Right? Threw me for a loop, too,” Tommy grinned as you beat your chest with a fist and fought to keep yourself breathing, “Your dad damn near had a baby when he picked that little box and those booty shorts up himself.”
When he what?! You wanted to scream, just picturing your straight-laced, conservative father flipping a Plan B box between his hands, in shock, and then…your shorts—when the fuck had you taken your shorts off again?
Right, when you were busy trying to scoop some more of Joel’s jizz from your cunt as he raced you both to CVS.
Good times.
You held your hair back and leaned over the sink, spitting two more chunks of banana and bread down the drain. Tommy reached around behind you for the spigot and filled another glass with water as he tried not to laugh.
“Easy, now,” he said, patting your back like he’d done for you before, “Joel didn’t happen to mention this lady friend to you now, did he?”
“No,” you choked. You wiped your mouth clear of any spit and food residue and slowly blinked down into the sink, feeling an old wave of nausea begin to settle over you. Accepted the new glass of water from Tommy and hoped he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you did.
The man seemed completely oblivious. Still standing close behind you, Tommy rubbed circles in your back and leaned a little closer.
“Death cup really got ya, huh?” He smirked, and you realized then that he very much was like an older brother. This whole situation with Joel was fucked on so many levels and would be fucked tenfold if Tommy ever found out.
You turned around and felt yourself steadied between two warm, broad palms—‘Wanna sit? Lie down?’—and then you were shaking your head, reaching for another banana and trying like hell to seem semi-composed, though every neuron in your brain was firing away at a million miles per second and your legs were feeling like scrambled eggs.
“I’m okay.”
“Yeah?”
Suddenly, one of Tommy’s hands had moved up to brush a few strands of hair from your face, and you felt your skin radiating raw heat. A deep-seated anxiety, too.
He’s going to find out—what if he already knows?
What if Joel tells Tommy?
What if Tommy tells dad?
Your mind was reeling, on fire, still working in earnest to find something to tell your friend to say you were fine, just dizzy, and definitely not fucking his big brother.
Your brain was drawing blank after blank after blank.
Just then, a clatter sounded nearby. Both of you jumped.
When you shot a look to the source of the intrusion, you nearly folded into Tommy from secondhand humiliation.
“Nice hands, feet,” the younger Miller called over to Joel, who was currently trying to recover the dozen-odd pots and pans he’d knocked over at the threshold of the room. You stared at the two in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and disgust—the latter reserved exclusively for Joel.
You set your drink down, held your hand over your stomach, and pretended to head for the bathroom.
“Be right back,” you muttered, brushing past both men.
You knew you wouldn’t be back at all if you could help it.
Still clutching your banana in one hand and your raucously churning tummy in the other, you climbed the galley stairs fast to get back up to the bridge deck. You almost tripped over both your heels trying to make it up the steps so quick, desperate for solitude and quiet.
Another hair metal hit from the ‘80s was playing overhead, but fortunately, the deck was free of people. You stumbled over to one of the catering tables, looking helplessly for something that might settle your belly, but no, this sickness was coming straight from your head—from that insufferable munch of a man, Joel Miller.
You gingerly approached the railing behind the table and prepared yourself for another round of dry heaving.
You rested both elbows on the metal, looked out toward the dark, glassy water beneath you, then hung your head in abject defeat. You slid your tongue across the roof of your mouth and waited for the vomit to come.
The only thing that followed were footsteps.
Heavy, thunderous sounds making their way up the stairs.
“Stay back, Tommy. Please.” You raised a hand to the man approaching softly behind you, not turning your head, “That Alka-Seltzer stuff didn’t work for shit.”
“Shoulda stuck to water, sweet pea.”
That made you pivot.
Not a quick tilt of the head or a twist to the side, but a full-fledged 180-degree spin on your heels, hand to your gut, what-the-FUCK-are-you-doing-here turnaround.
You stared ahead and felt sicker than you had all night.
Then, pointing one crooked, accusatory finger his way without thinking, you hardly knew or heard what you were saying before the words came out. It sounded a little something like, “Joel, you goddamn fucking idiot.”
Joel didn’t flinch.
In fact, he seemed supremely unfazed.
He just held your fuming gaze and frowned.
“You tryin’ to fuck my little brother or somethin’?”
Your hand had closed around your banana on the table before his words had hung in the air for even a second. You flung the fruit full-force at his head, enraged.
Unfortunately, you were drunk and your aim was shit. Your yellow boomerang-like weapon of choice barely made it within three feet of its target before it glanced off a light fixture and struck the ground with a thud.
Accuracy be damned, you weren’t quite done.
“You left the fucking Plan B out for my dad to find?!”
Just when Joel tried to answer, or perhaps hurl another accusation in your direction, you stuck your hand in the closest catering tray you could find—a serving of green peas, as it was. You lobbed a handful at the man as he started to draw closer, and this time, you managed to land a pretty hefty spray. Joel only rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t leave it there—you did,” he retorted.
“My shorts, too?!”
You grabbed another fistful of peas and threw it. Joel was able to dodge it right before making it to the other end of the table. He gripped the edges of the wood in both hands and stood stern—imposingly—opposite you.
“Your shorts, your fuckin’ problem, sweets.”
Just when you reached for another green pea projectile, he surprised you and made for the tray right beside it.
Shortly, a glob of garlic mashed potatoes struck the front of your dress and slid slow, almost sluggishly down the pristine pink silk fabric before falling at your feet. Joel’s aim was evidently much better than yours.
You brushed what chunks of food you could get off your chest and pinned him with a wide, incredulous look.
“You’re a Grade A fucking asshole, you know that?”
“You’re a bit of a shithead too, potato tits.”
“FUCK you!”
“Already DID!”
You would’ve flipped the whole table if it were in your power to do so. Would’ve toppled all the tables, kicked the chairs, took a lighter to the curtains and sent the goddamned yacht down in flames if you had to—that was how much you despised the man in front of you.
Instead, you threw your hands up and stormed off.
“Maybe I will fuck Tommy!” you barked as you started toward the stairs, “I’ll fuck your brother’s brains out, and you can screw Ashton all you want, how ‘bout that?”
You’d made it about two feet before Joel grabbed hold of one of your wrists and yanked you back. You didn’t hesitate to throw a gruff—and ultimately fruitless—punch that hit him square in the chest. He didn’t budge.
“You don’t mean that,” Joel sneered. He shook your whole frame with one simple flick of his forearm.
“I’ll tap your whole bloodline like a keg, Miller. Try me.”
Again, you tried to shake him off, but the hand only constricted around you tighter. Then it was walking you backwards, slowly, almost carefully, until your back was to a wall and your eyes were searching his, angry as ever.
“You’d break your daddy’s heart with that one,” Joel said just above you, voice lowered considerably.
“Yeah?” you challenged, “Maybe if I was less of a shithead I would care what my dad thought. But I’m not. So I won’t.”
“Wasn’t talkin’ about your father, darlin’.”
Joel was good.
He was an insufferable ass and he was good.
Then you remembered the radio silence over the past seven days and the fact that he may or may not have fucked someone else earlier that night—possibly right where you were standing—and he lost all appeal real quick. You shoved him hard in the chest once more.
“Don’t play that shit with me. You, of all people—” You made as if to read him the riot act but cut yourself short, deciding it wasn’t worth your time explaining human empathy to a man who believed bootcut jeans and all things Ely Cattleman were peak fashion, and just learned what ovulation was last week. Then, sliding along the wall and trying to head to the stairs again, you felt Joel’s leg slot between your own.
“What did I do?” he said, curious.
Before you could answer, his thigh had stirred in place, grazing lightly over the spot the hem of your minidress had exposed to him. You ignored it.
“Doesn’t matter,” was your non-answer.
Joel seemed intrigued by the ambiguity and only lowered his head to get closer to yours—‘Then why’re ya so mad you’re throwin’ dinner food at me, darlin’?’—puffing warm breaths on your neck and only smiling when you flinched back. He took your response as a cue to keep pressing, both figuratively and physically.
“Just wanted attention or somethin’? That what it is?” Joel’s voice was as saccharine as it was taunting, words paired with a hand circling light across your thigh. He wasn’t moving in, and it was tearing you to shreds inside.
“Fuck your attention, and fuck you, Joel.”
Words hardly reflecting how you felt internally.
Swiftly, then, the hand at your leg was raised to your face—cupping it with a bit more force than you expected. Joel’s grin stretched even wider.
“Attention and discipline,” he mused aloud, “Two things dad never gave his little girl growin’ up, I see.”
Before you could reply, he was squeezing your face even tighter and nodding his head, as if already anticipating your answer. Then, somehow lower, “Such a filthy mouth on her, too. Never knows when to keep it shut and how to be polite to someone who fucked her so nice already.”
You might’ve whimpered if you didn’t also want to throat punch the motherfucker and knee him in the balls. When Joel started stroking your cheek, you groaned instead, and you hoped he would hear it as chagrin, not arousal.
“I can help with both of those, y’know—” His thumb rubbed a little harder, and his leg moved up. You pressed your hands flat to his thigh to keep him from teasing, but the man would do no such thing to oblige you. In fact, he just shifted his leg back and forth…and back, again. A ripple of bliss from the friction sparked low inside you.
“I can give you attention, and I can scrub that mouth clean if that’s what you really need,” Joel continued, “Just say the word, darlin’.”
“Fucker.” That was your word.
And it worked well enough for Joel.
In the next instant, he had you half-carried, half-dragged across the deck and thrown onto the table where you’d lost that dreaded game of stack. Solo cups still littering the surface, and puddles of beer soaking in through your dress, you made a sound of disgust and tried to thrust yourself up, just to fail. You squirmed and swatted at the man standing in front of you, who easily kept you pinned to the surface with one palm laid calmly on your belly.
He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and retrieved his lighter and cigarette pack.
“Someone could catch us,” you hissed, helpless, unsure of what else to say to show you weren’t giving in just yet.
Joel lit up in four seconds flat. He sucked in a breath.
“I roped off the stairs coming up,” he replied.
He what?
You moved back, slowly, on the surface when Joel worked a hand to his belt buckle, and you heard half a dozen plastic cups fall to the floor behind you.
You would not be his date’s sloppy seconds—ever.
Joel yanked at your thighs and pulled you back to be straddling his hips, shrugging his pants down; you couldn’t bear to keep looking when he lowered his briefs.
He took another drag and eyed you hungrily, happy to see you all sprawled out and pretty before him. The tight fabric of your dress had cinched over your hips and left you bare to just panties, making him grow even harder.
“Joel.”
He worked his dick out of his pants and moved the head to trail slow along the seam of your barely-clothed cunt. Even through the lace, he could feel how wet you were. He notched the tip at the space where your panties had parted just slightly to the side and felt your arousal pool even wetter around the end of his member. He grunted.
“Joel, I—”
“Daddy’s gonna give ya attention, sugar. Hold still.”
You couldn’t. Wouldn’t. You splayed your fingers over the hand that was trying to guide his cock into you and clenched your jaw—every carnal fibre in your being telling you not to do what you were about to try anyway.
“You fucked her didn’t you?”
Joel flicked the ash off his cigarette, “No.”
“You brought her here.”
“Had to.”
Your face was flushed and likewise flooded with smoke, curling slow from Joel’s lips before it painted the air an opaque, muddied grey above you. You wriggled your hips away from his, and for once, he didn’t try to stop you.
“I saw you tucking your shirt in. Tommy said you fucked!”
“Tommy’s about one fry short of a Happy Meal, honey,” Joel puffed once more, “He’s always sayin’ shit like that.”
Incredibly, he’d managed to use about a dozen funny words in that old Texas lilt and still say so little to actually answer your question. When the pinch in your brow told him you weren’t quite satisfied, Joel let out a sigh.
“Ash spilled pebre on my shirt. I had to change.”
Oh.
“And you—” you started.
“—have no fuckin’ right to know, one way or the other, because you’re the one who said we’d just ‘fuck and forget it,’ remember?” Joel interrupted, reminding you of your own curt words from your Bronco boning session.
Again, you tried to speak and found yourself spoken for, Joel carrying on as casual as ever as he sucked the last life-breath from his cig and stared you down, cynically.
“Your dad’s the one who made me bring her tonight. Said I seemed ‘down’ since the last gal I fucked wasn’t around—I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was his daughter—and here we are,” Joel smiled, wryly, and flicked his cigarette into the lake. You would’ve liked to tell him littering was a crime that trashed us all but refrained.
You were too busy staring at his lips, wondering why he hadn’t kissed you yet. You reckoned all the pea flinging, swearing, and swinging might’ve played a small part.
At length, Joel slid a new American Spirit out of its pack and wrangled you back to his hips as he lit up again.
“Happy?” he said, after a beat.
You weren’t sure whether to nod or cross your arms. Beckon him in with both hands or kick his bunched-up pants, belt, and boxer briefs away altogether and keep the bratty act going. You didn’t like being wrong.
At any rate, it didn’t matter. He’d called you on your bluff.
Still smoking, still smiling, still happy as a clam at high tide, Joel pressed his length straight up to your folds and watched you squirm on the wood underneath him.
“Gonna listen now?” he hummed.
“Uh-huh.”
Good, his wretchedly deep brown eyes seemed to say. Good that you were here, good that you were spread wide and supine beneath him, good that you’d gone all soft and pliable under his touch and were watching him now with a look that said you’d let him do just anything.
Good that he could fuck you.
Great that he wasn’t planning to—not fully, anyway.
Joel wasted no time taking your answer in the affirmative to slip past your panties and push deep inside your sweet cunt. When your walls stretched and cried all around him, he sighed and gripped your legs even tighter. He gritted the cigarette between his teeth and brought your ankles to rest over his shoulders, sinking in even deeper. Then he had to hold steady inside you and keep you flat on the table in front of him, and just when you whined to fuck me now, Joel, fuck me right now, daddy, please, he stilled. He took a big, long drag and didn’t move an inch.
He’d teach you some discipline one way or another.
“Joel, please,” you groaned again, hands bracing the table to start fucking up and down on his shaft, before he put a stop to that fast and held you firmly in place, “Please, Joel, I need you so fucking bad, daddy, please.”
Joel tapped his ash to the side and ignored your pleas.
He felt your walls contract around him and tried not to grunt. He focused instead on the smoke overhead.
“Wanna say that nicer?” he asked, deadpan. Then, staring expectantly down at you, while you flushed and struggled to stay still, “Keep that mouth a little cleaner?”
Fuck, did he have that father-figure tone down to a T.
You laid there before him and almost forgot his cock was wedged inside you for a second. He seemed so sincere.
“I wan— want you to move, daddy, I-I-I don’t know how else to say i— FUCK!” Your pussy spasmed around him when the tip of his pubic bone grazed your clit. That squeaky clean mouth of yours was nowhere to be seen.
“Mhmm,” Joel nodded anyway, pretending to be observing your behavior as he might for a clinical trial. Like he was testing a new drug, not his dick inside your cunt, practically clenching in Morse code around him.
“Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?”
You could. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he was buried so deep inside you seemed to be a far harder task than you could’ve ever expected, though.
Joel sensed it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leaned over your body and dug his hips even deeper—not thrusting, but still granting some modicum of friction. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulsed inside you like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes rolled back.
“Fucking shitsucking DICK BITCH CUNT! FUCK!”
Sounding every bit the uncouth novice in a COD lobby chat circa 2009, you knew you didn’t have the faintest hope of earning Joel’s strokes now. You hated yourself for it—and Joel, too, for subjecting you to such cruel and unusual punishment for just needing to fuck him hard.
You were desperate and heated. Five seconds away from yanking your sex off of his and going to town with your own fingers, you felt a palm press down on your tummy.
Damn Joel and his super-sized hands.
You could barely breathe, much less pry yourself off.
Joel was quiet and calm. Stuffing you full and puffing away at his cigarette the whole time. He smirked.
“Ain’t that difficult, honey,” he said, hardly losing his will or his sympathy when you shot a raw glance his way, “Stay still on this cock and ask daddy nicely, ‘s’all ya gotta do.”
He could tell by the look in your eyes you couldn’t stand to play nice—but needed to cum. He watched you swallow your pride, soften your eyes just a bit, and when you felt you might implode from all the feeling, whined,
“Please make me feel good, daddy, please, I need it.”
Joel breathed and eased back just an inch, lowering his hand to thumb softly at your clit. You keened.
“That’s my sweet girl.”
Still just rubbing that bundle and looking down while you came unraveled, Joel thought you perfectly sublime. He’d kill to keep you there like that, eyes rolling and skin soaking the table beneath you both in sweat and arousal. He stared down at the place your bodies were connected—a sliver of his cock visible and soaked with your juices—and he felt a wave of desire crest over his mind. Panting, quietly, he brought one hand to your hip and kept the other working furiously over your clit, trying to ignore the urge to rut inside you. It was self-discipline for him, too.
He wouldn’t let you know that yet, though.
He crushed the cigarette between his teeth and kept still.
“Ya like that, sugar? Like daddy stuffed inside this pussy, makin’ ya beg real pretty for me?” His husky Southern drawl ran like molasses off his tongue, thicker now when he was balls-deep and half-drunk off your cunt.
You watched his mouth, intrigued, and saw a long line of spit drip deliciously from those pretty, stubbled lips of his to your lower ones, making the spot more filthy and warm as your fluids mixed together. Still, Joel didn’t move a thing more than his thumb—but the sounds from you both were growing louder and more desperate.
The gentle squelch of spit, sweat, and arousal running all down your pussy, paired with those noises you made when you were feeling this good and squeezing him tight, was enough to send Joel straight over the edge. Now he didn’t have the strokes or any motion to focus on before him, just you—he flicked his cigarette away the second he sensed you were getting close yourself.
“Sweet little thing,” he cooed, still rubbing in circles, “How’s my baby feelin’?”
You clawed at the table beneath you and knocked your head back once or twice on the wood, humming a quick, ‘Good, daddy, good’ in the most hoarse and pathetic voice you’d ever used, and Joel smiled. You hadn’t cursed out loud in a minute and seemed to be taking his touches well. He’d have to give you some form of reward.
Gently, Joel pulled back and made a shallow thrust inside you. Both your body and his jolted with pleasure.
“FU—n stuff, fun stuff,” you hissed, trying hard to mask the expletive.
In truth, Joel was struggling too. Just one stroke inside you and that coil inside him was about ready to burst.
“Fun, huh?” he teased, keeping his motions down to quick pistons as he laid his palms flat on either side of your head, “Daddy make ya feel fun-ny, does he?”
“Yeah, he does, he— ah, SHIT right there, right there!”
Evidently, he’d found your G spot.
Joel stilled inside you as soon as the foul word escaped.
You whined. Loud. Almost tempted to burst into tears.
“Nononono, that doesn’t count, Joel! That doesn’t—” Your voice was shortly supplanted by a whimper when the man went back to thumbing your clit, hips rendered still once more and cock wedged deep inside your core.
“What’s it gonna take to make you behave for me, huh? Do I have to talk to your daddy again?” Joel seethed.
You shook your head quick and felt him circle your clit even harder, more punishing now. Your body craved the friction from his cock but could barely contain the words that were coming out now. You pinched your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm creeping closer and closer, and whimpered gently, desperately, ‘Fuckfuckfuuuuuck.’
Whether it came down to making terrible plays at stack cup or getting your clit torn apart by Joel’s thumb, you simply could not keep the filthy language at bay.
You weren’t going to listen, that much was clear.
Joel had no choice but to make you learn a different way.
So, prying his fingers and his cock from your cunt, he reached across for your hips instead—pulling you off of the table and pushing you down to the floor, at his feet.
He smoothed a palm over the top of your head and fisted your hair in one hand, his cock in the other, and brought his hot, swollen, slick-coated length within an inch of your face, stroking fast.
Your gaze flitted from the sight in front of you to Joel’s eyes, back and forth, stunned and in utter disbelief. As you felt your own climax crumble and recede from you at once, the sound jumped up your throat before you could stop,
“What the FUCK is your problem, Joel?!”
“There it is,” Joel just flared his nostrils as he jerked himself above you, “There’s that nasty fuckin’ mouth.”
He pulled your head even rougher and tipped your chin back to meet the scowl on his face. Pleasure had almost swallowed the man whole, yet his expression scarcely betrayed a trace of it, eyes cold and jaw clenched tight.
“If that mouth can’t be good for me, can it open real wide and show me how a dirty slut does it?”
You were beside yourself. Holding his gaze like a bomb might go off in his brain any second—something you’d be happy to see—you scowled as well. Begrudgingly, and knowing Joel wouldn’t ease off of this punishment until he’d made you pay for your language, you nodded.
“What’s’at?” Joel snapped, stroking himself even faster, “What do ya want me to do, sugar?”
You gritted your teeth and silently wished they were crushing his balls to powder between them.
“Want…you…to cum…on my face.”
“Little louder, sweet pea, can’t hear ya from up here.”
The sound of his palm working over his cock again and again, shimmery and slick with your arousal soaking it, was almost too much to bear. You watched, forlorn and silently boiling with rage as Joel stared down at you, as merciless as he’d ever been. Mocking, almost, it seemed.
“Want you to…cum on me, please.”
“One more time, darlin’,” Joel pressed, pupils blown wide with desire, “Be real sweet and say it one more time f—”
“I WANT YOU TO CUM ON MY FACE, YOU FUCKER.”
That sparked the first real smile on Joel’s lips you’d seen in a while, and then he was watching you cockily, nodding.
Before you could even think to blink, stand up, or storm off again, you felt a fat, sticky-wet glob of warmth hit your cheek. Then another. Then another. Then another. You winced and flinched back, but Joel held your head in place, in front of his cock, and gripped you firmly as he unloaded rope after rope of his cum all over your face.
By the time he was finished, your skin was glistening. Coated in the stuff and still blinking through strings of the hot, sticky mess as Joel stood over you, chest heaving fast as he pumped himself through his release.
Must be fucking nice.
When the downpour had slowed to a trickle, two thick fingers swiped at a dollop of cum on your cheek. Then, wordlessly, they moved down to your mouth.
“Open,” Joel commanded.
You’d barely parted your lips a quarter of an inch when he pushed both digits inside. Swirled them around in your mouth and made sure to cover every soft, wet contour and crevice before pulling out with a pop.
He wiped at your other spend-streaked cheek and repeated the action, plunging his fingers in and out of your mouth to make sure you cleaned him thoroughly. This was more of an act meant to tease than anything else, you knew, almost demeaning in the way he stood there and nodded his head while murmuring, ‘’Atta girl.’
You hated how much you liked that stupid show of dominance—and, even worse, how good he tasted.
Joel brushed your tongue with another fingerful and watched you bob your head in time. He hummed his approval and scanned your face for any spend left over.
There was a lot. He paused, as if considering something.
“Drop ‘em.” Joel motioned to the straps of your dress.
You did as he said and pulled both bands down at once. When your breasts spilled out of the fabric, you watched Joel lower his gaze and, fixating on the spot you’d just exposed to him, take two—no, three—careful fingers to collect the remainder of himself and spread it downward.
Joel took his cum and smeared it all over your tits.
He was equal parts meticulous, gentle, and gratuitous in doing so, and he took pleasure in every second.
With a heavy-lidded, glossy gaze trained unwaveringly on your chest, Joel rolled each nipple between forefinger and thumb and fell into a trance. Rubbed you up and down every inch he could find and groaned at the sight. Glazing your skin all over with him and savoring it.
You couldn’t deny the feeling of being marked in a way so degrading, dirty, and adoring at once had a dizzying effect on you, too. The look in his eyes, and the soft brush of his fingers, almost quelled your rage entirely.
Almost.
When Joel pulled your spaghetti straps back into place—and you, in turn, back onto your feet—you yanked away. Forcefully. While Joel straightened up, silently cursed his bad back, tucked his dick in his pants, and started to reach for your waist, you jabbed the fastest, fattest, fuck-your-whole-family middle finger in his face and took off.
“Honey—”
“Don’t.”
“But I—”
“Have some goddamn fucking nerve.”
You’d nearly made it to the staircase again, heels turning to start down the first steps, when Joel sidestepped at lightning speed and blocked off your passage. All you saw then was the front of a starch white dress shirt and a light patch of chest hair peeking out from the highest button, crowding your vision, moving in time with every manoeuvre you tried to make around him. He smelled like sweat and fresh citrus. Perhaps a hint of vengeance.
You wouldn’t meet his gaze when he grabbed your face. Tried to shrug him off when he made as if to pull you into a hug—‘Are you off your shit?! Are you?! People are right downstairs’—and Joel just smiled. Grinned like a jackass eating briars, about five times too smug for his own good, and drew you into his chest by gentle turns.
You weren’t sure why you recoiled when he kissed you.
Hell, you’d done it a dozen times before—albeit a bit more frantically, in a way to say ‘I need to fuck you’ when words just wouldn’t suffice—but this one was different. Deeper. Joel was gripping both sides of your face and still grinning as he kissed you, feeling your muscles slacken some and your frame meld gently into his.
You hated it.
“I missed you,” Joel murmured between kisses.
Hated him.
“How’s my baby been, huh?”
Oh, you know, just waiting. Hating you a little. Hoping we didn’t inadvertently create a baby ourselves, courtesy of your prehistoric condoms.
“I missed you.” Gently. Again.
You tensed in his hold when his lips trailed down to your neck. You felt a low flutter. It was like your feet had been glued to the floor and your tongue left wholly immobile; you let Joel caress, kiss, and whisper down your skin like every cell beneath his touch wasn’t seething en masse.
Your stolen climax. Broken condom. Close call with your father and Tommy. Radio silence ongoing for days.
You couldn’t wrap your head around any of it, or him, or how grossly inconsistent the man’s every move upon you now seemed to be with the way he’d acted all week.
Joel slowly descended your body.
“Like I said, honey…you fuck with my head,” he said soft against your dress, then your legs, then the space in between them.
“Makes two of us,” you grumbled back.
You braced your weight against the railing over the stairs just behind you when he slipped your panties to the floor. Then he tucked them snug into one of his back pockets and brought his face to your wet, aching core.
“Discipline doesn’t come easy, does it?” It sounded like something trapped between a question and a declarative coming out from the side of Joel’s mouth.
Fortunately for you, he didn’t try to clarify which of the two he meant, or do much else at all except eat your pussy from that point on. He kissed your thighs, gripped them tighter, then wedged his face between them while you held fast to the metal behind you. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your cunt.
You didn’t have to like the man to love what his mouth could do for you, you silently reminded yourself.
Love it you could—and would. Without shame.
Granted, you were still sensitive as all hell from your last almost-orgasm of the night, but Joel knew how to work his lips and tongue around it. He swiftly lapped between your folds, teased a finger at your hole, and wrapped his warm lips around your clit to suck once or twice, and you were damn near ready to spiral in seconds. You fisted the soft salt-and-pepper hair at the top of his head and rutted your hips in short, shallow motions against him.
“Good girl,” Joel crooned, welcoming each thrust with another swirl of his tongue, “That’s my sweet baby.”
“Joel.”
You traded expletives for the simple repetition of his name, not wanting the pleasure to stop. Joel hummed and sucked and held your legs around him even tighter.
You sighed, almost whined, and dug your fingertips into his scalp, feeling your climax building quick inside you.
Joel’s mouth was working faster, sucking harder, drawing smaller and crueler circles, lapping eagerly against your arousal and giving it everything he had, it seemed, to work you up to your release. He grunted when you yanked hard on his hair but didn’t stop.
In fact, the bastard just kept trying to talk you through it, fluid movements of his own tongue and lips be damned.
“Doin’ so damn good for me, sweet pea, keep goin’.” There was an apology in there somewhere, working hard to atone for the orgasm he’d denied you right before.
Four more flicks of his tongue and a gentle endeavor to pump his fingers in and out, again and again, right above that soft, spongy pad of pleasure deep inside had you teetering over the edge of a cliff.
You tore your gaze from Joel for a second, preparing for that sweet and lusty consummation, when your head turned to the side just slightly. You almost groaned.
Your own hot, flushed, and fucked-out reflection was the first thing to greet you in a sliver of a mirror on the wall. Just beneath you, as you could’ve expected, there was Joel—kneeling between your legs with his chin tipped up, beard coated in moisture and pleasure and warmth. You weren’t sure why the sight from this angle had such a strong effect, but something about the full view of your bodies in motion gave your stomach a pinch. A burn. You ogled the glass and made a sound audibly higher in pitch than a whimper as Joel suckled and tongued at your clit.
You came just like that—gripping the rails, fisting his hair, rutting your hips, and staring implacably at that mirror.
When Joel resurfaced, you were still fully transfixed.
Gawking at how fucking nice he looked between your thighs. How filthy it all was to be seated on his face and cumming for his tongue while the rest of your father’s dinner party mingled blissfully unaware downstairs.
When you saw Joel rise, you jerked your head back.
You weren’t sure why it felt like being caught, but it did.
Just as you began to murmur some half-assed apology his way, you felt hands on your hips and a rock-hard bulge at your rear as Joel spun you round in front of him.
He shoved you flush against the mirror so your tits were pressed up to the glass. He gave you a quick once-over.
Slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders and shimmied the fabric down your chest, once again.
With your breasts splayed out in front of you and your hands pressing hard on the mirror—as if letting up the slightest bit might send you straight through it—you tried to crane your neck. You felt the sticky squelch of cum and fresh spit painted over your chest, muddying up the glass with every movement you made. Your chin dug deep in your shoulder as you cocked your head to the left, eyes searching for Joel’s behind you.
You heard the clink of a belt, followed by a rustle of fabric. Then a hand slamming close beside your head on the mirror, while another worked industriously to free his cock from the confines of his trousers once more.
“Joel,” you breathed, still tender from your climax.
“Hm?”
He was gruff as he rubbed and smacked your bare ass with his cock. Let it rest on the soft, fleshy shelf between you two and teased his length over that space.
“Did someone take his little blue pill today?” you teased.
“Fuck off.” You saw a flicker of a smirk in the mirror.
No way Joel Miller was getting a full-fledged erection twice in the same ten minute span. That shit didn’t happen outside the realm of porn flicks and a woman’s wildest fantasies when it came to men Joel’s age. He knew it just as well as you but tried to feign indifference when he pressed the head of himself to your folds. He did, however, suck in a breath at the new sensation.
He could do this.
He could cockwarm you raw, tonguefuck your cunt, ravage and render you all but brainless on the surface of that mirror, and still have the wits about himself to take another breath. He could show those shit-for-brains college boys he’d been battling for days in the depths of his mind how much better he could fuck you than them.
Really, Joel was just manifesting at this point.
He hadn’t busted a nut and fucked this quick since Bill Clinton had been in office. All hat and no cattle whatsoever for this pussywhipped cowboy.
“Better hope I go easy on ya, sugar.”
“Best believe I won’t.” You would’ve winked if you weren’t so bone-crushingly aroused and fresh off your peak.
Joel had just chuckled, more than a touch nervous, and began rubbing your warmth to coat himself in it—angling his slightly apprehensive penis up to your cunt when you straightened some. Rather than keep your tits to the mirror, you chose to press your back against him, ass snug to his front and eyes roaming wildly over the reflection of your two forms. Both of you flinched when the head of his cock hitched around your entrance.
Joel’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat just over your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your skin.
“Gotta be the sweetest thing I ever seen,” he whispered into your ear. Meeting your gaze in the mirror and lifting his hips just so before breaching your folds.
He hoped you’d take it for sweetness and not just a vicious strain of anxiety or weakness as he prepared for the first thrust. He’d need a second, a minute—maybe a goddamned hour, if he was being real honest. You were too damn pretty to be fucked by a two-pump chump.
Joel nudged his nose against your ear and tried to stall. Pausing a beat.
“Never been humped and dumped before, yaknow.”
Wait—the fuck?
That came out wrong.
You cocked a brow and tilted your hips. You didn’t seem keen on talking but had no choice but to humor him.
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” you hummed.
Joel balked at his own stupidity, trying, and failing, to remove his foot from his mouth and remedy his words.
“I mean, I— I get it,” he returned, too fast for his liking, “I’m no texter myself, I just…thought, uh, maybe—”
“Miller. Spit it out.”
Your body was all but leaking arousal before him and the man was trying to divert the conversation to…phones?
Joel winced.
Felt his member deflate with embarrassment just a bit.
NO! No. No. Just…fuck. Stay hard. Please, stay hard.
He’d done it to himself. Tried to hamper sex for a second too long just to give his dick a fighting chance at survival and ended up mucking things up supremely. Per usual.
“You never texted me back.” He sounded blunt now. Rushed.
Joel watched you raise both eyebrows.
“Texted you back?” you scoffed.
“Yeah…texted, called, snipchatted, whatever.”
Your face didn’t change despite the glaring Gen X error.
“You never texted me, Joel!”
What?
Suddenly, the dick wedged between your legs and hovering over your cunt seemed to be the last thing either of you could be bothered to worry about.
“I’ve…been texting you all week. Called a few times too.”
“Like hell you have. You ghosted me and went off the grid this whole fuckin’ week—Tommy said so, too.”
Joel cringed again to hear his brother’s name brought up in this context and shook his head. You were wrong.
“512-867-5309. Been trying to talk to you all goddamn week, see how you were, and you never responded,” he said, indignation creeping into his tone against his will.
At last, your expression dropped.
From furious to frowning to just fucking annoyed. Your lips were drawn tight in a line across your face.
“My number is 512-867-5305, dipshit.”
“Huh?”
“5 at the end, not a 9.”
“…No.”
“Yeah…”
Shit.
Joel Miller had made his fair share of flubs in his life, but fucking up the phone number of his best friend’s daughter whose pussy he’d accidentally cum inside the week before seemed almost criminal. Too fucking asinine and rookie-level dense to ever recover from. He blinked.
“Thought you…hated my fuckin’ guts,” he confessed.
You threw your hands up in disbelief, frustration. Fury.
“I do— believe me, I do,” you snapped, “But not for that.”
‘That’ meaning the last time you two bumped uglies. Joel wasn’t sure whether to take heart or step back.
“What’s’at mean?” he asked.
You pushed your feet a little further apart on the floor and pressed back into Joel. He took that as a decidedly good sign and reached for your hip. Then took his cock, again, which had invariably twitched and swelled up at the smallest motion from you.
“Means we’ve got plenty of reasons to hate each other, but fuckin’ ain’t one of ‘em,” you shrugged, angling your ass in the perfect place for penetration. Joel was just about back to full-mast and buzzing as you spoke, “I can get over the whole…old dude taboo—you being dad’s friend and all—I just couldn't stand the thought of you leaving me in the lurch when shit got weird at the end.”
‘Weird’ meaning risky. Virulent. Damn near catastrophic if it ever came to be that one of Joel's swimmers had latched onto one of your eggs and knocked you up. The fear of pregnancy, and every bloodcurdling, awkward conversation to ensue, had been amplified tenfold by the thought that Joel didn't even care one way or the other and couldn't be bothered to text, call, or otherwise show that he didn't totally regret what you'd done in his car. You could handle a clean break, but leaving it on such uncertain terms had been torture. At length, you sighed.
Joel was nosing behind your ear now, a bit less tense.
A little more laid-back and warm this time around, as he, like you, had gotten to exhale a breath of relief realizing that neither of you had deliberately tried to fuck the other over, or ghost, just yet. You'd been pissed at him all night, and he'd been busy barraging a perfect stranger somewhere in Austin with strings of texts and calls all week, but the two of you were ultimately OK. For now.
“But you still hate me, huh?” Joel spoke low against your skin and felt you soften just a little.
You nodded, careful not to slacken too much.
“Mhmm.”
Now Joel was almost glad to have taken that brief, heated detour, because his dick had made a complete comeback and was aching to tease you some more. He grabbed the base of his length and slotted it slow as ever between your folds. Rolled his hips forward and pushed you both a little closer to the mirror. One of your hands flew up to steady yourself, and Joel’s hand followed. He laid his palm over the back of yours and pressed in.
“It’d be a real shame if you do,” he said, smirking as he notched the tip of his cock just within the tight ring of muscles at the groove of your cunt, “For a second there I was starting to think you might’ve liked fucking me, too.”
In the next second, Joel was easing inside you. Feeling you arch into the motion and grabbing hold wherever he could across your front, he pulled you into his chest and felt a streak of coarse pleasure lick up the full length of his spine. Your walls were squeezing him in a brand new way, a novel position, and he was starting to fear there wasn't any place he could fuck you that wouldn't send him veering for release within his first two strokes inside.
He bucked his hips a little something like an amateur, he thought, getting used to taking you like this. You were moaning, holding his fingers between your own atop the mirror as you squeezed your pussy tight around his cock, and he hoped that meant you hadn't minded the few stuttered, desperate strokes he'd delivered at first.
“I love…fucking you, Joel,” you seethed at last.
Then, wordless as it was pointed, finding his gaze in your reflection, ‘I still hate you, Miller. There’s a difference.’
He slammed into your ass and quickly got the sense that you liked it this fast—loving, lusting, or despising him otherwise. Almost needed it a bit frantic and rapid-fire when he was fucking you from the back, he reckoned.
Joel looked you in the eye from his view behind you in the mirror and saw it clear as day. He almost grinned.
You were wildly fucked out and in need of quick release.
For once in his life, he could oblige you on that, easy.
He slid his cock in and out, rutting much quicker than he ever thought you’d want it, and he grunted. Slipped a hand between your thighs and felt you pulse around him, involuntarily, when his fingers found your clit. He could tell by that grip, and those febrile little whimpers, that you were loving this just as much as him and probably were as close, if not closer, to a new, shuddering climax.
Joel plunged deep inside your cunt and drew you closer.
Taking your throat in one hand, he nudged your body into the glass and smirked, drunk with the feel of you.
“Ya like it when I fill this pussy, huh? Love feeling me deep inside this needy little hole?” he murmured, slow and taking care to draw out the syllables in each word.
You nodded that you did. Rocked your hips back to meet his thrusts and moaned.
“I love it, daddy,” you managed weakly, “Love it so much.”
The fingers at your clit increased in speed, and Joel rutted into you even harder, relishing the soft squelch between your bodies as he moved. Then he reached for a fistful of your hair and, instead of pulling back like he might normally have done, he pushed in. He pressed your face in the mirror, turned to the side, and pistoned his hips even faster. Felt your moans spill out across the glass and mix with his own, and he couldn’t help but let a raw, primal impulse take over his thrusts—and tongue.
“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises, y’know that?” Joel breathed, hunched over and close to your ear.
Before you could so much as acknowledge his praises, bob your head, or moan in response, he shifted the hand in your hair again. This time turning your face toward the mirror, he brought your lips within inches of the glass and made you watch him fuck you, again and again.
You trailed your gaze over your full reflection and almost whined out loud, ripe with desire and ready to cum just seeing how good he looked as he took you from behind.
With his brow furrowed, pupils blown, hair a fucking mess, lips parting slightly with the strain of every grunt and moan, and hips rolling repeatedly, furiously into your own, Joel looked about as handsome as you thought you’d ever seen him. You felt the soft nudge of his tummy behind you, the tightened grip on your hip and in your hair, and within seconds, you were nearly there.
“My pretty. fuckin’. girl—” Joel managed through gritted teeth, each word punctuated with a thrust, “—and her pretty. fuckin’. moans.” Then, bringing his beaming, sweaty expression right next to yours in the mirror, “Ready to cum for me, pretty girl?”
You curled your toes into the floor and nodded, slotting your fingers through his own when he planted a hand above you again,
“So— so close, daddy.”
Joel squeezed your fingers back. Kept your faces damn near side-by-side in the mirror and relished the marked change in your features when he grazed that spot inside. You let out the filthiest, fuckdrunk moan and didn’t need another stroke—you came around his cock with a tight, pulsing spasm, seizing his hand, rocking your hips back into his hard as the pleasure washed over your body.
Joel’s cock absorbed every last delicate throb, hot and heavy enough to send the man spiraling himself. He braced his front tight against your body and kept fucking you through your release, groaning a vicious, desperate bout when he felt that deep-seated urge to spill his seed.
Fuck. He’d have to pull out. Now.
Just as his own climax was close at hand—close as he could ever, or should ever feel it while still inside you—Joel reached down for your hip to pull out and cum all over your ass, but he was brought to a stop. Swiftly.
To his surprise, it was you pulling off of him—sliding off his cock and dropping to your knees as if to take him in your mouth.
Thank fuck.
Joel grabbed his dick as quick as he possibly could and moved to start stroking himself over your face, when your hand closed around his own. Stopping him. Again.
You grinned.
Feeling the slightest twinge of retributive pleasure at seeing him like this, just like he’d had you, your smile stretched even bigger. Joel could’ve wept at the sight.
You brought your lips to his cock and grazed it, barely.
“Wanna try something fun?”
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He knew better than to let a moan slip at a time like this.
Not when he was sitting at the dinner table; not when he was surrounded by the people he knew and loved the most. Not when he was celebrating his best friend’s fifty-first birthday, and certainly not when that man’s daughter was currently perched between his thighs, out of sight from every eye at the party but his.
Joel lifted the tablecloth. He almost came on the spot.
This was your idea of ‘fun.’
Payback by any other name would’ve smelled as sweet.
Seeing your mouth open wide and your lips curled tight around his hot, throbbing member, Joel couldn’t help but ache for reprieve, or else a split-second lapse of judgment—one where he forgot all sense of decorum and simply went to town on that pretty little face of yours. But, as it was, the rest of the party was totally oblivious to your absence, and he didn’t want to draw attention to it, or him, by roughfucking your mouth.
That would come later.
No, now he would let you glide your mouth gently over his shaft, leaving trails of thick spit and hints of a shiny pink lip gloss in its wake. He’d let you bob your head softly—self-assured in a pace you got to set—and he wouldn’t lay a finger on your face or let a thrust of his get in the way, because this was all about you giving him the pleasure. Maybe making him squirm just a little, too.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t steal a glimpse every now and then and pin you with an expectant look when he wanted something done his way. The room was dimly lit and everyone in it drunk; Joel would gladly take the risk.
‘You can go deeper than that, sweet pea.’
‘Nope, three-fourths ain’t enough, I need your mouth around me whole.’
‘You did wanna make daddy feel good, didn’t ya, sugar?’
He didn’t have to speak a word of it out loud for you to know what he meant. What he needed. You loosened your jaw and stretched your lips even wider, whining just a little when the head of his cock grazed your tonsils.
“Fuck that feels nice,” Joel said aloud.
You froze.
Then, without missing a beat, you heard him continue just as comfortably, speaking to the people around him,
“Y’all feel that breeze comin’ in?”
Sick fuck. You continued to suck him anyway.
One hand braced tight against Joel’s leg and the other moved shamelessly between your own, and you tried not to moan, but the sound escaped anyway. No one heard it, but Joel felt it reverberate down his shaft, and he gripped his glass of Merlot like a vice. Your dad shot him a curious look from across the table but said nothing.
“Can’t get enough’a her, huh?” Tommy grinned beside him.
“What?” Joel faltered. Set his drink aside carefully.
Down below, you dragged your mouth just far enough to take his tip between your lips and suckle. Joel grunted.
“The wine,” Tommy said, still smiling, “You must love it.”
Joel let out another strangled breath that he tried to pass off as a chuckle and nodded.
“Got me on my fuckin’ knees,” he admitted.
And that was the truth. Starved for air and blinking through tears as you knelt down to blow him, it was still you with the chokehold on Joel, and both of you knew it.
Try as you might to convince yourselves otherwise, the man was enrapt. Too spellbound to turn down your offer of sucking him dry under the dinner table just minutes after he’d almost cum all over your face, Joel was in it, and he was in it deep. It was just that small matter of you being his best friend’s daughter that made him loath to admit it. At any rate, he had your tongue licking strips up his cock and felt a sudden, sharp clench in his stomach.
He knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Neither would you.
Joel couldn’t see it then, but you’d practically soaked your own hand from how hard you’d been rubbing your clit—ignoring his orders not to touch yourself there—so turned on from just sucking his dick and needing to feel relief while you selflessly, secretly pleased him beneath the table. While Joel reached for another draught of wine, you brought one hand to his balls and kept the other at your cunt, triple-tasking like the efficient little slut he needed you to be: sucking, cupping, and rubbing all at once to get the two of you off in one minute or less.
You guided him down to the furthest place in your throat, then pushed him even deeper. You gagged just slightly and felt a hand reach down for your cheek. A thumb began to rub at the tears welled up at the corners of your eyes.
‘Sweet thing hasn’t felt a man this deep before, huh? Wanna swallow some more?’
You nodded that you did. Couldn’t actually hear him now, or see much else besides the soft tufts of hair on his belly, but you could feel a light, heady warmth seep into your brain.
You rutted your hips and just hoped no one dropped a fork nearby. Bucked desperately into your hand and felt the heat start to swell to a whole new feeling, and suddenly you were whimpering, whining on Joel’s cock from under the shade of the table and cumming all over your fingers.
Joel returned a quick smile from your father and cracked a joke about the Super Bowl. Raised his hips just the slightest bit and wiped one of your tear-soaked cheeks.
‘Almost there, hon, keep that throat open for daddy.’
All you could do was cry and try your best. Wild feelings from both the slow, deep facefuck he was giving you and the flurry of euphoric aftershocks coursing all throughout your body made it almost impossible to bear, but you obeyed your sweet and strong and steady-handed Joel and sensed a blossoming desire crop up for something else.
You wanted to taste him as he blew his load in your mouth, flooded your tongue with his spend, and painted every inch of your insides with that hot, sticky stuff.
You needed him whole.
Your Joel.
In tune with your thoughts—or perhaps just overcome with a need to see you before he reached his peak—Joel raised the tablecloth the slightest bit when Tommy wasn’t looking. His gaze locked on yours, and his tongue darted quick between his lips. He cocked a brow. Brushed his thumb again and looked down as if to say,
‘Ya want this, darlin’? Want all of me?’
You gave a soft nod, and that was all he needed.
No sooner had you given him the green light than his cum went pulsing out in ropes, coating your throat and eventually your whole mouth as you held still and took it all.
There was so much more than you thought. So much of Joel that had been waiting to give your mouth a proper fucking glaze that once he’d started he just couldn’t stop. Above the table, your dad shot a pointed look in his direction—‘You good, man?’—and it took every ounce of strength in Joel’s body to grit his teeth tight and nod.
He’d filled so much of your mouth it was spilling out.
You tried to hold steady, keep your movements extra slow. You’d heard your dad’s voice and just knew there’d be a lot more on the line than Joel’s dribbling seed if either one of you fucked up now. Your breath caught in your chest, and you felt too afraid to even swallow.
“I just…came,” Joel started, and your head almost cracked on the wood surface from how abruptly you flinched back,
“—to the realization—”
“—that you…are so…motherfuckin’ old, my friend.”
Your father’s laugh was the first you heard, followed by Tommy, his friends, and a dozen other party guests.
The next thing you felt, to your complete and utter shock, was Joel’s cock brushing your cheek. Then your lips. Then your tongue. He slid his still-hard member through the ‘o’ your mouth had made in awe and started to move in gentle motions back and forth, like a man all but aching to get a feel for your wet, sodden walls.
A man who couldn’t risk a glimpse now, but wanted more than anything to see the mouth he’d just filled.
Your father’s words hadn’t even cooled in the air.
Joel Miller, you sneaky, freaky fuck.
As the laughter subsided, and Tommy scooted back in his chair to take leave of your table, you felt a spark ignite. Whether it was yours or Joel’s or both your perverted minds suddenly alight and insane with the same thought, you couldn’t be sure, but you could make out the sound of a tablecloth flipping back up above you.
Joel slipped his dick out of your mouth and grinned. Took a firm hold of your face under the table so his fingers were coaxing your jaw to unhinge before him.
It was the lowest, slowest, menacing sort of sound you’d ever heard from him before, but it was his all the same.
Speaking to you now, softly, “Show daddy, darlin’.”
You thought you might like to see him that way forever.
Eyes honey-soft and glazed, thumb toying at your lip. Chest heaving up and down in time to your own breaths and growing ragged as you opened your mouth to him. He was sated and somehow unfulfilled—a bottomless pit of raw prurience as he stared down and held your gaze. Hair tousled, pants unbuckled, cock resting comfortably against your cheek, the man looked wonderfully undone and half in love with your sweet face peering up at him.
You couldn’t deny you loved doing this, too.
You’d just wished he saw Tommy before Tommy saw you.
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rafesslxt · 4 months
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✧.* 𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 | 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃
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જ⁀➴ your best friends get a hint of how sexually frustrated you are and offer their help
: ̗̀➛ nsfw, smut, teasing, making out, nicknames, cheating with Tom, fingering, oral on female, p in v unprotected, nipple sucking
「 ✦ Mattheo, Tom, Theodore, Enzo, Draco, Pansy ✦ 」
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Mattheo:
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❥ It didn‘t took him long to notice something‘s wrong. You two sit together in potions, currently making a new potion. Normally you two would laugh and banter all the time, teasing each other but you were so quiet today and didn‘t even look at him
❥ "Y/n, is everything alright?" he asks and puts his hand on your shoulder, drawing a little whine from you. His eyebrows knitted and he took a step back, scanning you whole. He just then noticed your flushed cheeks, flustered expression, your thighs pressed together and your bottom lip between your teeth. You were turned on.
❥ He wanted to test his theory a little and started to prepare the ingredients for the potion in front of you two. He flexed his arms a little, knowing you liked his hands because you once told him when you two were drunk. He saw your hungry gaze at his hands, making him smile to himself.
❥ "Here, chop up the root. Can you do that for me, doll?" He softly breathed against your face, coming dangerous close to you. The nickname gave you visible shiver‘s, just feeding right into his ego. He had a crush on you since forever but never actually had the balls to tell you.
❥ After class was over and you guys were free he pulled you with him to his dorm. "M-mattheo what are you doing?" you wondered but followed him. He closed the door behind you and grabbed you by your hips, pushing you against the door. A gasp left your lips and you looked at him like a deer in the lights.
❥ "Care to tell me why you‘re so .. on edge?" Thats when you finally let everything out. You broke up with your boyfriend and the reason was simple: He couldn't fuck. Mattheo had to hold back a laugh at your outburst of emotions. "It's not funny! It's so frustrating you can't even imagine!"
❥ "Want me to help you? You know.. like a best friend would." he offers you with a smug smirk on his face. You thought he was joking until he had you trembling and shaking under him. He hit every corner and touched every part of your skin that was untouched by your ex-boyfriend. "What are friends for huh?" he moaned when you clenched around him, your nails digging into his back when your orgasm came nearer. Let's just say, you never ever had to fear bad sex again.
Tom Riddle:
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❥ You and your best friend Tom sat together in the library when no one was there anymore, thank‘s to Tom‘s charm and good reputation. It all started with your leg bouncing the whole time until Tom send you an annoyed glare which made you stop immediately.
❥ But it continued with your sighing. It got so distracting that at one point Tom slapped his book down onto the table so hard that you flinched. "Please tell me why you‘re sighing like a hurt puppy the whole damn time."
❥ You really considered telling him but you were kind of shy when talking about things like that. On top if that Tom already hated your boyfriend and you didn‘t want to give him another reason to add to the list. "Nothing, just.. tired."
❥ Tired my ass was what Tom thought. He knew you were lying so he had to try a different way. It didn‘t took him long to get inside your head with his new found skill ' Legilimency'
❥ "He told you what?!" Tom suddenly shouts at you. "What?" you asked him confused. "He told you that when you asked him for some foreplay?" He didn‘t even tried to hide the fact that he read your mind. "Tom! Stop going through my head all the damn time!" "Did he seriously tell you it‘s not worth the time?"
❥ He scoffs when you tell him the whole thing that happened with your boyfriend. "No wonder you‘re that sexually frustrated." "Excuse me?" "Come on. All the sighing and leg bouncing the whole time? Your body needs release." He said in a monotone voice like he talked about the weather. "Well – it‘s not that easy Tom." "It is. Let me help you."
❥ Since he could read your mind it made no sense to even try and deny the excitement that went through your body at his offer. He had you laying all spread out for him on the library desk in front of him. Books and notes all over the place and even floor. Your skirt got pushed up to your stomach and his fingers skillfully played with your throbbing clit.
❥ "Look at that. How could this not be worth anyone‘s time hm?" Tom muttered while sucking on your nipples, switching every minute between them while pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit until you came around his digits. And that waw just the beginning of a whole night of foreplay.
Theodore Nott:
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❥ That‘s exactly how your best friend looks at you when he overhears you talking to Pansy, telling her, you haven‘t slept with someone in so long that you would do abything for dick now. Obviously it was a joke. But obviously Theo wouldn’t be Theo If he didn‘t already formed a plan in his head.
❥ Teasing was the keyword. And patience. Theo‘s plan was to tease you little by little over days to get a reaction out of you.
❥ First day he brushed past you every here and there with his hips pushing slightly against you and his hands on your hips. It made your whole head spin and you tried to calm down, seeing him smiling at you innocently.
❥ The second day was just as simple. The whole day he whispered into your ear, laughing, joking, asking things about the class you two were having right now. And with every whisper he brushed his lips against your ear lobe or shell, his warm breath hitting your skin and leaving goosebumps behind.
❥ On the third day he got a bit bolder. When you started bouncing your leg or fidgeting with your fingers, he would put his hand on your thigh. High. He said "It‘s to calm you down a little bit cara mia." His big hands squeezing your flesh and his fingers stroking your desperate skin.
❥ Day four you and all your friends sat in the common room on the couch by the fireplace. You sat next to Theo of course, sharing a blanket since it‘s cold due the late night. At some point he had you leaning against his chest with his arms around you. While you lazily listened to Draco telling ya‘ll a story, Theo‘s finger started to dance over your slighty exposed skin on your stomach. Your shirt mist have rosen up a little under the blanket. You sucked in a breath, trying not to melt right there in front of everyone.
❥ Day five and six were the hardest because he completely neglected you. He talked to you but never stood beside you or sat next to you in class or lunch. It drove you literally crazy. Why would he do this to you? He didn‘t even hug you. But you also couldn‘t ask him because how would that sound? 'Hey Theo why don‘t you touch me anymore?' No thanks.
❥ Day seven was when you actually broke. "Theo, we need to talk, please." You practically dragged him away from the rest of your friends to your‘s and Pansy‘s room. "How can I help you principessa?" he asked with a smug smile on his face. "Touch me." was all you blurted out. He raised his eyebrows and looked surprised at you. "What?" "Touch me Theo, please. I - I can‘t concentrate anymore when you‘re not near me."
❥ Well – what was supposed to be innocent touching and stroking, ended with you on your belly on your bed with Theo behind you, pounding his cock into your pussy. "Everytime from now on that you feel like this, you come to me, capito?"
Lorenzo Berkshire:
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❥ You and Enzo were best friends since you could remember. You two have gone through everything together. Break-up‘s, first heartbreak, fighting with parents, puberty, seeing each other naked by accident, literally everything.
❥ You two were so close that nobody even questioned it when you were cuddling under a blanket in the common room late at night while your friends talked about how unfair the quidditch game today was.
❥ "Did you use that peach-shampoo again?" he whispered into your ear when you layed down on his chest and your hair was right under his nose. You looked up at him and nodded with a smile, knowing it was his favorite. He sighs when he inhales it and wraps his arms around you, his fingers playing with the hem of your little crop top.
❥ Enzo was so concentrated at sonething Theodore told the group, that he didn‘t notice how he started to play with the top of her skirt, his fingers gliding under it so innocently. When you noticed you stopped breathing for a second, glanzing up at your best friend who didn‘t seem to notice what he was doing.
❥ At first it was okay but after ten more minutes, you felt yourself getting restless in his arms and shifted every now and then in his lap. You felt yourself get slowly turned on from his little touch. With his second hand he started to stroke your thigh mindlessly, not realizing how your cheeks started to get red and your pussy wet. You pressed your lips together.
❥ Then it happened. Your hips grinded against his lap out of the pleasure and desperation you felt. He froze immediately and stopped moving his hands and fingers. He gulped and looked down at you, your heavy eyes already looking up at him when you grinded against him again boldly.
❥ He swallowed down a moan when your ass grinded against his crotch. "What are you doing baby?" The nickname send shivers down your spine together with his raspy voice against your ear. "I think – I think I need out friendship to go to the next level." You breathed out. You saw him biting his lips when his hands startet moving again. One hand continueing massaging your thigh while the other slipped down into your underwear and went straight to your slick folds.
❥ "Shit you‘re soaked." he breathed when he dipped his finger into your wet pussy, teasing your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked up and you tried to be as quiete as possible so your friends around you wouldn‘t notice. Right when you were about to come around his fingers, he pulled them away, your eyes going wide.
❥ You glared up at him with a desperate look in your eyes and rosy cheeks. He licked his fingers clean when no one watched and smirked down at you. "Don‘t worry baby, you‘re gonna come around something way bigger."
Draco Malfoy:
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❥ "Draco?" "Yes, y/n?" You currently were in his room at the malfoy manor due holiday‘s and since his parents really liked you – good reputation and behavior, pure blood family and a lot of money – they never had a problem with you over. The complete opposite was the case. They often hoped you two would be more than best friends some day.
❥ "Can you remember when you told me you would do anything for me?" You asked him with your voice cute and hopeful. "No.. but go on." You roll your eyes at his answer but go on like he said.
❥ "Well, there is something that you could do for me that I think you would enjoy too." you said carefully. His eyebrows rose up and he looked at you curious now. "Oh yeah and what would that be, doll?" That‘s the nickname he used on you everytime you asked him for a favor.
❥ Now or never, right? "I - I want you.. tofuckme." His eyes go wide and his jaw fell to the floor. "What did you just say?" he asks slowly, not sure If he understood right. "I said Iwantyoutofuckme." He stood up and walked over to you, grabbing you by your chin. "Y/n.. tell me slowly what you said or I swear – " "I want you to fuck me, Draco."
❥ His lips crashed into yours just a second later, pushing you down on his bed. You kissed him vack, more confused than he was. "Are you- aren‘t you gonna ask why I want this so suddenly?" you gasp when he starts sucking on your neck and his fingers already opening your jeans.
❥ "Fuck no, you can tell me afterwards. I don‘t care." he breathes before he throws all of your clothes all over his room and fucks you into his mattress for the whole night.
❥ After you two were done he pulled you against his chest, still breathing heavily. "And? What was the reason?" he asked out of breath. "Well uh – I broke up with Colin. He just couldn‘t make me happy in and outside the bedroom so .. I wanted to ask you to help me since ai felt so.. worked up." He chuckled deeply and pulled you even closer. "Told you he‘s a loser.." you roll your eyes at his comment. "You‘re mine bow, hope you know that."
Pansy Parkinson:
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❥ "Pansy, can I ask you something?" you asked your best friend. You two shared a dorm together and sat currently in front of the tv you had bought for the two if you. Her new favorite show "baby" was playing. It was a italian show and she loved learning new languages. "Of course, what‘s wrong?" "Why has something to be wrong?" "Y/n.. you never ask to ask something.. only when something is wrong."
❥ You had to smile a little at her answer and rolled your eyes playfully. "Since you‘re sleeping with boys and girls.. I wanted to ask you.. do you enjoy going down on girls?" Pansy looks at you surprised. "Why are you asking me that? This isn‘t coming from no where."
❥ I sigh and look at my hands. "Uhm – Brody said he doesn‘t like it and it .. freaks him out." I tell her what my boyfriend told me. Her eyes go wide and she almost shouts at me, "He said what?!" "Can you please just answer me Pansy?"
❥ She sighs and looks at my fidgety hands. "Of course I enjoy it and what kind of man is he that he says something like that to you?" "Is it possible that maybe it‘s.. me? That something is wrong with me and not him? Maybe it looks weird or-" "Y/n stop. I promise you nothing is wrong with you love."
❥ "But you can‘t know that Pans.." "Do you want to try?" Now you are the one who looks at her in shock. "You would ?" "Yeah but only If you‘re comfortable with it of course. I know that you only have been with boys." Your cheeks heated up a little at the thought of doing something so intimate with your best friend. You two have talked about that one time and Pansy knew how open you were to trying it someday with a woman too.
❥ Let‘s just say from there on you never questioned yourself again. "Pansy I - that‘s do good." You let out a whinper, your habds going through her hair. "Hmm such a pretty girl. You‘re doing so good love." She praised you, smiling to herself. She would have a lot of fun with you in the future.
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let me know If you liked it 🫶🏻 and sorry if pansy‘s part is so short but i ran out of time, ideas and i never wrote for her before 🤍
taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @cardi-bre91 @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @auxcordlawd @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis
My masterlist and taglist 🤍
xoxo sarah <3
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enhagvrl · 24 days
Text
en- making you upset
a/n : first re- upload!! don't panic if you've already read this lol. it's me only. the second part will be posted soon. enjoy <33
heeseung
“ Well I’d be damned if my girlfriend was actually as crazy as people call her to be.” 
You have always been a quiet kid, keeping to yourself most of the time. But someone managed to watch you get into a fight with a stranger on the street. You were simply trying to defend yourself from being harassed by some perverted stranger when you kicked them too hard in the side of their stomach and broke one or two ribs.
Since then rumours had been going around the campus that you were a brutal person who beat up people which made you the target of other people’s gossip and just messed up your whole school life.
But at that time, Heeseung was the only one who really did not give in to those rumours -  he hung out with you and made you feel all sorts of giddy feelings you have never experienced with anyone else before. 
But right now was not the case, as you were left alone in your thoughts about Heeseung, maybe believing all those rumours about you too.
“ Baby, you okay?” heeseung asked, voice laced with concern over the sudden quiet atmosphere which took over the room within 5 seconds
“ huh? Yes? Yeah. I’m okay. Sorry, what were you saying?” you asked, your voice devoid of any sort of emotion which made heeseung wonder if he said something wrong.
“No you went quiet all of a sudden so just got worried. What’s on your mind? Tell me.” Hee said, turning his whole body towards you to make it known that you have his entire attention now. 
Not being able to take in the sudden change in the atmosphere, and the unawareness of heeseung to the effect his words had on you, you muttered a quick “ sorry. I’ll be back.” and rushed out of the house leaving behind a confused heeseung who did not get a chance to run after you.
jay
“ as if anyone would be willing to listen to your constant chatter” 
You were the chatterbox friend who never knew of a surprise or event, until you were at the place. This led you to have trust issues with everyone and also be insecure about yourself. Over the years, you practised how to keep your mouth shut and not start yapping at any given occasion. That’s when you met Jay, the only person who never hated you for yapping his ears out - he was always sitting there with a small smile on his face listening to every single word coming out of your mouth. You always thought he was the one for you, and that he loved your continuous random talks. But now you were doubting that, that maybe you had been annoying him all this time and he did not want to tell you that just to not hurt your feelings.
You got quiet as you continued stirring the soup, and the sudden silence did not go unnoticed by Jay. He gave you a side eye trying to figure out what happened, but seeing your expressionless face he just concluded that you were trying to focus on cooking. 
Later that evening, both your guys' parents came over for a monthly catch up and meeting with each other. The night went very quickly, with everyone enjoying the evening with each other - everyone except you. Jay was quick to catch on though, noticing you had not uttered 10 proper words since you guys were preparing the dinner. 
After your parents said their goodbyes for the night, the house again went quiet - the both of you cleaning up. Jay tried coming close to you but you would only get away from him to throw away the garbage or clean up some soup stain on the table.
“Baby, is something bothering you? You have not even opened your mouth for the last three hours. You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m always ready to hear you out.” he said, blocking your way by standing in front of you and trapping you in a corner.
You could only scoff at his statement. Pushing him out of the way, you went to do your night routine and took your pillows and an extra blanket, making yourself a comfortable sleeping palace in the living room like kids do, except this one was clearly not for playing. 
Jay could only watch you silently, and breathed a frustrated sigh realising he might have done or said something and that you needed some time to yourself. He went back to your guys’ bedroom - going over all his words and events of the day to figure out what he did wrong, sleeping far away from him. 
jake
   “You can’t even walk properly without stumbling over yourself. What makes you think you can play soccer?”
Being the girl who grew up with a father who regularly watched motor races and other sports on the television, you had always loved playing sports and being active on the field. You were aware there were a few things you cannot be good at but it did not hurt to try them out, did it? Well certainly it did not before those words left your boyfriend’s mouth. 
“Huh?” was all you could let out, trying to clean the dirt on your knees you got from falling due to your open shoe laces. 
Jake only scoffed in return and rolled the ball along with him, going over to the goal post and scoring a goal. You could only watch him, sitting on the field. After a quick two minutes of just registering his words in your mind, you also let out a sarcastic smirk and got up from the ground and walked towards the benches. 
“Ay ay, were you not going to score a goal right now? Let’s gaur! The bet on the ice cream still stands, you know that right?” Jake uttered excitedly, running up to you and passing the ball towards you. 
“Not anymore. I’m tired. Let’s go back, I’ll get us the ice cream.” You said, getting ready to leave the field, leaving Jake all confused with his lips pulled into a small pout and his eyes big with confusion and worry on your sudden change of demeanour. He could only watch silently, as you packed up your towels and shoes, swinging the bag on your shoulders and walking towards the exit, not sparing a glance behind to see if the puppy-looking boy was coming along or not.
sunghoon
 “ let me freaking breathe for a moment now, will you.” 
You had one issue - too much outgoing. You were always up for adventures and loved travelling. You could not sit in one place for any longer than a month and always needed to experience something new and thrilling. On the contrast, Sunghoon, not being very fond of always being outside, still felt happy to spend time with you - whatever and wherever it may be.
You were telling Sunghoon about how you had booked a ticket to this wonderful bungee jumping place next week for you guys since he had just gotten back from a tour and you guys finally had some time to spend together.
 “ I mean we could book a pretty lodging somewhere and just stay indoors-” “ can’t we just stay at our own house for a second, damnit. Why do we even have a roof over our heads if we aren’t staying in it for five seconds also.” he interrupted your sentence before you could even complete it. 
Hearing this, you realised you might have just crossed the line. Saying these words, Sunghoon turned towards his side - going to get the much needed sleep and rest he yearned for so long after god knows how many months of those tiring concerts and travel. 
You could only look at his back, thoughts flooding your mind and self doubt creeping up on you. You decided to hit bed on the sofa itself - making a mental note about cancelling the trip and spending bonding time with your boyfriend. 
sunoo
 “ as if anyone would believe you.”
Since your childhood, you were the rebel kid who would always lie to her parents and friends about so many things - partying outside, hanging out with certain people et cetera. This led you to not develop many deep bonds with people. Your life was absolutely dark, until this huge and cute ray of sunshine came in and changed the whole trajectory of your being - kim sunoo. He was the one who knew that you were more than just a liar and traitor people assumed you to be. The years of mistreatment you got from people and deep down those insecurities which had always eaten you from inside seemed to disappear the moment sunoo walked into your life. Which led you to go blank hearing these words from his mouth.
“ You know I would really like to see you try and win the trust of all the people around you. Since, you had acted like such a headache in your teenage years.” he said, going back to making silly tiktoks for his fan following. 
You knew he meant it as a joke as it is very normal for the both of you to have regular banter exchanged. But maybe, this time you could not take it as a joke. You felt those ingrown doubts getting out from your gut and spreading through your body. 
“Yeah…right…I was…a headache for sure back then.” you let out slowly, taking deep breaths. Not bothering to hear his reply, you quickly got up from the floor, saying in a rushed tone -
“Don't you think the weather today is so hot? I’ll get us some mint choco. Wait here.” saying this you disappeared into the kitchen downstairs, gulping down a big glass of cold water to calm yourself. 
jungwon
 “ What do you know about leading a group anyways?”
You had been chosen as the troop leader for a camping trip your class would be going to for a week. You did not have major doubts on your skills as a leader, being an elder sibling but the problem was your class - the most mischievous and notorious class in your whole batch. If they did not cause any problems today, they would surely cause double the problems tomorrow to make up for tomorrow. The whole school knew it, even the teachers, that this one class was absolutely hopeless when it came to controlling them. Which brings you to your boyfriend, Jungwon - the only person you can get some advice from regarding leading a big group. 
“And you know, there's this guy named Wooyoung and I swear he’s not even human. Like, why would you go around biting people you don’t like?! I’m so scared about what to do with him when I cannot even get into his five metre radius……” and you went on about the different troublemakers and how you think you could handle them for a week, when those words of Jungwon made you pause.
“.....what do you mean not knowing how to lead a group?” you questioned, sitting up straight from your lying position on the bed, feeling irritation creeping up on you.
“No, I mean, I get it. You’re the elder sibling of your house so you kinda have some idea when it comes to handling babies but of course you’re gonna be inexperienced when it comes to leading a big group of grown ass adults.” he said, very casually, continuing to reply to his fans on weverse.
“maybe you should pass on the duty to someone else you know. Someone more capable of being a leader and someone who will be taken seriously by the people.” 
There. The damage was done. 
“So you think I'm some sort of pushover who people don’t take seriously? Huh. I'm starting to doubt if YOU take me seriously or not. All those efforts were for nothing.” 
Saying this you grabbed your hoodie and cellphone, heading towards the door. Ignoring maeumi’s barking, you went out - jungwon’s words replaying in your head making you breathe a sigh and look up towards the trees swaying furiously in the wind, indicating it was going to rain soon. 
niki
“ Of course you wouldn’t be able to get in with that body of yours”
You had been trying real hard auditioning to get into this big dance team in your city which will be performing in SDC, one of the biggest dance competitions out there. But no matter how many routines you showed them, they still did not approve of you joining the team and told you to stay back in the studio. You were clearly aware that the reason they were not taking you in despite your excellent dancing skills was because of your body. You did not have a slim dancer body as other dancers have and SDC heavily depended on judging the figures of the dancers participating. But in hopes of changing that, you were constantly trying. 
“Oyi, you good?” you snapped out of your trance, hearing your name being called. There stood Niki, breathing heavily and the track humble by kendrick lamar now softly playing in the background. 
“What are you thinking about?” he asked a second time, noticing your eyes were distant and how you stopped rambling about how unfair the world is to people like you. 
“....yeah…yeah yeah I’m fine…nothing…just kind of zoned out.” 
“ yah don’t think too much about it. You couldn’t get in, you could not. That’s fine. You just have to work on your body more. You know competitions these days heavily depend on how well it looks executed and for that you are required to have a perfect body, as they call it.” he says, turning up the volume again and getting back to practise for his artist of the month performance. “Don’t ponder about it too much, you will get into future competitions.” 
Instead of taking his constructive criticism as motivation like you always do, you felt tears welling up and ran out of the practice room. The music had stopped and quick footsteps could be heard behind you, but you ran without looking back.
© enhagvrl on tumblr, 2024. do not repost or plagiarize.
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deadsetobsessions · 9 months
Text
Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.
Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.
Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.
Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.
And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).
Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.
(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)
The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.
Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.
And he kept coming back?
But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.
(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)
(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)
But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.
It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.
So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!
“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”
Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”
And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.
They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.
And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!
But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).
Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.
Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)
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thelostconsultant · 11 days
Text
Instant dad - pilot
pairing: Oscar Piastri x ex!reader
summary: You have no choice but to tell Oscar he has a five years old son. Now he wants to be a part of his life to make things complicated...
note: A little warmup chapter. Oscar is in his early 30s, so yeah, there's a time jump.
[part 1]
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“We would like to meet Oliver’s father. His biological father,” the principal clarified as he glanced over at your boyfriend. You’d been together for three years, he had been by your five-year-old’s side for over half his life, why wasn’t he enough?
But he insisted on meeting him, saying if he was dead and you could prove it, or if your boyfriend was your husband, they would move on with the enrollment, but you had confirmed that you weren’t married and the biological father was alive, so now they wanted to have a chat with him. He didn’t even care about the tiny little detail that said father had absolutely no idea he had a child. What a bunch of morons.
In the evening, while your son was reading a book about cars in his bed with your boyfriend, you sat by the dining table with your phone in hand, trying to figure out what to do. This fancy private school was perfect, they knew how to handle intelligent kids like Oliver, and you wanted the best for him. You wanted to make sure he didn’t get bored, that he would get the kind of intellectual challenge in school that he needed.
At the age of five, he could read on his own just fine, he even learned some Spanish from your boyfriend, and he was a quick study in general. It was infuriating how he was a mini version of his father, from his intelligence to his looks, everything reminded you of him. And if you met F1 fans together, someone surely went, “He looks so much like Piastri at his age!” Sadly, that wasn’t a coincidence, and the poor kid picked up on the whole you-look-like-him thing and chose him as his favorite driver.
Sometimes you consider telling him. Oliver, not Oscar. God, there was no way you would ever tell him the truth. He had his own, certainly busy life and he probably didn’t need a child in it. Yes, you saw the photos, he was good with kids, but meeting one for a few minutes wasn’t the same as having your own. Your son on the other hand could find out when he got old enough to understand why you had left and went no contact with his father. That was over ten years away, of course, so you had time to figure out what to do. Until then, you made sure the few photos of you and Oscar were stored somewhere safe in case he wanted to see them when the time came.
Now you were cornered, your hand forced by that damn principal. You had no idea if he was still using that old social media profile of his, but you had to try. So, you took a deep breath and started a call, deep down hoping he wouldn’t answer. You weren’t ready to talk to him, not yet, but you had no choice. And then his face showed up on your screen, the sight bringing back memories you’d been trying to forget for years.
“Hey. Are you sure it’s me you wanted to call?” he asked, although there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
Nodding, you let out a sigh. “Hi. Yeah, um… I don’t even know where to start.”
“At the beginning?”
Silence followed his words, your brain in overdrive as it tried to find the best way to start. But maybe being straightforward was the right answer. “I have a son. He’s five,” you added, hoping the meaningful look you were sending his way could be seen over the screen.
After a few seconds of heavy silence, you could see the wheels turning in his head as he did some math. “Wait, five? We… That was a bit over five years ago. Could he…?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “He’s your son.”
His face was emotionless for a while as he tried to process the news, but this was nothing new, he was the king of hiding emotions. But then, just as you thought he would end the call, he let out a sigh. “Why now? What do you want from me? Money?” he asked, although you could tell he was unsure about this whole situation.
The fact he assumed you wanted money only made you angry. “It’s not your money I need. Hell, I don’t even want you to meet him,” you snapped. “The thing is, there’s this private school I want to send him to, and they have this stupid rule to have both parents present at a parental interview. Since my boyfriend and I never got married, they want to see the biological father. That’s all I want. A meeting with the principal.”
Oscar put up a finger as he bit on his lower lip, his eyes focusing on something behind his phone’s camera. “Let me get this straight. After all these years, you say I have a son, but I’m not allowed to meet him?” he then asked, looking back at you.
“Yeah.”
“One meeting,” he then stated, his voice serious. “You let me meet him once and I’ll talk to that principal.”
“Oscar, come on.”
“That’s the deal I can offer.”
You didn’t have a choice, you knew that. If he didn’t do it for Oliver, he would have to go to another school. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you nodded. “But we don’t tell him that you’re his father. He watches F1, and since he looks a lot like you, he decided that you’re his favorite driver. That’s all you’re gonna be, nothing more.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I,” Oscar began hesitantly, and you could see as he sat down on his couch and looked up at the ceiling. “You just told me I had a son. What do you want from me, to forget it? I want to meet him. I want him to know who I am.”
“He’s five. If he finds out, he’ll want to see you again. He will want you to be a part of his life. I don’t want that.”
You could see he was uncertain about this. He probably understood that becoming his father would mean he would have to regularly visit the two of you, and even if you all kept it a secret, there was still the risk of the truth slipping out and making it into the headlines. “Is he anything like me?” he suddenly asked, his eyes softening as he watched you. 
A smile crept on your lips as you thought about this, because it was so painfully obvious to you that you couldn’t deny it, no matter how badly you wanted to do that. “He’s a highly intelligent little smartass, just like you. And his looks… A mini you, no doubt.”
Oscar nodded. “Then I want to be a part of his life. Let me spend time with him,” he asked, seeming relaxed. 
“Two hours.”
“No, I’ll stay for a week, and I want to see him every day,” he was quick to clarify. “I can look out for him while you’re at work.”
Whatever happened to the idea of meeting Oliver once? That’s not what you had just discussed, and now he was changing his demands? “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” was all you said in the end.
“You said it yourself, I’m his favorite driver,” he pointed out with a smug smile. “We’ll be fine.”
You were doing this only because of the school. You remembered what Oscar could be like; if he made up his mind about something, he definitely wasn’t about to let his plan go. Now he wanted a week with his son, and you knew that was the only way he would do what you needed from him. “All right. Can I send you the school’s number so you can make an appointment? I told them you travel a lot, so they’ll need to be flexible.”
“Sure, I’ll call them as soon as I can.” You thanked him, and were just about to say goodbye when he spoke up again. “Wait, can you send me a photo or a video?”
“Yeah, I have a few hundred of those,” you replied with a smile.
Oscar remained silent, but he let out a sigh and you knew something was on his mind, something he wanted to tell you. “I still have a hard time believing it, you know.”
“You seemed pretty confident when it came to getting to know him.”
“I wanted to use my chance to corner you,” he admitted. “But this? That I have a son? Hard to believe.”
“Well, he’s yours. You’ll understand it when you meet him,” you told him kindly. 
After you said goodbye, you went up to check on Oliver and your boyfriend, but by the time you got there, they were sleeping soundly with the open book resting on your son’s chest. With a smile, you took the book and leaned down to give both of them a soft kiss. You couldn’t help but wonder how your little family’s dynamics would change with Oscar’s presence. 
Well, it wasn’t really your son you were worried about, the main issue was your boyfriend. Oscar was a famous F1 driver, someone your son idolized, of course he felt threatened. You told him it would be okay, that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore, but he didn’t seem convinced. Maybe if they met and he saw you were indifferent, he would finally trust you a lot more. One can hope, right?
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husbandhoshi · 7 months
Text
[9:47 AM] *suggestive
the first thing you learn about seungcheol is that his towels are embroidered. csc, they read, in gold thread on absurdly plush bath towels.
(actually, the first thing you learned about him was that he's a good kisser. you learned this the hard way, outside the bar, after all your friends had gone home and it just was you, him, and his tongue in your mouth.)
as a rule, you try not to learn anything about your late night escapades, but, evidently, you have already failed.
it's easy to notice his bathroom looks much bigger than it did last night, now that all the lights are on. he has not one, but two, matching rugs, and the sconce lights make the marble countertop look like it's made of water. nestled in the corner is a little tray with all his cologne lined up end to end—armani, dior, chanel.
you pick up the silvery one on the end and smell the cap. (yes, this one. he was wearing this one last night, right in the space where his collarbone met the base of his neck. you had kissed him there, and he had asked you to go home with him. creed, aventus, it says.)
he even has the drunk elephant moisturizer, although it looks criminally underused. it sits among a small pile of skincare that looks like it costs twice your monthly paycheck, if you had worked overtime.
you have to remind yourself you're not here to snoop through rich people's bathrooms, as fun as that sounds.
seungcheol was a quick fuck (and a really good one at that), but you already feel like you've overstayed your welcome.
the plan—in and out. you hate the sticky, too-warm goodbyes, the small talk at the kitchen table, the unexpected rattle of a roommate coming home. worst of all, they never want you as badly in the morning as they did the night before.
but the plan has already gone to shit. you woke up practically spooning him and your little bathroom detour cost you ten minutes. and it's almost 10, which is what he has his two-hundred dollar alarm clock set to.
you shut the bathroom door as quietly as you can, hoping to make a quick getaway. but it's here, caught in the waxy overcast from the huge windows, where, for the first time in your life, you almost want to say fuck the plan.
"morning," seungcheol hums, propping himself up on the bed. you take one look at him, shirtless and sweats slung low, and you lose the plot entirely.
yesterday, when you had met, it looked like he was made in some kind of factory for hot men—starched white shirt rolled to the forearms, hair perfectly gelled, and a fat breitling watch hugging his wrist. and yet, as you watch him blow a cowlick out of his eyes, he seems even more attractive, which you would have never thought possible.
"someone's eager to get outta here," he says, enjoying the way you avoid his eyes. "don't tell me it was that bad for you."
you smile nervously. what you can remember about last night is that it was anything but bad. the whole thing makes your face feel hot—you are no prude, but he sure makes you feel like one.
"is that what it looks like?" you answer. you realize you can't find your shoes. you think he threw them somewhere last night, between the memory of his hand up your dress and yours in his hair. he kissed his way up your legs and you forgot you even had shoes to worry about.
"almost, if you weren't checking me out just now."
damn. guilty as charged. you can't help it. things feel too good to be true.
first, you learned you got fucked by a million dollar dick last night. now, instead of kicking you out like any other one night stand, he's acting decent, maybe even more than decent. and he has the tits of a god.
seungcheol sees your face wrench up in puritanical shame and he laughs.
"well, if you have time in your busy, busy schedule," he starts, with a grin that makes you dizzy. "i'm making breakfast. and i would love to eat it with you."
suddenly you don't know why you ever had a plan in the first place. you watch him attempt to wink at you from all the way across the room and you think getting to know him might not be such a bad thing after all. maybe things are too good to be true, but you're willing to find out.
needless to say, the second thing you learn about seungcheol is that he cannot cook.
the third? he's an even better kisser sober.
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absurdthirst · 1 month
Text
Online Love {Javier Peña x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 18.3k
Warnings: Online dating, feelings of inadequacy, anger, upset, mentions of past bullying, Javi having restraint, oral sex (male and female receiving), tiny bit of body worship, unprotected sex, vaginal sex
Comments: Coming home after Cali, Javi finds that his dad has moved into modern times. There's a computer in the house. Unsatisfied with his reputation proceeding him, he decides to go online to find out if he can be the man he wants to be. Except the one he connects with, you, has a very complicated past together.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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The last thing that Javi expected to find at the Peña ranch upon his return, was a computer. He wasn’t even sure that his father had known what one was, let alone how to turn one on. But there it was. A great hulking machine that is set up in the dining room, taking up half the damn table. He had frowned at his pop, hands on his hips as he asked him what the hell he did with the damn thing. “Talk to people.” Chucho laughs at his son’s confused ire and slaps him on the back. “I got that dial up package added to the phone line. Even my accountant told me I needed one.” 
Javier avoids the computer for weeks, eying it like it's going to turn on and take over the world. At least, that's what every Sci-Fi movie is about lately. He watches his pa try to cook scrambled eggs and snorts at the curses coming from his father's mouth while he flips through the paper. ‘Free Online Dating Membership. Join Match.com today!’ The ad in the corner catches his eye and he snorts again, wondering who the hell goes on the internet to find a date. He can go to any bar and pick up a woman. Well, he can get a one night stand. Every woman within fifty miles knows about the infamous Javier Peña and his reputation precedes him. The doorbell rings and Javier huffs, folding the paper to get the door. "I got it, pa." He tells his father who is still cursing the now burnt scrambled eggs. 
"Oh, uh, hi. Javier." You clear your throat and Javier's eyes widen. He says your name and you are surprised he remembers you. "I have papers for Chucho." You hold up the folder and Javier steps aside. You walk into the kitchen to find Chucho rinsing out a frying pan, the smell of burnt eggs in the air, and you smile at the older Peña. "Just dropping off the quarterly report." You set the folder down.
“You’re his accountant?” Javi asks, following you into the kitchen and he can’t help that his eyes have fallen down to your ass as you walk in front of him. It is a habit when he is around a beautiful woman and you have become that. No longer the awkward and gangly girl he had remembered before he had left for Columbia, you have matured into a graceful woman. It isn’t quite fair because you weren’t too much younger than him. 
“Yes.” You turn and give him a confused smile and tilt your head in curiosity at what he was meaning. You had always been good at math, enjoying numbers more than socializing. 
“So that-” he points to the computer in the dining room, “is your fault?” 
You chuckle a little, "don't you want to join us in the 20th century, Javier? It's nearly the 21st. A computer is the future." You take a step closer to Javier, lowering your voice, "besides, your dad can join forums. Speak to other ranchers. Other widows. There's a whole world out there and that computer brings it to him." You had noticed how lonely Chucho was and he is far too proud to say anything so you suggested the computer.
“What’s wrong with the annual rancher’s association meetings?” Javi snorts, rolling his eyes at the idea of his father courting widows through a computer. His mother was the love of his life, and he had honestly never even suggested moving on. He was still wearing his wedding ring that his mother placed on his finger nearly fifty years ago. “Going to town to the tack and feed store? Meeting people in person?” 
You shake your head, "your dad is a proud man. He's loyal to your mother, even after all these years. You can't be honest about how you feel with people you've known for years. On the computer, you can be anonymous, you can tell someone how you truly feel without seeing the judgment on their face. You can be who you really are when you're behind a screen." You confess, knowing you have your own experience with that anonymity. "You wouldn't understand it. You've never had a problem with saying what you think."
That’s not true, and Javi opens his mouth to tell you that, but he stops. You said that one could be the person they wanted to be. Who they really are. Javi glances back at the computer again, contemplating that in a different light. Everyone knew Javier Peña, by his reputation, by the stories that had been written while he was in Colombia. They judged him, or treated him how they expected him to act. Every woman he had met recently just wanted to ‘see if the rumors were true’. He hadn’t taken many of them home. Looking back at you, he shrugs slightly, as if it’s not anything to him. “They are a pain in the ass when they act up.” He grunts. 
You chuckle, pointing to the big book on the dining room table next to the computer. "Good thing you have the instruction manual." You quip and walk back over to Chucho who thanks you for bringing the report. "We need to work on the W2's next month." You tell Chucho who nods, "thanks, chiquita." He winks at you and grabs the egg carton. "Any chance you can cook scrambled eggs?" He asks and you giggle, "I would show you but I have to go meet Maria to explain why her new RV is not a tax write off." You chuckle and Chucho winks at you, "luego." You turn to look at Javier, "see you around, Peña." You show yourself out, exhaling deeply as you recognize that you couldn't avoid Javier forever.
Over the next few days, Javi eyes the computer. Debating with himself as he smokes out on the front porch. His dad still won’t allow smoking in the house even though his mother’s oxygen tanks were long gone. Looking at the outline of the large monitor through the screen door and contemplating your comment. He could be someone other than Javier Peña, manwhore or DEA disgrace. He wouldn’t be grumpy or sarcastic, not unless he wanted to appear that way. The person he could be online wouldn’t be burdened with the sorrows and mistakes that seemingly weigh him down. He blows out a breath and crushes out the butt before he yanks the door open and steps back into the house. His father is out for a few hours and he can at least turn it on to see what all the fuss is about. 
You bite your lip as you log onto the website. You never imagined you'd join an online dating website. You had seen the video tapes from dating agencies and you never allowed yourself to get so lonely that you resorted to that but the internet brought a new option. You like that there's no photos. Only an initial and a location. It's anonymous and you chat, then decide if you like each other. Sure, you've had some bad matches in person. Some not at all like they described themselves, some total assholes. You keep trying though. You want to find your person.
“Goddamnit.” Javi scowls at the computer and bangs the enter button several times. “Why won’t you do it?” He hisses, seeing the little arrow over the area he wants to go, but it’s not doing anything. “Fuck.” He rolls his eyes at himself and grabs the stupid thing called a mouse. Why it was a mouse, he will never know, but he clicks buttons until the page starts to load, leaning back with an annoyed sigh while he waits.
You have a sip of wine as you wait for the website to load. You sigh, watching the screen flicker as the website is displayed pixel by pixel. When it's loaded, you type in your email address and password. Grabbing the mouse, you click the 'log in' button and lean back, waiting again for the website to load.
It’s been nothing but a pain in the ass to set up this page. Debating on what to put, he had gotten annoyed at himself several times and almost walked away. Now he’s ready to browse available women, but knowing his luck, there won’t be anyone for hundreds of miles.
You set your wine glass down, surprised to see there's a new person online. "J" is the name and his tagline says "here to be myself." That intrigues you. You bite your lip, contemplating clicking on the profile until you select it and wait for it to load. "Name is J. Looking to be myself, find someone to talk to who wants to get to know who I truly am. Texas born and raised. Work in law enforcement so not a creep." You chuckle at the bio and decide to click on the 'chat now' button. You take another gulp of wine and select his profile, typing out a simple "hi".
A box pops up with a loud ding, making Javi sit up. Someone is messaging him already. He tries to suppress the surge of pleasure in his stomach as he remembers to click the line so he can peck at the keyboard. “Hi.” He hits enter and then frowns slightly because it seems so impersonal. “How are you?” He notices the initial and adds that before sending the next message. Frowning as he waits for a response.
You are surprised he responded so fast and your stomach clenches with nerves as you type out “I’m good. Just having a glass of wine. How are you?” You type, glad for those hours you spent on typewriters back when you were a teenager trying to write a novel. It sucked but your typing skills are excellent.
“Well shit.” Javier huffs, slightly amazed at the speed of the reply. He’s used a computer, he had to in those final years with the DEA. Hated it, preferred the typewriter, but he had never really talked to someone online like this before. “What do I say now?” He asks himself, wishing he could light up a cigarette. Hunching over the keyboard, he begins a two finger pecked response. “Wine sounds good right about now, although a glass of whiskey and a cigarette is more my speed.”
You have another sip of wine, waiting for his response. It takes a while and you wonder if he’s walked away from the computer but it soon pings through the speakers and you read his reply. A chuckle escapes your lips, “typical man.” You snort to yourself and reply quickly, hitting enter to send the message. “I don’t smoke. Never have. I don’t care if someone does smoke. So what brings you to this website?” You chew on the skin of your thumb as you wait for his response. It’s nice to talk to someone different. Someone you haven’t known your whole life growing up in Laredo.
Javi feels slightly guilty about smoking as he reads your reply. He will have to air the house out before his pa gets home. Wondering why he’s actually here. “Want someone to get to know me and not what they think they know about me.” Javi types out slowly. “Like I’m trying to quit smoking again, and everyone tells me that I shouldn’t try.”
Your heart clenches at his honest reply. You glance over at the photo of you and your parents when you were younger, remembering how you’d get made fun of for being too geeky. For liking numbers instead of boys. “If you want to quit smoking, you should try. Do it for you. Not anyone else.” You hit send, and then type out “everyone tells me I need to get laid but I don’t want meaningless sex. I want a real relationship. Someone I can talk to and be real myself with.” You hit send before you can think too hard about your reply.
Javi snorts to himself. “Meaningless sex doesn’t help.” He types out. “Not in the long run. I know. Sometimes it just makes you feel worse.” He’s had plenty of time for self reflection and regret. “So who is the real you?”
You sigh and type out “I guess that’s what I’m wanting to figure out. I have been so sensible my entire life. I want to let loose a little. Enjoy life. I struggle to trust anyone and it’s led to me to isolating. Hence why I’m on here.” You hit send and take another gulp of wine, feeling vulnerable.
Javi understands that. “People always call me an asshole, not understanding that I’ve seen shit that would make grown men cry. They wouldn’t believe me if I told them I’ve cried.” He tells you and continues the message. “Letting loose sounds like something I need to do too.”
“Were you in the armed forces?” You type out and he replies, “something like that.” You hum, typing again, “well at least you know yourself. You should be able to cry. Doesn’t make you any less of a man because you cry. As for letting loose, maybe we could help each other out with that.” You hit send and take another sip of wine, glancing over at the clock. It’s getting late.
“We could do that.” Javi hums to himself as he starts to type out his response. “What’s your idea of fun?” He asks. “Or the theory of fun.” His idea of fun is so far removed he doesn’t remember anymore. “I like watching movies.”
“Watching movies is good. I love bowling. I haven’t been since I was a kid.” You confess when you type, “or just a day out in the sun. I work so much. It’s hard to relax. I want to succeed. Stand on my own two feet.” You hit send and exhale, realizing how long you’ve been holding this inside of you.
“Do you like the beach?” Javi asks in return, smirking to himself about going to the bowling alley a few towns over. “Or more of a swimming pool kind of girl? You are a girl, right?”
You giggle, imagining J furrowing his brow. “I’m a girl. It says so in the bio.” You hit enter and continue typing, “you’re a boy?” You ask him to confirm and he responds, “yes.” It said so in his bio but you can’t trust anything on the internet. “I love the beach. And the swimming pool. Pool is better for sex. The beach…sand gets in places you don’t want to imagine.” You shudder, remembering when you went to the beach with your first boyfriend and got sand in too many crevices.
Javi’s brows shoot up when you admit that. He chuckles to himself and decides to be completely honest. “Never had sex in a pool or at the beach.” He types. “Fucked in a swimming hole, does that count?” He asks, remembering the time him and Lorraine went down to the local swimming hangout.
You giggle, typing back, “it kinda does. So, what is the true J? A man of mystery. Perhaps you’re a spy and that’s why you haven’t let anyone close to you.” You smirk as you hit send.
Javi chuckles as he reads that and shakes his head like he is in the room with the other person. “Hardly. No one could ever accuse me of being Bond. I don’t have the patience for it.” He pauses, considering your question. “I’m secretly a romantic. Wishing that I had someone to share a future with. I want to love someone, have them love me. I want laughter and fun, quiet nights reading books, early morning cups of coffee with someone.”
You smile softly at the way he says he wants romance. You want the same thing. You want someone to be happy with, to make happy. You quickly type back “that’s exactly what I want. A partner. I want someone to laugh with, to share my day with.” You hit send before you can think too hard about it.
Smiling as he reads the message, he feels like someone is listening to him for the first time. Really listening to him. He licks his lips and feels like he’s crazy for feeling connected through a computer screen. “Until you find that partner, maybe we can share our days?” He offers, biting his lip and wishing he could unsend it just as soon as it’s posted.
“Absolutely.” You type back and hit send before you think twice. You have a good feel for J and you want to get to know him more, be that person he can talk to. It’s nice to have someone want to talk to you that doesn’t even know what you look like. You yawn, the wine and the long day getting to you, and you type out “I’m exhausted. Long day today. Chat tomorrow?”
Javi looks at the clock and is surprised by how long he’s spent online. Soon, his father will be back. “Sounds good. Sweet dreams.” He types out, sending it and wondering if whoever the other person is will sleep soundly or toss and turn like he normally does. He hopes that it’s the former.
You log off, getting ready for bed and you fall asleep to dreams of a partner who loves you and makes you happy and you make them happy. 
****
The entire day you spend thinking about logging back onto the website. You try to concentrate on the numbers in front of you but it’s almost impossible to calculate when you think about what J might look like. His bio said brown eyes and brown hair. You wonder if he’s tall or short. You don’t care, you like talking to him. When you arrive home, you eat dinner and disconnect your phone so you can connect to the internet. The shrill tone of the dial up is a familiar sound to you but still makes you wince until you can log back on the website, tapping your fingers as you wait for any sign that J is online.
“Pa! Don’t pick up the phone, I’m going to be online!” Javi calls out from the dining room to the living room where his dad is laid back in the recliner in front of a soccer game. “I thought it was stupid?” The rough laugh of the older man feels like teasing but Javi rolls his eyes and huffs slightly. His reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he had a headache from staring at the screen last night. “Just don’t pick up the phone!” He demands again and starts to connect the computer so he can see how his online friend is doing this evening.
You smile when the speakers chirp with a new message alert. “Hi. How was your day?” He asks and you type out a quick response. “Long. Boring. But it’s looking up right now. How was your day?” You respond, wondering if he had a good day or if he found it as laborious as you did.
Javi has been looking forward  to this all day, if he’s honest with himself. It was what had gotten him through another day of repairing fences and trying to fix everything on the ranch that his pop hadn’t been able to get to. “Seemed like it would never end.” He grins to himself when he thinks that you might have been looking forward to talking to him. “But I’m settled down with a beer, how about you? Got a glass of wine?”
You smile at his response, quickly typing “of course. Cheers, J.” You hit send and type another message. “I was thinking about you today. Wondered what kind of movies you like. What kind of music you like.” You know these questions are juvenile but you like chatting to him and getting to know him without any pressure.
Javi hums to himself. Intrigued that his mystery friend was thinking of him. He taps his chin, wishing for a cigarette, but he had put on a patch this morning, and starts to list them out. “Grew up watching westerns, but I think I like dramas.” He types out. “Action is alright, but they always depict shit wrong. Shooing a car’s gas tanks isn’t going to make it blow up.” He goes on. “Music, I’m still an easy listening, 70’s kind of guy. What about you? What’s your taste in movies and music?”
You snort at his answer about action not being accurate. You type back, “I love dramas. And romance. Westerns…my dad used to watch them so I’ve seen almost every western out there. John Wayne was a big hit in my house growing up. As for music, 70s, 80s. I’m not sure about the 90s. Music is changing. I miss the ballads and classic rock.” You hit send and take a sip of wine, the dial up crackling in the background.
Javi snorts and shrugs slightly, like he’s talking to someone in person. “80s music is a little too peppy for me.” He admits with a grin as he types it out. “Power ballads are amazing.”
You nod as if he’s in the damn room with you and you fluster as you catch yourself. “I can’t imagine you as a Huey Lewis listener.” You type out and he types back, “how do you imagine me?” You bite your lip, “well, your bio says you have brown eyes and brown hair. So I’m guessing your eyes are a little jaded from shit you’ve gone through but also soulful, like the key to your emotions is in your eyes. Most men are guarded but their eyes tell their story.” You hit send, hoping he doesn’t think you’ve overstepped.
Suddenly, he feels like this person is in the room with him and has stripped him naked. Not of his clothes, but of his armor. “I rarely look in the mirror. Except when I’m shaving.” He admits. “But my momma used to say she could tell everything I was feeling through my eyes.”
Your heart aches for the man, clearly he’s been beaten up by life and you want to hold him, tell him it’s all okay. You type back, “wise woman your momma. I understand how you feel. I’m not haunted by demons but I was bullied as a kid until I left school. Too nerdy, not pretty enough. Not thin enough. It still affects me to this day.” You hit send and take a large gulp of wine.
Javi frowns when he sees your words and hates how that could be possible when you are a sweet person. “Size doesn’t matter. Every body type is beautiful in some way.” He types out. “I love women of all shapes and sizes. Pretty only lasts as long as age. It’s the soul that makes a person beautiful.”
His words melt your heart, a man who doesn't just want the pretty Playboy bunny girl to fuck. He seems genuine, unlike most men you meet. "Exactly. That's how I feel. You are attracted to their aura, their personality...looks are a bonus." You hit send and smile into your wine glass, wondering if you should suggest meeting up. His bio shows that he is within 20 miles of you.
“Exactly.” Javi types back immediately. “I want someone who will build a future with me, but also be willing to jump into the truck with a cooler of sodas, a full tank of gas, a map and no destination in mind.” He had imagined taking a road trip once, with Lorraine and she had immediately vetoed it. It might be one of the things that caused him to start rethinking their upcoming marriage so many years ago.
Your stomach twists at how perfect he seems, how he seems to completely understand you. "Well, if you ever need a road trip buddy. I'm your gal.” You type back, a grin on your face and you know you look ridiculous. His chat goes offline after that and you frown, confused and wondering if you did something to upset him. 
"Pa! Get off the phone!" Javi yells at his father who picked up the landline, forgetting that Javi is online. "Sorry mijo. I forgot." He admits, slamming the phone down.
“Damnit.” Javi hisses, hoping that you weren’t insulted by his internet dropping out. He listens to the modem dialing and it seems like it’s taking forever. “Hurry up, hurry up!” He growls, his stomach flipping unpleasantly at the idea of you thinking that he’s just done with the conversation. It takes forever in his mind, even if it’s just a few minutes and he’s relieved when the chat reconnects. “Fuck, I’m sorry. My dad picked up the phone.” He types out quickly.
You’re surprised that he lives with his dad but you can’t judge, you lived with your parents until you finished university. His bio says he’s over 40. “It’s fine! Shit happens.” You hit send and giggle slightly, wondering if he was frustrated that the connection dropped. “Thought you didn’t want a road trip buddy.” You tease, watching the message go through for a few seconds until it says delivered.
“Get me out of here!” Javi types back quickly, chuckling to himself. “I never thought living with my dad again would be so frustrating.” He admits. “I moved back to help him and it doesn’t make sense to live somewhere else. He’s stubborn and doesn’t want to admit he’s getting older.”
You like that he is living with his dad to help him. You like that he seems to be a family man. “One day you’ll miss him when he’s gone.” You type, hitting send. “Do you want kids? Marriage?” You ask, curious if he’s interested in that.
Javi frowns as he contemplates that question. It had been one that Lorraine had sort of asked him, in a way, when she asked him if he had imagined their life together. He had. He would have never had kids while he was DEA, but he’s done with that part of his life now. He could have that if he wanted, so does he? He flexes his fingers and starts to type. “Never really thought it was going to happen for me.” He replies. “But I could see it. Now. Had a dangerous job for a long time and I wouldn’t have ever thought about it then. But yeah, I would want that. You?”
You ponder his answer, appreciating his honesty and you aren’t rushing him down the aisle but you like to know if you’re on the same page because you like him. You type back “I want kids someday. If it happens. I’m a big believer that things that are meant to be, happen.”
Javi leans back, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about that. There’s been plenty of times he probably should have become a father, by accident, but it had never happened. He had made sure not to leave any kids behind for the mothers to take care of while he had moved on. He notices that your profile says you are in your 30s. So there’s still time. “One? Two?” He types out. “Boy? Girl? Both?”
You are surprised he’s not running a mile at this conversation. Most men would. “Two. One of each ideally but I’d take healthy babies any day.” You hover to hit send before you add, “what about you? Any ideas on kids?” You hit send and rub your cheek, hating how much you like this guy. Someone whose name you don’t even know. You have no photo, no additional information.
Javi never really thought about it before, not sure if it would matter. He shrugs slightly. “Happy, healthy, safe.” He replies. “Not sure if you really have any options. You’re gonna get what you get. Least that’s how I look at it.”
You chuckle, replying back, “very true. Healthy. Happy. Safe. That’s what everyone wants.” You like that he didn’t say “boy” like every other man would. You chat for another hour, turning the conversation to the best movies of all time until you look at the clock. “I could spend all night talking but I have to get up earlier to get to work. Goodnight J.” You hit send, deciding to wait for his response before you log off.
****
Javi is happy that he installed a second line to the house for the internet. Now he doesn’t have to worry about his pa picking up the phone and kicking him offline. He’s been talking to the woman online for weeks, deciding to call her ‘sweetheart’ instead of just by her initial. It’s funny, because he’s received messages from other women, but he isn’t even interested in responding. Despite his playboy ways before, he had no desire in getting to know anyone else. Grinning as your chat pops up, his typing improves, he quickly greets you. “Hey sweetheart, how was your day? That client’s son still being an asshole?”
You scoff to yourself as you type, “hey handsome. Yeah, he is. God, he thinks he knows better and he’s always been that way. He was best friends with my brother when we were growing up and he was a dick back then.” You hit send, glad you can vent about Javier Peña. He questioned the amount of write offs his dad was submitting with his quarterly filing.
“Just ignore him, he’s probably unhappy.” Lord knows he’s fully aware some people are just unhappy with being questioned. He had tangled with his dad’s accountant again today, frustrated because he knew that the assholes he used to work with wouldn’t stoop to hit his dad to get back at him. Of course, Miss Priss had looked like she was sucking a lemon talking to him about everything. Like he was just trying to make her job harder. He didn’t want his dad to get audited. “Wine or something stronger tonight?” He asks.
“Stronger. Whiskey.” You confess, “he really annoyed me. He thinks he knows best and I wish you could go head to head with him. I think you’d come out on top.” You hit send and take a sip of whiskey. You sigh, rubbing your eyes as you look down at your nails, you really need to get a manicure soon.
Javi chuckles to himself, grinning at the screen and feeling oddly proud to have the confidence of his sweetheart. “I’ll talk to him, see if I can’t get him to back off.” He volunteers. “Can’t let someone upset my sweetheart.”
Your heart flutters in your chest at the way he calls you his sweetheart. You have talked every night for weeks. You know that he struggles with the things he’s seen. “You’re too sweet, handsome. He wouldn’t know how to handle you.” You giggle as you hit send and take another sip of whiskey, feeling brave. “I know we have been talking for a few weeks. Would you like to meet up?” You hit the backspace, changing your wording, “would you like to meet me sometime?” You hit send and exhale shakily, nervous of his response.
Swallowing harshly, Javi’s eyes must run over your worse half a dozen times before he can grasp that you want to meet him. He types “Yes” before he thinks about it and changes it to “Yes, absolutely.” He doesn’t know when you want to meet but as soon as he sends it, he’s immediately typing again. “You said you haven’t been bowling in forever. Why don’t we do that?”
You are shocked that he remembered what you said from one of your first conversations together online. You immediately type back, “yes, absolutely! I would love that. Are you free on Friday? 7 pm?” You hit send before you think twice about it and you feel giddy at the thought of finally meeting the mystery man you’ve been talking to for weeks on the computer. Hope that you can meet his expectations of you and that he is some kind of creep. Normally you would never meet someone off of the Internet without knowing their full name but you do like the aspect of mystery of him and also you trust him. As insane as that sounds, you trust your mystery man.
Javi hasn’t grinned so widely since he was a teenager, feeling his stomach flutter and twist in pleasure. He types out the name of the bowling alley that is in the next town over, he’s heard that one is better. “Is that one close enough for you? I’ve heard there aren’t as many bowling leagues there, taking up all the lanes. We can bowl and have a few drinks, nothing too fancy.” He sends that and then chuckles. “I’ll even get some nachos and hamburgers.”
Your face hurts from grinning and you type back, “you are spoiling me, handsome. That works for me. I’ll see you there on Friday at 7pm. I’ll wear red lipstick so you know it’s me.” You hit send, reaching up to touch your lips. J had said he loves when a woman wears red lipstick.
Javi can’t even stop nodding at the computer screen. It’s a dumb habit, but he always feels like he is talking to his sweetheart face to face instead of through a screen. “I’ll get there early to make sure we’ve got a lane.” He promises. “I’ll be in a red shirt to match your lips.”
****
Friday comes around and you are nervous all day. Exhaling shakily, you check your red lipstick in the mirror of your car before you lock it up and head into the bowling alley. You’re here to meet J and you are nervous as shit. What if he doesn’t like how you look? What if you don’t live up to expectations? You enter the bowling alley and glance around, not seeing a red shirt so you make your way over to the front desk, hovering as you wait for your mystery man.
He’s got the lane and for some damn reason, Javi had decided to have too much coffee. Now paying for it with having to piss right as he sat down to wait. Trying to hurry as he washes his hands and rushes out of the bathroom. Scanning the people eagerly for the sight of red lips. His sweetheart will be early, he can tell from getting to know her over the past few weeks.
You glance around and see the one and only Javier Peña come out of the bathroom. You huff, "fancy seeing you here, Peña. Did not take you as the type for bowling." Your eyes drift down to his red shirt and your eyes widen, "J?" You choke, realizing he's the only person wearing a red shirt. This has to be a joke. Surely your online companion isn't here yet.
Javi’s eyes widen and he glances down at your lips. “Sweetheart?” He frowns slightly and wonders if this is some kind of sick joke. You hate him, think that you’re better than him because you deal with numbers all day. He could tell you things about numbers that would have your stomach churning. “What are you-“ he can’t even finish the question.
Your eyes widen at the nickname until you shake your head and let out a sarcastic laugh, "is this some kind of joke? Someone hiding with a camera? Did you - did you set up an account to mess with me? Manwhore Peña making out like he wanted something real? Please, you gotta be dreaming. I - oh God. You did this to mess with me. Well, fuck you handsome." You spit the nickname that once held affection for you and you spin on your heel, making your way out of the bowling alley, cheeks burning with mortification and tears stinging in your eyes.
Embarrassed at the people who are staring, Javi rushes out of the bowling alley, abandoning the lane he had already paid for. Spotting you as you hurry to your car, he admires the dress you are wearing even as he calls your name, breaking out into a jog to catch you. “Will you stop, goddamnit?”
You spin as you fumble to unlock your car. Your hands shake as you try to get the key in the lock. "What?" You hiss, knowing that you'll be a funny story he tells his friends tomorrow. The way it's always been. Javier used to make fun of you when you were in high school, your brother his best friend. Hell, your brother was supposed to be his best man until the wedding never happened.
He’s breathing harder as he comes to a stop in front of you, not panting but almost there. “Don’t- don’t leave.” He tells you, not reaching out but the anger on your face cuts deep. You loathe him, but there had to have been something you liked when you were talking to him online. “Look, if you’re - you go in and bowl.” He offers, holding out the slip to claim the shoes from the counter. “I paid for two games, there’s a pitcher of beer and nachos that should already be waiting.” He explains. “I’ll leave, okay?” His eyes slide away from yours, unable to continue staring at you when you despise him so much.
You shake your head, your heart clenching. You really thought you had something special with J. You don’t take the slip from his hand, your eyes stinging with unused tears. “I’ll go. You go bowl, enjoy the beer.” You spit and growl as you try to open your door, managing to yank it open after a while. “I don’t want to be the butt of your jokes ever again.” You hiss as you get into your car and slam the door, turning on the engine.
Javi frowns as you throw your car into gear and pull out of the parking spot, swallowing harshly. His jokes? Yeah, he teased you when you were both younger, but you still take that to heart? He steps back and shoves the claim ticket into his pocket, turning to walk to his truck. The date is ruined and he feels like shit even though he doesn’t know why.
You make it home and when you enter your apartment, you start to sob. Embarrassed that your entire online relationship has been a big joke. You know Javier is probably laughing about leading you on. You collapse on the sofa, burying your face in your hands, and you spend the first night in a long time not on the computer.
Javi comes into a dark house, his pop already in bed and he sits down in front of the computer. Staring at the dark screen and wishing he had never agreed to meet. Now that he knows that it’s you, he doesn’t regret that he created the profile, but he hates the image of your distraught face. Sighing, he turns the computer on, deciding to send you one last message.
You sniff as you log onto your computer after dialing up, wanting to send an email to your mom to vent about what happened when your email pops up with “message from ‘J’ waiting.” You huff and log into the website. You open the message and rub your cheek, hating that the mascara you so excitedly put on is now smudged all over your face.
“Sweetheart….I want to apologize for ruining your night, and your life it seems. I’m sorry that the night was ruined and I wasn’t the man you had been looking for. Your dress was very pretty. I want you to know that I’ve enjoyed getting to know you over the past few weeks and you are wonderful. I hope that you don’t give up looking for that special person that you can explore and share with. Javier.” The message is simple and straightforward, but Javi worries that he might have overstepped by contacting you again at all.
You read his message a few times. Your heart pounding in your chest and you bite your lip as you ponder what to say to him. You thought about what happened during your drive home. You try to reconcile the Javier you know in the daylight to the man you’ve been speaking to for weeks. You clear your throat and type your response, “Javier. I didn’t know it was you when I was messaging you. I guess I was shocked because you used to make fun of me when we were teenagers. You joining my brother to make fun of his geeky sister. I thought you weren’t interested in anything but sex - I heard the rumors about you in Colombia. I can’t figure out how the man who fucked his way through Texas is the same man who told me he wanted romance. All I can think is that this is a big joke at my expense.” You sniff, hating that your eyes sting again. “I really like J and if you are that man, not the man who rolls his eyes when I point out some issues with his  dad’s receipts, then I would like to try again. Talk in person.” You hit send before you can regret it.
Javi reads your message and it hurts. The magic of talking to you is now gone and he feels a heavy weight of guilt settling back down on his shoulders and he wishes he had a fucking cigarette. He sighs and starts to type. “Yeah, I made fun of you with your brother when we were teenagers. I was an asshole and it was wrong. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t address the manwhore comments, and decides to address the issue with his father. “I will stay out of your business.” He continues on. “I used to work with men who would dig and have others dig until they had leverage on you. I was just trying to make sure my pop didn’t suffer from me pissing them off.” He sighs and rolls his head around before continuing on. “For what it’s worth, I really was looking forward to that bowling date.”
You read his message, leaning back against your chair, and you swallow down the guilt that swirls in your stomach. Maybe you jumped to judging Javier. He was an asshole, but the guy who has been messaging you for three weeks has made your heart flutter. You bite your lip and type back, “I was really looking forward to it too. I’m sorry I'm defensive. I guess I have a complex from high school. Never being the girl that got asked to the dance and it’s given me some issues. I would never let your dad be dragged into something. I want to make sure he’s protected and doing things above board. Maybe we could try again? I really like J. I’m sure I’d like Javier if I gave him an actual chance.” You hit send and sigh, knowing that you have to accept what he says when he responds.
Javi sighs softly, aware this could be some kind of payback, but he doesn’t think so. “I guess it’s too late tonight.” He would go out, but you might not be able to do it tonight. “How about this? I’m free tomorrow night. If you want to do something, we absolutely can.”
You smile softly, typing out your reply. “Miguel’s? Tomorrow at 8?” You hit send and you know that this could be a massive mistake but you want to try. The man you’ve gotten to know has to be inside of the asshole you grew up with.
The bar in town is much more his speed and Javi quickly types out an agreement. “That sounds good. I’ll see you then.” He bites his lip. “Have a glass of wine and soak in a bath, sweetheart, you deserve it.”
You reread his words a few times, loving and hating the smile on your face. You log off the computer and follow his advice, soaking in the bath with a glass of wine. 
****
You glance up at the shitty sign that Miguel’s has had since your papa used to come here and drink after work sometimes. You brush down your dress, walking into the bar and classic rock is playing as you look around for Javi. He’s sitting at the bar, glass of whiskey in front of him, and his eyes widen when he sees you. You walk over to him, a little unsure. “Hi. I guess we should reintroduce ourselves after yesterday.” You tell him, wanting him to know that this is you trying again.
Javi smirks slightly and nods, noticing that you are wearing that red lipstick again. “Red lips.” He hums, wanting to reach out and see if they are as soft as they look. “Guess that makes you sweetheart?” He asks, standing up and pulling out the barstool beside him for you to sit down. “Javier.”
You sit down on the stool beside him, “handsome.” You murmur, taking in the sight of him in a red shirt and you like how he’s trimmed his mustache. He offers you a smile and the bartender comes over. You order a glass of wine and you turn your gaze back to Javier. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I was - it was a shock to see you standing there.” You confess, thanking the bartender when he sets your drink down.
“I could tell.” He doesn’t smile or make light of it, nodding to the bartender himself. “I was surprised that it was you standing there.” Javier admits as well. “Although I guess I should have recognized the asshole son you had to deal with.” He snorts, having gone back through the archived conversations now that he knows it’s you and it’s almost silly that he didn’t figure it out before.
You fluster slightly, knowing you said some mean things about him. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was venting. It’s not easy dealing with numbers all day and then you come along and argue it all.” You raise your eyebrows, “I understand that you’re trying to protect your dad but you really are a pain in my ass.” You nudge him and he chuckles, shrugging a shoulder, “I won’t apologize for being protective.” You nod and pick up your drink to have a sip. “Cheers, J.” You reach out to clink your glass against his.
He chuckles again, nodding at sentiment and taking a sip as you do. “We could have used you in Colombia.” Javi compliments you. “Being so good with numbers, you could have spotted things that took us months to figure out with Escobar.” He snorts. “When he was in “jail”-“ Javi uses air quotes. “That asshole would truck in live lobsters. I would have paid money to see you go through his money trail.”
You set your drink down, “I highly doubt that his accountant was tracking his hard earned cash.” You snort and shake your head, “the things you’ve seen down there…I couldn’t even imagine it.” You confess, knowing that he went through a lot during his time in Colombia. “Thank you for the compliment though.” You offer him a smile, “could’ve used your interrogation skills when old man Garcia refused to pay for his filing.”
Javi snorts, imagining putting the screws to that old coot. “That’s when you threaten to tell Mrs. Garcia about his drinking.” He tells you with a wink. Old man Garcia’s wife is heavily religious and has a strict no alcohol rule in her house. You laugh and he taps the bar self consciously. “I wasn’t lying. Online.” He adds. “You know what people think of me. Hell, what you think of me.” He looks at you softly. “Our conversations have been the best parts of my day.”
You soften at the sincerity in his eyes, “me too. I loved talking to you.” You sigh and shake your head, “I think I have misjudged you. I just remembered you when we were younger and then the rumors I heard about Colombia. And leaving Lorraine at the altar. Didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture but I shouldn’t have judged you like that. I think J is the real you, right? If it is, then I want to start again because I like you, Javier. I liked J a lot so if you are the same man, I want to see where this goes.”
Javi smirks at you slightly and leans in. “I thought this was starting again, sweetheart?” He teases playfully. “I don’t mind you misjudging me.” Not exactly the truth, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Not as long as you give me a fair chance now.” He leans back. “Are you hungry? You always complain about waiting too long to eat. I don’t want you to do that tonight.”
You soften even more at the way he remembers how bad you are at eating and you nod a little too fast. “I’m starving.” You admit, “are you hungry? I wouldn’t mind getting some food after this drink.” You gesture to the bar top and you let your eyes take him in now that you aren’t fighting. His eyes are crinkled when he smiles and his dark hair has grays scattered throughout but he’s as gorgeous as ever. No wonder he fucked around so much. He could have any woman he wants.
“That sounds good.” He admits. “If you don’t want bar food, we could go somewhere else?” He knows you prefer casual over formal, which he really appreciates, but sometimes bar food isn’t what someone wants.
You shake your head, “I like the food here. They have amazing burgers.” You say and he nods, “the fucking best.” You relax a little more, taking another sip of your drink, and you let your eyes wander a little more, taking in the golden skin beneath his shirt, peeking through from the buttons he’s left undone. He notices your appraising eyes and smirks. You fluster and set your glass down, “you know how women see you.” You scoff softly, trying to cover your embarrassment at being caught.
Javi chuckles softly. “Like a notch in their bedpost.” He admits, shrugging slightly. “Last woman that hit on me told me she wanted to see if the rumors were true.” It’s not been a bad thing, but it’s not what he wants now.
His words make you frown and you feel a little guilty for eying him. "For the record, I don't think you could fuck all night long. At least that's what I heard in the grocery store a few weeks ago." You nudge him to show you're joking, "you are more than that. More than what people see." You add with a murmur, recalling the things he said to you. "You're handsome but you're smart, loyal, and funny." You say about the man you know online.
He’s grateful you don’t buy into the rumors and you are willing to judge him on what you’ve talked about. “I’m not eighteen anymore.” He huffs. “Three good rounds is about all I’ve got in me these days.” He admits, smirking slightly. “Four if you’re counting the next morning.”
Your throat goes a little dry and you pick up your wine to take a gulp. “Three is…more than I’ve had.” You confess, “one…sometimes half.” You snort and Javier chuckles, “one and a half.” You shake your head, “no. Half. He came before I did and he didn’t -” You sigh and chuckle softly.
Javi grimaces and shakes his head. “Fuck.” He snorts. “Every man has had a time where he’s too excited or worked up. But you have to make sure your girl squeals in pleasure.” He sends you a small sigh. “Sounds like you slept with some real assholes.”
You snort and nod, “absolutely. Some real assholes.” You echo his words and sigh, “I just want someone who wants me and I want them. To make them happy.” You echo your typed words, knowing he feels the same way.
Javi nods, listening rather than jumping in and offering to make you feel good. He wants to take this slow and show you - and himself - that things can be different. The bartender comes over and he asks for two menus before giving you his attention again. “When was your last relationship?” He asks. “I find it hard to believe that it’s been long. You’re too pretty to be single.”
You thought that Javier would have offered to take you to bed but the fact that he didn’t is refreshing. “Uh, you remember Frankie from the auto shop? I went out with him about two years ago. I’ve been trying to build my business and I haven’t really had time to date. I’m not a one night stand kind of girl.”
He cannot say the same, but he nods, understanding what you mean. “You have to have an emotional connect, right?” He asks, wanting to know more about you. He's still reconciling the woman online with his ex-best friend’s little sister.
You glance down at the menu, his dark eyes burning into you, but you love how his attention is solely on you. “Emotional and primal. I think that the chemistry has to be there from the beginning otherwise you’re possibly waiting for something that could never happen. I thought you were a dick for so many years but I’ve always been attracted to you. Our chemistry was bickering but it was still there from the beginning.”
Javi smirks proudly, his eyes heating up at your confession and he lifts a brow. “I won’t lie and say I’ve always wanted you.” He tells you honestly. “There was a time when you were too young for me. But now…..” he winks. “I can tell you that it’s not just innocent thoughts.”
You bite your lip at his own confession and you lean a little closer to him, “glad we are on the same page now.” You reach out to touch his hand just as the bartender comes over to ask you what you want to order. You lean back from Javier as he gestures for you to go first and you order the burger and fries. Javier orders the same and you hand the menus over. “Best fucking burgers.” He says when he takes a bite into the burger after it arrives. “Damn right.” You groan in agreement after you swallow your bite.
“So.” Javi wipes his mustache with a bar napkin and looks over at you. “If there’s one thing that you’ve never done but always wanted to, what would it be?” He asks, grinning when you lift your brows in surprise at his question.
You hum, tapping your chin after you push your empty plate away. “I want to ride a mechanical bull.” You admit, giggling at the way his brows immediately shoot up. “Seriously?” He asks and you nod, a smirk on your face. “I’ve never had the guts to get up and do it. Always figured I’d look like an idiot and fall within seconds.”
“Everyone looks like an idiot and falls within seconds.” Javi snorts. “You’ll look like everyone else.” You huff and pout slightly, making him tap his chin. “There’s a bull a town over. Hole in the wall place. We could drive over and give it a whirl.”
You grin, “let’s go, Peña.” You reach for your purse and he tuts, “my momma would whoop me for letting a lady pay. It’s our first date.” He reminds you and pulls out his wallet, throwing enough cash down to cover the bill. You thank him, unused to such gentlemanly behavior from him and his gender. You take the hand he extends you and he guides you out of the bar to his truck. “You wanna follow me or I can bring you back here?” He asks and you are hyper focused on the feel of his calloused hand in yours. “Let’s ride together.” You decide and he nods, escorting you around the truck to open the passenger door for you, helping you up.
Javi rounds the front of the truck and climbs in beside you. “It’s only about a twenty minute drive.” He promises as he turns the engine over. “We have another drink, check something off that bucket list of yours and maybe even dance a time or two.”
His truck rumbles as he pulls out of the parking lot and the radio plays a country song. You admire the way his arms flex as he navigates the road, knowing that he realizes he’s attractive but maybe not aware of how much.
“Did you always want to be an accountant?” Javi asks, glancing over at you before looking back at the road. You’re so damn pretty sitting in his passenger seat and he wonders if you will bristle at the question. “I know you’re a math whiz, but was it a goal? Or something you fell into?”
“Kinda?” You answer, “went to college for math and I wanted to work for NASA. Then - then my mom got sick after I graduated and I couldn’t go to Houston. I had an internship there and I turned it down to stay at home. Became an accountant to stay local. She’s better now, thank God, but I always wonder what could’ve been.”
“Holy shit.” He’s impressed. NASA would have been an incredible career and he wonders what kind of life you would have had if you had been able to go for that. “I understand.” He nods, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Mom having cancer while I was in college really changed things for me. Honestly? I don’t know if I would have joined the DEA or not married Lorraine if she hadn’t passed.” He still misses her everyday, not regretting taking care of her one bit, but he had wondered what would have happened if she had lived. Or even lived longer than she did.
You were there the day he left Lorraine at the altar. The whole town was there. “I’m sorry. I remember your mom. She always made me feel so warm. She was kind and always made the best empanadas. I know you were a sheriff. What made you want to join the DEA?” You ask, curious what made him sign up, “was it to get away from Lorraine? From town?”
“Partly.” Javi snorts, remembering how the family he had once been almost welcomed into, had smeared his name through the streets. “She - or her family - told everyone I was fucking her best friend. Never even looked twice at her. But there were a lot of drugs running through town when I was a sheriff's deputy. Wanted to cut it off before it got here.”
You remember the rumor and you weren’t sure if you believed it. Javier was not a womanizer when he was with Lorraine. He seemed to only have eyes for her. “Yeah. It’s still bad. Those assholes will always win. You get rid of Escobar, someone else will take his place.” You sigh, “Lorraine did railroad you down the aisle.”
Javi shrugs slightly. "I loved her, but not enough." He admits. "I had some growing up to do and I don't regret it. Not really. She wouldn't have been happy in Colombia, and I wouldn't have let her stay."
You nod in understanding, “then she dated my brother. He was her rebound and I guess he didn’t really care about his best friend being her ex.” You scoff, remembering how your brother moved in on Lorraine as soon as Javier left town. “I’m sorry he was such an asshole and didn’t respect you.”
He huffs slightly and glances back over at you with an amused look before turning his attention back to the road. "Not a great look." He tells you. "Always wondered if they were fucking around before I left." He admits, revealing something that had been rolling around in his mind for a long time, but never voiced. "Doesn't matter anymore, though. We are all different people than we were back then." 
“My brother is an asshole. He lives in Dallas now with his pretty wife and two kids. I haven’t seen him for a while. When Mom was sick, he stayed away. Didn’t even come to see her.” You shake your head and lean back in your seat, “he’s always been an asshole. Used to say I was a nerd who would never have a boyfriend.” You chuckle, “guess he was kind of right.” You look up as Javier pulls into the parking lot of the bar.
“I was an asshole too.” At the time, Javi had thought it was pretty funny. He took part in the teasing thinking that it was all in good sibling fun between you and his best friend. He had been an only child and had been too immature at the time to realize the hurt that it caused you. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs as he shifts the truck into Park and looks over at you. “For everything I did back then. For the hurt I caused. I’m sorry I didn’t stop him.”
You appreciate his apology and you know it’s ridiculous to be hung up on the teasing you got as a teenager but words hurt and they have always stuck with you. You reach out to squeeze his hand, “I appreciate you saying that, Javi. Now…let’s go ride a mechanical bull.” You grin, letting go of his hand so you can unbuckle your seatbelt.
He chuckles as he follows your lead. Sensing that you want to move past that, he climbs out of the truck and comes to your door to help you out. His perusal in your outfit is both to admire you and make sure you will be safe on the bull. “Good thing you wore jeans instead of a dress this time.” He hums.
You snort, “yeah. Don’t want to be flashing my ass to everyone in the bar.” You chuckle and Javier takes your hand to escort you inside the bar after locking his truck. The bar is busy but not slammed and you walk up to the bar to take a seat. Javier gestures for you to say what you want when the bartender comes over and you order a glass of wine while he orders a whiskey. “Liquid courage.” He declares and you giggle, “maybe wine isn’t strong enough.” You hum but don’t change your order.
He smirks slightly and turns to watch the bull in the corner of the room. The floor is covered in mats around it and he leans in, his elbows braced back on the bar. “There she is.” He talks into your ear since it’s loud with conversation and music. “You nervous?”
You shiver at the way his breath fans over you and you turn your head, bringing your face closer to his, “I’m ready. Nervous, but ready.” You promise, knowing that you could look like a fool but you desperately want to try this. It has always looked fun.
“Squeeze your knees tight.” He advises you, his voice dropping slightly on instinct. “Move your hips like you’re riding a man. You’ll do just fine, sweetheart.” The bartender brings your drinks over and he leans back to grab your wine and hand it to you before he takes his whiskey.
You take a gulp of wine, stomach twisting at the way he advises you, his voice lowering. You set your glass down, “you ready Peña?” You ask and he nods, calling the bartender over to say you want to ride the bull. “Sure man. We can get it revved up.” The bartender nods, calling his coworker over to get the bull up and running.
“Now, when you fall, just tuck your body into a ball.” Javi tells you. “People hurt themselves when they try to catch themselves.”
You nod, walking over to the bull. You’re nervous and a little scared but you are excited to try this. You eye the bull, taking Javier’s hand as he helps you up onto the bull. You grip the handles, preparing yourself and you squeeze your thighs like Javier suggested. The machine whirls to life and you squeal, eyes widening as it starts to move.
The bull starts slowly, turning as the front of the machine dips down before it bucks up. Javi watches as your hand flies up, like you’ve seen Bull riders do. Your thighs clench tight around it and you make the first full turn on it. You are damn good, his brow shoots up and his cock twitches in his pants. Making him wonder if you would ride his cock like you are riding the bull, your hips swerving and rolling with the movement of the ride.
You grin, giggling as you ride the bull. It flings around but you remain on top, you rock with the motion, squealing when it swings you around again, and you rock back, feeling invincible as you conquer something on your bucket list.
The speed of the bull increases and Javi can tell you are starting to lose your seat. Knowing you are about to lose your grip on the bull’s sides, he’s still impressed. Putting two fingers in his mouth, he whistles proudly.
Loving his enthusiasm, you try to hold on for as long as you can but eventually, you fall off. You curl in on yourself like Javier recommended and you hit the mat and the bull stops. “Shit.” You hiss, stumbling a little as you stand up.
“Holy shit.” Javi rushes over and takes hold of your waist, grinning proudly. “That was great!” He tells you. “You’re lying. You have to have ridden a bull before.” He doesn’t think you actually lied, but he loves the breathless exhilaration on your face.
You shake your head, letting him guide you out of the ring. “Never. I - holy shit. I can’t believe I just did that.” You grin and your heart pounds in your chest as you lean against him. “I just did that.” You exhale breathlessly and he nods, a grin on his face. You can’t help it, you cup his cheeks and surge forward to press your lips to his.
Javi is shocked you are kissing him, but he doesn’t push you away. Letting you wrap your arm around him while your tongue slides into his mouth boldly. Groaning, he squeezes your waist and reminds himself that it’s just the adrenaline. Enjoying the fact that you are pressed up against him before you break away.
You pull back and grin at him, still riding your high, and you grab his hand, “let’s go get our drinks. I’m thirsty after that.” You guide him over to the bar again and pick up your glass of wine to have a sip. “You gonna have a ride?” You ask him, wondering if he will attempt to ride the bull.
Javi chuckles as he takes a drink of his whiskey. “Why the hell not?” He asks, pushing the empty glass towards the bartender. “It’s only been at least ten years since I’ve been on a mechanical bull.” He shrugs. “Like riding a bike, right?”
He strides over to the bull and your mouth goes dry as he swings his leg over it to straddle it. You bite your lip as you watch him adjust himself and the bull starts to move.
Javi grew up on the back of a horse and when he was younger, him and his cousins all rodeoed a little. Plus the hell raising younger years where he would come here simply to see how long he could hang on. He's older and isn’t used to it anymore, but he still hangs on and throws you a wink while the bull twists him around for the first rotation.
Your stomach twists with arousal as you watch him swivel his hips and stay on the bull. You lean against the soft barrier and take in the sight of Javier Peña riding the bull. He is sexy and you can feel yourself getting wet from the display he’s putting on.
The operator turns up the speed faster than he did with you and soon enough, Javi is flying off the bull and tucking his body like he had advised you to do. Grunting as he climbs to his feet, he smirks when you rush up to him again. “You lasted longer.” He teases. “Just like a woman.”
You snort, reaching up to brush his hair back that had fallen into his face. “You were amazing. Very sexy to watch.” You confess and he smirks, “yeah?” You nod, “amazing.” You haven’t felt this good in so long, carefree and happy.
“Do you want to try it again later on?” Javi asks, watching you grin at him. “You were really sexy riding it too.” He had a semi from watching you, even though he had no intentions of taking you to bed tonight. This was going to be different.
You love that he thought you looked sexy and you nod, “yes. I’d love that. For now, another drink?” You suggest and he smiles, taking your hand to guide you over to the bar again. You enjoy your drinks, squeal over another round on the bull, and now, your arms are wrapped around his neck as you dance to the music playing. “I really didn’t expect you’d be a dancer.” You confess, enjoying the way his fingers grip your waist.
“Too much of an asshole?” He grins at you, making fun of the unrealistic views you each had of each other. “I like dancing. It’s a good way to be close without being naked.” He hums playfully. “There were a lot of times that it was a good cover for watching sicarios. I would get a trusted asset to come with me. It wouldn’t be fair to make her sit there and just look pretty all night.”
You hum, rocking to the beat. You know about Javier's adventures in Colombia but you know he did that to find Escobar. You dance for a while longer until last orders are called. "One more or shall we head out?" He asks and you are reluctant to go home but you can't have another drink. "Let's go. I need to run errands tomorrow and I don't want to sleep in too late." He nods and pays the bill before escorting you to his truck once again. "I had a really good time tonight." You confess when he is driving back to where your car is parked.
“I did too.” Javi admits easily, probably the most relaxed he has been in a long time. You are easy to talk to now that you aren’t butting heads and Javi doesn’t just look at you like his old friend’s little sister. “Maybe we can do it again soon?” He doesn’t want to assume, you said you were extremely busy with your business at times.
“Absolutely. I’d love to do this again. I’m free on Tuesday if you want to do something?” You ask, knowing it’s crazy to like him this much already but you’ve been getting to know him online for weeks.
“I think I can make that work.” He thinks about the work he has scheduled with his dad and nods. “I’m sure we’ll talk online?” He asks. “If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”
“Sounds like a plan, Peña.” You hum, looking out of the window at the passing streetlights until you turn your head to look at him, admiring his profile highlighted by the dashboard and the dim light outside. When you arrive back at your car, he opens the door for you and you reach into your purse for your keys, unlocking your door and before you can open it, Javier cups your cheek, bringing your face to his. His kiss is sweet, tilting your head so he can deepen it a little and you moan softly into his mouth. He’s a good kisser. He pulls back before he goes further and you smile, “goodnight Javier. See you soon.” You slide into the car and buckle your seatbelt then turn the engine, offering him a wave before you put your car in drive and make your way home. Javier stands there for a few moments, watching your car disappear in the distance and he sighs, “holy shit.” He shakes his head and gets into his truck, heading home to his bed. Alone.
**** 
“You missed!” Javi pumps his fist as he crows playfully, watching you spin around and stick your tongue out at him. He wants to show you what you can do with that tongue, but he just smirks as he gets to his feet after marking out your last set. It’s the third game you’ve played tonight and both of you are almost equally bad at bowling. Making it fun as you joke and play around on the lane. “Watch a professional.” He jokes, blowing on his fingers before he picks up the red and blue swirled ball he had picked out.
You roll your eyes, “sure thing, babe.” You watch him as he makes a show of positioning his feet, rolling his shoulders, before he throws the ball down the lane. It rolls into the gutter and you smother your giggle with your hand until you mark the sheet. “Professional, huh?” You tease, walking over to grab your ball. “How about a bet?” You suggest and he nods, “sure. What’s the bet?” You smirk, “first person to get a strike…gets a kiss.” You proposition and Javier smirks, “you’re on.” 
You make a show of positioning yourself to throw the ball, concentrating on the middle line, and you bowl it, holding your breath as you watch it go straight down the middle, all the pins flying as you get a strike. “Hey, that’s cheating!” Javier accuses halfheartedly and you grin, dusting off your hands as you walk over to him. “Now…my prize, Peña?”
Javi leans back in the hard plastic chairs and reaches for your waist, dragging you down into his lap. It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s felt this lighthearted and it’s all because of you. You giggle and throw your arm around his neck as he pulls you closer. “Your prize,” he teases, brushing his nose against yours. “You cheater.” Before you can protest, he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours.
You melt into the kiss, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. His tongue slides against your lower lip and you allow him access, moaning softly into the kiss. His hands slide along your back and you feel giddy, heart pounding as he kisses you. You pull back after several moments, pecking his lips. “What a prize.” You murmur, your lips burning from his kiss. “And for the record, I didn’t cheat. It was luck.”
He chuckles, knowing you haven’t pretended to suck at bowling for three games to suddenly become good. “I know.” He pecks your lips again and pats your hip. “Lucky ass strike. I’m not complaining at all. I reaped the benefits of it too.”
**** 
You watch Javier shove a handful of popcorn into his mouth and giggle, “slow down. We can get a refill, baby.” You nudge him then take a sip of the large soda. “I heard this is a good movie. I always liked Russell Crowe.” You say as the trailers start. 
“It’s Gladiators, hermosa. It’s gonna be epic.” Javier says, channeling the teenage boy who would’ve loved this movie. He used to watch Westerns and Sci-Fi with his dad. They had to go to the movies to watch Star Wars at the midnight showing when it came out. You settle in beside him, leaning closer as the movie starts.
Javi throws his arm around your shoulders and watches you while he watches the movie. Wanting to make sure that you aren’t bored with the movie, but it’s soon apparent that you are just as thrilled with the action as he is. “They used to sleep together.” Javi predicts, talking about the Emperor’s sister.
Javier rubs your arm when you shiver but it’s not from the AC, it’s from him being so close. “I feel like he’s going to die.” You whisper, having a feeling that Maximus isn’t going to make it. You lean over to grab the soda, having a sip, and Javier leans in so you tilt the straw towards him so he can take a sip.
He feels like you are right, sucking down some of the soda and looking over at you and his eyes slide down to your lips. He leans in hums, "I think so too." He admits and leans back, reaching over and taking your hand when you put the soda down.
You feel like a teenager when he squeezes your hand and you watch the rest of the movie. When it’s over, Javier drives you home. His hand in yours as the radio plays and the wind is in your hair from the open windows. When he pulls up outside of your place, he cuts the engine and walks around the truck to open your door. He takes your hand and escorts you to your door. When you get there, you smile at him, “next time, I pick the movie.” You tease and he chuckles, reaching for your waist to pull you closer. 
“Rom com.” Javier guesses and you chuckle, reaching up to grip his shirt, dragging him closer. 
“You love them really.” You joke and he presses his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours and he backs you up against the door. You whimper into his mouth and he kisses you thoroughly. He pulls back and your lips tingle when you say “do you want to come in?” You ask and he sighs, “not tonight. I gotta get up early to help Pa with the cows.” 
You nod, stomach twisting as you wonder why he hasn’t wanted to sleep with you. “Sure. I’ll see you soon.” You offer him a smile even though it’s a little tight. “Bye, cariño.” He murmurs and you turn to open your door. He stands there until you close it, waving at him until the door is shut. You sigh when you drop your purse down, confused as to why Javier hasn’t slept with you yet. You’ve been dating for 2 months, talking for 3 and you don’t understand why he hasn’t touched you when his reputation displays his willingness to fall into bed. You ponder it all night long until you come up with a plan. You’re going to invite Javier over for dinner and seduce him.
**** 
Another cold shower. Javi hisses as he shivers under the icy spray of water, closing his eyes and willing his erection to go down. Every day he is hard, especially when he is around you. He’s tried very hard to make sure he doesn’t rush this, he doesn’t rush you into bed. Wanting there to be a solid foundation of trust and respect between you both. He just has to wait until the time is right to move things forward. “Fuck.” He twitches despite the cold temperature and reaches down to wrap his hand around his cock. You are so fucking sexy and he is more attracted to you as the days pass. He’ll have to jerk off, he closes his eyes and thinks about you, reaching out with his other hand to turn the hot water on.
**** 
You check the chicken is cooked and cover it with foil just as the doorbell rings and you walk over to the door to open it after adjusting your dress. It’s tight and black and you hope he likes it. “Hey baby.” You greet him with a smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
"Hey." His eyes widen slightly and he wonders if he had misread the situation and undressed. He's glad he stopped to get flowers and a bottle of that wine you like. "You look nice. Very nice."
“Thanks, baby.” You wink and take the flowers from his hand. “These are gorgeous. Thank you.” You carry them into the kitchen and grab a vase to put them in. “Would you mind opening the wine? Dinner is nearly ready.” You tell him and fill the vase to put the flowers in.
“Sure.” You’ve got the wine glasses out as well as a bottle opener, so Javi brings the bottle over to the table to pour out some drinks. “It smells great!” He calls out to the kitchen, listening to you hustle around. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. We could have gone out to dinner.”
You look at him over your shoulder after you put the vase down on the side. You smile at him, “I wanted to treat you. I know you and your Pa don’t cook a lot so I figured you’d enjoy a homemade meal. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus and red wine jus.” You tell him about tonight’s menu as he pours the wine out.
His brows lift in surprise at how elaborate the dinner is and he is impressed. “Are we celebrating something that I wasn’t aware of?” He asks with a slight smile, watching as you give him another one in return. It makes his heart flutter and he can’t help but think how beautiful you are. “Just a nice night together.” Your answer makes Javi hums in approval.
You work fast to put dinner together, setting it down in front of him, and you sit down in the seat beside him at your small kitchen table. “Enjoy.” You tell him and you pick up your knife and fork so you can dig in.
“It looks delicious.” Javi compliments as he looks down at the meal you’ve put in front of him. “Thank you, sweetheart.” You smile at him and again that fluttering in his heart makes him feel young and he wonders if this is that complete love his pa would always claim would one day find him and knock him on his ass.
You talk about your days while you eat. You still message online on nights you can’t see each other, complemented by phone calls, and after you finish eating, you clear the plates and grab the dessert you bought. “Still like pie?” You ask, placing a piece of apple pie and ice cream in front of him.
“You’re spoiling me.” Javi groans, watching the steam from the still hot pie rise and the ice cream start to melt over it. “I will have to plan something special for our next date.” He picks up his spoon and cuts into the pie for a large bite.
You like that he likes the dinner, making you feel special that you can look after him like this. You sit down and watch him devour the dessert. You eat your own plate and after the plates are cleared away, you find yourself on the sofa with your glasses of wine. Your radio plays in the background and you sit beside Javier, your legs tucked beneath you. “You’re so damn handsome.” You reach up to caress his cheek, “and smart. And funny. And I am so happy that we met online.”
“And you are blind.” He chuckles, leaning into your touch. “You are the one who is beautiful, kind and hilarious, you should be running from the disaster that I am. But for some reason you like spending time with me and I’m happy you do.”
“Me too. You’re not a disaster. You’re incredible.” You murmur, leaning in to press your lips to his. He tilts his head and you deepen the kiss, tangling your tongue with his. You kiss for a few moments until you break the kiss, kissing along his neck, and you shift to straddle him, your dress riding up your thighs.
Javi groans, his hands sliding up and down your thighs and he wonders what you are doing. He’s been good at not letting things go too far. “Sweetheart….” He pants, closing his eyes as he can’t believe he’s about to push you away. “Sweetheart, stop.” He murmurs.
You lean back and frown at him, “what’s wrong?” You ask, confused about why he’s pushing you away. “I don’t - not tonight.” He says and you shift off of him, “I don’t know - I’m confused. Am I - are you not attracted to me?” You question him, confused and hurt at him pushing you away.
“What?” He frowns at the question, looking at you like you are crazy. “No- no of course not. I am attracted to you.” He promises, but you shake your head, not believing him. “I am, sweetheart, I just- I’m trying to behave.” He tells you, shoving his hand through his hair and wishing you don’t look like he’s just broken up with you.
You shift to stand up, your stomach twisting, and you stare at him, “you’re trying to behave? I don’t want you to behave.” You look down at him, “I want you to fuck me. It’s been 2 months of dating. I never imagined you would go bowling, go to the movies like a teenager. I love that, don’t get me wrong, I loved all of our dates but God, Peña, I just want you to fuck me.” You exclaim, chest heaving.
Javi swallows harshly, watching you stand in front of him, practically begging him to fuck you. His mouth is dry and he rubs his hands on his thighs before he stands up. “Show me your bedroom, hermosa.” He demands. “You want me to fuck you, that’s where I’ll do it.”
His dark eyes are almost black and you see something in them that makes your stomach twist with arousal. “Baby, I want you.” You take his hand and guide him towards your bedroom, opening the door and you are nervous. Javier has had a lot of lovers. What if you don’t match up?
He’s groaning when he sees your bed and imagines spreading you out on it. You’ll look so pretty thoroughly fucked and exhausted. “I had a physical when I got back home.” Javi murmurs quietly. “And I haven’t slept with anyone, but I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on birth control and I haven’t slept with anyone for a while.” You tell him and you reach for the tie of your wrap dress. You slowly untie it and let your dress fall open to expose the lingerie you picked out in hopes that Javier would touch you tonight.
“Fuck.” He exhales roughly, cock twitching in his pants as he takes in your curves, showcased in lace. “So fucking sexy.” He starts to unbutton his shirt as he strides closer, feeling cocky and yet also nervous because you are so important to him. “What were you thinking about when you got dressed? Me fucking you? I think about that a lot.”
“I was thinking about you. Fucking me. Touching me. I think about that a lot too.” You tell him and reach out to run your hands down his chest. “You’re so gorgeous, Javi.” You murmur, caressing his skin and you slide your hands up to push the shirt from his shoulders.
Javi hums, not used to really accepting compliments. Women would flatter him, in Colombia to earn a bit more, or to get him to fuck them. You, you have nothing but honesty and desire in your eyes and it’s thrilling. “Thought about it a lot too.” He admits with a smirk. “Too many cold showers lately.”
You giggle, “no more cold showers.” You promise and slide your hands lower to unbuckle his belt. You pull it from the loops and let it drop to the floor. You unbutton his jeans, reaching in to squeeze his hard cock and you are shocked to find he doesn’t wear underwear. “Oh God.” You gasp at the girth of him and you pull him out of his underwear.
Javi groans as your fingers wrap around him, twitching in your palm and glancing down at your hand engulfing him. “Fuck.” He hisses, eyes closing when you give him an experimental pump. “You seem surprised, hermosa.” He pants. “Rarely wear underwear. Too hot.”
“I didn’t know.” You admit, “God, didn’t know you had such a gorgeous cock. No wonder every woman from Texas to Colombia wanted you.” You pump him again, shifting down into your knees as you admire his girth and you lean in to wrap your lips around him.
“Shiiiiit.” He hisses, jaw clenching as he looks down at you on your knees in front of him. He’s imagined it, but this looks ever sexier than what he had thought. “Fuck baby, you thought about sucking my cock?” He asks, cupping your cheek. “You like doing it? I want to tongue fuck you. See how you like being licked.”
You moan around his cock at his filthy words, loving the way he talks dirty and it has you soaking your panties. You take him deeper, keeping your eyes on his, and you wrap your fingers around the back of his cock, starting to pump him.
“You’re good at this. Tell me you don’t love sucking cock, you could be a pro.” He grunts, caressing the hinge of your jaw and pushing slightly deeper. “Gonna be thinking about this when I’m working. My cock down your throat while you bat your eyes at me.”
You relax your jaw, letting him push deeper, and his words have you moaning around his cock. Fuck, he’s so gorgeous standing above you. His stomach is slightly soft but you love that. You are proud that he’s enjoying this when he’s had so much experience. You choke around him as you try to take him deeper. You exhale through your nose and try again, taking him deeper into your throat.
“Fuck, don’t hurt yourself, hermosa.” Javi groans, pulling you off of him slightly as he pulls his hips back. “Are you wet? Dripping from having my cock in your mouth? Why don’t you sit on my face while you do it? Let me eat your cunt.”
You nod, dripping wet from him and the idea of him eating you out while you suck him off. Pushing his jeans down, he kicks them off and is bare before you. You stand up on shaky legs and he steadies you. You lean in to kiss him, your tongue tangling with his and he pushes your dress from your shoulders.
He has a lot of experience with undressing a woman. His hands are skilled in stripping someone down and he does it with an eagerness that is more than just hungry for sex. He wants a connection, a bond that cannot be broken even when he pulls away.
You let him reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging the straps down your arms until it drops to the floor and your tits are exposed to his hungry gaze. "Javi!" You gasp when he grabs your back, pulling you close so he can duck down and take your nipple into his mouth.
He’s always been a greedy man. Sex is addictive. It's honestly just as addictive as the cocaine he had chased down and tried to prevent people from snorting up their noses. The feeling of losing himself, pleasure both given and received lets him forget about the problems or guilt that weighed him down. Now he gets to just feel you, learn what makes you cry in pleasure.
You moan as his hands slide down to squeeze your ass while he bites and sucks on your nipple until he switches to the other. His fingers hook into your panties and he pushes them down as he kisses along the swell of your breast. “Fuck, need more.” You whine, lightly pushing him away so you can kick your panties aside, patting the bed. “Lay down, baby.”
He chuckles at how eager you are. Following your orders and laying down, giving himself plenty of room away from the headboard. Watching as you peruse his body, your own eyes just as hungry as he knows his are.
You shift to kneel on the bed, shuffling up the bed until you face away from him and straddle his chest. His hands immediately go to your hips to drag you backwards to hover over his face and you bend down to take his cock into your hand.
Javi groans as he takes in the sight of your soaked folds. They are perfect and puffy, soaking wet because of your want of him. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you back more so he can flatten his tongue against your folds.
You cry out when he slides his tongue through your folds, making you grind back onto him. “Fuck baby. That’s good.” You whimper and lean down so you can take his cock into your mouth with a moan, wanting him to feel just as good.
Javi groans happily, enjoying the tang of your juices on his tongue. Licking into your cunt eagerly and making it messy. Groaning again when your mouth wraps around his cock again.
You love how he moans into your flesh and you grip his cock, sloppily sucking his cock as you want him to enjoy this as much as you are. You love how enthusiastic he is, sucking your clit into his mouth and you moan around his cock again.
He continues to lick into you, rocking your hips back and burying his tongue deep inside your soaked walls. Twitching in your mouth and groaning when a dribble of precum is spurted into your mouth as you suck.
You moan, hollowing your cheeks around his cock as you take him deeper, rocking back on his face as he sucks on your clit a little harder. It’s so good. You moan and pull off of his cock, continuing to pump him in your hand.
Javi moans into your folds, pulling back slightly. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He grunts before he is diving back in to make you cum.
You huff but loosen your grip on his cock, not taking him back into your mouth but he ducks harder on your clit. You rest your cheek on his thigh as he slides his tongue inside of you. You pant, “God baby. You’re gonna make me cum.” You moan, so close to your orgasm as he pushes his tongue deeper.
That’s the point. He doesn’t stop, speeding up his tongue as it flicks through your walls and pulls you back more firmly on his face. Willing you to cum for him, wanting to hear you and taste you.
You rock back onto his face, unashamed of your need and lust for him, and you moan his name when you fall over the edge. Your thighs gripping his face as he works you through it. “Javi. Oh shit. Baby, I - oh God.” You ramble against his thigh.
Javi loves it. The slick of your release covering his mouth and jaw as he works you through it. Keeping ahold of your hips and your cunt firm to his mouth until you are whimpering his name as a little protest.
He pushes you over the edge and keeps pushing, making you hiss as you get overstimulated. "Javi." You whine his name again, needing him to pull back and he relents, leaning away from your cunt with a groan. You sigh, closing your eyes, "God, so good." You murmur, taking a moment to ride your high.
Javi pants, licking his lips as he strokes your ass. He knows that feeling, riding the wave. He would need a cigarette if he hadn’t been using the patches and he still hasn’t even cum. Shoving his arm under his head, he watches you shift off of him a few minutes later. His cock is throbbing but he doesn’t mind.
You shift to lay beside him, leaning in to kiss him, and he turns his head so you can slide your tongue against his. You moan into the kiss, uncaring about your tangy cum on his lips, and you slide your hand down to grip his cock, squeezing him before you pump him slowly. "You're too good, Javi. How do you want me?" You ask, wanting him to enjoy this in case you don't cum again. You've already gotten more than you would have from other lovers.
Javi groans into your mouth. “I like to kiss and be close.” He admits. “But sometimes I change positions.” He rolls onto you and slides his hand down to bring your thigh up to his hip. “Start this way and end up however we do?”
You nod, sliding your hands along his back, loving the way his muscles flex under your touch. "Sounds perfect." You murmur and he reaches between you to position his cock at your entrance. You close your eyes as he pushes inside of you, your head tilting back while you silently moan at the stretch.
He watches you closely, loving how expressive you are. How you don’t care about how you look. You care about how you feel, how he is making you feel. It looks like you are feeling good and he wants to make you always feel this way. “So pretty.” He moans quietly. “So goddamn pretty and all mine. My pretty girl.”
You slide your hands up into his hair, "yours. All yours." You promise, lifting your legs so you can wrap them around his hips. He sinks deeper inside of you and you whimper, "God, you feel so good inside of me. Move, please." You beg, "don't care if you cum too fast. You already made me cum."
Javi snorts and shakes his head. “Fuck no.” He grunts, pulling his hips back to surge forward again. “Not going to do that to you.” He hisses out, eyes rolling back when you clench down around him. His lips find your skin and he starts to kiss, everywhere he can reach as he starts to move.
His lips on your skin have you on fire, rocking your hips up to meet his thrusts, and you caress his back, loving the way he feels covering your body. You tilt your head back so he can kiss down your neck until you grab his cheeks, bringing his mouth back to yours and you moan into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his as he rocks into you.
Every thrust of his hip makes both of you pant in pleasure, breath exchanged and mingled together as the two of you move. Javi slides his arms around your body and pulls you up close, sinking deeper as he pushes into you again and again.
He drops his hips and he grinds against your clit, making you gasp in pleasure, and he smirks, focusing on that spot again. “Good girl.” He murmurs and the praise makes you push your heels into his ass to press him deeper inside of you. “Shit. Feels so good. I - never felt like this before.” You admit breathlessly, getting closer and closer.
“Good.” It’s not good that you’ve never been fucked properly, but he’s glad you are making sure that you get the attention you deserve. “You feel so good. Tight little pussy squeezing my cock.” He praises roughly. “Could spend all night right here.”
His words make you gush around him and he caresses your thigh as he rocks into you, making you moan when he hits something just right. “Yes. Yes. Javier. Fuck, right there. That - oh God!” You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him, and his name echoes on your bedroom walls as you cum around him for the first time.
“Fuuuuuck.” He growls, slowly thrusting into you as you fall apart on his cock. Loving how tight you get, how wet. Bracing his knees on the bed, he pulls you up until you are in his lap.
You gasp, feeling him sink deeper and press against your cervix in this position. Your hands grip his waist and you scramble to brace your feet on the bed. “God, Javi.” You cry out when he starts to rock his hips again. “Yes. Love - love this.” You choke out, tilting your head back.
He groans as he rolls his hips up, using his thighs as he works in and out of you. “Fuck, you’re-“ he chokes out, gasping your name when you squeeze him inside your walls again. “Fuck, hermosa.” He hisses, lunging forward and biting down on your jaw as the thrusts become sharper, snapping his hips up.
You love the way he bites as he nips and kisses down your neck until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. You tangle one hand in his hair, tugging on it to bring his mouth back to yours. Your tongues slide against each other while he thrusts into you and you use your feet to grind down onto him. “Shit. You got me worked up. Might cum again.” You pant against his chin.
“Do it.” He huffs, his hands sliding up and down your back, gripping your ass as he grinds into you. “Cum all over me again. Wanna feel it. So good.” He babbles slightly, hoping you are enjoying this as much as you seem to be. It’s been awhile since he’s had sex but he’s holding out. Jerking off before the date had been a good idea.
You pant, rocking down onto him and it doesn’t take long but it does take you by surprise when you cum again, clamping down on his cock and soaking him for the second him. Your chest heaves as you tilt your head back, moaning his name as you experience bliss once more.
Javi takes that opportunity to kiss along your throat, licking and biting your skin as he rocks up into you, fucking you through your orgasm. Starting to move a little faster as he chases his own pleasure, while the grunts and groans get louder.
You try to rock down onto him, wanting him to cum, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging his face to yours. "Cum for me, Javi." You plead, leaning in to kiss him while he grunts into your mouth.
It doesn’t take many more thrusts, stiffening and moaning your name into your mouth, his cock pulsing deep inside you. Flooding your cunt with ropes of his sticky seed while he pants in pleasure. “Fuck.”
You smile against his chin as he relaxes beneath you, shifting you to lay you down on your pillows. You feel like you're floating as he leans in to gently nip your chin. "So fucking good." You murmur, "rumors were not wrong."
He chuckles quietly. “Glad I could live up to the hype.” He teases. “Fuck- I wish I had a cigarette.” He groans. “Nothing better than a cigarette after amazing sex.”
You sigh, caressing his cheek, "I don't have any cigarettes, baby." You murmur, "sorry." You lean in to kiss his cheek and he nods, "it's okay. I'm trying to quit." You shift to lay down and he pulls out of you, shuffling off the bed to head into your bathroom for a rag so he can clean you up.
Javi cleans up quickly and brings the rag back, damp and soapy to make sure you are wiped clean before he tosses it back into the sink. Not sure if you want him to lay with you, he stands in the doorway and looks at you laying in your bed like a warm puddle, boneless and content. It makes him smile, watching you almost glow in the aftereffects.
“Come here.” You pat the bed and he nods, slipping back into the bed with you after he pulls the comforter from under you. You curl into his chest, swinging your leg over his hip, “are you going to stay the night? I’ve been told I make great pancakes.”
“If you want me to.” Javi settles back against the pillows and holds you close, his fingers tracing the lines of your back as you cuddle close. The fan spins lazily above you and he feels completely relaxed. “I’ll do whatever you want me to.” He chuckles. “Had no other plans, except maybe logging online and talking to this girl I’ve been seeing.”
You grin against his peck, “is she nice?” You ask and Javier smirks and shrugs one shoulder, “she’s alright.” You playfully slap his chest but he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the back of it. “I want you to stay.” You murmur, turning your head to kiss his chest.
Javi hums happily and agrees. “Then I’ll stay.” He promises. “But your pancakes better be worth it.” He teases, happy that he had found someone that it was so natural to be with, in and out of bed.
You snort, “just you wait, Peña.” You promise and snuggle into his side again, enjoying the closeness between you.
**** 
Javier groans as he walks into the kitchen, his jeans on and unbuttoned after he cleaned up in the bathroom. He rubs his eyes and you turn around to look at him, dressed in his shirt. “Pancakes are ready.” You declare, setting a plate down on the table for him but you grab the can of whipped cream to squirt a smiley face on the top cake for him.
​​He huffs in amusement as he looks down at the smiley face on his pancakes. “Did I do that good fucking you last night?” He teases as he reaches around and pats your ass. “I get the special pancakes?” The last time he had seen this was on a kids menu in some pancake diner. It’s cute and he pulls you down for a kiss.
You giggle against his lips, pecking them a few times, "you did real good, baby. Wanted to show you my appreciation. You said you've been hungrier since you quit smoking so I figured you'd want a big breakfast. Bacon and eggs are nearly done."
“I could have helped you.” He had slept longer than he meant to, intending to wake up with you this morning. However, when he opened his eyes, he was all alone in the bed. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do this. I could have taken you out.”
You shake your head, “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake you up. You looked peaceful. I know you’ve been up early with your dad so you needed the sleep. I like cooking, I like taking care of you.” You confess, biting your lip as you plate up the eggs and bacon and set the plate on the table.
Javi softens and smiles at you. “I’m not complaining at all, sweetheart.” He promises. “I really appreciate it.” He gets up to grab the two mugs of coffee you have poured. “Let’s eat while your hard work is hot.” He tells you, pulling out your chair for you to sit.
You sit down, picking up your knife and fork to dig in to eat and your eyes meet Javier’s as he groans when he takes a bite of your pancakes. “Good?” You ask and he hums, swallowing his bite. “So fucking good.” You grin, proud that he likes them. You watch him eat, enjoying the product of your labor and you notice him staring at you. “Do I have something on my face?” You ask, reaching for the napkin.
“No.” Javi shakes his head and forks up another bite of eggs. “Just admiring how pretty you are without makeup on.” He admits. “You are pretty with it, but I think you’re even more beautiful without it.”
You fluster, cheeks warming at his compliment. Something soft that you never really expected from Javier Peña, especially the one you knew from childhood. “Thank you. I like the five o clock shadow on you.” You gesture to his unshaved face.
“Yeah.” He rubs his face with his hand, feeling the raspiness of the hair growing in. “Can’t grow a beard for shit though.” He snorts. “Comes in all patchy.”
You lean closer, resting your elbow on the table, “sexy no matter what.” You promise and he offers you a bashful smile, making your heart flutter. 
**** 
You wrap your arms around his neck, swaying to the music. Javier decided to take you to the fair that’s happening a town over and you are currently on the makeshift dance floor, swaying to the music played by the teenage band.
“Are you having a good time?” Javi asks, pulling you a little closer and leaning his cheek against yours as the band plays. Tonight has been wonderful, but he can’t remember a time that he’s not had a good time around you. You’ve played some games and ridden some rides, had plenty of fair food, and now he gets to hold you close.
"Always with you, baby." You promise, breathing him in. He's become your home, your person to vent to, to cry with, to laugh with. You've never experienced anything like this. 
He leans back to look at you and you lean forward to nudge your nose against him. "I love you." He blurts out and you pull back in surprise. Neither of you have mentioned your feelings yet but you are shocked that he was the first one to say anything. He looks surprised with himself then he gets nervous and you cup his cheek, "I love you too." You declare, leaning forward to brush your lips with his.
Javi smiles against your lips, his fingers digging into your waist as he deepens the kiss. He is home, in mind, body and spirit. Healing every day while sharing himself with you. Your accounts are both canceled, no need to chat online, now that you have each other.
  ​​
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tootiecakes234 · 8 months
Text
Going to the Hero Awards with Katsuki for the first time:
You and Mina had been doing prep ALL DAY. The hair, the makeup, final dress fittings, you name it. It was kinda nice, like a self pampering that was being funded by the best boyfriend of all time. Katsuki had given you his card and told the both of you to go nuts. He had to work the day of so he’d be getting home just in time to get ready and leave.
Mina had helped you pick out the cutest dress you’d even seen and it was orange to match Katsuki’s hero theme. Your other accessories being black with slight hints of green here and there.
You’re not gonna lie, you were VERY nervous. This was a big award for him. He’d ended up being number six at the last one and this was the year he breaks into the top 5.
Kats has been acting like it’s not a big deal but you’ve been able to feel how anxious he’s really been. So tonight you were gonna focus on holding yourself together and being there for him in whatever way he needed.
You were touching up your makeup just a little when you heard the front door open. He’s running behind.
“Fuck, I know I’m late. I gotta hop in the shower and FUCK! I never picked up my clothes from the-“, he was pacing around the room like a madman.
“Hey, hey.” And you placed your hands on his shoulders to steady him for a minute. “I have your clothes, they’re hanging up in the closet above your shoes. I have your hair stuff laid out on the counter and you might wanna get a quick shave in too.” You say as you run your hands along his stubble.
And he takes a deep breath. And then another.
“Thanks, I got sidetracked at work and time got away from me.”
“ ‘s fine. You’ve got time. Go ahead and hop in the shower and let me know if your need anything, yeah?”
He leans down a places a soft kiss to your forehead and then heads for the bathroom.
Yeah, this was gonna be a long night.
When Katsuki comes out of the bathroom he’s gotta towel wrapped around his waist and he’s looking a lot more himself.
You were sitting down putting on your shoes, but you stop and look up because you noticed he’s not moving anymore.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him.
“You look…… incredible” and the way you start blushing is insane. You cant even make eye contact with him. His compliments are usually never that straightforward. It shocked you a bit.
“Thanks” you whisper softly. And then outta the corner of your eye you see him striding toward you.
“Kats-“ but your lips are covered by his and you just know he’s gonna be covered in your lipstick.
When he pulls back he has a full grin on his face.
“Damn, I feel a lot better now. Gonna have the hottest woman on my arm and I’m gonna finally be in the top 5. Was worried about nothin.”
The smile that shines in your eyes is worth a million dollars.
“You’re not gonna have any of that if you don’t finish getting dressed so we can leave.” And you start pushing him away. “Go. Hurry up”
“Yeah yeah, ‘m goin” he mumbles as he walks away.
“And wipe the lipstick off your face” you shout behind him.
You guys manage to make it just before the doors close for the event and you’re sat at a table with Eijirou and Mina.
They go through the whole spiel of course before they start announcing the Hero’s in their order.
This year Pinky was number 18 which was 6 whole spots higher than last year and Red Riot broke into the top 10 sitting at number 8. You cheered so loud for your friends, but you didn’t fail to notice that Kats hand had slipped into yours and was holding on pretty tight.
He kept a straight face but he was beyond wrecked on the inside. You look over at him and give the the most encouraging smile you can muster.
The numbers continued to be listed off they’d finally gotten into the top 5. He hadn’t heard his name at 5 or 4.
“Coming in as the number 3 Hero in Japan, Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight. “
He’d broken into the top 3!! You looked over at him and his face was as stoic as ever. Ever the cool man on the outside. This man leaned over, placed a quick kiss to your lips and then walked onto the stage to accept his prize.
“Ugh, yea I worked hard for this. It’s well deserved. Thanks to my agency and the best girl a guy could ask for…. Next year I’ll be number 1.” And then He just walks off.
Everyone else had given these heartfelt speeches but his was of course sweet simple and to the point.
Katsuki has grown up, doesn’t mean he’s changed all that much.
Number 1 ends up being Izuku for the second year in a row. When he walks past Katsuki they hug and congratulate each other. You were happy to see how far their relationship had come.
After the awards are given out, they had back to their seats and you guys have dinner. After, Everyone goes around congratulating and thanking. Most of them kissing ass really, but you digress. You’re in the middle of talking to some agent you really have no interest in talking to when you feel a warm arm wrap around your waist.
“I’m taking her now.”, you hear him say as he starts dragging you off.
“Hey, that was really rude.”
“Too damn bad. I’m number 3 hero, I do what I want” he says and you can hear the smirk on his face.
“Where are you taking me, Mr. Bigshot” ?
“Home. We came, we saw, we conquered. Now I get to have my real prize all to myself.
“And what would that be?” You ask as coyly as you can muster.
“Obviously you dummy. Wanna see how good that dress looks bunched around your waist” he whispers against your ear.
That has you walking with a pep in your step to get out to your car and home.
This had turned out to be a lot better than you’d expected it to.
Katsuki Masterlist
@dreamcastgirl99
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disneyprincemuke · 8 months
Text
who the hell is rocky? * fem!driver
who the hell does sebastian keep calling 'rocky'?
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver
notes: here ok now she has a nICKNAME OK IT'S ROCKY IT'S ROCKY OK BECAUSE SHE LIKES ROCKY ROAD ICE CREAM NOW
(series masterlist)
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she presses her lips together, turning the knob and peeking in. “seb,” she whispers into the room. “are you in here?”
sebastian raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “yeah, why?”
“great, so i wouldn’t feel as bad sneaking in here.” she pushes the door open and quickly shuts the door behind her. she beams at him, shoving her hands into her jacket. “hi!”
he looks up at her, head still hung low from the papers he was looking at. “what do you want?”
“oh, we’re playing hide and seek with jack and laura,” she grins, walking over to the empty seat at the his table. she sits down and tucks her legs under her body. “and oscar, logan, mick… liam… i’m not in the mood to be found so soon.”
“so you’re hiding here? in my office?” sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back down at his papers. “isn’t that cheating?”
“they didn’t specify where i couldn’t hide.” she puts her palms down against his table with a small grin. she extends her neck a little bit. “what are you doing?”
he flips the papers towards his body, shielding its contents away from her. “i’m looking at data. you’re not a cheater — go play hide and seek properly.”
she shrugs nonchalantly. “i’m the oldest child. of course, i bend the rules to make sure i win.”
“really? oscar and logan let you do that growing up while they were around?”
“no, they put a stop to that when i turned 14,” she presses her lips together and rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “but they can’t erase that trait when i spent my whole life polishing it.”
sebastian blinks. “seriously?”
“yeah,” she nods excitedly. “how do you think i got this scar above my brow?”
“from falling down.”
“no, ciara and i fought cause i changed the rules at the last second so that i’d win and then she attacked me.” she lets a moment pass when sebastian finally lifts his head to stare at her. “we were playing uno — it’s a very intense game.”
he furrows his eyebrows. “get out of my office, rocky!”
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sebastian approaches the two hunched over in the corner. “have you guys seen rocky?”
logan lifts his head. “rocky? who the hell is that?”
“hey, what are you guys doing?” they turn around, seeing the younger driver with an ice cream pint in her hand with mick trailing behind her.
“i told you to stop eating ice cream, god damn it!” sebastian screams, hands darting forward to grab the pint from her.
“hey, it’s the lactose intolerant one!” she shrieks, running to hide behind mick. the pint pokes out of the side towards logan. “want some?”
logan nods, taking the pint from her. “yeah, sure.”
“wait,” oscar speaks up, waving his arms in the air. “seriously, who is rocky?”
“this dumb ass,” sebastian scoffs, gesturing at the girl now eating her ice cream again. “all she ever eats is rocky road! hence, rocky! breakfast is rocky road, lunch is rocky road—”
“dinner is rocky road,” she mocks, stabbing her spoon into her pint. “it’s okay that i’m eating this because mick got me the no milk version!”
“that doesn’t even make sense! chocolate has milk in it! so does ice cream! do you know what ice cream is made out of?”
mick sighs. “she wouldn’t stop bugging me for ice cream, okay?”
logan laughs, throwing his head back. he clasps his hands together, “tomorrow we’ll teach you how to say ‘no’ to rocky. it took us a long time to figure it out too.”
“really? that’s just what everyone is gonna call me now?” she tilts her head, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “we spend our whole lives without giving me a nickname and seb just comes along and calls me ‘rocky’ and everyone is just gonna ride along with that?”
“yeah, you can say that,” oscar nods with a smile. “it’s fitting, anyway. you would die for rocky road ice cream… right?”
“fair argument.”
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“max,” oscar whispers. “have you seen rocky?”
max raises an eyebrow, pausing his conversation with charles. he tilts his head. “yeah, she’s in my garage.”
oscar throws his head back, blinking blankly at the older driver. “what would rocky be doing in your garage?”
“what do you mean? she’s part of my team,” max trails off in confusion, lips pursed in confusion. he glances at charles next to him, who simply shrugs and looks at oscar as well.
“no, she’s not. what business would she have being in your garage?” oscar raises an eyebrow. “unless you guys are scouting her for the future?”
“what? we’ve had rocky on the team for months.”
“she wouldn’t do that. she doesn’t like red bull.”
“red bull literally created her.”
“no they didn’t.”
charles furrows his eyebrows, looking between both of them. “see, i don’t think you guys are talking about the same thing.”
max points at oscar. “what are you talking about?”
“who are you talking about?”
“my race car? her name is rocky.”
oscar’s frustration slowly washes away as realisation dawns over him. he’d completely forgotten that max named his car. he laughs slightly. “right! sorry, mate. i was talking about (y/n),” he explains. “rocky.”
max raises an eyebrow. “who passed the bill to call her that?”
“seb.”
“oh, seb is good with nicknames!” charles beams, patting oscar’s shoulder. he presses his lips together. “why rocky though? that doesn’t really…”
“she eats a lot of rocky road ice cream,” oscar smiles. “therefore, the nickname.”
max frowns. “she’s got the same name as my car… that’s not… that will be confusing.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @darleneslane @inejismywife @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando
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swordsandholly · 2 months
Text
Treat Me Gently (Because No One Else Will)
Ch 1: The Arrangement | next | masterlist | Ao3
Ghoap x reader | MDNI 18+ | cw: PiV sex, fingering
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You yawn and stretch, back popping all the way up as you finally give it some reprieve from your hours of sitting at your low coffee table that doubles as your work station. As much as you try to stop hunching like a goblin, you always slip back into it. It’s hard when your mind gets lost in the words and the pages flying by. Good posture seems to equal bad writing, unfortunately.
Your knees pop slightly as you stand up from your cushion that doubles as a ‘chair’, decidedly clocking out for the evening. Really, you should have stopped two hours ago, but you just can’t get this one damn scene right. You sigh, heading to your dresser to change out of your “work” clothes and into a ratty, oversized shirt and pajama shorts. Your phone dings just as you go to stand in front of the fridge that you already know is practically empty.
S >> Come over?
S >> I got takeout.
You snicker. Perfunctory and presumptuous, as usual. He timed it out for when he knew you’d be done with work - even taking in your propensity to go well passed your designated office hours. He probably knew you were out of food, too. Not that you’d ever expect less from Simon Riley.
>> Give me 5
You pad across the the hallway between your flats, the dangling of your keys echoing off the old walls. The floorboards always creak, announcing your presence before you could even knock on the door. Simon’s place is bigger than yours - a one bedroom as opposed to your studio. Both have small balconies, his furnished with only two fold-out chairs. You’ve tried to convince him to get a plant or something, but he just insists it will die in a day despite that being literally impossible. The whole of the apartment is sparsely decorated - the main features being that of his well worn L-shaped couch and the fancy surround sound system Simon installed. The rest of it made up of shelves lined with physical media and books.
“Evenin’.” Simon says from his kitchen as you let yourself in. He stands at the island, broad shoulders hunched as he fiddles with something.
The lock clicks behind you when you shut the door. Some soft classical music drifts from the speakers. You don’t recognize it, but you also know that asking will result in a lecture that will undoubtedly become a pop quiz at a later date. You don’t need another Tchaikovsky incident on your hands.
“Sushi?” Your brows raise as you eye the rolls and sashimi. He really went all out. “What’s the occasion?”
Simon shrugs, plating the food up on his uniform black, square plates. Yours sits neatly on a plate of it’s own, soy sauce and all. Sometimes you wonder if he keeps an index of your take out orders or if his memory is just that good. “Shipping out soon. Figured I’d get it while I could.”
You grin and move behind him. He shivers slightly as you push your cool hands up under his shirt to run along his strong core. “Doesn’t have anything to do with the whole aphrodisiac thing?”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, bird.” Simon feigns ignorance. The corner of his mouth briefly quirks up before he forces it back down.
“Sure, sure.” You retract your hands, wandering over to pick up the TV remote off the well worn coffee table. “Which movie are we on?”
“Blackwell Ghost 5.”
You settle in your usual spot on the couch, leaning on the right armrest. Simon has always liked the middle - he says it’s the best for his back. You know it’s just because he likes to manspread five miles wide. It doesn’t bother you, as you generally prefer to curl up in the corner with your feet tucked. The movie rolls and you eat in comfortable silence, humming around the fresh food. He really does spoil you, sometimes.
You eye Simon while you eat. With anybody else this would all be pretense - an unnecessary preamble to imply, somehow, that this is more than a booty call. Not with Simon. Never with Simon. This is just as important as the rest of it. You watch the way his hands practically dwarf the single-use chopsticks, the way his body melts into the cushions. Your eyes rake over the strong planes of his face littered with various scars; his nose broken one too many times, the ear that’s been slightly clipped by a bullet. His hair has grown out and more stubble sprinkles across his jaw than he usually allows.
“Wotcha lookin’ at?” Simon mumbles around some tuna.
You tilt your head, smiling. “You’re fun to watch.”
“Creep.” He nudges your foot with his knee.
“Freak.” You push back.
“’ow’s the book goin’?” Simon asks.
You groan, shoving your last piece of sushi in your mouth while you debate your answer. “S’fine. Slow. My agent is being a real pain in my ass.”
He hums, that slight smirk gracing his lips. If you knew him any less you might have missed it entirely. “Need some inspiration?”
You sputter out a laugh, placing your plate on the coffee table. “Very smooth, Riley.”
“C’mere.” Simon rumbles, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you over his lap. It’s almost uncomfortable how far you have to stretch to accommodate his hips, but its so worth it as his hands rest on your waist, grinding you down against him. You gasp, giving him entrance to press his lips to yours - tongue flicking over your lower lip.
One hand tangles in his hair, the other caressed downward, shoving his shirt up and tracing the lines of muscle across his torso. You’ve always loved bodies - loved taking in their shapes and texture, their variety - and Simon’s has so much to take in. Ridges of muscle and scars, plus that little plush layer over his middle he gets while home from deployment. You tug on his shirt, only breaking the kiss long enough to yank it off and toss it somewhere on the floor.
“Y’so fuckin’ pretty…” Simon mumbles, hands wandering from your waist, to your hips, to knead at your thighs and the curve of your ass.
You squeak as Simon lifts you, locking your legs around his waist. No matter how many times he does it, his strength still catches you off guard. He doesn’t unlock from your lips, moving back to his room purely based on muscle memory. You have to resist the urge to tease him about the time he knocked your head against the doorframe in this exact position.
Your hands drift over the curvature of his broad shoulders as he lays you back on his bed. You can’t help but be fascinated by him - all hard muscle and sinew. So different from your own soft figure. Even the pads of his fingers are rough as they push under your oversized t-shirt, kneading at the soft layer over your middle.
“This okay?” Simon mumbles in your ear. You nod vigorously as his hands move up, up, up until he’s pulling your shirt and bralette off in one swift motion.
Simon buries his face in your chest, nipping at the sensitive skin before taking a nipple in his mouth. You arch into the touch, unsure of where to put your hands and opting to let them wander.
“May I?” He murmurs, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear and sleep shorts. Again, you nod, forgetting that isn’t enough for him at this stage. “Use your words.”
“Yes! Please, Si.” You whine, rolling your hips against the too-light touch.
Simon chuckles at you, pulling your bottoms off and dropping them onto the floor somewhere. He runs his fingers between your folds, obviously reveling in the way your breath catches and your chest heaves when he finally circles your clit. His lips connect with yours, swallowing every gasp and moan as he presses a finger inside.
“Fuckin’ tight t’night, bird.” He grumbles into your mouth. “‘ave I been neglecting you?”
Quite the opposite. If anything, he’s fucked you silly this past week, but you can’t exactly argue that when he presses against your g-spot and retakes your nipple between his teeth.
“Oh, fuck!” You moan as a second finger joins the first. Your nails dig lightly into his shoulders when he pressed his thumb against your clit, moving in short circles to the rhythm of the fingers inside you. You swear he’s too dexterous to be human sometimes.
You keen, body tensing as stars dance behind your eyes. You can feel the slickness of your cunt on your thighs, the squelch of Simon’s slowed movements almost too lewd.
He only disappears long enough to shuck off his pants before he’s hovering back over you, tucked into the crook of your neck. Simon gives you a moment to come down, cooing praises in your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me. Always so good f’me.”
He sits back to lightly tap his cock against your pussy, sending jolts up your spine, obviously enjoying your reaction. He grinds his cock against you, sliding easily between your soaked folds. “Christ.”
Simon reaches into the nightstand, plucking a condom out from their designated spot. He hands it to you for inspection, as always. You don’t really understand why he still does it after the two of you have had this standing agreement for so long, but it’s not a gesture you’re going to call into question. Some of Simon’s sexual habits are simply best left as they are - they’re always for your mutual benefit, anyway. You flip it over in your fingers briefly before passing it back.
No matter how many times you take him, it’s always a stretch. He’s not the biggest you’ve had, but thick enough the sensation would teeter into pain without any preparation. That’s another thing he insists on: pain has no place in intimacy.
Your lips fall open in a pitchy moan - hands fisting the sheets on either side of you. Simon falls onto his forearms resting on either side of your head. You revel in the way he cages you in, the way his tongue laps at the sweat-slicked skin of your collar bone. You both sigh in sync as his hips finally settle against yours.
You wrap your legs tightly around his back as he begins to move. A solid rhythm slowly turning into something more desperate. Simon sits up, his weight suddenly off you. Just as you crack your eyes open his hands grab tightly onto your hips, lifting them just off the bed. The new angle ruts him against that spot inside you, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm faster than you can process it.
He eventually lets go of your hips, one hand braces by your head, the other tracing your body. Plucking at your nipples, kneading at the flesh of your thighs, pressing onto your soft stomach to emphasize the fullness with him inside you.
“Give me another.” Simon demands, thumb pressing to your clit. His eyes bore through you, watching your every minute expression. “C’mon, one more, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. A rarer pet name - one you’d probably be pissed about coming from anyone else. With Simon it melts into your bones, pooling at the base of your spine. Your eyes roll back, pathetic sounds and babbling falling from your lips as you cum again in such a short span.
“Fuck.” He grunts, voice low and breathless in your ear. “Cunt feels so fucking good when you cum f’me.”
You whine, useless under him. Your limbs are utter jelly. Even as you try to roll your hips with his, your movement is stuttered. Uncontrolled. You know he enjoys how sensitive you are, how pliant you become. It feeds his ego - the part of him that needs to do things right. Your body shudders under Simon’s as he groans, all depth and gravel, his hips stuttering and slowing as he cums.
You both stop, for a moment, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath enough for Simon to push himself up, tying off the condom and tossing it before falling into his back beside you.
A silence lapses over you - the only sound in the room is that of your breathing with a slight pitch difference between your breaths. You’ve always loved this part. The quiet afterglow. The gentle way Simon will reach over to soothe down your hair while you lazily meet his eye. No words, no expectations. Just existing with someone in your vulnerability. With someone you know is safe.
“Go piss.” Simon points to the bathroom as soon as his breath is even.
You snort, pushing yourself up on slightly shaky arms. “So demanding.”
“So considerate.” He quips back. “It’s important.”
“Fine, fine.” You throw your hands up and pad off to the bathroom. You pause, looking at yourself in the mirror. What is it about Simon’s bathroom that makes you so much more beautiful than your own? Your skin glows nicely, your hair shines even as it’s mussed up from getting fucked six ways to Sunday.
When you come back Simon’s sitting up against the headboard, scrolling through something on his phone. You crawl back into bed beside him, flopping on your back and staring at the ceiling fan as it circles, circles, circles.
“When do you have to leave?”
He sighs, dropping his phone back onto the nightstand. “End of the week.”
You nod, accepting the oncoming semi-dry spell as usual. You’ve always wondered what he does when he’s gone - if he has another you out there. Another arrangement. You can’t imagine Simon going more than a couple days without someone. That’s what brought you into this in the first place - a mutual benefit. You don’t truly feel the need to ask; it’s more curiosity than anything and you don’t want the question to go misinterpreted. Not that Simon would, necessarily, he’s always been good about taking your words at face value.
With a sigh, you roll onto your side to face him, head propped on your hand. “Know where you’re heading?”
“Mexico.” Simon grunts in that tone that signals you to stop asking questions.
You trail your fingers over his chest, through the dusting of blonde hair. “Wanna go again?”
“Fuck yes.” He rolls over. You can’t help but giggle as he knocks your knees apart and eagerly plants himself between your thighs.
banner by @the-aesthetics-shop
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simonbrain · 8 days
Text
ghoap being selfish bastards and stringing you along with their affection. it's hard letting someone into their lives; so many risks come with the job, and to add a civvie to that mess? it's not fair to you.
but they also can't seem to leave you alone. even when they push you away after you show the slightest sign of wanting to take things further than being fuck-buddies, they still keep an eye on you. even when you tell them you don't want anything to do with them anymore, they still show up at your front door. even with teary eyes while you're spitting venom at them, rightfully hurt by their confusing actions, they still think you're beautiful.
you just want to know why they rub it in your face. why they flaunt their unbreakable bond, knowing that there's no space for you except for when they want to sink deep into your holes, leaving their marks. why they can't just decide if they want you or not. it's a risk being with them, you know this, but you just want something for yourself for once in your life. it seems like they're not even giving you a damn chance to prove yourself worthy of their love.
(it hurts so badly to push you away, but they must.)
they're causing you so much distress, not to mention the stress from your job piled on top of that. who wouldn't become resentful towards them? you open your home to them, your legs, your heart—god. what fucking assholes. what did you expect from two military men? they really are just heartless machines.
(no one else has made you feel so whole in years, for the best and for the worst.)
you stop responding to their messages and calls; you curse them both out when they show up at your door separately and again when they show up together, and now you just want to heal from something that didn't even fucking happen. it's pathetic, but you really did love like them. it's hard falling asleep without johnny's obnoxious snoring in your ear or simon's big arms wrapped securely around you, but you'll manage. it's quiet on the drive to work without johnny cranking up some random scottish rapper before simon scolds him and hands the aux to you, giving you the best start to your day, but you'll be fine. it's disheartening when you return home to nothing but a dim lamp in the corner, no greasy takeout waiting for you on the table, or two pairs of ears eager to listen to the shit that went down at work today, but you'll get over it.
then months later they see you at a bar. johnny's trying his best to not just slide up to you and purr into your ear about how gorgeous you look, how blue's his favourite colour and this shade looks so good on you, and did ye wear this tight lil thing just for me, hen? simon's not doing any better; there's a you-shaped hole in his chest, and he wants nothing more than to go home with you and johnny under each arm, but they know they lost their chance with you.
they know this because when you finally catch the source of whoever the hell is staring holes into your head, there's no falter. there's nothing in your eyes that says you want them anymore—you look at them, then look away.
(they don't know your heart still aches for them.)
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acowardinmordor · 2 months
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I kinda want a fic where Eddie is straight. Strong Ally, totally safe, but the guy is straight. There's a few months after they successfully take down Vecna that he and Robin and Steve are all besties, living in each others' pockets. During that time, he makes a lot of jokes that Steve is going to make a great housewife someday, makes some comments that aren't quite jokes that he wishes Steve was a girl, and has some very much suppressed thoughts that the only thing stopping them is that Eddie isn't attracted to men.
Near the end of the summer, before Steve is going to follow Robin to Sarah Lawrence, Steve comes out as bi to the whole group, and Eddie, for the first time, unashamedly thinks, damn, if only I wasn't straight. Steve even gets brave a few days before they leave and broaches the topic of Steve having a crush on Eddie. Keeps saying that he's not going to hit on Eddie, but wanted to take the chance, just in case Eddie had ever thought about it.
"Sorry, Steve, I only date girls."
And the awkwardness isn't the only reason the three drift apart, but it doesn't help. They send letters and post cards between Chicago and New York, and try to call at least once a month, but they're all broke, and long distance is expensive. Two years out, and Eddie knows something weird is happening with Steve and Robin, but they don't want to talk about it. They still talk, they're still friends, they'd still die for each other, but there is something they're hiding from him. Three and a half years out, and the bureaucrats finally got their act together. 'Thanks for not telling anybody' checks get sent to everyone in the know. Very large checks.
Robin graduates, and she and Stevie have a comfortable cushion. They don't have to take horrible minimum wage jobs anymore, and some expensive things they've been saving up to do for a while can finally happen.
This is where the fic in my head actually starts.
Eddie hears all about Los Angeles from Robin, but she tells him that Stevie isn't feeling great after the trip, and that Eddie will get a letter soon.
Its four months later, almost exactly four years since the three last saw each other in person when they finally meet again. Robin got a job in Chicago, and Eddie is still there, now a full artist in a tattoo parlor, playing gigs for fun with random friends. Stevie, of course, follows Robin, and Eddie tries hard not to stay upset with the guy for the weirdness and the sometimes silence, and the very obvious distance that Steve put between them recently.
Then they see each other. Meeting up at what has to be the queerest bar in the city, and it takes Eddie way, way too long to put together what's waiting at a booth along the wall. He's an ally, he's heard all the terms and types and nodded along in supportive silence because he doesn't get it, but he's trying.
But there's Robin, sitting on the outside, with a brunette beside her, possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie has ever seen, strong, tall, long wavy chestnut hair, and a spattering of very distinct moles. The little bit of a smile she has when Eddie first comes over melts into something small and scared as Eddie stares in shock. It's Stevie, it has to be, and Robin's exclusive use of what was once only a nickname suddenly makes more sense. He knows he needs to make sure he's using the right name, pronouns, whatever she wants. He's friend of a friend with a couple trans people, and again, he doesn't get it, but he listened, and he cannot fuck this up, because it's Stevie and this must be what they were hiding, but the inside of his brain sounds like an endless loop of mic feedback for a solid sixty seconds.
Sixty seconds is an insanely long time.
Before his brain turns over and he can smile and reach the table, Stevie has shrunk into the corner, and Robin looks ready to launch herself at Eddie's throat in her soulmate's defense.
A whole list of intrusive thoughts hit Eddie all at once while his mouth runs on autopilot, asking the right questions, smiling encouragingly, introducing himself to, yes, Stevie Harrington, and dragging the mood to a happy place by sheer force of will. Stevie starts to uncurl, smiles a little brighter, sits up straight, laughs properly at Eddie's dumb stories about terrible tattoos, and leans closer as the night goes on.
He fixes the weirdness he started in his shock, because there is no way in hell he's not going to keep two of his best friends now that they live in the same city again.
But his head is stuck spiraling around a snarl of horrible, selfish, invasive thoughts. The worst of which: Stevie is now Stevie because Eddie told her that he only liked girls. And he knows thats stupid and isn't why Stevie made this choice, and he hates himself for thinking it, but the thought is still there. That Eddie wanted so badly that she's now Stevie. Another, only slightly less horrible thought, is that the immediate fairytale ending he imagined on first sight - might be ruined because Eddie is still straight, and he's just not sure about, you know, the details.
Eddie did a great job that first night, and they're back to hanging out all the time as soon as the last boxes are unpacked. It is not Stevie's fault that seeing her in a sports bra for the once confirmed that the payouts, the LA trip, and her new shirt size were related. It's not her fault that Eddie can't stop thinking about how hot she is.
It's absolutely not her fault that Eddie starts getting weird around her. He's trying, okay? He's trying so hard. But its weird for him. He likes her. That part he's certain of. Loves her, almost definitely. He thinks she's gorgeous, high confidence on that part too. He has a crush, but he knows, deeper than the rest, that Stevie isn't confident in herself yet. She acts it most of the time, but its under the surface, a thread of fear that she's not girl enough to count.
And Eddie has a crush. And Eddie can't tell her. Because Eddie won't put them in a situation where Stevie's pants come off, and Eddie suddenly can't see her as the woman she is. It would hurt Stevie so bad, and Eddie would never forgive himself.
It's not like he can ask her just how much surgery she got in LA so he can prepare. And honestly, he's not sure it would matter one way or the other. He's terrified that whatever her choice, Eddie will fuck up his reaction. The risk is unsolvable. Robin calls him out on his crush two months later, and since the other choice is even worse, Eddie lies, and says she's wrong. No crush. Nope. Not even a tiny one.
Eddie tries to will himself into becoming bisexual for an entire month, going so far as making out with a very feminine twink at a club - he thought he'd ease his way into this - but he's still decidedly straight. Rubbing against the twink's remarkably small dick wasn't repulsive, but it didn't do anything for him either. Sure, he learns there's all kinds of pleasurable things to try that he didn't know about, but he's still not into anyone but girls.
(I don't know if this is the right resolution bc Ive spun Eddie pretty tight here, but this is getting so long. )
Robin's girlfriend has a party at a gay bar for her birthday. Obviously, Eddie and Stevie are invited, and obviously, just like every other day on this earth, Stevie looks incredible. She has a sparkly dress and tall boots and glitter on her collarbones and Eddie wants to lick her. His lovelorn staring only gets worse as the night goes on. Stevie is dancing, and Eddie is drinking at the bar with a collection of purses and carabiners of keys slung around and clipped to him. It's obvious enough that a gay couple - Nick and Chris - starts teasing him about it, telling him to man up and ask the pretty girl to dance already.
Eddie is too drunk for this, and he for sure has a guilt trip later for it, but he just starts talking. All of his fears and all of his love, and how he can't ever say anything because he's tried, and he's straight anyway, and he loves Stevie too much to hurt her like that. It's an entire miracle that Eddie broke down in front of a decent pair of human beings, and not some assholes. They sweep him off to a quieter corner outside, help him calm down as he smokes, and feed him some fries.
Eddie is still wearing purses like bandoliers, is snotty and red eyed, is on his third cigarette and fourth whiskey, and resisting the need to runaway forever when the older of the couple calls over someone named Angel. A woman who, if Eddie was not hopelessly in love with Stevie, would be the source of an immediate new crush. She's older than he is, thin through the waist, thick thighs, bottle blonde hair in a ponytail, and has a few inches on Eddie with her heels. The primal part of his brain wants to climb her like a tree.
'Hi Chris. Oh, honey, you having a rough night?" Angel has a few words with Chris, then grins like the cat who caught the canary.
'You're gonna be my good karma for the month, cutie. You are attracted to me, no don't try, thats a cute blush but I can still see it behind your hair, you are. You're straight, right? Yeah, that's why you think I'm hot. Hey, Chris? Do you think I'm hot?"
"Not at all, babe. You know I only go for men."
Angel turns back to Eddie and leans close to explain. 'Chris is a bit of a man whore. Loooooves dick. Don't worry, he says it all the time. Favorite thing in the world, and I've heard he's great at sucking dick. Tragically, I never get to find out, because I'm not a guy.' She pushes the word a little. Then she steps even closer so she's pressed against his side.
Arousal sweeps through him because in love with Stevie or not, Angel is hot as hell. 'Wanna go fool around in the bathroom?' she whispers
Eddie is definitely tempted, already nodding, but doesn't get to speak. Angel rolls her hips. He feels -- A new bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. 'this change your mind at all?' Her voice drops two octaves, and Eddie's brain breaks.
Because, as it turns out, no. No, it does not change his mind. He's half hard, he still wants to climb her, and he's not entirely sure how to get her off, but he takes direction well.
'Aww, figure yourself out, already, honey? Or do you want to test run this a bit more before you go for it?' Angel is back to her real voice, a high alto. She has one hand on his chest, and Eddie can hear Nick laughing nearby. 'I won't lie, I know I won't get to keep you, but you look like we could have a real fun time as I teach you. Happy to get you trained up for her'
Eddie shakes his head, an insane mix of bubbly and numb.
'Ohhh, so you're gonna go get your girl?' She's teasing him.
Eddie nods, already moving, vaguely aware of more laughter and jokes about karma and saving lost lambs, but too fixated to listen. He's still carrying all the purses. He's not entirely sure where Stevie is in the bar. He has absolutely no idea what he's going to say when he finds her. Still not sure how to worship her properly. Extremely interested in following directions on the topic.
Eddie is still straight, but luckily, the girl of his dreams is dancing inside, and the rest of the details don't matter in the face of the possibility of finally asking her out.
When he finally chases her down at a high top with a cosmo, she laughs at how he looks, but he's never, ever seen her smile like she does when she agrees to a date with him.
--
This is sort of about a friend as they worked through realizing they weren't attracted to their wife after she transitioned, but that was sad, and this needed to not be. I guess I'm just thinking about the non-fanfic nature of life. Where it takes a guy a long while to figure himself out, because good intentions are separate from shifting how you think. Basically wanted Eddie in a situation where he has to reconcile the difference between gender and anatomy, and rewrite his own definitions of what he is and isn't attracted to. Robin had to go through a similar thing as she became attracted to Steve but only in the abstract. They're too platonic for gender to stop their bond
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maya1525 · 8 months
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Kissing Practice 🍃💨
18+ MDNI
Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto
WARNINGS✩࿐Fem!Reader giving & receiving oral, cream pie, rough fucking, fingering, choking, group sex, cursed technique usage during sex. Substance use, language, smoking, shotgunning.
Word count✩࿐11.3K
BONUS✩࿐Everyone is high out of their minds
Summary✩࿐Young Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto are friends with the other female Jujitsu Sorcerer in their class. The innocent Fem!Reader gets high with both men and accidentally asks if one of them could teach her how to kiss. She ends up getting more than she bargained for.
A/N✩࿐ Here’s my playlist of inspiration✨(sorry Spotifers, I’m a YouTube Premium Girl) This was an idea I had on my mind shortly after watching the first few episodes of season 2. I didn’t plan on it being this long! I hope you enjoy it!
Sex is like a sinful pool of honey, tonight you dipped your toe in to test the waters, but you weren’t able to take your toe out. Instead, the pool of pleasure had a mind of its own and pulled you under. You couldn’t breathe, regardless you didn’t care. You were drowning in it, and your whole body was lost in pure ecstasy. You felt like you hit a revelation within yourself, who knew that sinful acts could be so exhilarating? You felt hyper-aware of your body and you felt even more in tune with yourself. Tonight you will share your soul with Suguru and Satoru, and the three of you will be forever intertwined.
“What’s up Y/n? The za too good for you?” Satoru teased with an annoying smirk, as he playfully poked your cheek. He had caught you midway through spacing out. Your mind whirled trying to muster up a good comeback, but you couldn’t respond quickly enough. “Suguru look at her, she’s completely out of it,” Gojo said to his friend humorously. Now Geto was eyeing you with amusement.
“Roll us another hun, this one’s almost done.” The black-haired man instructed as he handed you a brown paper wrap.
A few previous smoke sessions ago, Suguru admitted that he likes it when you wrap the blunts. So now it’s your job whenever you smoke with them. You don’t mind it though, you like the praise he gives you whenever you wrap a good-looking dart.
You obediently leaned forward on the edge of the couch to reach the coffee table. You began to break the large green clusters down into fine pieces. Pulling the weed nuggets apart with your sharp fingernails. You set the stems off to the side as you added small sage green crumbs to the wrap. You made sure all the little clusters were consistent in size and spaced out evenly on the paper. Even though you guys were almost done smoking the first dart, you felt incredibly buzzed.
“Cat got your tongue, Y/n?” Suguru said as the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “You’ve been quiet for a while.” His voice rang out like smooth honey.
“Mmh, nothing. I’m just high.” You mumbled to yourself without thinking, earning a chuckle from both men.
“Damn, you’re such lightweight Y/n! That’s a knee-slapper.” Satoru wheezed as he leaned over and slapped Geto’s knee aggressively. The two jostled you a bit when they hit each other. Furthermore, their rough horseplay didn’t deter you from finishing up the wrap. You carefully brought the brown rolled-up paper to your mouth and began to lick its edge from left to right. Once it was damp with your saliva you closed the blunt. Holding it delicately in place to keep its shape, it was perfectly symmetrical.
“How’d I do?” You directed your attention to Geto handing him your accomplishment. After breaking the clusters down, your fingers became a sticky crumbly mess - it would feel wasteful to wash it off. You began to lick your weed-covered fingers clean. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel Gojo watching you intently as you brought your dainty fingers to your lips.
Geto eyed you briefly and then to the blunt with approval, “It looks great Y/n, you did an amazing job.”
“Yeah? You think so?” You beamed up at him; feeling warmth well up in your chest at his praise. Out of everyone you met, his words always seemed to have a great effect on you.
“Of course! You always do it perfectly. Wanna do the honors?” He gave you a sly smile as he handed it back to you. “I’ll light it, hun.” He whispered lowly.
You blushed slightly and nodded, you brought the blunt up to your lips and leaned in close to Suguru. His long slender fingers clasped the lighter and his thumb rolled over the dial, sparking a flame. As he brought the flame close to your face, you felt his left elbow lean against the couch next to your soldier. He was so close to you, that you could feel his warmth coming off of his body. You couldn’t help but notice how amazing he smelt. His scent reminded you of the warmth of fall, with a hint of something mysterious.
Once the end of the dart caught fire you inhaled and sucked on the blunt greedily as the tangy smoke filled your mouth. You swallowed the smoke down into your lungs and handed the wrap to Suguru.
Immediately, you began to cough from the rip you just took, your whole body shook as you felt your lungs twitch with irritation. You heard both men laugh at your feeble attempts to stop, but you had no luck. You felt your cheeks warm up with embarrassment as you covered your face shyly. Your whole body shuttered with each feeble cough that escaped from your lips. “S-stop *cough* laughing at me!” You croaked meekly.
“You’re such a pouty little child. How cute.” Geto chuckled, his attractive laugh echoed in your mind.
“I’m not…” you coughed once more, peaking at him through your hands and throwing your head back against the couch cushions impulsively. The music that played on the TV felt as if it was hitting you in waves. You feel high out of your mind and when you get like this, you notice words are hard to muster up.
“Not cute? Pshh, don’t be such a liar.” Satoru’s voice rang out, you felt his smooth fingers gently pry your hands away from your face to peek at you.
You shifted your attention to Gojo so your body was facing his. You felt your knees touching the side of his thigh. “Aww. So you think I’m cute?”
“Oh come on, don’t give me that shit. You’re hot and you know it. A girl with your type of looks has me confused though,” he paused taking a hit from the blunt, blowing its strong-smelling smoke in your face as you batted your pretty eyelashes up at him. “How do you not have a boyfriend yet? Is there anyone you like?” He coughed after taking that rip, it was a bit too pungent.
You felt your cheeks flush at his words. “Umm, well I can’t tell you that! If I do, it might not come true!” You giggled playfully, poking Satoru’s cheek the same way he poked yours earlier.
The icy-haired man arched a brow at you with amusement, “Not come true? Isn’t that the rule for wishing on stars?”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Suguru retorted while he French inhaled; the cloudy smoke rose from his mouth and into his nose in the most captivating manner. “So you going to tell us who this mystery guy is or what?” He teased as a strand of his inky black hair fell to the side of his face.
“I do like someone.” You admitted, now getting both men’s attention. “But I feel too embarrassed to do anything about it.”
“Oh come on, why do you have to be shy? Grow a pair and make a move! It’s easy, I’ll show you!” Satoru chuckled while bringing his face closer to yours, forcing you to look into his hazy ocean-blue eyes. You noticed how easy it was for Satoru to corner you and get you all hot and bothered by his actions. In response, you swatted him away playfully and leaned over to Suguru to take the blunt. You inhaled it, letting the smoke stay in your mouth for a brief moment before letting it exhale through your nose.
Gojo snatched the blunt from you. He inhaled from the dart and blew out three impressive smoke rings. With his cursed technique, he made the rings transform into a three-dimensional sphere. The large smoke bubble floated into the TV and popped, causing the room to get even more foggy.
“Don’t tell me it’s Nanami.” Geto croaked out mid-cough and laugh.
Satoru chuckled, “Man, can you imagine if Y/n and that strait-laced Kento got together?” Gojo addressed Suguru while stealing a glance at you.
“Yeah, she’d have to say goodbye to smoking with us, that’s for sure.” The Suguru responded, but then he shifted his attention back your way. “Why would you feel embarrassed to admit your feelings to him? What type of a guy is he?”
“Well, I’ve never been in a relationship before… and I feel like my lack of experience would be embarrassing.” You muttered bashfully while stealing the blunt back from Gojo. You wanted to avoid their eyes and look busy.
Overanalyzing yourself when you’re high is one of your weaknesses. You felt clouded out of your mind at this point, if only you were sober enough to come up with a good response. It mildly frustrated you, that the feelings you felt were too hard to verbalize. All while it felt like your body was vibing to the beat of the music, as if you were melting into the couch. It began to get hard to focus like an anchor was resting on your soul. Yet at the same time, you also felt like your state of consciousness was elevated to a higher plane of reality.
“That’s such a lame excuse.” Gojo blurted out, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Hmm, maybe it’s different for girls.” Suguru backed you up. “Some guys find innocent girls hot, I think you’ll be fine.” He winked at you when you glanced over at him. Geto lounged on the couch with his legs spread out and his palm resting on the back of his neck coolly, his warm faded gaze glued on you. The way he presented himself, spurred a random desire within yourself. The irrational thought of you climbing on top of his lap just to see his reaction, crossed your mind.
“So… how innocent are you Y/n?” Satoru eyed you with a cocky grin.
“I’ve um-“ you cut yourself off trying to focus on the correct words to use, “only ever hugged and held hands before. And that’s it.” You muttered, feeling a hot wave of mortification overcome you. You couldn’t believe you just admitted that to them!
“Oh? So you haven’t even kissed anyone?” Suguru asked nonchalantly while his narrowed gaze was fixated on you.
“No, would one of you like to teach me?” You blurted out jokingly, then immediately regretted it. You panicked in your clouded state, normal people don’t joke like that with their friends! How embarrassing, they’re going to turn you down and how will you ever recover? You practically just dug yourself your own grave.
“Yes.”
Both of the men say in union and for a split second, they exchange an irritated glare towards each other.
To your bewilderment, you couldn’t believe that both would like to kiss you. The alarm you felt earlier was immediately replaced with the thrilling feeling of fireworks going off in your brain.
“So which one of us would you want to teach you? I could give you a personal lesson right now Y/n.” Gojo’s seductive voice drew you in as you felt his hot fingertips lightly graze over your left arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“I-I can’t choose between you two.” You stammered nervously, “Do you think you both could teach me?” You asked, not wanting to hurt either of their feelings.
“At the same time?” Gojo inquired curiously.
“Right now?” Getou asked with a hint of excitement.
You could feel both of the men’s eyes burning holes in you. You noticed they were both sandwiching you on the couch, when did they close in on you? “I’m down to learn right now.” Your mousy voice broke the thick silence in the smoke-filled room.
In a frantic whirl, both men had you situated above one of their thighs. Suguru and Satoru sat side by side so their shoulders touched. You straddled Getou’s left leg and Gojo’s right. The look of anticipation on your face did little to hide your excitement yet overwhelming nervousness.
“Let’s start with something easy hun.” Suguru stated as he eyed you with desire, “I’m going to shotgun smoke into your mouth. You don’t have to worry about kissing yet. Just get used to the feeling of my lips.”
“Aww no fun, I just wanted to dive right in and make out with her,” Satoru whined playfully while turning the volume up on the TV. His blatant interest in you caused you to look down with an adorable blush on your face. “Damn, no need to be so bashful Y/n, you have nothing to worry about,” Gojo responded, reaching up to rest his left hand on your hip. His thumb rubbed comforting circles on you. The bold action stirred up an unfamiliar sensation in your stomach.
“When I press my lips against yours, inhale. Geto instructed while bringing the dart up to his lips. You naturally held your breath with the fluttering sensation of butterflies clouding your emotions.
Suguru’s hooded dark amber eyes glinted toward yours as he gingerly brought your chin closer to his. This was your first kiss and you wanted to memorize everything about it. In your smokey state of consciousness, you felt as if this moment was going in slow motion. As his face got closer to yours he closed his eyes, and you instinctively did the same. His smooth lips ghosted over yours which caused sparks to fly inside of your mind. You parted your lips while he opened his mouth to blow the harsh smoke into yours. You naturally inhaled just like you were supposed to. His lips softly brushed against yours, he delicately kissed your plump lower lip and pulled away. A subtle smile danced across his handsome features, as thin wisps of smoke slithered upward between your faces.
You felt as if your heart was beating a million miles per minute, Suguru handed you the blunt; purposely grazing his fingers against yours in the process. “Now do what I just did to Satoru.”
You brought the blunt up to your lips, inhaled, and held the smoke in your mouth as you shifted your weight onto Gojo’s lap. You gripped his broad shoulders for balance. In return, his hand that was on your hip snaked its way to your lower back, pulling you into him possessively. A surprised gasp came out of you as a sliver of smoke escaped from your lips. Satoru gave a hazed smirk at how easily he could fluster you. He leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against yours. You parted your lips to blow the foggy smoke into his awaiting mouth. You felt him suck the air out of your lungs, causing you to battle him for oxygen. You mustered up the courage to kiss him the way Suguru kissed you. Timidly, you kissed his upper lip as he greedily sucked your lower. You felt his molten tongue barge into your mouth and glide across your tongue. Feeling his tongue for the first time spurred a primal arousal deep inside of you. Not only was your head buzzing, but your lower region buzzed with excitement as well.
Gojo pulled away from your mouth as a small strand of saliva broke that connected your lips. With his free hand, he brought his thumb up to your lower lip to wipe off the little bit of drool. He kept his hot gaze on your lips for a brief moment before you felt Geto’s comforting hand guide your slim waist over to him.
“You’ll kiss her again Satoru. But right now it’s my turn.” Suguru spoke out huskily. He took the blunt from you to take a quick puff before handing it over to Satoru. With his tender grip on your waist, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. The strong-smelling smoke entered your mouth once more. Your mouth watered at its taste as you sucked it in. This time you made sure to kiss Suguru back while he moved his lips against yours expertly. You hesitantly brought one of your hands to the back of his head and gently tangled your slim fingers in his black cascading locks. As soon as you did that, you felt his hand on your hip glide down to your thigh. He squeezed your plump skin lightly, causing a muffled mewl of surprise to get swallowed by his lips.
The way he kissed you was a little different compared to Gojo’s style. Suguru seemed to focus on sucking and biting. While Satoru was playful and liked to utilize his tongue. You copied the way Geto moved his lips against yours; you alternated between nibbling and sucking his lips gently. You felt a rhythm form between you two the longer you kissed him. You memorized the feeling of his smooth lips and sharp teeth against your lips. You felt a bit more confident in the way you kissed Suguru, so you pulled away with a mischievous smile. You leaned over to kiss Satoru, who was watching you two intensely.
He immediately darted his tongue into your mouth and you greeted it with your own. His tongue wrestled yours for dominance and he easily overpowered you. You mirrored the way Gojo kissed you by using his style against him, which fired him up even more. He felt a bit more desperate with his kisses, while Suguru seemed to be slightly possessive. Being this close to Satoru made you realize how much you desired his scent, he smelt fresh and clean like a summer’s breeze next to a waterfall. You felt Geto lean in close to the two of you and latched his hot mouth onto your exposed neck. A muffled gasp of pleasure escaped from your lips and into Gojo’s mouth.
“Got tired of watching?” Mumbled Satoru cockily as his lips danced across yours for another hot kiss. No one has ever done that to your neck before. Suguru gently smooched your tender skin which caused chills of excitement to run across your body. His molten mouth felt so sensual on your sensitive neck. You suddenly felt so needy, and in your buzzed state, you decided to follow your instincts. You reached up to grab a hold of Getou’s broad shoulder, pulling him closer to you. All while you kissed Gojo, you made sure to tangle your free hand in his white hair. It felt like your body and your energy were colliding and entangling itself with theirs. You were able to sense their intense desire and excitement towards you, which felt like overpowering waves.
Your thoughts were interrupted when Suguru pulled away from your neck. He gently guided your face away from Satoru’s so he could steal some kisses from you. His mouth gently nibbled yours as he moved his lips against yours passionately. Gojo didn’t take it lightly when his dark-haired friend stole you from his grasp. So in return, he leaned forward and began to roughly kiss and suck on your neck. Knowing that he’d leave a few angry red marks. The hand Satoru had on your lower back, snaked its way to the inside part of your upper thigh. The feeling of his hand between your legs activated a wanton desire inside of you. Gojo delicately traced his fingers along your thigh, all the way down to your knee and then up, dangerously close to your center. He tested the waters and snuck his fingers underneath your skirt this time. His hand slid upward to the hem of your underwear but then darted lower to grip your leg firmly. This bold gesture caused your center to fire up with excitement. Suguru picked up on what his friend was doing to you so he brought his hand underneath your skirt too, but higher up of course. He rubbed his thumb in soft circles on your squishy thigh.
Gojo then pulled away from your neck to steal you back from Suguru. In return, Geto gently kissed your neck while he stroked the inside part of your thigh. You moved your mouth against Gojo’s with a sense of urgency now, you wanted them to touch you more. With two mouths working on you, you felt overwhelmed with sensations. Everything felt amplified, because of how high you were. It felt as if you were hyper-aware of every little touch and caress each man did to you. You didn’t want to ask them to take it further, so in your blurred state of consciousness, you felt bold enough to make a move. You hesitantly brought your hand down to Suguru’s firm thigh as you feverishly made out with Gojo. You slowly traced your fingers higher up his leg until you felt a firm bulge in his pants. A sudden wave of nervousness washed over you causing you to freeze.
“Tch, no need to be so nervous Y/n…” Geto purred, he kissed a trail up your neck and whispered in your ear, “I can show you how to touch it if you want.”
“Show me.” You whimpered into Satoru’s mouth as you felt Suguru’s hand caress the top of yours. He guided your hand along his clothed shaft, he felt so hard and girthy. He controlled your hand with a bit more pressure. You heard him inhale sharply as your dainty hand rubbed his length. While you persistently stroked Geto’s growing dick, your mouth battled for dominance against Gojo’s. He wiggled his tongue into your mouth with immeasurable desire. It felt as if the room was on fire with passion, your clothes suddenly felt so restricting. Suguru’s pants seemed to get tighter the more you rubbed on him.
Geto greedily stole your mouth off of Satoru’s to kiss you excitedly. Gojo placed feather-like kisses on your neck and exposed collarbone, and you felt his hand inch it's way higher up your skirt. You sensed Satoru’s hot fingers lightly prodding your pussy lips from the outside of your underwear. The pleasurable sensations drove you wild, you could feel your panties dampen tremendously.
Your curious fingers traced the outline of Suguru’s cock and you were able to feel his bulge twitch when you neared his tip. “Fuck.” Geto hissed out in satisfaction.
“I want to do so much more to her Suguru…” Gojo groaned while giving your neck a heated and sloppy kiss.
“Y/n’s pretty innocent. We don’t want to spoil her if she has her heart set on another guy,” Geto mumbled against your lips.
Gojo hooked his finger into your panties, his finger glided over your slick folds in the process. “Mmh, Satoru!” You moaned quietly as he dipped the tip of his finger into your tight wet hole.
“You’d rather have the guy you like do these things to you, hun, wouldn’t you?” You felt him tug at your lace underwear with his reddish lust-filled eyes. “I don’t think I could hold myself back if we continue. Do you want us to take things further?”
You studied the flirtatious look on Satoru’s face for a brief moment, as you gathered your thoughts. You weren’t sober enough to think this over the way you would’ve liked, but the thought of experiencing more intimate pleasure with these two excited you. Without meaning to; you lightly squeezed Geto’s penis, causing his alluring dark eyes to light up as he flashed you a killer smirk. You felt Satoru’s fingertips sweetly stroke your pussy lips and a small needy whimper escaped your lips. “I-mmh.” Another sweet moan interrupted your sentence when you felt his finger gently rub over your clit.
You looked over at Geto whose dark eyes had a mischievous glint in them. “What is it dear?” Suguru teased with a sly smile on his handsome face.
“I want- ahh.” This time Satoru pressed on your clit with a bit more pressure, causing sparks of ecstasy to bubble up inside of you for a split second. Both Geto and Gojo were extremely turned on by your sexy little sighs and gasps of delight. They both wanted to make you feel good. Yet, the greedier side of their personalities wanted to claim you as theirs and deflower you, before you ended up with the guy you liked.
You removed your hand from Suguru’s bulge and ghosted your fingers over the button on his pants, you looked up at him for permission. “Teach me how to be a good girlfriend-“ You got cut off with a feverish kiss from Suguru, and you felt his hand grip your ass firmly. You pulled away to finish your sentence, but when you did Gojo sneakily pressed his lips onto yours, as his fingers teased your dampening pussy lips. “Don’t hold back.” You said almost innocently with a sweet smile on your pretty face.
“If that’s what you want, then unbutton our pants dear,” Suguru instructed, while bringing the blunt up to his lips.
“Fuck.” Satoru growled as he leaned forward to give you a heated kiss, he deliberately grabbed your hands and led them down to the tent in his pants. “Unbutton mine first.” He murmured urgently into your mouth. Excitement rose inside of you. You obediently did what he ordered and your nimble fingers worked at freeing his dick from its confines. Once his zipper went down, the bulge in his boxers seemed to grow even more. Like a delightful present just for you. You felt the heat coming off of his hidden shaft. You looked up to see Gojo giving you a buzzed smile with the blunt in between his lips. “Go on, take it out to play.” His blue eyes looked at you with a burning passion in the dark hotboxed room.
Without thinking you lowered his gray boxers down to see his large and lengthy dick spring free. Your mouth instinctively watered at the sight of his delicious-looking cock. Even though it looked heavy, it surprised you with how it stood up on its own. Before you could reach out and touch it, Geto guided your hands over to his crotch. You knew what he wanted and undid his restraints as well. Within seconds his elongated dick stood up proudly like Gojo’s. Both men’s cocks were quite similar in length, but Suguru’s leaned a little to the left and Satoru’s to the right.
It looked like both of their horny rods were pointed toward you. They wanted you just as bad as you wanted them. You softly placed your left hand on Geto’s dick and your right hand on Gojo’s. Their smooth girths felt hot to the touch, both men naturally bucked their hips into your soft hands. This entire situation felt completely taboo and that turned you on tremendously. Your curious hands examined each man's shaft. Your fingertips felt every vein on their velvety dicks. It intrigued you when they would occasionally twitch in your hands.
Satoru put his hand over yours and pumped your smaller hand at a quick pace. “Can you keep this up, babe?” You got the idea and nodded when he removed his hand from yours. You jerked off each man in union. You loved how they would quietly groan to themselves in pleasure while you jacked them. Both men watched you with delight, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Gojo handing the blunt over to Geto.
You suddenly felt a small amount of hot slick wetness drip down onto your right hand. Satoru’s tip had leaked a bit of precum. You wiped your thumb over the head of his dick to watch more clear liquid ooze out. You looked over to Suguru’s tip, to see that he had a small droplet of milky white cum rolling down the side of his penis too.
“Get on your knees.” Geto’s smooth voice interrupted your ogling, so you did what you were told. Now that you were at eye level with both men’s rods, it made you realize how much larger they actually were. “Lick my tip, sweetheart,” Suguru instructed while inhaling on the blunt. He blew the delicious-smelling smoke down onto you, as you brought your face closer to his upright cock.
His dick practically loomed over your face with its impressive length. You made sure to keep pumping Gojo’s length as you brought your pert lips to Suguru’s clean-scented shaft. Your mouth water with anticipation. You brought your heated gaze to Geto’s, while your molten tongue gingerly licked his tip.
Geto hissed out in pleasure when he felt your slick tongue glide across the head of his cock. Pride welled up in his chest knowing that his dick is the first one you put your mouth on.
Once your tongue came in contact with his precum the taste reminded you of tears. You licked his entire tip and worked your way lower down, so he was coated in your drool. His shiny penis reflected the light that came off of the tv in the dark smoke-filled room. You were about to put him inside of your mouth when Satoru guided your head over to his needy dick.
“Suck me.” Satoru hummed softly while affectionately tangling his fingers in your hair. You lowered your mouth down to the tip of his hot cock. You made sure to pump Geto in your left hand, he was so slippery from your saliva. Jerking him off was effortless and you were able to glide your hand along his shaft quickly. You gently beckoned Satoru into your mouth with your sultry tongue. You were able to feel his dick throb against the roof of your mouth. You naturally wanted to make Satoru feel good, and you forced yourself to take him towards the back of your throat. Panic set in quickly when it became hard to breathe. Your throat instinctively squeezed the head of Gojo’s cock as you gagged on him.
“Easy babe…” Satoru groaned out sexily, vigorously enjoying your enthusiasm, “You don’t have to choke yourself. Take your time getting used to having a dick in your mouth.” He purred, just his voice alone made you dampen in your underwear.
You moved your mouth higher up his dick to focus on sucking his tip. You swirled your tongue around him curiously, he let out a pleasured exhale. “Mmh… yeah. Do that again.” He muttered as his brilliant blue eyes looked down at you with heated ratification. Suguru handed him the blunt and Satoru drew a greedy breath from the slowly shrinking dart. You swiveled your tongue around his sensitive tip while maintaining eye contact with him. Smoke flared from his nose as the tip of his tongue grazed over his top row of teeth with satisfaction.
You mustered up a bit more courage to take more of him into your mouth. This time you tried to calm your breathing as you alternated between sucking and moving your tongue along his shaft. He was much too big to fit in your mouth entirely, so you placed your right hand on the base of his shaft. “Can you move your head up and down Y/n?” Satoru instructed. You obliged, as you bobbed your head on his girthy cock. You found it easier to get used to having him deep in your throat with your quick movements.
With more confidence in having a dick in your mouth, you switched over to Geto’s erect cock. You licked his tip lovingly before engulfing him in your wet mouth. Suguru relished in the slick warmth your mouth provided. You sucked his tip and slowly worked your way down to his base. Feeling him that deep in your throat caused you to gag slightly, this was a tough feeling that you would have to get used to. You pushed the choking feeling aside, you wanted to make Geto feel good too. You held him there for a brief moment while he sweetly tangled his fingers in your hair.
“You’re doing so good, keep it up.” He cooed huskily; you felt your eyes well up with tears from the mild suffocation. Suguru couldn’t help but admire the way you looked as you struggled to have him in your throat. You felt his penis pulse inside of you, causing you to make a small muffled cough. Your time on his dick was cut short, “I think it’s time we advance this lesson a bit further.” He groaned out in pleasure as you sucked him like a straw. He reluctantly moved you off of his dick.
“Get undressed for us?” Satoru purred, his statement was more of an order than a suggestion.
You stood in front of both men as you unbuttoned your blouse. You could feel their eyes watching you intensely. Once you slipped your shirt off, you let your skirt pool down to your feet. There you were; standing before Gojo and Geto partially naked, yet entirely aroused. They admired your sexy bra and skimpy underwear. Your body looked so appetizing for the men, you felt like a rabbit on display for a pair of starved wolves.
With Gojo’s six eyes, he could sense how wet you already were. Suddenly, you became weightless and floated in the air. A surprised squeak escaped your lips, as you tried to comprehend what was happening. You felt your body direct itself without command and positioned above Gojo’s lap. A dashing smirk flashed across his face and within seconds he expertly pushed your panties to the side and placed his slippery dick against your entrance.
“Is this what you want?” He teased with a cocky laugh.
Feeling his dick against your needy opening sent waves of excitement rushing through your veins. You felt Gojo’s technique release and gravity pulled you down further onto his hot and ready dick. The tip had barely inserted itself into you causing discomfort at the stretch. Your knees dug into the couch on either side of him, and you hovered above him to prevent more of his meaty cock to penetrate you.
Geto picked up on your displeasure, “Slow down Satoru, she’s a virgin. Perhaps we should prepare her a bit more thoroughly.”
“Mmh, don’t be such a wet blanket Suguru. I was only teasing her.” Gojo chimed as he pushed his pelvis upwards, forcing about an inch of his dick to invade you.
“Ahh!” You whined at the stinging ache between your legs. Even though the pain was prominent, you couldn’t help but get aroused at such a close feeling with Satoru.
Gojo’s blue eyes began to glow, indicating his technique was at play. Your body floated off of his lap and upward. Your legs spread apart without your control, your left leg rested on Geto’s right shoulder and your right leg went over Gojo’s left. You felt your cheeks heat up in this vulnerable position.
Now both men were between your legs with a lustful look in their faded eyes. You could feel your pussy buzz with excitement. Suguru took the initiative and slid your panties to the side; exposing your pretty pink pussy. Your lips are slick with arousal, causing both men’s mouths to water. They couldn’t wait to try a taste. “Is it ok if we touch you down here?” Suguru hummed as he ghosted his index finger across your folds. Earning a needy sound to come from the back of your throat.
You nodded desperately, “please.”
Geto maintained his focused gaze on your red-hot cunt. He faintly traced the folds of your slippery lips with his pointer and index fingers. Gojo brought his hand to the inside of your thigh and lightly massaged the sensitive crook between your legs. His skilled fingers rubbing your crease, made you realize how sensitive you were there. You unintentionally squirmed underneath his hand. Small whimpers of delight escaped your lips when he massaged a bit deeper into your thigh. All while Suguru’s ghostly touches drove you up a wall, you wanted him to touch you so much more.
The burning passion these two men made you feel, felt incredibly intense. In your buzzed state, every touch they did to you felt amazing. Even though the teasing only just began you couldn’t stand it. Your entire body craved for more. As if Geto could hear your thoughts he lowered his mouth down onto your pussy. Before he came in contact with you, his dark eyes met yours, “You want me to eat you?” You felt his hot breath waft over your sensitive core.
“Mmh-hmm.” You mewed with excitement, the anticipation burned you up.
With his warm gaze fixated on yours, you saw the corner of his mouth tilt upward, “I’ll eat you only with one condition.” Suguru paused, almost drooling over your appetizing snack. “Who’s this guy you like?”
You felt your face heat up, “why do you wanna know-ahh!” Suguru slid his hot tongue up your pussy causing a delectable sensation to overcome your train of thought.
“Sorry couldn’t help myself,” Geto gave a mischievous smirk as he pulled a couple of inches away from your desperate cunt. “I only ask, because what Satoru and I are about to do to you… will cause you to lose interest in any other man you thought you liked.” Suguru stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Do you think you’ll still like him, after this?” Gojo asked while snaking his hand to your ass, gently squeezing your squishy flesh.
Their words slightly confused you. The way Geto phrased his statement and how Gojo asked that question; you couldn’t help but think that they might have deeper feelings for you. Otherwise, why worry about what you feel and who you like? You suddenly realized what tremendous power you had over them. “Mmh, I’ll tell you later.” You looked down at the men between your legs with a newfound confidence you didn’t know you had. “Also can you pass the blunt?” You flashed them a heart-stopping smile, rendering both Satoru and Suguru speechless.
“Here babe,” Satoru floated the blunt up to your lips with a tempting look in his hooded eyes. You inhaled as the smoke-filled your senses. Once you exhaled, the blunt sailed back down to Satoru’s lips. It was all so clear now, you felt like a queen atop her throne, looking down at her peasants. You felt it in your soul that both Gojo and Geto had deeper intentions for you, and the thought of that made your ego skyrocket.
With that being said, Suguru leaned forward and plunged his sneaky tongue inside of you. Pleasure shook you to your core and you instinctively clenched around him. He twirled his tongue around inside of you as his nose brushed against your clit deliciously. He retracted his tongue and smooched your clit hungrily, gently sucking and swiveling around your delicate bud in the process. His hot mouth drove you wild and amazing pleasure clouded your senses.
Satoru grew impatient even though Suguru had just started to devour you. Therefore, he leaned forward and began to kiss and suck on the inside parts of your thighs. While his kisses trailed up and down your leg, you felt his hand roughly fondle your ass.
Suguru focused on pleasuring your clit, he sweetly sucked on your sensitive bundle of nerves, which made you writhe around in delight. Small cute gasps escaped your lips while he snacked on you. You felt one of his long fingers gently prod your damp opening. Geto felt his dick rage upwards upon feeling your wet readiness.
“Can I finger you?” Suguru asked you sweetly. You looked down to see his handsome face at your core. The way his dark narrowed eyes locked with yours, and how his long hair messily fell in front of his face. Made you feel incredibly needy between your legs. It’s as if he had some sort of enchantment over you.
“Yes, but be gentle.” You blushed shyly while enjoying the way Gojo was massaging your plump ass cheeks. Satoru gave you a devilish sneer while he snaked the hand that was on your ass to your upper back. He expertly undid your bra with one hand, and your tits bounced free. Both Gojo and Geto eyed your breasts as if they were the most wondrous things they’d ever laid their eyes on.
Suguru then rested his mouth back onto your clit as he gingerly inserted the tip of his index finger inside of you. He went in ever so slowly until he was knuckles deep. Despite trying to relax, you couldn’t help but tense up at the stretch inside of you.
“It’s ok baby…” Suguru mumbled onto your clit, the vibrations from his voice felt scrumptious on your cunt. “Just relax. It’ll feel better soon.” He cooed as he gradually slid his finger out of you and it felt you could breathe again. But the time of having his finger out of you was short-lived when he stuck it back in lazily. This time the pain wasn’t as prominent, it helped that Geto was softly sucking your clit in the process.
Suguru knew that he’d have to prepare you thoroughly until the time came for you to take his and Satoru’s dick. The way your walls clenched around his finger, made his cock leak more precum down his shaft. He made sure to be extra careful with your virgin pussy when he started to pump his index finger into you at a quicker pace. As his plunging finger increased in speed you couldn’t help but feel excited. The ache of pain was still there, but you were able to move past that point. Now the natural sensation of pleasure was becoming more prominent.
“How does it feel?” Geto asked while giving your pussy sloppy kisses.
“It feels better.” You sighed, now being able to relax onto his mouth and hand a bit more easily.
“Good. Satoru, care to join me?” Suguru asked while taking his mouth off of your core, his lips were shiny from the mixture of your arousal and his saliva. Gojo perked his head up from off your thighs, you glanced down to see the masterpiece of hickeys he left on your thigh.
Satoru brought his right hand up to your face, “Suck ‘em.” He ordered and you obediently obliged. His pointer and index fingers invaded your mouth. You greeted his digits with your tongue as you sucked them off graciously. He playfully lodged his fingers down your throat, and to your surprise, you took them without a problem. Earning a pleased smile from the white-haired man. Once his fingers were well coated with your saliva, he removed them from your mouth. He placed his index finger at your entrance, right next to Geto’s.
“Ready?” Suguru asked you with a genuine smile.
You nodded anxiously, and with that, both men simultaneously inserted their pointer fingers inside of you. The stretch was more noticeable than Suguru’s single finger, which caused slight unpleasantness. However, the pain vanished once you started to focus on the erotic feeling have having both men finger you. You leaned back in the air to get more comfortable. You felt yourself saturate onto their pumping fingers, the extra lubricant helped them set into a faster rhythm. Small sighs of satisfaction escaped from your mouth once they sped up.
“Shit, she’s so wet.” Groaned Satoru as he shoved his finger into you extra deep, earning a sultry whine to come from you.
“Mmm, you like it when it goes deep?” Gojo muttered while deliberately pumping his finger into you while Geto pulled his finger out. This new sensation of their fingers repeatedly plowing into you, made you clench around them needily.
Geto’s finger in. Gojo’s finger out. Gojo’s finger in. Geto’s finger out. This rhythmic pattern collided into your core forcefully. You felt entirely euphoric at the overwhelming pleasure.
You felt Suguru’s free hand reach up to lightly caress your breasts. His fingers focused on your erect nipples as he teased and played with them. Satoru brought up his other hand to stroke your clit. He rubbed it around in little circles, causing you to become an overstimulated mewling mess. Having both men worship you felt incredibly sensual. Even though experiencing pleasure with more than one person is considered taboo, this entire situation felt entirely perfect.
“I need to taste her,” Gojo grunted as he removed his hands from your privates. Suguru leaned over to kiss your thigh, giving his friend a chance to eat you. Gojo didn’t pass up on the opportunity and dove right into you. He hungrily snacked on your dripping cunt, you felt his tongue slither along your lips. You tasted heavenly to him, he slurped up your wet arousal. He had a wicked tongue and plunged it into you at an incredibly fast speed. He flicked his tongue up inside of you, which caused more sparks of electricity to run through your veins. “Oh! Satoru!” You whimpered out. What had he just done?
You felt him smile cockily against your privates, “you like that?” He mumbled while keeping his blue glowing eyes locked with yours.
“Mhh-hmm.” You affirmed nodding your head. He zapped his tongue over that spot inside of you briefly, but then he teasingly pulled away. Earning an annoyed glare from you. “Keep going.” You whined, giving him your best pleading look.
“Oh?” Gojo hummed, as he gave your slippery cunt a ravishing kiss. “I think I want to hear you moan my name a couple more times before I do.”
“You’re arrogant Satoru.” Geto chided while leaving loving hickeys on your left thigh, mirroring Gojo’s.
“Shut the fuck up, and don’t be jealous when Y/n cums on my face instead of yours.” Satoru snarked as he plunged his tongue back into your pussy. He scooped his tongue inside of you, loving the way you’d squirm under his mouth.
“Mmh-Satoru…” You moaned when you felt him reach that delectable spot inside of you. He used a bit more force, which roused more pleasure within your core. “Gojo, please-“ he pounded his tongue against your G-spot relentlessly. You instinctively tried to close your thighs together, but both men between your legs prevented that. You had no idea that having Gojo eat you would feel so… incredible. Like a flash of lightning, you felt yourself release onto Satoru’s greedy tongue. He drank you enthusiastically while stroking his lengthy rod.
Suguru forcefully moved Satoru away from your core so he could steal a taste of your delicious nectar. His hot and skilled tongue easily slipped into your cunt. He slurped what was left of you and then he grabbed your waist and pulled you down into his lap.
“I can’t take it anymore, I need to be in her now.” Growled Suguru, as he positioned your petite body down to his raging dick.
Your body rejected his actions and hovered over to Satoru’s lap, “Who decided that you’d take her virginity? I want to.” Gojo retorted with an arched brow, as his iridescent eyes glowed blue. He possessively wrapped his arms around you.
Geto directed his attention towards you and gave you a heated kiss. “You want me to do it? Or him?” You could taste yourself on his lips.
Due to how buzzed and turned on you were, it honestly didn’t matter who did the deed at this point. “Someone just fuck me now. Flip a damn coin if you guys want.” Your soft voice spoke out in the steamy hotboxed room.
“Good idea.” Satoru purred, as he dug in his pocket to pull out a shiny silver coin. “If it’s heads I get to take her virginity, but you get to finish in her. If it’s tails you take her virginity and I get to cum in her.” Gojo exclaimed, then handing the coin over to you. “Care to do the honors babe?” He gently nibbled on the crook of your neck, earning delightful shivers to crawl up your spine.
You took the coin from Satoru’s large palm and flicked it with your thumb. It shot into the air vertically and you caught it with your right hand. You opened your palm to reveal, heads.
Satoru gave your waist a celebratory squeeze, “That’s what I thought.”
“Don’t get carried away Satoru,” Geto advised, rolling his eyes with a wry smile. He decided to prepare himself another blunt since he wouldn’t be enjoying you at the moment.
Gojo knew exactly what position he wanted you to be in when you took his dick for the first time. He shimmied his pants and boxers off, while simultaneously taking his shirt off. You felt his skilled hands then pull your wet underwear off and down your legs. He turned you around in his lap so you straddled him, like the way he had you before. You couldn’t help but admire his lean and toned body. You felt him rub the head of his cock against your slick entrance. However, instead of shoving it in like you were anticipating, he crashed his lips against yours feverishly. You kissed him back eagerly and held onto his broad shoulders for balance. His tongue tangled with yours passionately, all while you felt him slowly inch the head of his dick inside of you. This time it wasn’t as painful, probably because you got fingered thoroughly.
Excitement overcame your senses while the two of you made out, your needy little pussy wanted to feel more of Gojo’s long rod. Therefore, you lowered yourself a bit further down onto his sprung dick. Satoru gasped with surprise when you took the initiative, he was exceptionally pleased, to say the least. You felt his infamous smile against your lips as his left hand gripped your plump ass firmly. He was about two inches inside of you. Now you were able to feel the slight sting of being stretched. You pushed the feeling aside and felt confident enough to take more. Your breath hitched, and it felt like the room was getting hotter. You glanced over at Geto who eyed you seductively with the blunt between his lips. He was watching you two with a lustful expression as he lazily jacked himself.
“Anxious aren’t we?” Gojo hummed, enjoying the snug squeeze that surrounded the upper part of his cock. With his other hand, he gripped your waist a bit more securely and forcefully brought the rest of his length inside of you. Pain struck you like a slap to the face, he was much too big for you. You tried to cry out in discomfort but no sound came out. As a reaction to the strain, you dug your nails into his shoulders. Knowing you’ll leave little crescent marks behind.
“She’s so fucking tight.” Satoru hissed out in pleasure, fully relishing in your comforting tightness. His lips collided with yours, he made sure to not move in you just yet. He brought his face over to your ear and whispered, “How are you holding up? Does it hurt?” He said almost tauntingly, his shimmering blue eyes looked at you friskily.
“You’re too big.” You mewled pathetically; as soon as those words left your mouth you felt his dick twitch up inside you. Earning a small whimper to come from your throat.
“Oh, dear. Regretting the consequences of your actions? Want me to stop?” He cooed with fake sympathy while giving your neck some love bites.
Your cheeks blushed, “N-no…” You murmured, “I want to go through with this.”
“Good girl.” Satoru hummed in the crook of your neck. He then pulled away to study the desperate look on your face. “No need to be insecure, you just need a little time to… adjust.” He lifted your waist so his cock exited your body. The second his shaft was out of you, you felt so empty. He then brought you back down onto his dick swiftly, filling you up completely.
This time you let out a pain and pleasure mixed moan. Gojo repeated the action to you again, you noticed he entered your pussy much easier this time. He set into a rhythm of pulling out entirely, and then sliding back into you. Each thrust was more pleasurable than the last, you felt yourself instinctually moisten around his intruding cock.
“Mmh, you’re getting so wet for me.” Satoru groaned softly, “I bet you couldn’t get this wet for the guy you like.” Gojo sneered while bullying his rod inside of you with a bit more force. This time you both moaned out in delight.
“Why should it matter if I like another guy? I’m having sex with you aren’t I?” You retorted breathlessly with slight annoyance.
“Oh, so should I feel honored that you’re letting me dick you down? Must mean you like me or something.” Satoru grinned at you cockily with a playful glint in his eyes.
You blushed, “What, no...” You gasped and tried to look away shyly. In response, Satoru gripped your throat roughly and angled your jaw so you looked at him. When he wrapped his hand around your neck, you couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling. Your pussy subconsciously squeezed his dick inside of you.
Satoru felt that and smirked at you knowingly through his clouded gaze, “What’s his name?” Without warning, picked up the pace and began to rapidly bounce you onto his elongated dick. He watched the look on your face change into one of pure bliss as he fucked you ruthlessly. “Is it me?” His cock ramming into you persistently made it hard for you to focus. “Or Suguru?”
“N-no. I don’t want to tell you. Mmh… Satoru!” Having him fuck you so vigorously made you go dumb with pleasure.
“Tell me.” Gojo eyed you, while he shoved his length into your wet heat. Loud moans escaped your lips as his heavenly dick claimed your pussy.
“Mmh! So good….” Was all you could muster up, while he pounded you with ease.
“Tell me,” Satoru repeated himself with a hint of strain in his voice. The grip he had on your throat tightened as he bounced you on his shaft with impressive speed.
“Yes! Keep… going.” You whined out wantonly, you could feel your walls clench around his rod with appreciation.
“Only if you tell me,” Gojo grunted, his pumping dick became erratic as he chased after his sick pleasure. The thought of fucking you in front of his friend boosted his ego tenfold. He was in love with your sexy moans. Especially the way your slick and tight pussy felt, you took his dick so perfectly. He didn’t care if he made it obvious that he had deeper feelings for you. He knew if he fucked you good enough, you’d have no choice but fall for him. He’ll make you forget that other guy you liked.
The incredible ecstasy Satoru made you feel caused uncontrollable tears of desire to spill from your eyes. Never in your life have you felt such amazing euphoria. You could feel your release boiling to the surface.
“You cryin’?” Satoru mocked, while he relentlessly hammered his elongated dick up inside of you. “So it must be me then, huh?” He grunted with a smug look on his face. His white hair fell messily in his reddened eyes. Knowing that he had you crying because of his cock made pride well up in his chest.
All you could do in response was shake your head ‘no’. You didn’t want Satoru to know the truth, especially if he got it out of you in such a lewd manner. When you planned on confronting your feelings, you didn’t expect the truth to come out through a brutal fucking.
“Perhaps let me have a try? I think I can get the truth out of her.” Suguru spoke out, reminding you that he was still watching the both of you.
“Go ahead. I’m about to cum anyways.” Gojo traded you for the blunt that was in Geto’s fingers. He floated you off of his glorious dick without hesitation and directed your body over to Geto. You immediately missed the way Satoru was fucking you, but you were also looking forward to having Suguru inside of you.
Suguru reached up to embrace you on his lap sweetly. You noticed that he was still fully clothed. You hastily tugged at the hem of his shirt. He got the idea and popped his top off with a dashing smirk. You couldn’t help but blatantly admire his muscular physique.
Speaking your thoughts a quiet “fuck me.” Came from under your breath.
Geto was also cherishing your small naked body hovering over his, “You’re so impatient.” He eyed you while the corner of his mouth tilted upward. “If that’s what you want-” Suguru then lunged forward with you scooped up in his arms. He swiftly laid you down on the couch and situated himself between your thighs. “Then that’s what you’ll get.” Without warning he shoved his long and eager cock inside of your hot cunt.
The overwhelming feeling of being filled up made you arch your back in delight. “Oh! Yes!” You cried out in satisfaction.
Suguru groaned softly in your ear, you felt so slick and inviting for him. “You feel amazing.” He then gave the shell of your ear a tantalizing kiss.
Due to how saturated and horny you were, Geto didn’t have to hold back or wait for you to get used to his dick. He gently guided your legs over his shoulders and plowed into you furiously. His toned hips slapped against your smooth thighs, causing clapping sounds to fill the room. You two fit so well together, it’s as if your body was made for his.
“Shit, Satoru got you so fucking wet.” He hissed under his breath. Suguru never looked so handsome; the way his sultry narrowed eyes looked down at you with approval made you wetter if that was even possible. His long hair fell in front of his face to form a cascading curtain that shielded you from Satoru’s hungry gaze. Suguru surrounded you, his entire being dominated your senses, and you felt high off his glorious presence.
“It’s me isn’t it?” Geto muttered while bringing his hand down to your clit. He rubbed fast circles over your sensitive bud, making you writhe underneath him in delight.
“Oh! Suguru!” You whimpered out, the combination of his pumping rod inside of you and his teasing fingers made your pussy squelch him deliciously. Geto couldn’t help but let out a small groan of pleasure in return.
“I’m the guy you like, aren’t I?” He murmured while increasing his speed. You weren’t able to look away or avoid his gaze, so you closed your eyes and focused on his perfect dick. “Look at me,” Geto commanded as he slowed his thrusts down into sloppy ones. "Tell me you're mine."
With his speed dying down, it brought you back to reality. “I'm yours! Now, fuck me Suguru!” You whined, desperately moving your hips against his, yearning for more friction.
“I am.” He winked down at you with a devilish grin. He set into a steady rhythm of shoving his lengthy cock inside of you nice and deep. Even though his thrusts were prolonged, he still had so much power behind each one. Your whole body shook every time he came back into you.
You were able to hear the gushy slick sound of his dick entering and exiting from your cunt. If someone were to walk by the dorm’s door, they would know what exactly was going on. Those lewd noises filled the room along with the smoke from Satoru’s blunt.
“Satoru, her mouth looks like empty. Better come fill it.” Geto stated in a matter-of-fact tone, as he leaned back onto his knees. You immediately missed the closeness of having Suguru on top of you. But having Suguru pump into you at this angle was quite enjoyable. He kept your legs resting on his shoulders as he pounded into you vigorously.
Satoru got to his knees next to your head and brought his girth to your lips. “Open up dear,” Gojo asked almost sweetly, he gently placed his hands on your head and guided the head of his cock to your mouth. You opened for him and sucked his tip, you felt him push more of his length into your mouth. Soon enough he was down your throat while you choked on him. You did your best to calm your breath, but it seemed difficult. Especially when Suguru would ram into you forcefully, causing your whole body to move. Each thrust from Getou would make Gojo’s dick jostle in your throat roughly. It felt too suffocating, yet so arousing at the same time.
Gojo was much too big for you, and it didn’t help when you would feel his tip twitch down your throat with delight. “Keep it there. Just like that.” He groaned softly while eyeing you with ratification.
Geto’s thrusts began to get more erotic. He pumped his hips against the back of your thighs, causing loud slaps to echo through the room. His lengthy cock rammed into you persistently, you soon realized that you liked getting fucked rough. It felt extremely heavenly each time he slid back into you. You became breathless as he plowed into you rabidly.
You looked so ravishing in Suguru’s eyes, you took his dick excellently, all while deep-throating Gojo. He knew that you were on the verge of release, and wanted to make sure you came together. Yet, another side of him wanted to make things a little more interesting.
“If you cum within ten thrusts you gotta tell us who you like.“ Suguru instructed while admiring the way your breasts would bounce each time he plowed into you.
“Anh-m. I dnh-“ you tried to say through Gojo’s meaty dick. Satoru pulled his cock out of your comfortable throat, so the tip of his penis rested against your lips. His rod was slick with your saliva. “And if I don’t?” You flashed Geto a playful smile.
“Daring aren’t you? Trust me, you will.” Suguru chuckled, “But if you happen not to, then we can drop the question. And you can pick our punishment. Deal?”
“D-“ Satoru cut you off while he impatiently shoved his dick back in your throat. He loved the way he could see the outline of his penis in your neck.
“Sorry hun, but if you don’t swallow all my cum, then you’ll owe me another round at my place.” Satoru winked down at you flirtatiously.
“Mmh-hmm.” You hummed with agreement. Gojo then leaned forward to grab a hold of one of your nipples to tease.
“Okay let’s start the countdown.” Suguru stated with a hazed look in his eyes, “Ten…” He slammed his cock into your dripping cunt deliciously, causing you to moan onto Gojo’s dick shamelessly.
“Nine…” Suguru’s long fingers swiveled over your clit briskly, while he kissed your right ankle that was resting on his broad shoulder.
“Eight…” Geto’s thrusts were quick and decisive, making your pussy squelch him with an intense neediness.
“Seven…” He grunted out, Suguru was on the verge of release but he knew he could wait it out until you came first.
“Six…” Satoru’s left hand gripped your hair tightly, while his other hand was big enough to fondle both of your nipples at once; sending waves of delight to your core.
“Five…” Gojo fucked your throat with a sense of urgency now, he was getting close and couldn’t wait to feed you.
“Four…” Geto’s dick hit your G-spot with intense precision and your walls fluttered around him with ecstasy.
“Three…” So close, you were so close you were able to see stars. The stimulation from Suguru’s plunging dick and Gojo’s teasing fingers, made mewls of pleasure come from your throat and around Satoru’s girth.
“Two…” You couldn’t take it anymore, the way Suguru pounded against your sensitive spot relentlessly sent you over the edge and you drenched his cock in your release. You held nothing back and unleashed the waterfall that you held within you.
“One…” Geto groaned out, as he filled you to the brim with his seed. You were able to feel him shoot his massive load up against your cervix, knowing that it would reach your womb in no time.
“Shit… get ready to drink it all babe,” Satoru growled out while plunging his shaft down your throat one last time. His thrusting hips came to a stop as a copious amount of his juice filled your mouth. You felt his hot liquid squirt down your throat sporadically. You did your best to swallow it all, but his seed filled your mouth faster than you could drink. Small strands of his milky white cum slid out from the corners of your lips and down your chin quickly.
“Aww too bad, you were so close,” Geto uttered breathlessly, as he slowly pulled his length from your drenched cunt. He couldn’t help but watch in pride as his cum mixed with your release flooded out of your pussy like a burst dam. You felt it run down your bubbly ass cheeks and onto the couch cushions below you.
Satoru gingerly removed his softening cock from your mouth, his time well spent. “It looks like you owe me a round two back at my place.” He smirked down at you as he wiped some of his cum off of your chin with his thumb. He brought his finger to your mouth and you obediently licked it clean. His gaze was full of pride and approval. The redness in his eyes was less prominent, meaning he must be sobering up already.
“I look forward to it.” You eyed him briefly while hunching up on your elbows. Even though you lost both bets you felt as if you were on cloud nine.
“So do you still have feelings for that guy?” Suguru asked inquisitively, as he helped you sit up on the couch.
You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, “Yeah, I do.”
A flash of disappointment flickered in Satoru’s eyes, “even after that?” His voice sounded slightly insecure.
“As you said, I’ve lost interest in other men.” You glanced toward Getou’s warm gaze, then you shifted your sight over to Satoru, whose blue eyes glinted towards yours.
“So you like Suguru and I?” Gojo eyed you curiously.
You nodded hesitantly, “Yeah, the ‘guy’ I like is you two.” You nervously glanced between them both. “You’re not planning on using me, right?” You asked trying to hide the wavering in your voice.
“Of course not,” Satoru was quick to answer, “the truth is, shortly after getting to know you I admitted to Suguru that I wanted to be more than just friends with you. And he thought the same.”
Your heartbeat increased, “really?” Your mousy voice was barely audible.
“So I proposed an ultimatum,” Suguru replied, “because we both had deeper intentions with you… I felt like it would be fair if you decided which one of us you wanted to pursue. And we weren’t allowed to straight up ask you out or make a move on you, unless you did first.”
You let out a small laugh, “wow you two might’ve had to wait forever because of how timid I can be.”
Suguru chuckled and gripped your thigh softly, “Yeah, good thing we got you high enough to ask us how to kiss.”
“That’s right! All of this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t ask.” Satoru smirked while draping his arm over your shoulders comfortably.
You gave both men your gorgeous smile, “So as long as I can say I belong to you both, do what you want with me.”
Surugu leaned down to press his lips against yours, “You should’ve asked us how to kiss sooner.”
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