#just... if I were him... I would be p stressed

[gojo-mochi]

OMG- ur frat boy au 😩

But I def head cannon that law even though he is more reclusive than the other frat boys he does occasionally participate in group tutoring and has you sit next to him and when you start to tease him during the tutoring he would start to tease you back but actually like finger fuck you or play with your clit as a punishment for making him distracted while he's supposed to be getting his service hours in.

I also hc that for Ace ( my love 😍) would absolutely 100 fucking percent would tutor you or your tutoring him in the library in the middle of the night when no one is around and is having you read out loud for him and he's absolutely going ham in your pussy with his fingers and he makes you squirt on the textbooks making them get all wet and dirty with your juices so he makes you go up to the librarian and report that you accidentally got a book wet.

Jdbfwhebwhh- I fucking love ur frat boy au tho like 😩 I would actually do anything for men who are frat boys like-

Sorry for the late response! I wanted to write something for this and things kept piling up BUT i'm here now and thank you so much for liking my frat boys! Heeh ٭(•﹏•)٭

Law is so mean!! So, so mean god… But he likes it (secretly) when you tease him by wearing those short miniskirts, and wearing no panties during your tutoring session!?! You were def asking for him so don’t cry to him when he’s keeping you on edge the whole time and you better answer his question correctly to show that he’s a good tutor or else…..(ﾉ´ з `)ノ

THAT SO DIRTY ACEEE RAHHHHH, god.. He such like a fuckboy (in my story at least) JUST THAT puppydog sweet boy look with a fuckboy personality just hit so gooooooddd ughhhhh thank you for giving me these prompts! Hope you enjoy the fic! (◕ㅅ◕✿)

CW: Toxic! Law and Ace (My version of them as fratboys! Not canon-adjecent! I love these sweet boys), mention of cheating, manipulation, P/V, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, squirting, voyeurism.

Word Count: 7k

A/N:THank you so much to @kazieai for being my beta reader!!!  ( ˘ ³˘)♥ Little surprise at the end of Ace eheh <3

Tutoring Session with Law: 

Group study session means less time he has to waste actually tutoring since he can just cross off a lot of extra hours by helping everyone at once. He would never admit it out right to you or anyone for that matter, but you were his favorite student by far. Not necessarily because you were a good student or anything like that. It was because in every session he had with you, you always wore the shortest skirt paired with something low-cut so when you lean over the table to ask a stupid question, his eyes would get a nice view of your chest. By the third session you had with him, you forego wearing a bra and just let your nipples get all perky from the nice cool library’s air conditioning. 

He really punished you the first time you did that, pulling and tweaking at your little nubs until you were crying from oversensitivity. Only to soothe away your cries with his skillful tongue and fingers digging deep in your pussy. You loved it though, teasing Law to the point where he lets go of his restraints and just bends you over the table and starts punishing you. It’s a good stress reliever for both you and him, of course.

Law almost denied your request to join him and other students in group studying, knowing that you’ll try to pull some kind of dirty trick while he’s trying to finish his service hours. Though once you gave him your sweetest puppy dog eyes, he caved in pretty quickly. And to his surprise, you showed up wearing something that actually covers your skin and wasn’t just some torn cloth marketed as “clothes”. A simple turtleneck sweater with a matching skirt and silk stockings to top it off. 

Law eyes you warily when you plop down on the seat next to him, but says nothing to you and focuses on the other students instead. You pouted at him and pretended to write down some notes or read the textbook you were assigned. Absent-mindedly flipping thru the pages, barely paying any attention to the words. You hear Law sigh a lot during the session, pencil tapping against the wooden table when he sees one of the other students typing away at his phone under the table. 

His other student doodling in his notebook, not paying attention to anything Law was trying to teach them. It was you, Law, and two other male students all huddled together in a corner of the library. While he could just pretend to teach them and get this session over with, he wasn’t sure if his hours for this would count if half of his students were gonna fail or get worse grades after his tutoring. At the very least, he knew you would retain some of his teachings, you knew you would be punished if you didn’t after all. 

And it wasn’t the fun kind of punishment either, the one where you were left wobbling with red cheeks afterwards. No, if you end up failing a quiz or your grades drop even a little, Law would either ignore your attempts to reach out to him or worse. He would openly flirt with someone in front of you, most likely one of the girls from the sororities his fraternity would often host parties with. He would prance around with one of those girls strapped to his arm, nodding and using his fake smile on them. Knowing how much your blood boils when those girls start pressing their boobs on his bicep, that was your job, goddamn it!

You took your anger out on your studying, furiously writing down notes, huffing and puffing through your textbook, and staring holes in your teacher's skull during lecture. All so you could get one of the top grades during the test next week and so you could flip off the sororitie’s girls when Law publicly praised you and you pulled him in for a steamy kiss. No one was really sure if the two of you were actually dating or fucking around. Whatever kind of sick game the two of you were tangled in, the other frat members knew not to fuck around with you. Law has special access to the chemical lab at the university and he made vague threats about poisoning his brothers if they tried anything with you. 

You rolled your eyes when you found out about it, but secretly it made your heart skip a beat, seeing how possessive he would get over you. You could see now by the way his brows were furrowed in that Law was getting more than annoyed. You decided to fuck with him even further, by inching your leg over to his side. Slipping out of your shoes and going over to Law’s side and nudging his ankle softly. Law glanced at you from his side vision but you pretended to be writing down something in your notebook instead, not paying him any mind. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath, deciding to focus on the other students first. Law grabbed one of the heaviest books on the table and slammed it down hard on the wooden table. The thump made everyone else jump a little, all eyes were on Law now who just glared back unamused. 

“Now that I got everyone’s attention, I’ll be honest and say that I don’t give a fuck about any of you.” He takes a quick glance your way as he said that but focuses back on the boys. One of them tried to open their mouth to speak back but Law cut him off. “That being said, we all are here for a reason, and my reason is that I’m forced to get service hours or my lab privileges are revoked.”

He grabbed a pen in his hand and point it at the male students, “And trust me, if my lab privileges on campus get revoked, I will find a way to set up a new one, and I think the first test subjects I’ll use, are the dumb-fuck students who fucked me over.” He said in a casual tone, twirling his pen around his fingers, the students gulped nervously just now noticing the tattoos on his hands. You suppressed giggling at this tense moment, feeling your heart flutter whenever Law gets like this. 

You quietly scoot closer to him, rubbing your foot up higher on his calves and resting a hand on his thigh. Law continued on like nothing was happening, “So, I suggest for the sake of all our sanities, that you two actually get to studying.” He leans back in his chair and spreads his legs apart wide, knocking your leg back a bit. You pout at this but it didn’t deter you, moving your hand further down and squeezing his bulge a little bit. Already hard and poking through his jeans, you bit your lips at the realization. 

Scooting your chair even closer until it was right next to Law’s chair, the other two boys were too scared to pay attention to you or your antics. Law’s lip twitched but he pressed on forward, instructing the boys to open their own textbook and start listening to his lecture. While you do love his voice, hearing him drone on about molecules and compounds didn’t really help make you wetter. 

You decide to get bolder and unzip Law’s jeans very slowly. Your head turns to face him as you do, pretending that you’re really listening to his lecture but in reality you just want to see if he could maintain a straight face while you slip your hands inside his pants. His eyes were pointed at the two other students, glaring harshly making sure that they were taking down the right notes. With his legs spread wide, you had easy access to fiddle around with his bulge. 

“Wrong, redraw the structure of that compound again, you missed an oxygen in there.” Law drones out, flicking some eraser shavings over to the student’s paper. All the while your hands dips down lower and lower, cupping his balls in your warm hands and playing around with them in the way you know he loves. Law grunts softly in response but does not take your hand away, you bump shoulders with him and pout. 

“Law, can you look at my notes too? I’m not sure I did it right…” You whined, squeezing his balls a little harder to make sure he turns his attention to you. This time Law grabs your wrist firmly and yanks your hands out of his pants. His eyes turned to you, and you flinched back a bit at the heavy glare. 

Perhaps you went a bit too far this time with your antics, he turns his body towards you and looks over your notes, all the while his hand still holds on to your wrist. He points over some areas you should’ve written down more information and silently moves his hands off your wrist and down onto your thigh. You looked down at his hand but he snapped his other hand in front of your face; “Oy, pay attention, ya?” 

You flinch back a bit as his hand inches further down your thigh, his long fingers tracing around the edge of your skirt. His golden eyes piercing down your soul right to your pussy as he makes you rewrite some notes down before turning his attention back on the other students. You fidget under his cold hand, causing him to pinch your skin lightly. A silent order to keep you still and the others unassuming. 

The grip you had on your pen was shaking a little by now, his hand getting bolder with each passing second and he wasn’t even looking at you when his fingers finally reached out and poked at your panties. Well, he would have poked at your panties, if you were actually wearing any today…

You fought back a yelp as his finger pushed past your walls a bit, his nails scraping against your softness. Meanwhile, Law had to maintain a straight face once he realized that you weren’t wearing anything down there today. Oh, now you were in for it…

Law wasted no more time as his skillful fingers plunged right back in, pointer and middle finger sliding down your slick walls, as his thumb gets placed right on top of your clit. Gently rubbing it in small circular motions. With just enough pressure for you to feel it but not enough for you to fully enjoy it. You tried to buck up your hips to get more friction but Law just pinch your clit in response, making you hiccup out loud, having everyone's attention on you. 

You shy away from their gazes, your face heating up especially from Law’s eyes on you. You cough awkwardly and point to your water bottle; “Heh, just a dry throat.. I’m alright.” Your shaky hands grabbed the bottle and you chugged down the rest of the liquid inside as the other students went back to their notes and Law’s fingers went back inside your cunt. 

Only his middle finger this time, Law slowly sinks his long digit in and out of your pussy, covering his finger in your sweet slick. All the while, he maintained a bored expression on his face and actually started tutoring the other students. They were whipped into gear now, asking questions and asking for help on parts they weren’t sure on. This session might turn out great at this rate, but you couldn’t really give a shit. 

You wanted Law to give you more attention, more friction, you wanted his cock inside of you now. Or at least more of his fingers, he was hitting the right spot but it wasn’t enough for you, barely enough for you to feel that spark of pleasure each time he curled his finger in. You bit in the inside your cheek as you dared to bring one hand down under your skirt and start playing with your clit yourself. Of course, Law did see you doing this, but he did nothing to punish you for it at the moment. Instead, he actually plunged in another finger inside your tight walls, scissoring them outward as your own fingers start to play with your clit. 

You knew that a punishment was gonna come sooner or later, but the pleasure felt so good to care at this point. Your own fingers started to speed up along with Law, and just when you were finally reaching that point of pure ecstasy, he pulled his fingers out, causing a needy whine to slip past your lips.

Everyone’s head snapped towards you, Law calls out to you with a faint smirk painted across his face, “Oy? Everything alright there?” He leans into your space, smearing his slick-covered on your forehead as he pretends to check for a fever. Your face heats up even more at the contact, wanting to slap his hand away but not wanting to cause any more suspicion. You meekly nod your head while glaring sideways at Law, he pulls his hand away with a sigh and motions for everyone to start working again. 

“Alright, the library closes in 30 minutes so everyone listen up. I’m gonna go over the most important parts you need to know for the upcoming exam.” Law snaps his fingers and holds out his notebook for everyone to see. “Let’s make the most of our time now, so we never have to see each other again, yeah?”

His eyes gaze over everyone, gauging their reaction and seeing if they were actually paying attention to him. You were still glaring at him but at least your eyes were on him as well. He nods and leans back in his chair, holding up his notebook in one hand as he casually flips it easily by maneuvering his fingers around the pages.

His other hand went right back to its rightful spot, in between your legs, not that you were complaining. You may grumble or whine about it later to him in private but as of now, the need to be fucked overrides all your other senses. With a few taps on your thighs, you readily spread your legs apart for him. 

“...the most important thing is to remember the oxygen count…” Law rambled on and on, his voice drowning out the small wet plapping noises he was making underneath the table. He made sure to keep eye contact with you on occasion as well, not letting your eyes close or wander away from his lecture. 

Your own hands balled up into tight fists on your lap as you desperately try to keep calm and still while Law finger-fucked you under the table. His thumb sporadically swipes at your swollen clit, just to keep you tethering on that sweet euphoric edge. 

“..you can skip remembering all the structures if you’re better at remembering the formula for them, just bullshit it enough and the professor will go easy on you…” 

You dug your nails into the palm of your hands, your thighs shaking around Law’s hand as he added another finger inside. His thumb picked up the pace and you slowly felt your self-control slipping away. 

“Well, that’s about covers most of it, does anyone have any questions?” Law draws out, looking around the table and stopping at you. His eyes glinting at your nervous face and carefully watching for your reaction. “Y/N? You seem like you have a question you want to ask, no need to be all shy now~” He teased a little at the end, and now everyone’s eyes were on you. Your mouth flounders around a bit, as you try to find your voice. 

“I-um don’t really hav-ahhiee!” 

Law being the prick that he is, made sure to pinch on your clit right in the middle of your sentence. Making you scream out loud, your scream echoing in the quiet library air. Your whole face burns with embarrassment as you hear Law quietly snicker to himself at your side. The other two students look at you with a mixture of confusion and redness on their faces. 

Before you could try to explain yourself, the librarian pops out of nowhere with an angry tick marked on her face. She points to her watch and clears her throat loudly in annoyance; “While it is nice to see students finally studying for once in here, I must warn you that the library closed around 10 mins ago. So please kindly pack your stuff and head out.”

She clicks her heels together and gives the group one last glare before huffing and leaving. 

“Uh.. thanks for the session, dude. I’ll just head out now.”

“Yeah… me too.”

The two male students quickly gathered up their stuff, ready to bounce from the tutoring session. Law waves them off after giving them one last order, “Don’t forget to sign the paper to let the school know that I tutored you, cause if you don’t, I’ll come find you..” 

They both nod in unison and scuttle off, while you smack your face in your hands. Letting out an embarrassed groan over the events that all occurred. Ready to get up and go scream about it later in the comfort of your bed. However, Law had other ideas as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. 

A hand on your cheek as he hooks his thumb inside your mouth, forcing you to look directly in his golden eyes. 

“Hold up, you’re not thinking about leaving this place while you’re still this messy… were you?” To emphasize his point, his other hand comes down under your skirt to swipe up on your wet cunt. Collecting some of your warm cream on his fingertips and stuffing them in your open mouth forcefully. Mixing your own cream with your spit on his fingers for a while, wiping the excess on your lips and cheeks as he pulls out his fingers. 

He gathers up all the items left on the table and unceremoniously dumped them into his backpack. Slapping you on the ass and leading you to the bathroom for some extra tutoring.

“Guess, I’ll have to teach you to clean up after yourself too. Be grateful, ya? I don’t just do this for anyone.”

Tutoring Session with Ace:

“Ac-Acee-hnggg We ca-can’t keep doing this.” 

You attempted to keep your voice as low as you can, while being pounded from behind that is. Ace’s large and warm hands gripping tightly on your waist, his thumbs digging into your sides, leaving marks for the future. Your incessant whining only fueled Ace to bury his cock deeper inside you, his hips slamming against your ass with each pounding. 

The chair you were gripping on for balance starts to wobble under the increasing intensity, your nails dig into the wood for any semblance of purchase. Leaving scratch marks that will surely get you in trouble if the librarian ever finds them. Ace bends down, breath tickling the back of your neck, his hot tongue licking up a stripe of sweat beading down your skin.

You bite back a moan, eyes darting around to see if anyone was passing by to catch you in this sinful act. Though with the pleasure building up inside of you at a rapid pace, you find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. And just as you were about to cum, Ace bit down on your shoulder, hard.

The stinging pain went straight down to your core as you cum almost violently, your pussy clenching down on Ace’s cock which was still buried deep inside your womb. He insisted on not wearing a condom since, “It doesn’t feel good, and none of the sizes fit him anyway.” 

So, all of his cum spilled inside, filling you up to the brim as your legs shake underneath. Your head falls down on the seat’s cushion, while the rest of your body is being held up by Ace. He licks at the wound on your shoulder, lapping up some blood droplets that were seeping out. You groan when his licks start to get more and more sloppy, much akin to that of a dog. Specks of spit start hitting your cheek as he starts to shake his head side to side with his tongue still hanging out. 

You hiss at him and turn your head to look over your shoulder as you try to push him away. He laughs at you with a wide smile, leaning back and pulling his cock out and watching his seed begin to spill out as he does so. He grabs you by the waist and tugs you back into his chest. Spinning around so that he could sit on the chair with you snug on his lap. He spreads your legs open with his own, turning his head around as he searches for something on the ground. 

“Ah! There you are!” 

He smiles as he bends down to pick an article of clothing off the floor. He shows off your own cute pair of panties right front of your face, leaving you dumbfounded for a second. His smile grows mischievous like a cat that just got into something they shouldn't have. 

Ace hums to himself as he spreads your legs wider and reaches down with one hand and parts open your pussy with two fingers. Some of the cum starts to spill out, coating his fingers in the process but Ace happily purrs at the sight, bringing the panties down as well to wipe up his mess. 

“Ace!”

You whispered-yelled in both embarrassment and a bit of anger, you wiggle on his lap, hands pushing on his biceps to try to get away from him. Your efforts were useless as Ace just continued on cleaning up his cum dripping out of your sensitive cunt without a care in the world. Even humming a little as he does so; 

“...and the girls say, Save a horse, ride a cowboy..”

You sort of regret showing him that song, he loves to sing it especially when you’re riding on top of him. With a few more swipes up and down your pussy and a few bites from you on his biceps, the task was finally done. Your now cum-soaked panties were once again brought right up to your face as Ace showed off his work. 

“Ace, what the fu-mmph!”

Just as you were about to start to scold Ace, he unceremoniously shoves your ruined panties into your open mouth, gagging you in the process. Your slick and Ace’s cream started coating your tongue, letting you fully taste the sinful mixture of your actions. You had enough and ripped your panties out of your mouth and smacked it on Ace’s face, which he didn’t really seem to mind. 

“Ow, ow, Ok, I’m so-OW!”

Ace yelped and jumped up in pain, pushing you down to the ground in the process. Holding his crotch with both hands as he looked at you with teary puppy eyes. 

“Sweetheart! How could you hurt me in my most precious area like that?”

He rubs his crotch a little and looks down at it with a heavy sadness in his eyes, while you roll yours in return.You go over to slap him hard on the back as you begin looking for other pieces of your clothing scattered across the floor. Not your first time being fully naked in the back of the library but you were already caught once and you weren’t looking forward to being caught a second time.

Thankfully, it was just another member from his fraternity who caught you two. A sort of mean-looking guy, you think his name was “Lawrence”? or something close to that. He’s a fellow tutor but you really haven’t crossed paths with him often, he usually keeps to himself. You remember at that time you had your back against the wall while Ace held you up, fucking you against the wall. 

So you were the first one to notice “Lawrence” come around the corner, the only look of surprise on his face was his eyes widening a little before he gave you a little smirk. Leaning on the bookshelf, with a smug little smile on his face as Ace kept pounding inside of you. You tried to tell Ace that someone was here but your moans kept cutting you off and Ace was too pussydrunk to care at that point. 

You hid your face in Ace’s shoulder, embarrassed to be found in such a position. You peek over at your fellow tutor, finding “Lawrence” rolling his eyes at your shyness and getting off the bookshelf and taking a book out. He waves goodbye to you, and leaves soon after. You told Ace what happened afterwards, but he just said, “Oh yeah, us frat boys do that all the time. We like to share sometimes, ya know?”

You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know more. You shook your head free of these memories, patting your skirt down and making sure that your shirt was buttoned correctly. Now that you were fully dressed, just without your panties, you were ready to continue on with this “tutoring session”. You hear the sound of shuffling behind you and then a heavy weight on your shoulder as Ace sets his head down and begins to whine in your ear.

His arms snaking around your waist and pulling you back into his naked chest, at least he put his shorts back on this time.

“Come on, puppy-boy, time for us to actually study.”

Ace whines ever harder at your statement, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “But,  Baby girl!” You shake your head and start to move with him still wrapped around you, step by step as Ace drags his feet behind you.

“Firecracker, please let’s just talk this out. We can study even more once my balls get emptied again!”

You ignored him, walking over to a bookshelf and browsing the lines of books for an easy studying one. 

“My love, my goddess, my only one, the one that holds my heart, my soul, and my cock and balls.”

Ace gets closer to your ear with each nickname, you felt your cheeks heat up at the sweeter names, until he said that last one and you showed him that you really did hold his balls in your hands. Squeezing lightly as a warning, which only causes him to moan and start grinding on you instead. 

You squeezed harder and harder until he got the hint and backed off, with that weight off your shoulder, you grabbed the book and turned to Ace. Pointing to the book with an exasperated look on your face, “Listen, I need your grades to at least go up a few percent. I am literally about to get fired from this job, if they don’t.”

Ace opens his mouth to retort with something lewd again but quickly shuts it once he sees how serious you are. He nods softly, and sits down on the ground, tilting his hat back and looking up at you with a beaming smile.

Ace held his hand up like an honor scout and looked clearly into your eyes as he said, “I promise, I’ll try to learn something this time and pass the next exam with flying colors.”

You were still doubting him a little but decided this was the best you were gonna get, so you plopped down in front of Ace. Opening the book and telling Ace to read the passage out loud and tell you what the theme and underlying tone of that passage was. Ace scoots around you and places you on his lap, which causes your eyebrows to furrow but he holds his hands up again this time in mock defense.

He starts reading the passage out slowly, his smooth voice lulling you to a sense of calm in his lap. You settled in rather quickly, leaning back on his chest, your eyes following along as he spoke. After he was done and you asked your questions, you were surprised to find his answers free of any innuendos and contained actual full-fledged thoughts. 

He always acted like a dumb frat boy or a horny puppy so this side of him was new to you. The two of you kept on reading passage after passage, with your questions getting harder with each passage to test Ace’s knowledge and to see if he was still paying attention or not. He passed every question with flying colors, remembering every small detail and characters that appeared, and your heart fluttered with each answer he gave. This new side of Ace was somehow more attractive than his fuckboy persona. But you knew that Ace wasn’t the type of guy to date for long, you heard stories of broken-hearted girls with his name tattooed across their chest. 

A new pair of voices jolted you from these thoughts, as you strained your ears to try to make out the words. 

“Why are these books so far back?”

“I think it’s because no one really borrows them, even most of the professors don’t even know what half of these books mean.”

“Geez, and some of these are ancient too, almost as ancient as Professor Rayleigh, don’t you think?”

“Heh… yeah, let’s just find the damn book and go, it's kinda creepy back here…”

The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer to you, and you start to panic a little. While you both were clothed, it was still pretty obvious that you and Ace fucked, with the dishelved hair, the dried drool on your chin, and numerous lipstick stains and bite marks that litter across each of your bodies. 

You made a move to get up quietly, only to be pulled back down with an “Oof” escaping your lips. You turned your head back to glare at Ace who made a shushing motion with his finger, with his arm securely holding you down on his lap. 

“Wh-?”

Ace holds a hand over your mouth as you attempt to question him, holding you down even tighter as you try to wiggle out of his hold. He leans in to whisper in your ear, as your feeble attempts to escape proving no match to his strength. 

“Hold on, baby girl, take a listen. I think they’re really close to us now.”

You glared at him harder but stopped your struggle and listened closely. Hearing the sound of sneakers sliding along carpet and books being picked up and flipped thru, the two newcomers were browsing the aisle right next to yours. 

“If we try to move now, they’ll definitely catch us. So, let’s stay put alright, love?”

You hate to admit it, but he was right, there was no way you both could sneak over to get your stuff and sneak past them quietly at this point. You could only hope that they find the book they’re looking for in that aisle and leave quickly. You sigh and settle back in Ace’s lap, his hand leaves your mouth and rests on your stomach. 

The two of you fall quiet, listening to the shuffling of books and small murmurs from the two other students. The heat radiating from Ace’s body was pleasant against the chilly library’s air. Making you snuggle even closer to Ace, wanting to soak up every last bit of warmth he has to offer. 

Ace chuckles and wraps his arms around you, flexing his biceps as he does so. Swaying you from side to side softly, resting his chin on your shoulder, his hair tickling your face. He turns to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, and it is with moments like these, that really make your heart flutter. Then, you start wondering what it would be like, if you and Ace made it official.

No more sneaking around, no more pretending not to be jealous when you see him with another girl at a party, no more keeping your friends up at night wondering if he really likes you or just your body. If you just bit the bullet finally and asked him what he really thought of you and this ‘relationship’. Does he hold the same feelings you do? Or is this really all just a game to him and you're just another side piece in his lineup.

While all these thoughts swirl inside your head, you didn’t notice how one of Ace’s hands started slipping lower and lower on your body, lingering on top of your thigh for a few moments. Ace carefully watched for a reaction but seeing as you were still lost in your head, he took this as a sign to keep going. Gently picking up the edge of your skirt and moving it upwards, inch by inch until more of your thighs are exposed and he could just barely see some of your pussy if he angled his head correctly.

You suddenly felt more chilly than before, snuggling backwards to find that warmth again, your mind still stuck in the clouds only to be shot awake by a finger swiping up your cunt. A hand was already on your mouth before you could scream, “What the fuck?!”

Ace shushes you, his grip tight on your face but not to the point of actually hurting you. 

“It’s just me, little flame, it’s just me…”

Ace nuzzles your cheek as an attempt to calm you down, while his finger still inside your cunt starts to wiggle around a little. You breath in roughly thru your nose, trying to express your anger at this ordeal. Ace only chuckles in return, softly calling you “Cute..” and continuing on. Swiping his thumb up and down on your still sensitive clit, making your legs jolt out a bit. You muffle out curses and squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting Ace to win this battle. But damn, he really knows how to use his fingers…

“I just want to thank you for today, my flame…”

“You seem so stressed out lately and this is my way of showing just how much I love you..”

Bullshit.. You knew what he was spewing out was just lies.. But you can’t deny how his voice affects you when it gets like this. All soft and smooth, filled with so much affection you could drown in it. A sickeningly sweet pool of lies, with you in the middle, slowly sinking down and down with each interaction you have together with him. And the worst part is, that you know you could easily just leave, get out of the pool and go find someone better… someone who might actually love you for you. 

But you don’t, you let Ace pull you in with his charms and stupid smile. You embrace the lies and pretend that in the end when it is all over and you’re alone in bed at night, that it doesn’t matter and you’re not crying. So, you pretend to struggle a bit more, pretend not to enjoy his cute little nicknames that he only reserves for you and none of his other fuck toys. 

Your hips begin to move up and down as Ace’s thumb starts rubbing small and quick circles on your clit, moving his fingers in and out in that rhythm that drives you wild. Muttering filthy praises in your ear as his movement gets faster and rougher, you moans subdued in his palm. Your legs jerking and twitching as you get close to that blinding pleasure that Ace always brings you to. 

With a final curl of his fingers he pushes you over the edge, taking his hand away from your mouth as you scream out, only to push his fingers down your throat as your body spasm and squirt all over yourself. Drool spills down your chin as you gag on Ace’s fingers, panting heavily as your body calms back down. You grabbed Ace’s wrist and pulled it away from you, so you can finally breathe normally again.

“What? You’re not gonna help me clean up?”

He brings up his slick-covered hands to your face, which you promptly slaps away and shush him for being too loud. 

Ace gets up and laughs, pulling you up with him. 

“Hey, hey, don’t worry! Those two left a while ago while you were zoning out about something in that pretty little head of yours.” 

He dusts off his pants and stretches his arm over his head, you turn to look away from him with an embarrassed blush flushing your face. You check the time on your phone and sigh, noting that it was almost library closing hours. 

“Come on, it’s time to go, the library is about to close.” You signal to Ace to get going, as you look around for anything you may have dropped. 

“We have to be fast about it, I also want you to check out the book to read later, alright?”

“Because, I really really need you to ace this test.” 

Ace snorts at that, “Hah, ace this test, good one, little flame.” He slaps you on the shoulder hard enough to make you stumble forward a little. 

“I mean it, Ace! Seriously, please just-”

“I got it, really I do! But, I might need some motivation during the late night, you know? Like a cheeky little photo to cheer me up?” 

You glare at him through your sideview, turning on your heel and stomping over to get your items, readjust your clothes, and fix your makeup if need be. You do some breathing exercises to calm yourself down, while you pack everything up in your bag and Ace’s bag, using some wet wipes you have on hand to clean yourself up as well. 

Ace comes sauntering by, soon after you were done with everything, holding the book up high in his hands proudly. You sigh and cross your arms at him, ready to get the night over with, your legs barely managing to keep you upright and walking after everything you've been through. 

You throw his bag his way, and walk forward first. Leading the way to the front of the library. Zipping up your jacket all the way up while walking so you could hide marks Ace may have left on you that you didn’t catch earlier. As you were reaching the front, you were surprised to see a student working the front desk instead of the usual cranky old lady. 

You’ve seen this student before, I mean she was gorgeous after all, you think she was in architecture or something to do with history. She usually hangs out with another beautiful girl with orange hair. Her blue eyes catch yours and you gulp  nervously, feeling like your entire being was being stripped down by her gaze. 

You steel yourself and walk right up to the desk with Ace coming up right behind you. Before you could say a word, Ace drops the book down on the desk and starts jogging off. 

“Hey! Sorry, I just got a text from my bros, they need me for something, so I gotta go! Just give me the book tomorrow or whatever, catch you later!” 

He leaves out the door before you could say anything or catch him, leaving you alone with the hot librarian lady. Somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to lock eyes with her so you just awkwardly cough, keeping your eyes on the book as you spoke. 

“Ah..um, I would like to check out this book please. Just for a week should be fine ... .thank you.”

You watch as her perfectly manicured hands take the book away and flip it open to scan the barcode inside the cover. You fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, too shy to watch her work. You hear her flip a few more pages and hum; “Interesting…”

You felt a small tap on your own hand and looked up to find her showing the book to you, opened to a random page, a random page with very suspicious wet spots on it…

Oh..

Oh no…

Oh my fucking god, you were gonna kill Ace then yourself. That if you don’t burn in shame and embarrassment right now. You sputter and flop around to come up with a believable excuse for those stains. 

“O-oh! Um gosh! Really sorry I think I might have dropped my water bottle on the table while we were reading, heh. I-I mean, yeah! I definitely knocked over a bottle of water when reading that book…” 

You trail off, realizing how high pitched your voice was, how Ace didn’t even bother to hide his kiss marks or love bites before he left, and how stupid you probably sound to her right now. Your shoulder slump down as your voice fades off to a quiet apology. She chuckles at this, a light and airy sound that makes your heart start racing hearing it. She catches your eyes again and this time you can’t look away. 

“Don’t worry darling, I know how to keep a secret.” She winks at you, and goes to flip the page back to the cover. Her finger swipes at a wet corner, which she then brings that same finger up to her mouth and licks it. All the while keeping eye contact with you. Your mouth drops wide at the sight, inciting another chuckle out of her. 

The next few moments go by in a flash as your brain tries to process what just happened. You're brought back to reality as she hands you back the book with a little card sticking out the top. 

“As much as I would love to keep playing with you, the library has pretty strict closing times, so I must ask you to leave.” 

You nod dumbly, shoving the book under your arm and stumbling your way towards the exit. She waves you off with such a pretty smile on her face. You walk outside in the crisp cold nighttime air and breathe in heavily. 

This was one hell of a night, you decided that all your brain cells were spent today so you would sleep on today’s event and think about it tomorrow. 

As you were walking back home, the little card that was in the book fell out. You bend down to grab it again and as you do, you read what’s on the card. 

“XXX-XXXX If you want to have a even better time <3 ~ Robin”

[aniesvision]

distraction (bff!colby x f!reader)

based on a request! (im sorry it's not exactly how u asked for but i'll do more fics with colby and try to use all your requests, for now i hope u like this one 💕)

warnings: little angst at the beginning, mentions of break-up and cheating (not her or colby), crying, kissing, making out, fingering, oral (f! receiving), handjob, p in v, pet names (baby, pretty girl), kinda rough (?), slight dumbification, spanking but just a lil bit, all fours!, orgasm denial, praising, pleading, backshot.

a/n: hi! I had this in my notes but in portuguese, so I tried to translate it, if the writing is different that's why! i hope you guys enjoy it, and just the usual reminder: english is not my first language!

synopsis: you go through a breakup and decide to drive to your best friend's house to distract yourself, but he surprises you with his choice of distraction.

note: Colby's purple!

🪻🪻🪻

Although I had always loved rainy days, the gray clouds covering the sun and the drops of water soaking the concrete streets, today I couldn't see it in a positive way. Traffic was at a standstill, a thunderstorm was falling on the glass, and the sound of my music was being drowned out by the loud noise of drops contacting the roof and windows of the car.

In any other situation, I would've just parked, turned up the sound and enjoyed the time. But now, I would do anything to stop all this and just get to my destination right away.

The stress of the current situation and the memories of what brought me this far rolled through my mind and all I could do was feel the tears forming and falling on the steering wheel.

It was just a few more damn blocks, just a few more streets, just a little bit more. The crying came as hard and heavy as the rain outside. If there's one thing I've always hated it's feeling weak. To be collapsing in the car, standing in the middle of the street with a storm happening, the feeling of being so close, yet so far from where I wanted to be, was too much.

Not only that, but having just moved out of my, now ex, boyfriend's house after he decided to finally confess that he had been cheating on me for the past few weeks while I had been traveling for work and thinking about how I missed him didn't help at all.

I didn't want to go for so long, I hated being out of the house, out of my comfort zone, and even though I enjoyed my job and learned a lot, maybe I could have avoided it all.

Of course, if he cheated, it wasn't because we were separated for a long time (witch wasn't even the case, it was just two weeks), it was because he was a dick.

But still, I can't help but wonder if things could've gone differently if I had simply refused the trip.

It was only two weeks, which in theory wouldn't be that long. Two weeks, in which I dedicated myself to work and tried to improve my career. Two weeks in which he was always too busy for a facetime, but said he missed me. Two weeks in which I bought gifts for him, in which I texted him whenever it was possible, in which he was fucking another woman in the same bed that I used to spend my nights.

I returned from the trip straight to him, straight to his house, straight into his arms. The hug and touch I wanted to feel so much.

He opened the door and didn't even smile at me. I walked in, asked what was wrong, my heart already felt that something was going to happen, that there was something wrong. I knew, even before he said anything, that we weren't going to stay together after that conversation.

When we sat down and he explained his reason for not wanting to be with me anymore, for making me feel guilty for leaving him alone, apologizing for cheating on me but not seeming to regret it, my heart broke into a thousand little pieces.

I didn't say a word, I just handed him the gift I bought him during the trip, knowing he'd like it, and walked out the door. I hadn't cried until then, even though I was destroyed from the first moment.

My idea was to go to my best friends' house and try my best to forget about all this. But, traffic happened, and the tears kept coming, and I couldn't even pull myself together enough to drive a few more damn streets. I cried, and cried some more, and even more.

I cried until I had no more tears left, and then I felt so tired that I couldn’t even think straight. I took a deep breath, started the car, and drove the rest of the way to his house. I knocked on the door a few times, and as soon as it opened, I didn’t even wait to figure out who had opened it, I just buried my face in the chest of the person in front of me and clung to their body with all the strength I had left.

The person in front of me gently pushed me back. Colby looked at me with concern, his eyes softening as he take in my state. He pulled me into another hug, allowing me to stay there as long as I needed. After a while, we separated.

He locked the front door and explained that he was home alone, but Sam would probably be back later if I wanted to talk to him too. We sat on the living room couch. Colby hesitated to ask what happened, due to my state. I took a deep breath, removed my sneakers, crossed my legs on the couch, and mindlessly played with my fingers while I told him what happened, without looking at him.

-He cheated on me. — I said, simply and directly, my voice slightly hoarse and still filled with sadness.

Colby's eyes widened in shock, and he quickly stood up, stopping in front of me.

-What?? —His voice carried anger.

He was in disbelief, caught off guard by my confession, but it was clear how furious he was.

I remained silent, unable to repeat the phrase that had already been so difficult to say out loud.

-He’s a damn idiot for cheating on a girl like you. Fuck, I want to punch him so bad right now. —Colby ranted, pacing from one end of the room to the other.

It was hard not to break down right there, but it was even harder to cry in front of someone else. Despite having cried in front of Colby before, I didn’t want to shed tears for someone who didn’t deserve them.

-I don’t want to remember it anymore. Can we talk about something else, please? I just need a distraction. —I said, frustrated.

Colby looked at me, the anger gradually turning into understanding. He took a deep breath to calm himself and nodded, extending a hand to help me up before pulling me into another hug.

-Yes, of course. Whatever you want. —He said, his tone softer now.

He stroked my hair with one hand and my back with the other. We stayed like that for a while, not saying anything, just appreciating the closeness. After a few minutes, he pulled away just enough to look into my eyes, studying me carefully, trying to understand my feelings. It looked like he was examining every detail of my face, maybe to gauge how I was doing, simply out of concern.

Colby gave me a small smile, cupping my cheeks with his hands and leaving a gentle caress there. His gesture made me smile back, and I looked at him as attentively as he looked at me.

Without saying anything or even preparing me for his next move, he pressed his lips on mine in a delicate, quick kiss, pulling away in less than five seconds, afraid of my reaction.

I stared at him, not angry, not irritated, not disappointed, just extremely confused.

-You said you needed a distraction. —He explained, his voice low and hesitant, as if he still wasn’t sure if he should have done that, if it had worsened the situation or possibly helped.

I think about what he said. Colby and I had shared a few kisses before at parties when I was single, and he was too. But, at parties, we were in a more appropriate setting for friends to just kiss spontaneously without needing any justification, purely out of desire or a “fuck it” moment.

And now, despite not being at a party, I was upset, heartbroken, and genuinely needed something to take my mind off things. So, the “fuck it” moment happened, and I leaned in to kiss him again.

What was supposed to be just a quick peck, turned into something more when he decided to deepen the kiss and brush his tongue against mine. It was the first time we kissed for real. It wasn't just a simple touching of lips, but a true tongue battle, with our heads slightly tilted to opposite sides.

His hands moved to my hips, pulling me closer, and I wrap my hands around his neck, playing with his hair. He was a good kisser, the synchrony of our mouths was perfect, and the distraction was working way too well, until he pulled away, with a smug smile on his face.

-Do you feel distracted yet? —He asks, in a sarcastic tone, like he wanted to find a way to provoke me as he always do. I roll my eyes with a small smile on my lips, not even thinking twice before responding.

-I think I'm not distracted enough.

He pulled me into another kiss, even more intense than the last one. Gradually, he took two steps back, sitting down on the couch, with his legs slightly open, his eyes focused on mine.

He pulls me by the hands, making me sit on his lap, each leg of mine on one side of his body.

We went back to kissing, not even giving ourselves time to process what we were doing. It felt so natural, as normal as a routine, it felt comfortable enough that I didn't even wonder if I should be making out with my best friend.

The kiss became deeper, more intense. Colby moves his hands to my ass, pulling me even closer, making me feel his already hard member through his sweatpants. In an automatic action, I move my hips, grinding on him and making him separate the kiss to let out a loud sigh.

Our gazes met once again, his pupils were dilated, his eyes looked different, the tension in the air was almost palpable.

He squeezes my ass, making me gasp, and a smile appears on his lips. I didn't know when Sam was going to come back home, I only knew that this was in fact happening when I felt my shirt being pulled off my body and thrown on the floor.

Fortunately for me I wore a nice bra today, which matched my panties. My idea was that someone else would see it, but it didn't happen as I expected.

I didn't know how to feel when my thoughts went to how slutty I was to let someone else see me that way so quickly after my break up, but considering that I trust Colby with my life, and it was visible how fascinated he was, I couldn't case less.

His eyes scan my body, his fingers lightly moving at my sides, almost shyly, feeling my skin. But he wasn't shy, it was obvious from the way he was basically eye fucking me.

- I really want to do this, but I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of the situation to get in your pants. —He says. I smile, grateful that even though we were making out, he still thinks of me with respect.

I take one of my hands to his chin, lifting it with two fingers.

- I trust you. —My voice is firm, although it contains a certain sweetness.

He nods, getting the message, and kisses me again. In one quick motion, he takes off his own shirt, tossing it close to mine on the floor, wasting no time in exploring my exposed skin with his fingertips.

His lips trace kisses from my mouth to my neck, where he leaves some hickeys. My eyes remain closed, feeling every touch my best friend provided.

Without thinking too much, I run my fingers through his skin too, feeling every detail. Even though I've seen him shirtless before, this was different, it was another context and another occasion.

I let my fingers slide down to the waistband of his sweatpants, but before I could pull it down, he switches our positions, laying me down on the couch and doing what I planned to do, taking off his sweatpants and tossing it aside.

He does the same with mine, his eyes looking me up and down, his lips finding mine to another kiss.

Our glued bodies, the friction between our skins and the last pieces of clothing are reasons enough for us to understand that we were crossing a line. Even so, neither of us took the time to stop and ask if we were sure, it was obvious from how unable we were to stop. From the fact that I was already hot, my panties soaked and how hard he was.

There was no room for questioning.

Slowly, Colby's hands find the clasp of my bra, gently taking it off. He stares at my boobs for a few seconds, his mouth agape like he was seeing the best work of art of all times in front of him.

-So beautiful. —He mumbles, before bringing his lips to my nipples and leaving wet kisses there.

He squeezes my other boob with his free hand, making me gasp, which gave him even more confidence to continue.

He gave the same attention to the other nipple, gradually moving his kisses to my belly, stopping just before my panties, looking up and smiling before letting his fingers curl around the elastic.

Even though I didn't say a word to stop him, his eyes asked for my permission, and I answered him only with a quick nod.

He took off the last piece of clothing that covered my body, my skin completely exposed to the eyes of my best friend. A wave of nervousness hits me, making me somewhat anxious about the situation I got on.

Colby leaves light kisses on the inside of my thighs, getting closer and closer to where I wanted, taking his time to tease me. When finally his lips make contact with my sensitive area, his tongue tracing a line from my entrance to my clit, a small moan of pleasure escapes my mouth.

-Mhm, Colby, please... -I whine.

It only served to boost his ego, his tongue moving faster and more precise, my hips moving involuntarily against his mouth, his hands firm on my thighs as he kept his head in between my legs, making me completely forget how strange and maybe even wrong it was that I was so easily surrendering to another person.

-Colby... - His name comes out low, in a small plea for him not to stop, one of my hands intertwining in his hair and pulling him closer, my back arching on the couch.

Even though I can't see, I feel a smile forming on his lips, one of his hands sliding down my thigh. He slides a finger under his chin, pushing in and moving it at the same speed as his tongue.

A few moans come naturally from my lips, my hand holding his hair tighter, my head being thrown back and my eyes closing in pleasure. It was almost impossible not to give in, all the anxiety I felt earlier going away with the knot that formed in my stomach.

-Colby, fuck, I'm... -I try to warn him, his voice interrupting me.

-Cum on my fingers, baby.

A feeling of tension followed by relaxation takes over my body and little by little he withdraws his finger and his tongue from me, looking at me intently.

My only reaction was to hold his face and pull him in for a kiss, feeling my own taste. My hands move until I managed to get the last piece of clothing off his body, leaving us equally naked. I use one of my hands to feel him, his veins pulsing in my fingers, the tip hot and red. The sigh coming out of his lips as he feels my hand working on his member, not letting me continue until I'm done as he uses one of his hands to hold both of mine above my head, his other free hand lining up his member at my entrance and thrusting it all at once.

I bite my lips, trying not to scream when I feel the burning sensation and light pain before I got used to his size, a shaky moan leaving my throat. Colby continues to hold my hands, the other now at my waist, his face buried on the curve of my neck.

-Harder... -I plead, his head tilting so he could see me, a smirk on his lips.

-Yeah? Want me to be rough with you? Fuck you dumb? -His thrusts were faster and harder now, with each thrust he'd get balls deep into me, hitting all the right places.

-Please, please, fuck, Colby. -I cry out as he lets out a cocky laugh.

I didn't even tried to keep my moans low and quiet, they already came out loud and frequent, some curses and pleading being constant acts at this point.

The phrases I never thought I would hear coming from him, and from me to him, were the touches of reality that showed me that it was real, it was happening, I was enjoying it, and that, for some reason, my best friend was making me feel more pleasure than my ex made me feel in all the months we were together.

My fingernails had left marks on his back, but he didn't seem to care.

-Turn around. -He groans, pulling out and turning my body so I was in all fours.

I didn't even had a chance to speak before he was burying his dick inside of me once more, the new position making me feel him even deeper than before. Tears were already starting to form on my eyes.

He grabs my hair, keeping me up, leaning to whisper in my ears.

-Such a good girl for me, letting me fuck you like this.

I whine at his words, my legs shaking and another orgasm building up quickly in my stomach.

-Gonna cum for me again, pretty girl? —He asks, leaning down to kiss my shoulder.

I couldn't even speak at this point, so all I do is hum in affirmation, moans getting louder and louder.

-Hold it. —His demand was low and firm, and my eyes widen in surprise.

-C-Colby, fuck, can't, please, I need it so bad, please, please. —I look over my shoulder, catching his smirk before he pushed my head down onto the cushion and slapped my ass harshly.

-Cum with me, baby.

He slaps my ass one last time and my orgasm snaps, making me release all over his dick with a loud moan of his name. I feel him pulling away and shooting his load on my back, making me whine.

×××

We were already both lying down, next to each other, recovering the air and energy we had expended in the last few minutes, in silence, which was only broken by my laughter.

-I can't believe we did that.

He laughs along with me, shaking his head in denial and sitting up. Colby picked up all of our clothes on the floor, and handed me mine carefully, helping me up next.

-Wanna take a shower? —He asks, with caution in his voice like he wanted to proceed carefully from now on.

I nod my head, and he helped all the way through. The affection he showed was genuine, and I appreciated that very much, especially now.

After we are properly cleaned and in comfortable clothes, we lie down on his bed and he pulls me closer. I put an arm and a leg around his body, getting comfortable, and he wraps his arm around me, hugging me back. I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling his hand playing with my hair.

We stayed like this, no need to talk about what happened, just enjoying each other's company, until Sam arrived. I had to say, once again, the story of my breakup, but I didn't feel so sad to tell it anymore. Not while Colby held my hand and listened to everything intently, giving me the assurance that he would be there whenever I needed him.

a/n: I'm not sure how to feel about this one 😭

[i2sunric]

HOLD YOUR BREATH (s.jy)

pairing: detective!jake x reader (f)

summary: not having seen your husband’s face in two days, you decide to bring him dinner and check up on him— sleep deprived and stressed, he can’t help but get a taste of you.

warnings: 1960s au. mentions of murder, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pussy eating, pussy drunk jake (r we even surprised), semi-public sex, choking, p in v, jake is a detective, jake wears glasses, sex on desk, dirty talking, pet names (baby, love, darling), wall sex, breeding kink, cream pie, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

wc: 3.7k

published: 11th June 2024

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts s @shawnyle (oneshot) @kirinaa08 @immelissaaa @skzenhalove @anittamaxwynnn @honeybunnee @cherlv

a/n: based on this ask from anon! sorry if it took me a while to prepare it, hope you like it tho <3 please LIKE & REBLOG!

Being a detective in the 60s wasn’t easy at all. With all the danger occurring and newly killers all walking around, trying to take lives as if they were useless, you couldn’t help but bite your nails as you waited for Jake at home.

But being a detective’s wife was even more difficult. The constant dread fuelling your heart until it was too heavy to carry.

One late Friday night, you were sitting by the kitchen table all alone. The warm June air hitting your skin since you left your window open, watching as the sun was beginning to set.

You had already deep cleaned the whole apartment, probably not even a single crumb of dust was left.

Then, you rearranged the books on the shelves.

In the morning, alphabetically and in the afternoon from the oldest to the newest. Ridiculous.

Utterly bored, you had even painted your nails of a weird shade of green that matched your favourite blouse-skirt set.

You weren’t even being dramatic, given the fact that your only company hadn’t shown his face at home for two days.

Date a detective, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

It was everything but fun or entertaining, since you spent most of the time alone, due to his crazy schedules.

But you loved Sim Jake too dearly to even consider confronting him about it.

You heard a few stories about old ladies’ nieces at the hair salon you worked who got forced into marriage and you were so glad it hadn’t happened to you.

Because you knew it, bet your heart on it that Jake would always choose you first.

You glanced at the clock that ticked half past seven and like the perfect wife you were, you began to wonder if Jake was even taking care of himself. Had he eaten enough? Had he even eaten at all?

So, rolling up your sleeves, you cooked a delicious meal to bring him to his workplace. Inside the small lunch box was some warm miso soup and vegetables for his big, sexy brain.

Repressing the shiver that ran through your spine when you stepped out of your house and immediately spotted a ‘Missing Person’ sign, you started walking down the familiar road. You just thanked the sun was still high enough to bring some natural source of light.

You reached his office when it was dark already, having walked almost one hour away. Cursing the heels you forced yourself to wear even as your feet screamed for help, you knocked on the door.

The new detective Jake introduced you at a dinner showed up, bright smile and innocence plastered on his face “Hello! Miss Sim.”

You smiled back “Good evening, Mister Kim.” Sunoo stepped aside from the door “Looking for Detective Sim?”

You hummed as you took in the sight of the very dark hallway “Third door on the left, is that right?”

Sunoo nodded happily, “You remembered.” He then placed one hand on the side of his mouth to whisper “But I warn you, he’s not in the brightest mood.”

Oh goodness. “Thank you for the information.” You said as you walked away, to the door that led to your husband’s office.

Softly knocking on the door, you waited for his response, and when his grumpy “What?” From the other side, you decided to open the door.

And there your husband was, his hair sticking to every direction while his glasses almost fell down his nose bridge.

Jake was playing billiards, leaning against the table as he desperately tried to get in the ball. A simple task that seemed not to work for him, since he looked so distressed.

A cigar balanced between his upper and bottom lip, its smoke lingering in the air.

When his chocolate brown eyes finally settled on your figure, they softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

“Y/N.” Jake breathed out, placing down the pool stick on the table and walking towards you as you closed the door “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you dinner.” You raised the lunch box in your hand, smiling “Figured you might need it.”

His brows knitted, a frown appearing on his face “You walked here all alone?” He glanced at the clock that ticked nine already “It’s dangerous, baby.” Don’t let yourself be fooled by the sweet nickname, his tone was low and rather pissed.

Being in contact with crime most of his day, Jake grew very protective of you, and directly imposed that you wouldn’t go out without him — or any male friend — after six pm.

You shook your head and let out a small sigh “I’m here, aren’t I?” You said as you walked towards his desk to place down the lunch box.

“Besides, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You tilted your head, resting your back on the table “Haven’t you missed me?”

“Christ, Y/N.” He walked toward you right away, closing the space you had put “I missed you like crazy.”

He dropped his head low and sighed tiredly “But there has been another murder and we can’t figure out who the culprit is. I’m in deep-sea here.”

You gently cupped his cheek in your small palm and rubbed your thumb “Maybe you should take a break?” You suggested “Working too hard fries your brain.”

Jake nodded “Maybe I should.” He murmured and looked behind his shoulders “Wand to play pool?”

You grimaced “You know I can’t play that game.” His lips twitched into a smile wrapping a strong arm around your waist. "I could teach you." He told you, lowering his head and brushing his lips against your ear.

You placed your hands with your newly polished nails on his clothed chest, right under his shoulders "I'm afraid I'm a lost case at this game, even for the greatest detective in town."

Jake chuckled lowly and tilted his head to press his lips against your own, sliding a hand downward to grip your thigh. He parted his lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth and tilting you backwards in between his body and the desk.

Jake took the opportunity to grip your thigh and spread it apart, too eager to even care about having a make out session first. He slipped his hand under your skirt and groaned when he felt your folds right under his fingers.

"Goodness, you didn't seem to be wearing anything." Jake mumbled against your lips before trailing his own down your jawline and to your neck.

His fingers pressed against your core and he groaned lowly, sliding his fingers across your entrance.

You let out a quiet gasp at the feeling and let out a small chuckle before his fingers delved deeper inside of you, moving in and out of your wetness while kissing across your jawline.

"You seem quite needy already, love." He mumbled with his gravelly voice. You grasped the back of his head and rested your forehead on his, your eyes never leaving his.

He kissed the tip of your nose, such a gentle gesture in contrast to the filthy thing he was doing to your body, the sound of your slickness pooling down your thighs and on his wrist filled the room— until it was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Cursing under his breath for not having locked the door when you first came in, and not having foreshadowed his fingers deep inside you, he pressed a finger on his lips to shush you. “Who is it?” He then asked.

“Detective Sim?” Someone’s voice came from the other side “The captain wants to speak with you, sir.”

He was about to turn the doorknob when Jake said “Busy at the moment.”

The other detective stepped back from the door but didn’t walk away. “It’s important.” He said bluntly.

You thought that at those words, Jake would leave you there on the table and go doing his job, instead he curled his finger inside of you, making you press a hand on your mouth to middle a moan.

“You can tell me from there.” The detective began speaking and Jake looked down at you, his eyes darkened as he continued to move his fingers in a circular motion inside of you. "Keep quiet, mh?" He whispered to you, his tone smug.

You let out a shaky breath and grasped his forearm, doing your best to not let out any noise.

He let out a low chuckle, curling his fingers again to draw a moan from you. "Shh, you have to be quiet." He whispered and the detective continued to speak.

Not like you could focus on what he was saying with the way his fingers worked you closer to the edge.

“About the murder cases we were working on…” The detective said, “I have an update.”

Jake tilted his head at the mention of the case and kept his fingers moving inside you. "And what is the update?" He called out, not letting up his movements at all.

You couldn’t take it anymore and tried to remove his wrist, "Detective Park found a similarity with the other two murders, seems like the culprit puts a small signature."

Jake ignored your piss-poor attempt to stop him as he continued to talk to the detective with a nonchalant tone.

"What sort of signature?" He questioned, a smirk on his lips while he continued his movements with a particular curling of his fingers.

Your legs shook as he kept hitting your sweet spot “He cuts the ring finger's nail of all the victims." The detective informed him.

Upon hearing the information Jake's eyes widened slightly before moving his sight back down to you. His fingers continued their ministrations, drawing more tremors from your body though his mind was working at the new information revealed to him.

Not hearing any reaction from the inside, Jake’s colleague added “Detective park said to find him when you aren't... busy?” He cleared his throat and for a second you thought he guessed what was happening “I'll tell him you'll talk to him later?"

Your husband hummed lowly as he thought back to the information, continuing to work his fingers in and out of you as if it helped him think. "Yes, I will come talk to him after." He told the detective with a steady voice, his eyes taking in your expression while his gaze darkened.

With the dismissal, the person’s steps went away until they completely disappeared. Jake smirked and moved his fingers faster, curling on your g-spot.

He lowered his head, pressing his lips against the side of your neck and up to your earlobe. "Just a little more, love." He whispered in your ear.

You moaned shakily, now finally able to let it out. You wrapped one arm around his neck to steady yourself as the other rested behind you.

You clenched around his two digits, the knot in your stomach tightening.

Jake let out a soft growl in your ear, his fingers curling against your sweet spot. "Not yet, wait." He demanded.

“W-what?” You frowned, unable to stop the euphoria creeping in “Why?”

Jake smirked against your ear "I'm not done with you yet, love." he mumbled huskily before taking your lobe in his mouth and sucking on it.

His fingers worked you until another moan nearly escaped your lips and he took that opportunity to capture them in his own "Quiet, you don't want anyone to hear you being a noisy little thing, do you?"

You shook your head as you threw it back, your hair dangling in the air and eyes squeezing. You bucked your hips to meet his hand, his palm rubbing against your clit.

Jake titled his head at the sight, looking ever so gorgeous. He added a third digit inside of you, but it stretched you so good to the point of pain. You couldn’t help but whimper out loud.

Jake chuckled at your reaction and his tongue delved between your lips when you whined, muffling your sounds. "Shh, you're being too loud, baby." He bit your bottom lip.

You clenched around his digits, walls taking them in “T-too much.” You murmured.

He hummed lowly and slowed his pace slightly, bringing one arm to grip your waist again. "You can handle it, can't you, baby?" Hequestioned as his fingers began to curl against your sensitive spot to ease your discomfort.

At the feeling, so full and good, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head “T-there.” You moaned helplessly “Keep going.”

“Be quiet for me.” He demeaned and curled his fingers at a speed you weren’t even sure was possible.

You looked down at where your bodies collided and couldn’t help but let out a moan, your slickness was pooling down his wrist onto the floor, making a whole mess.

Jake followed your gaze and smirked at the sight, “You like this? Mh?”

You nodded “Yes, Jake.” Your eyes were half lidded as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten “Like it. So good.”

Jake titled your chin up to meet his dark eyes and raised a brow, your walls sucking his digits in “Are you close, baby?”

Like the expert of your body that he was, he knew all the signs to pick up. “Yes— I’m so—“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence, that one particular curl on the spongy wall made your body shake in release.

Jake’s arms wrapped around you, holding your body against his as you quaked, “Good girl." He mumbled in your ear, his fingers continuing their work until you came down from your high.

He pressed a soft kiss to your jawline, his fingers slowly pulling out of and he smirked as they came out slick with your release. "You were so good for me, darling." he mumbled against your ear.

He pulled his fingers to his mouth and sucked them, he hummed “Love the taste of you.”

Jake gently gave your arm a light squeeze before moving you to the side. You watched him through puzzled eyes until you saw him pushing on the floor all of his files.

“Baby?” You asked and he only replied with a smile. He pressed his lips against your neck, sucking and biting on the soft flesh while he moved his hands to the back of your thighs.

“Now..." He mumbled as his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up.

You widened your eyes when you noticed how he placed you on the desk and rested your thighs on his shoulders, kneeling in front of you “There we go.”

“J-jake?” You asked, looking down at him. He winked at you “Just relax." He mumbled softly as his lips began to trail across your thighs.

Your body twitched at the feeling, his featherlight kisses sending waves of pleasure.

Jake trailed his lips up until they were close to your core, his breath fanning against your sensitive skin.

“Wait.” You tried to stop him by pressing one hand on his hair. “You haven’t been touched yet.”

He chuckled again, looking back up at you from his position in between your legs. "Don’t worry about me, love. This is about you." He whispered, blowing on your pussy.

You rolled your eyes back and Jake took the opportunity to swipe his tongue slowly on your core, tasting your juices and your previous cum.

“Oh, Lord.” You moaned out, grasping his hair into your hand, knuckles almost white.

He hummed as the taste of you hit his tongue, drawing a low groan from him.

Your breath grew heavy, slowly guiding his head to lick in the spots you were the most sensitive.

“You taste wonderful, love.” He whispered, sucking on your clit.

You unconsciously bucked your hips, not in control of your body anymore as it succumbed to the pleasure.

Jake chuckled and pressed a hand on your hip, pinning it down to keep you from moving while his tongue continued circles against your sensitive spot. "Stay still for me, darling." He mumbled, continuing his movements.

You arched your back and grasped his hair and he could tell that you were already close to the edge.

So, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your entrance, making you moan out as the warm and spongy feeling made your whole mind black out.

His eyes never left your expression as he watched you closely. He was enjoying making you squirm, moaning out his name.

And just like thunder crashing, your body shuddered while you squirted right on Jake’s face.

You widened your eyes, unable to stop the overwhelming feeling of pleasure as you basically screamed-moaned. At that point, you were sure even people on the streets knew what you two were up to.

However, Jake seemed very content with it. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his suit. “Pussy so good, makes my day better.” Your liquid was dripping down his glasses and jaw.

“I made a mess.” You whispered, propping yourself up on your elbows “And?” Jake raised a brow, pulling your chin in a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue “I love your messes.”

“I want to help you.” You stated, palming his angry hard-on “You already made me cum twice.”

“We don’t have protections.” He murmured, kissing your lips once, then twice “I don’t want inconveniences to happen.”

The thought of him breeding you made your mind fill with primal urges, but you tried to negotiate “You can pull out.”

Jake shook his head, resting it on your shoulder “I don’t have self control when it comes to you.” He kissed your clothed shoulder.

“A blow?” You questioned, caressing the little hair he had behind his head. Jake chuckled again, “I’m too rough and I don’t want to ruin your cute attire.”

His gaze travelled down to your hand that helped you hold yourself up and smiled “You put nail polish on? It suits you.”

How he managed to make your heart flutter after literally having you shake, you weren’t sure. Maybe he had a talent.

“I wanted to be pretty for you.” You chuckled, “Can’t ruin your reputation.”

No matter how much Jake tried to talk you out of sex in his office, the way he was slowly rutting his hips on your inner thigh gave him away.

He occasionally let out small hums in between his words, and you knew damn well he must be feeling so pained.

So, you slowly climbed down the desk and looked at him. He showed you a nice smile, oblivious to the contorted plants you had in mind. His lips dropped into a frown at the same moment your skirt dropped to your ankles.

“Y/N?” He asked, raising a brow as you began to unbutton your blouse, showing your silk bra.

If Jake had one weakness apart from eating you out, then it was your boobs. He loved them, worshipped them day and night.

His eyes darkened at such sight, walking towards you right away and pushing you against the wall.

“You drive me insane.” He whispered, unzipping his pants and letting them drop to the floor “You fuck my head.”

You watched him with excitement bubbling your stomach, he gripped your bare thigh and raised your leg until it was around his waist.

You looked down at his hard cock, pressing against your stomach “Watch me stretch this pussy out.” He said as he aligned himself with your entrance and thrusted inside of you.

You were so wet and sensitive, your skin burning against his. Jake gripped your ass so tight it would surely leave a mark by the next day, he rutted his hips inside of you at a fast speed.

“I don’t think I’ll last long.” He warned, “I feel you much better without a condom.”

You clenched around his length as his admission, making him groan. He pulled you into a heated kiss as he kept moving his hips, desperately chasing the relief he longed for.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, grip on your skin painful “Fuck, you were made for me.”

With one skilled hand, he undid your bra and palmed your breasts, his tip hitting your cervix, making you moan.

Jake lowered his head onto your chest and began sucking on your nipple, circling his tongue around it “Ah, Yes!” You chanted out.

Without missing a beat, Jake changed tit and did the same thing to the other.

“So deep.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as the familiar feeling of euphoria reached you for the third time “So good.”

“Yes baby,” He grunted, one hand sneaking up to wrap around your neck “You’re so good for me, so good.”

The sudden loss of air made you clench around him, your walls hugging his cock, sucking him in.

“Fuck— Stop clenching like that.” He huffed, squeezing his eyes just like you did “I’m already so close.”

“I don’t want you to pull out.” You placed one hand on his cheeks, brown eyes boring into yours “What?”

“I want you to cum inside of me.” A rather deep thrust “Your babies, I want them, I don’t care.”

“Oh goodness.” Jake grunted, his hips moving almost manically “You’ll be the death of me.”

You pulled him into a kiss which wasn’t exactly one, you two were just moaning and breathing into each other’s mouths.

“Are you sure, love?” He asked, drops of sweat coating his forehead, his bangs sticking to it “We can’t undo this.”

“I’m so sure.” You moaned out “Cum inside of me.”

At those words, Jake shot his load deep inside of you, filling you up with his warm seed.

You whimpered, grasping his forearm when the orgasm hit you as well, making you clench around him.

He held you against the wall, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

You smiled and removed one bang from his eye, caressing his cheek with your thumb “This was the craziest shit I’ve ever done.”

You slowly rocked your hips, needing to feel him more, needing his cum to stay inside of you.

Jake groaned and rested his forehead on yours “Damn baby, if this is how it’ll end up every time you visit, I hope you do it more often.”

[arionawrites]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!

[beyoncecock]

Hhhhhhgh

[neo-nomatrix]

EAT IT UP !

HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y

Multiple x reader

-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO

warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk

GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”

On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.

You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.

“You’re so fucking cute squirming”

“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”

“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”

NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”

Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.

Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.

“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”

“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”

“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”

Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.

Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.

“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”

“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much

“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”

GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”

SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.

On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.

“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”

“I know it’s so much, huh?

“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”

Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.

Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.

“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”

“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you

CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”

He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.

Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.

“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”

“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”

“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”

[gutsby]

Waiting Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Warnings: 18+. Protected p-in-v. Praise. Overstimulation. Sweet, possessive, slightly obsessive and pussywhipped Joel. Daddy kink. Drug use. Angst. Accidental creampie. Joel fucking you while on the phone with your father.

Part 2 | Part 3

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad presses. A hint of concern rises from his end of the line.

At length, Joel grips both of your legs and brings them up over his shoulders, and he grins before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelp as you crush the phone to your ear, hoping your father can’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

Aside from the fact that he smoked like a chimney and bumped far more Billy Joel than any man ever should, Mr. Miller was an A-OK friend—your father’s best friend.

All you needed was a ride home for the holidays.

From the second you’d set foot in his old Ford Bronco, you sensed this trek wouldn’t be an enjoyable one—thirty-hour road trips rarely ever were—but you leaned back in the passenger seat, propped your feet on the dashboard, and bopped along to ‘You May Be Right’ for the fifty-fifth fucking time that morning and smiled.

Joel frowned.

“Dogs off the dash,” he muttered, swatting at your bare, polished toes before you kicked his touch away.

“Shotgun puts her feet up, driver shuts his cakehole.”

That wasn’t even how the saying went. Oh well.

Joel slowed the car to sixty in the right-hand lane and smacked your ankles even harder. You yelped.

“Hey! You can’t hit a woman!”

“I’m not hitting a woman, I’m hitting a little gremlin,” Joel tried not to grin as he delivered another tart slap to your foot, and you almost jerked into the passenger door.

He momentarily righted the car before it went veering into the lane beside it, seized one of your feet, and tried to forcibly shove it off the dashboard, to no avail. As soon as he moved one limb, the other would glide right back up to take its place; Joel’s hands were big, but they weren’t massive enough to grab hold of both of your legs at once and make you stay the fuck there, Christ’s sake.

You liked to see him flustered. Brought a whole new hue to his tough, stubbled cheeks that folks rarely got to see. You squirmed in your seat when he reached for your side.

“Wh—NO! No tickling!” you cried, trying your hardest to roll away.

But the man was nothing if not a lover of cheap shots and filthy antics. He’d never played a clean game in his life and wasn’t about to start now.

His gaze darted from the road to your writhing form, pinned against the door and begging him to stop, while he pressed his foot harder on the gas and smirked.

“Too much?” he teased, “Say pretty, pretty please.”

In other words: give up. You would do no such thing. Your elbow jutted out to the side and clipped his fingertips sharply, and right before he could reach for you again, you were heaving yourself up and leaning almost halfway out the open window, trying to shy away from his touch.

“You fuckin’ nuts?! Get down!” he yelled.

“But it just may be a luuuunatic you’re lookin’ for!” you sang along to your old friend Billy Joel and pretended not to see, or hear, Joel Miller twisting desperately across the center console to take hold of your belt loops.

“Get—I swear to God, kid—DOWN!”

Joel had just managed to finagle a loose, feeble grip on your denim waistband as he tried to keep the car from soaring across three lanes of traffic, was just about to yank you back inside and give you a red-faced, fatherly lecture of a lifetime, when a sound startled you both.

A siren, and a set of flashing blue lights behind you.

You scrambled back in your seat and swallowed a lump in your throat the size of a peach. You turned off Mr. Long Island.

“Great! Good fucking going,” Joel griped beside you as he flicked on his blinker and started to pull off the road.

Dogs no longer on the dash—and a very pissed off cop pulling up behind your car on the shoulder of the road—you got the feeling this would be a long couple of days.

You hadn’t even made it outside the city limits of Boston.

Somewhere between Richmond and Roanoke, the two of you turned off the highway to find a place to sleep.

Joel had sat and stewed and ignored you for the customary duration of about two hours before choosing to re-engage in conversation, but deep down, you knew he was still kind of irked by that reckless driving citation he’d received. You couldn’t help but feel responsible.

Though it had been pretty funny when the state trooper had approached the car and pointedly asked, “What the hell was your daughter doin’ danglin’ outta this thing?!” Joel was nowhere near as amused as you, but he managed to roll with it and told the cop you were just trying to wave to the cows in the fields passing by.

The police officer hadn’t bought it.

He probably would have arrested you both if you hadn’t been such a coquettish flirt and somehow managed to persuade the man to let your ‘dad’ off with just a ticket.

You had hoped that would temper Joel’s anger some, but if anything, the sight only seemed to make him more mad at you. You weren’t sure why.

Presently, you pulled up to Balmaceda’s Mountain Lodge and cast a bleak look at the front office before you.

This looked nothing like the snug, homespun mountain retreat you’d been picturing in your mind. Ahead of your car, there stood a single-story concrete slab of a motel, tilted to one side and consumed almost entirely by the dark of night and wide open wilderness. A big block letter neon sign displaying the owner’s name in red now barely flickered above a muddied, pinkish glow. You groaned.

But before you could complain to your travel companion, Joel was already stepping out of the car and heading toward the main office. Hastily, you followed after.

“No way, Miller. No fucking way are we staying in Murder Motel,” you hissed.

“Bal-ma-ceda’s,” Joel intoned with a maddeningly accurate lilt, ignoring your protests, “I think that’s a Chilean name.”

He swung the door wide for you to enter and pretended not to see you shoot him a glare as you strolled in.

“Needin’ a room?”

The lady behind the counter barely graced your entrance with a look.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you got,” Joel replied, smiling.

“Smoking or non?”

“Smoking, please.”

Of course he would. You could already feel the fetid stench of American Spirits wafting up to your nostrils.

“King or two Queens?”

“Queens,” you and Joel answered in unison.

At first, the woman nodded, flicked through a rolodex on her desk and nosed through a couple yellowed pages in front of her. Then, frowning, she looked back up.

“Sorry. All the Queens are took up. Rest of the rooms are being fumigated but the one—” she tapped a manicured nail on the motel map, “—and it’s got a King. That okay?”

No. No, it was not. You opened your mouth to speak but were shortly cut off by the woman before you could.

“Of course, if you don’t want dad hoggin’ up all the sheets, there’s a pull-out sofa for him to sleep on.”

The sixty-something desk clerk offered a smile, and you likely would’ve returned the favor if you hadn’t been so deeply nauseated at the thought of everyone around you assuming that Joel was your father. You chanced a look at the man, who seemed equally uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You sighed.

“Alright.”

Defeated, but marginally pleased that you wouldn’t have to share a bed with your ‘old man’ that night.

Joel paid and signed the papers without another word, or look, to you or the woman. By the looks of it, he just wanted to book the room and get the hell out as fast as possible, his brow pinched inward and lips zipped tight.

He’d turned to leave so quick that he was almost approaching the door when the lady called out,

“Mr. Miller! You forgot your keys.”

You hardly needed to steal a glance in Joel’s direction to see that he was flushed. Even blushing a bit.

You strode over to the counter and intercepted the keys she was dangling for someone to take, then politely, finally, were able to manage a smile and a thank-you.

You turned back to Joel.

“Here you go, Daddy.”

In a blink, the small silver set was pelted in his hands, and the man nearly dropped them—and lost his balance. By some miracle, Joel managed to catch them between his big sweaty palms and step aside just in time for you to saunter past him, straight through the door.

“I’m starved,” you announced, then, averting your face to hide your smug expression and lower your voice a bit, “Feed me, Daddy.”

In that moment, Joel thanked every last one of his lucky stars that his pants were made of denim, and that the denim itself was thick. And that the woman at the front desk was swift to turn her attention back to her tabloid magazine, away from you two, and didn’t look up again.

If they weren’t, and if she hadn’t, it would’ve been plain as day to see that Joel Miller was sporting a hard-on.

A huge, swollen hard-on that made it almost impossible for him to walk and haul luggage and try to keep apace with your steps as you sailed along the gravel drive. So big the man had to will himself not to limp, not to make it known how stiff he was, until he eventually failed at both.

Once you’d grabbed your bags back at the car and made it up to your place, you entered Room 102 with a lightness you hadn’t felt all day. Joel slogged behind with all of the baggage and a boner beneath his jeans that probably could’ve cut sheet metal, if needed.

He was fucked. No doubt he’d have to enlist in the Witness Protection Program after your real father found out that his best friend had gotten visibly bricked up for you, his one and only daughter. How awkward holiday dinners were bound to be from that point on; how humiliating it seemed to him to pop a chub at a thing as dumb as saying ‘daddy’; how batshit insane it was that he hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year, and you were still, somehow, the only one he wanted to break the dry spell.

Joel was better than this. A fucking pro at self-control and all things dirty old guys didn’t do. He could chill out.

He just needed to rub one out in the bathroom, fast.

So, while you flopped down on the bed, Joel dropped every bag and made a beeline for the toilet. Slammed the door so hard he probably could’ve knocked the thing off its hinges, but he didn’t care. He was wrestling his belt, button, and zip off in a second. Then haphazardly turning on the sink to mask the sounds of all that was to come. No pun intended.

He yanked his thick, throbbing, rock-hard member out of its confines and had to hiss through his teeth to keep from moaning. The sensitivity he felt was unbearable, the front of his boxers already painted with pre-cum.

Gingerly, Joel wrapped one hand around his cock and raised the other to anchor himself against the sink. He slid his palm, which he’d just barely lubricated with some spit of his, up and down the shaft and groaned. A welt of pleasure formed in his chest, and he rubbed even faster. And, in spite of his legs feeling a bit like jelly, he stood there and fucked his fist and wished with every bit of himself that it was your warm, lush folds opening around him instead. Stifled a groan and would’ve paid any sum of money to hear your moans spilling out while he thrusted. The act here was more mindless and reflexive than anything else—jerking himself and soaking in the sharp, fiery sensations that shot up through his body.

To him, at least, it was all purely physical. Mechanical.

Nowhere near as euphoric and otherworldly as it would have been with your hand actually curled around him.

Or your lips. Or your tongue. Or your tight, wet cunt.

Fuck, he needed a shower.

Blindly, Joel moved inside the tub to his left and yanked the curtain shut over a space almost two times too small for his frame. He turned on the water and made it hot. Then he fisted his cock again, pressed his head to the shower wall, and pumped himself as fast as his forearm would allow him—trying all the while not to think of you.

You, with all your wily, shrewd ways were still the daughter of the man who guzzled down IPAs with him at the local dive bar every Thursday night over jalapeño poppers and buffalo dip. The man who clapped him over the shoulder and shook his frame with the kind of good-natured sneer that only a best friend could make, ‘A man as suave as you oughta get some tail every now and then. Go find you a gal and fuck her brains out, Joel!’

But the only ‘gal’ Joel wanted to rail was the one who called that man ‘dad’—and just called him ‘daddy’ for the first time that night—and he hated himself for it.

Sparks of pleasure continued to ignite across his lower half as he jerked himself in the shallowest, short pumps. He flicked his hand back and forth, circled the tip with his palm, and felt a groan start to claw at his throat. He tried to picture any face but yours but failed miserably.

All he could think, see, or breathe was you—imagining your lips enveloping the head of his cock, jerking him softly, taking him down to the back of your throat and bobbing that pretty little face up and down his length.

That sweaty, desperate fist of his just wasn’t cutting it.

For the first time, Joel couldn’t make himself cum.

Now even more pent-up and pussywhipped than he’d been when he first started, he slammed his palm against the wall and flung the shower handle in the opposite direction—turning the water as cold as it could get.

Five minutes passed, and the icy spray had scarcely left a dent in his raging erection. Joel stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips, and stood in front of the mirror to see that he was still very hard.

Fuck this.

He bunched his strewn aside clothing together and held it over his crotch, discreet as he could, and waddled out.

And, either the temperature inside had just jumped fifty degrees or the world outside had just caught fire, but Joel’s face was flooded with heat the second he exited.

You were sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but a thin white tank, shorts, and fuzzy socks—and a scowl.

“Sofa’s broke,” you said.

Joel blinked.

“Broke?”

You nodded toward the busted sleeper couch at the far end of the room, torn to pieces and kicked a half-dozen times since you’d tried unfolding it in Joel’s absence.

The jaws of the old steel frame had simply refused to give way, and now the sofa was so out of sorts and misshapen that you had no hope of putting it back the way that it was. You sank further in the bed and pointed to the floor.

“You can sleep there.”

Joel eyed a flat sheet and a pillow laid across the carpet, visibly coated in dust and grime. He turned back to you.

“You’re smokin’ crack if you think I’m doin’ that.”

“Be grateful I’m not making you sleep in the car, daddy.”

Again with that fucking name. Joel tightened his grip on the clothes he was holding over his dick and tried to fight a thousand dirty thoughts threatening to seep back into his head.

Unfortunately, the dirty thoughts had hands—and were beating his ass to a bloody pulp when he first caught sight of your nipples poking up through your shirt. Just when the man might have started to drool or else begun humping that pile of clothes, you snapped your fingers.

“Miller Lite. Eyes up here.”

Fuck.

“Got a…stain on your shirt,” he grumbled in his defense.

“Shut up. Now, we can flip for the bed if you want.”

By turns, Joel’s focus was slowly coming back, and the man was trying like hell to find a place on your face that didn’t arouse him to no end—to help ease the intrusive thoughts and all. So far his search had yielded nothing.

“Like, uh…coin?” he asked. Endearingly stupid.

“Heads, I win,” you said, nodding, “Tails…”

Joel swallowed.

“Tails, what?”

“Tails, you tell me what was going on in your head when you were jacking off to the thought of me just now.”

Your words came out in a hurry, almost too quick for Joel to comprehend. He still heard them, though, and nearly choked on his spit when he tried to swallow again.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” you bit back, “I heard you moan my name.”

Joel didn’t remember that. Joel didn’t remember much of anything that had taken place in that bathroom apart from being implacably horny and unable to bust a nut. You stepped off the bed to stand in front of him.

“What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” you sneered, “Think I’m just gonna run off and tell my da—”

“Don’t,” Joel’s response was immediate, insistent. Then, setting his jaw in a way you knew too well, contemplating about fifty different thoughts in the span of two seconds, he pressed the clothes pile to his crotch even tighter and sighed, “Don’t…do that, please. I’ll take the floor.”

You raised both brows, mildly amused.

“I said we could flip for it. C’mon,” you said.

“Ain’t got any coins.” Joel was already retreating to his makeshift sleeping pad on the floor, eyeing the shag carpet for any traces of blood, piss, or rodent droppings. Before he made it too far, you reached for his arm.

Joel tensed under your touch.

“We can try something else.” Your voice was cloying, almost too sweet to be trusted.

It had just dawned on you then how bare the man standing before you was. Clad in only his towel, every taut, toned inch of Joel’s body was there on display—coated with sweat and a fine sheen from the shower, his skin practically shone in the glow of the bedside lamp. You watched him shift in place and saw the towel around his hips stir along with it. He never let those old clothes in his hands move an inch away from his groin, though.

“What game?” he asked.

“Something my roommates showed me,” you began, “‘Too Hot.’”

“Too Hot?”

“You heard me.”

“What, like— like Spin the Bottle, or some bullshit?”

Joel could just picture it: a gaggle of your college pals huddled around an old, empty bottle of Bud Light as you watched it turn circles again, and again, and again on the dorm’s linoleum floor. You tugging at the sleeve of some oversized man-child from a frat Joel couldn’t name, leaning in and beaming like the insatiable flirt he knew you to be, asking that boy if he wanted to sneak off somewhere and let his tongue take a tour of your mouth.

The thought made Joel’s stomach turn.

Presently, you wrinkled your nose up at him.

“Spin the Bottle? That’s rookie shit,” you made another face reminding Joel, once more, how little he knew of the life you lived 1,900 miles away from Austin, at college.

He still couldn’t shake the thought of those boys.

“No, Joel,” you shook your head, drawing your syllables out for effect, “‘Too Hot’ is just…edging your opponent.”

Joel’s throat tightened, and he tried not to let his eyes widen too much, but he was almost certain they had. Before he even knew the words he was saying, the thought of your father taking his fist—or a shotgun—to his face made him blurt out in response, stammering,

“We can’t— I can’t— can’t lay one finger on you, darlin’, you know that. Your dad would murder me.”

To his surprise, the smile on your face only widened.

“Bingo,” You stuck one pretty finger in his face like he’d made the world’s finest discovery, “You can’t touch me.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the whole fuckin’ game, Miller. We can kiss, but we can’t touch each other with our hands. First one to crack and grope the other player loses the game.”

Your expression now was something just shy of sadistic. Watching him with keen, narrowed eyes and a wicked little grin, it seemed you were half-expecting him to fold on the spot. No way was this a game your college friends taught you; you just wanted to play him. Make him lose.

And Joel was a man who couldn’t stand to lose, no matter the stakes.

You watched that failure-averse glint eclipse every shade of lust in his eyes, at least momentarily. Suddenly, Joel didn’t look so fearful of your father’s wrath or what lurid implications this night might bring—he just had to win.

“You suck, you know that?” he said, at last, dropping his makeshift shield from the front of his towel and knocking you flat on the bed with a single push.

“You wish I would,” you grumbled, heart still jumping up in your ribcage all the same. You scooted back.

“I bet you will.”

The man was a menace when he had the will to be.

At length, Joel crawled over your body and made room for himself snug between your legs. The bulge that he’d been trying to hide all this time was now heavy on your center, pressed tight to your stupid-thin shorts and the panties you’d conveniently forgotten to wear. He grinned.

“Are tongues allowed?” he hummed.

“Everything but hands,” you shrugged.

Try as you might to play it cool with him, though, every fibre of your being was alight with desire for the man on top of you. You flitted a look between his soft brown eyes and slightly parted lips and could’ve melted in that bed had Joel not lowered his head and dove right in for it.

His mouth was far gentler than expected. Reverent, even. He slotted his lips between your own and made a fine, delicate showing of just how tender and adept he could be while imparting his slow, sweet kisses. Skirted his tongue across your bottom lip before driving it inside, coaxed your mouth open to him in a matter of seconds. He was graceful. And patient. And lithe with that tongue.

Joel Miller was showing off for you—the bastard.

“Sweet little thing,” he groaned against your mouth, “Ain’t felt a tongue this shy on mine in a long time.”

Of course he’d try taunting you, too. Same old Joel.

“What’s it been? Two years since a woman let you touch her?”

“Twenty since I felt one this good.”

You would’ve liked to reach around the back of his head and seize a clump of that thick, dark, grey-speckled hair. But you couldn’t. Your hands remained plastered to the duvet beneath you, and then, just slightly, your fingers started to curl inward. Joel’s palms laid flat on either side of your head.

It felt weird; mashing lips, teeth, and tongue with a man who’d been alive about twenty years longer than you and went further back with your father than you could even remember. What felt even stranger was the fact that you couldn’t touch him, or take him between your two hands.

Joel’s tongue continued roaming every contour and crevice of your mouth like he had an ache for this taste that he just couldn’t quench. Your tongue tried keeping up, too, but frankly, you were too preoccupied by a pulse between your legs—your parts and Joel’s practically throbbing in time with one another—to work just as hard.

Even through the towel, he felt huge.

You whined when Joel started to grind up against you, and shortly, those fingers of yours that had just been grazing the sheets before were gripping them. Tight.

“Earlier…” Joel murmured between kisses, hips working a vicious pace against you, “You said you were hungry.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry—starved,” he corrected himself, and you almost could’ve smacked him for being so smug about it.

“What’s your point, Miller?” You were fisting the sheets beneath your palms and gyrating your whole body to meet the motions of the man currently dry-humping you.

All of a sudden, Joel’s movements stopped.

He peered down at you with a curious look.

“I could go for something to eat, too,” he declared.

You blinked. Stared. And just when you’d opened your mouth to say, well, maybe you should’ve grabbed us a bite to eat when we passed that Burger King on the way in, dipshit, Joel’s torso started to move down your own. Slow and painstaking as ever as he made sure not to graze one inch of your skin with his hands while he did.

You leapt back against the headboard, almost cracking your skull on the wood.

“Joel— Joel,” you hissed as the heels of your feet dug into the mattress below, and Joel just sank even further.

Then he was slowly, scrupulously pinching the fabric of your shorts between each index finger and thumb, gaze trained close on your lower half to make sure he never touched you, and he started pulling it down.

“This isn’t—” you started again, only to be offered a soft shush and an even quieter rustle of the cotton material sliding down both your legs.

You dropped your head on a pillow and probably could’ve burned a hole in the ceiling with the wide-eyed look you fixed on one spot, in utter disbelief of what he was doing.

“No panties, huh?” Joel observed. Gentle puffs of his breath were now fanning across the whole bare expanse of your lower half, and your pyjama bottoms were shortly discarded. His face was just hovering there, and you could tell that he knew you knew by the way he lowered his voice and brought his head to have only the tips of his chin stubble grazing your abdomen, “You needed this.”

Some lone remnant of ire flashed in your eyes.

“I don’t need shit from you, Miller. You need me. And you’re gonna lose this.”

Even though your gaze was still trained to the ceiling, you could feel him grin against your delicate skin.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “You said tongues are fair game.”

Fuck me, you wanted to keen the second his lips made contact with your…lower ones, and Joel swiftly got to kissing you there just as he’d done to you above. Hot, soft, and tender as the first rays of morning sun heralding a new day, he sponged his lips across the seam of your heat and made as if to massage the place, gently.

You could hear as well as you could feel that effusion of desire leaking out of your cunt and pooling around the man’s mouth. How eager he was to lap it up with his tongue, to grace your ears with those delectable squelching sounds, he caressed every inch between your folds and only sank deeper when you whined above him.

“Joel.”

Right now you couldn’t look down. Not with the way your legs were already trembling around his head, your chest heaving with the fastest, most frenzied breaths. You’d sooner die before you watched him unravel you like this.

“Darlin’, you’ve got a man soaked.” Some sound almost resembling a chuckle reverberated between your thighs and sent a brand new shockwave of pleasure in its wake, “You like it when daddy uses his mouth on this needy, wet cunt, don’t you?”

Yes, yes, you did. But your answer was nonverbal: a sharp curl of your toes and a grip between your fingers so tight across the sheets that he saw you veritably could’ve torn the linens in two.

Neither of you had laid a hand on the other.

Joel was perfectly content to make do with his mouth for now.

“Got those sheets all balled up, you’re fixin’ to rip ‘em.”

“My tongue make ya feel that good, honey?”

“Poor thing can’t even breathe it feels so nice, right?”

So he’d seen you hiccup, try to steady your breaths, and fail before succumbing to a string of lewd moans. Joel saw you, and knew how you felt, as if he’d had his own secret gauge for how good his mouth was doing you in.

Surely, he could’ve sensed the words before they ever came out of your mouth.

“Touch me, Joel, please.”

His tongue was just then making a lazy circuit around your clit, mouth saturated in your juices, when he smiled.

“Nah.”

Curt and cruel as ever. Then:

“No matter how fuckin’ perfect this pussy is, I ain’t losin’.”

He completed the arc with his tongue and took your bud between his lips, sucking in. You almost screamed.

“Motherfucker.”

“Miller, baby, Miller. Close, though.”

And just when you thought he’d had his fill of cheeky games, Joel sucked your clit even harder and flicked the tip of his tongue against your bundle of nerves until you were writhing, crying on the bed above him,

“JoelbabypleasebabyfuckmefuckohfuckitfeelsoGOOD.”

It was a bit tough to decipher through your strangled, desperate moans, but Joel got the picture. Heeding your requests, he kept at that pace above your clit and slid his tongue back and forth, over and over, lapping up your honeyed glaze like it was the finest thing he’d tasted. Scruff harsh against your thighs, lips soft in a perfect suction, Joel Miller had your head swimming in desire and your better judgment dissipating before your eyes.

At the first sign of bliss, your muscles clenched, and the last linchpin of your resolve crumbled right along with it.

You carded your hands through Joel’s hair and grabbed hold of those locks with a full-throated moan, using his head for shameless leverage to buck and rut your hips into his face as you rode out the peaks of your high.

And, ever the gentleman, Joel fought like hell to keep his lips and tongue connected to your core while you writhed above him—this time at liberty to work his arms under your thighs and hold them since you’d given up the game. He would’ve smiled if he weren’t so narrowly preoccupied, seeing you thrash about and moan out loud and fuck his face like it was the last thing tethering you to earth. He liked seeing you come undone beneath him.

A bit too much, if he were being completely honest.

While you made the languid descent from ecstasy and your breaths were still slowing in your chest on the bed, Joel was back on his feet. Padding toward the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind him as he had before. When he returned in a minute or two, he was clothed. He fished for his keys in the pockets of his snug, stonewash Wranglers and made a face. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll be back,” he said, starting toward the door.

“Back?” You sat up, perplexed, “The hell ya goin’?”

“Out.”

This motherfucker.

“Did I miss something? Were we not just seconds away from getting down to some how’s-your-father?”

Joel visibly grimaced at your choice of sex slang. Under the circumstances, you would concede it wasn’t ideal.

“O-kay, sorry,” you returned, crossing your legs out in front of you, “I mean…don’t you want me to get you off?”

Again, Joel’s expression twisted into something just shy of overwrought, weary, and repulsed—a look that you couldn’t begin to understand, for the life of you—and you watched him flit his eyes from the bed to the door, again and again, seeming to be pining for the sweet release of leaving your shared motel room as soon as possible.

You’d been with your fair share of emotionally avoidant fucksticks, but most of them didn’t ghost until after they’d gotten their nut and felt no reason to stick around. Joel’s exit seemed premature. Strange.

“So you don’t want to fuck?” you asked, deadpan. You’d never been one for beating around the bush.

“Can’t,” Joel shook his head, bringing one hand to rest on his hip while the other fiddled uncomfortably with his car keys, “Your dad…that’s just— that’s crossing a line.”

“And being nose-deep in my cunt isn’t?”

You stared him down, incredulous.

So now he decides to claim the moral high ground, after coaxing you to soak every inch of his beard and cum all over his tongue? How very fucking charitable of him.

“That’s different,” Joel retorted, rubbing his knuckles in a nervous tic, “That was a game. I won. We’re done.”

You set your jaw just tight enough to keep your tongue in check and refrained from firing off a brash, unsavory remark. It wouldn’t do either of you a lick of good.

You let him leave. Joel had told you that you could keep the bed, he didn’t mind, and then he slipped out the door without another word. Leaving you cold and alone on the soiled, tawdry floral bedspread of Room 102, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong in the span of the last five minutes. From the center of the bed, you could see Joel’s Bronco pull off into the silent, frigid night.

You were still hungry as shit.

Rolling onto your side and rummaging through the bags at the end of the bed, you found nothing even remotely edible—save for, literally, one of Joel’s brownie edibles—and you groaned out loud. You threw your shorts back on, stepped into your old Luccheses, and did a quick circuit around the room to find your jacket before you left. As it turned out, you’d forgotten it back in Joel’s car.

You dropped to your knees and went back to tearing through luggage, searching for some suitable outerwear.

By the end of that second suitcase foray, though, you found you had nothing of your own that was hefty enough to brave the below-freezing temperatures outside, so you had to settle on a dark brown, fleece-lined coat from Joel’s bag. It was durable enough but about four sizes too big—and reeked of cigarette smoke.

You trudged outside, not really knowing where you were going or what you were hoping to find. Your stomach growled, and a few cool gusts of wind came to lap at the bare skin of your thighs where Joel’s spit was still drying.

You stepped a few feet out and turned toward the road.

Bal-ma-ceda’s, you read the seedy neon sign and heard Joel’s enunciation of the name ring between your ears.

What you wouldn’t give for the greasiest, girthiest, barely-FDA-approved 7-Eleven corndog to kill your thoughts about that sleazy little fucker right now.

You started toward the convenience store across the street but quickly found that it was closed—along with every other establishment on that stretch of road. You glanced toward the front office and caught a glimpse of your old friend dozing behind the counter. The speakers outside were playing a tinny rendition of ‘Piano Man.’

Just as you tried not to barf in your mouth at the sound and silently primed yourself for a long, long trek through the boonies to the nearest gas station, you stopped.

In a compact little breezeway that cleaved the motel in two, you saw light pool around an old vending machine.

You almost fell over yourself trying to get to it.

Never mind the fact that there were about half a dozen ragtag teens decked out in camouflage and comically tattered denim cutoffs crowding the area. All absently smoking and blowing o’s, or else sipping on cans of beer in the cramped, concrete passage, they looked bored. A couple lazy smiles broke out upon seeing your approach.

You nodded back and sidled up to the snack dispenser.

Then you zeroed in on the first sugar-packed products you could find: a pack of sour gummy worms and a bottle of Sprite—no, Mountain Dew—and a chocolate bar. Maybe a bag of Cheetos or Fritos thrown in for good measure. All of the snacks were probably stale as shit and hadn’t seen a replacement since dinosaurs roamed the earth, but you didn’t care. You were prying singles out of your wallet and salivating before you could think.

“Gotta kick it a couple times ‘fore it’ll spit anything out,” one of the boys lounging around you piped up.

You’d just inserted a couple bills and were waiting for the machine to dispense your gummy worms, when the thing appeared to stall. Stuck in its tracks, like he’d said.

You raised a brow and tapped the toe of your boot to the appliance, turning toward the one who’d addressed you,

“Like this?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” The redhead got up and strode over, where his much bigger, square-toed boot delivered a kick to the vending machine that almost toppled it.

A bag of Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers dropped out.

The kid—who actually happened to be nineteen years old and a student at some college a few states away, along with his whole group of friends—was kind enough to repeat the same ritual for all of your treats. You’d just gathered your stuff together and were about to thank him for his services, when the guy presently stuck a hand in your direction and introduced himself as Connor.

Then Blake. Then Micah. Then Wyatt. Then Trent. All traveling with their team for a tournament that weekend.

Then a beer was held out to you. You declined. A little homemade deer jerky? No, thanks. How ‘bout some Oreos? I’m good on snacks, really. Well, shit, you seem a little high-strung, why don’t you take a hit right here? And Connor pulled his dab pen out from his pocket.

Well.

You hadn’t smoked in a minute. You might’ve decided to take a bite out of Joel’s brownie back in the room, but you hadn’t known how strong it was—or where the fuck he’d gotten it. The pen this stranger was offering you was one that looked similar enough to the kinds you’d seen passed among your friends a hundred times before that you felt comfortable taking one hit, maybe. Two max.

You felt stupid as soon as you’d sucked in every breath, but you ended up taking four hits in total.

You hacked and sputtered and blinked up at Connor, who was grinning big.

“Alright, hardass,” he chuckled, taking back the device.

“Daddy know you smoke?” Wyatt cut in with a sneer.

Daddy?

There was no fucking way Joel looked that old for everyone to think he was your father. You inwardly cringed.

“Y’all been spying on us?”

“Ain’t shit else to do around here.” That was Blake.

You tried to swallow but found your throat much drier than it had been before. And not just from the weed.

“He doesn’t care,” you said, managing a shrug.

It wasn’t entirely false. Joel did give no fucks about you.

“Dude looks like a— a fuckin’ DEA agent or something,” Micah said, amused.

“Like that guy from Narcos,” Trent snickered.

You’d never seen the show and didn’t particularly care to know what law enforcement archetype Joel appeared to embody—in fact, you didn’t want to discuss him at all.

Just as the first fuzzy beads of warmth began to roll into your head, you were already planning your exit strategy. Thank Connor for his selfless assistance and cannabis, bid the group a good night and the best of luck in their upcoming lax tournament, and be done with this shit, ASAP. You were still trying to steady your tongue in the bone-dry cavern that had become your mouth when one of them kicked at a near-empty case of beer at their feet.

“We’re about out.” Micah announced.

Seconds later, Connor was turning to you.

“Wanna…restock in our room?” he asked, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile as he looked down at you.

You crinkled your nose and shook your head. Connor leaned his whole weight against the vending machine between you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, “I think you wanna come.”

“Do I?”

You only entertained the backtalk because your brain was currently swimming in a far-off, pleasant void of contentment and indifference. Every sharp edge dulled in your mind, to an extent, and your body at ease. You didn’t have to be home to anyone, anytime, and Joel was probably halfway plastered at a dive bar down the road. You didn’t move back when Connor stepped forward.

He wasn’t even that close. You could leave whenever you pleased.

“For sure. I think you’d enjoy our shitty beer and even shittier company. We can smoke some more, too.”

The man certainly had a way with words. He muscled in a bit closer.

“You think so?” you hummed.

“I do. I really do.”

“And you’re willing to risk the wrath of my dad if he finds out where I am?” You made it sound like a challenge.

“Wyatt can fight.”

Connor motioned toward his friend, who was mindlessly chomping on deer jerky in his lawn chair off to the side, glossy-eyed and hammered. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, but make sure he’s ready. I can only stay for five.”

Connor seemed wounded as he put a hand over his heart in mock dismay.

“Only five minutes?” he griped, “Why not ten? Or twenty?”

“Six.”

“Fifteen at least.”

You folded your arms over your chest and felt an opaque haze beginning to settle over your brain. It wasn’t quite a high, just a lightness of being that drove tender little streaks up your spine. Like Joel, tickling at your sides while you writhed around in the front seat of his car.

This time you took the beer Connor offered and cracked it open. He seemed pleased—and taken by surprise—to see you down the drink in spite of the overflowing foam.

“Ten,” you returned once you’d swallowed it all.

“Twenty.”

“Honey?”

The last voice didn’t belong to anyone in the group. You turned on your heels and almost coughed up your beer.

It was Joel, of course.

Standing at the threshold of the breezeway like a surly, disconcerted parent, of all things, watching you like he’d just caught you red-handed in the most horrific of acts.

Clutched in one hand was a Burger King takeout bag.

“Daddy. Hi,” you breathed.

Apparently your attempt at casual came across more slurred than anything else, because Joel stepped closer.

‘Let’s go’ was all he said. No accusations, no threats, no outward displays of emotion found anywhere on his face. Just a gruff ‘Let’s go,’ and a free hand reaching for yours.

Instinctively, you recoiled.

“We’re just talking,” you said, gesturing behind you. If you could have seen the uniform looks of discomfort and agita, damn near treading on fear, among them all, you probably wouldn’t have bothered.

“Good. Now you’re leaving,” Joel supplied in a moment.

He was blissfully indifferent. Asserting his will in a space where, less than one hour ago, he couldn’t bear to share a room with you, much less impart a shred of dignity or care to your condition. He had nerve, that was for sure.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, a touch more venom in your voice than you intended.

Joel raised both eyebrows.

“No?”

His expression, directed to you, was infuriating.

“Fuck no,” you answered.

A few of the guys behind you sucked in a breath as if to say, ‘Okaaaaay, time to go!’ but then Joel pressed,

“For someone who wants to be treated like an adult—”

“Adult?” you scoffed, “You treat me plenty like an adult, Joel. Just whenever the designation suits your needs, huh?”

No one moved.

Well, Joel flinched a bit. Then he squeezed your wrist.

Truly, you never failed to underestimate the man’s brute strength when it came to carrying you off at will—but there you were, being yanked behind the big, bad Joel Miller as he hauled you off to who-knows-where. You scowled but didn’t bother to steal a glance behind you at the beer, boys, or vending machine treats you were being forced to abandon. All you could do was stare a hole through Joel’s skull and tug back—largely ineffectually.

“You’re an ass,” you spat, digging your heels into the gravel terrain as he pulled you along.

“You’re a brat,” he fired back.

In a minute, the exterior of Room 102 was coming into view; Joel was practically toting your ass like a knapsack.

“You just abandoned me back here, Miller. You— you don’t get to pretend like you give a fuck now.”

“I was getting you Burger King, for Christ’s sake.”

Joel was fiddling with the lock now. Simultaneously juggling your hand, the paper bag, and a set of keys that didn’t seem keen on cooperating, he huffed, disgruntled.

“Even got you those—” Joel grunted, thrusting his shoulder into the door, “—fuckin’ curly fries you wanted.”

Your jaw slackened. That was supposed to make it okay?

“Joel, FUCK your curly fries!” you cried, “Are you seriously still trying to play good guy right now?”

“If that’s what you—”

“No. You don’t get to tonguefuck your friend’s daughter and buy her a goddamn Double Whopper and act like it’s all good. Sure as hell don’t get to dictate who I talk to.”

Like he had before, Joel cringed to hear your crude language—particularly as it related to what he had done to you but didn’t seem capable of owning up to just yet. You couldn’t bear another second of that look.

“Fuck this. I’m sleeping in the car,” you grumbled.

You thrashed your arm out of Joel’s hold and started off in the other direction. Picked up your pace when you heard the bag of fast food drop to the ground and Joel trotting after you. Calling your name.

Even at your most brisk, you knew you couldn’t outstrip those big, beefy legs of his. He gained on you in seconds.

So you took off running.

Joel gripped his side, thinking, ‘Aw, hell’ before breaking out in a sprint just as fast.

You were pissed at how far he’d parked this time around. You caught sight of the old Bronco perched a ways away from your room and almost opted to change course on the spot, to the front office—maybe dive behind the counter and beg that poor old woman to give you another place to stay—but you kept at it, anyway. For once, you were glad to have had Joel beat by so many years, because the man’s endurance was, evidently, shit.

“Hey, s— stop!” Joel shouted after you.

Fat chance, Miller.

You closed in on the car. Joel rarely ever locked it.

Your hand secured a grip on the door and jerked it back. It swung right open.

Just as Joel was pulling up the rear, you had the driver’s side slammed shut and your palm laid flat on the door lock knob—shoving the little black lever down each time Joel tried to unlock the car.

It was a fruitless endeavor, you knew; you couldn’t keep the man out all night so long as he had the car keys in his hands. You could piss him off some more, though.

“You won the fucking game, just take the bed!” you said, straining against the door with your weight pressed hard on that knob. Joel was furiously working to get it open.

“I mean it, Joel, I-I don’t wanna sleep in there wi— shit.”

You leapt back in your seat as Joel flung the door wide open. You scrambled across the center console, made a desperate grasp at the passenger door to climb out the other side, but your ankle was taken between two hands. Just as you tried to slink out on the opposite end of the vehicle, Joel pulled you right back in. Flipped the center console up so you were sprawled flat across the bucket seat at the front of his car and pinned underneath him.

Then he pulled you over his lap.

Not into it—nestled on top of his crotch, with your ass pointing up in the air. Joel’s big ass Carhartt jacket was bunching up around your torso, collar crowding you up to the chin. Your twisted just far enough to meet his gaze.

“What do you want from me?” Joel demanded, “What?”

You stared up at him, poring over your options in the span of what seemed like two milliseconds. Wondering, silently, why he wasn’t touching you anywhere.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel,” you replied at length.

Seated between driver’s side and shotgun, Joel looked perfectly unperturbed, raking a hand through his silver-flecked hair and letting his gaze trail up to the ceiling, as if considering something of grave importance.

“And what after that?” he asked, still staring at the roof.

Before you could reply, though, he was forging ahead,

“What happens when I can’t even look your dad in the eye knowin’ I’ve been balls deep in his little girl, and every fuckin’ time I’m over at your house or you’re over at mine, I’ll be thinkin’— no, dreamin’ of what it was like to have you wrapped around my cock, screamin’ my name and takin’ it so deep inside you like I know ya want it?”

You paused a beat. Had to bat your eyes a couple times to rid your head of those filthy thoughts he’d planted.

“We could, uh— fuck…then…too,” you ventured quietly.

Joel grinned at the spot he was watching, humorless.

“That easy, huh?” he mumbled.

Again, before you could speak, Joel continued,

“I can’t even cum with you on my mind,” he said, and for a split second you thought that might mean he wasn’t attracted to you in that way, when he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, “I’ve tried beating off twice today—in the bathroom and as soon as I left earlier—and I can’t…even get close with you here. You fuck with my head.”

You fuck with my head.

Without meaning to, your hips stirred over his, and Joel audibly groaned. At last, he dropped a palm to your ass and gave it a taut smack, and your whole lower half reverberated with the sensation—and a welt of pleasure.

“You think I want it to be like this?” Joel said, voice strained, fingers kneading over the flesh he’d just struck, “Think I enjoy havin’ the biggest set’a fuckin’ blue balls known to man whenever I’m around ya, honey?”

You winced when you were spanked again, letting out a whimper into the seat’s charcoal-colored upholstery.

“I can help with that,” you hissed, feeling him massage the spot once more. You arched your back into his touch.

“No. You’d make it worse,” Joel shook his head, “Once I get a feel inside this sweet cunt I’ll never wanna stop.”

At the soft rumble of his words, you felt yourself growing aroused. Noticeably so. Your skin broke out in broad swaths of gooseflesh every place he touched, and in the wake of those hands grew a pool of dull warmth. Sticky, slick, soak-straight-through-your-shorts sort of warmth.

Joel’s hand hovered about an inch from the source.

“We’d get bored eventually. It’d be fine,” you said, words crawling off of your parched tongue with some difficulty now. That faint, heady feeling from before had become a high, finally, and it seemed every sense you possessed was ablaze with desire. You were barely able to breathe, much less speak, but there you went, rambling anyway,

“Soon enough, you’ll get over the thrill of screwing me, and I’ll find a nice, polite, age-appropriate boy to spend the rest of my life having nice, polite sex with, and we can both pretend like this never happened. Deal?”

It was quite possibly the dumbest offer you’d ever made.

Joel slotted his hand between your legs to rub against that dampened patch of fabric. You almost jumped.

“Yeah? Just fuck around and forget about it?” Joel spoke, and you truly couldn’t tell if it was a sneer or real sincerity, as your eyes were squeezing shut, “Is that all you want from me, sugar?”

His fingers slipped beneath your shorts and made swift, easy contact with your heat. You buried your face in the seat and tried to muffle the sounds that were clawing their way out of your chest, while your hips tilted up.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered.

By now, your head was spinning, in a daze, that you almost didn’t notice him tug your shorts down your legs. Or take them off at your ankles. You did get a sense of when he was breaching your folds—taking two, meaty fingers and trailing them up the slick glaze of your cunt.

“Doesn’t seem like this pussy wants ‘nice and polite’ to me,” Joel murmured, eyes gradually fastening to that lovely, exposed spot pointed up to him. He wet his lips, “Needs somethin’ else, doesn’t she, darlin’?”

Speaking of your pussy in third-person wasn’t something you ever thought could be hot, but coming from Joel? While his fingers traced up and down the seal of your entrance, tips circling your tight, hot, throbbing hole? Arousing didn’t even begin to cover it.

You pushed your ass back, and Joel chuckled above you.

“Wanna fuck daddy’s fingers? Is that it?” he taunted.

No, no, no—you wanted his cock buried inside you. But now you just needed reprieve from that ache, and your senses were practically on the fritz trying to get it.

Your hips rocked back and forth over his fingers—sliding the two digits in and out of your cunt with each motion—and, as much as Joel would’ve liked to make you beg and wait a little, your desperate pleas as you fucked his hand were more than enough to satiate him. He worked his free arm under your body and pinched hard on one nipple, eliciting a soft moan of ‘Joel’ underneath him.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, watching you rut your hips for more friction, “That’s it, baby, fuck daddy’s fingers. Use my hand to make yourself feel good— that’s my girl.”

At the last, you probably could’ve cum on the spot, and Joel could tell by the way you clenched around him. He nudged a third finger between your plush, sensitive walls and heard your moans take on an even higher pitch.

“Hurts,” you whimpered, with no real indication of pain. You just felt stretched out, stuffed, and aching again. The only ‘hurt’ was not having even more of him in you, “Need more of you daddy, please. It hurts.”

Joel wanted to see you cum on his fingers. He really did. But when you got down to begging and pleading for his cock like that, the man’s whole heartbeat throbbed in his jeans, and he simply didn’t possess the resolve to refuse.

He hoisted you upright in his lap so you were straddling his hips. The fabric of his jacket hung loose off your frame and both of your arms as you latched around him.

“Are you high?” Joel asked, voice evening out all of a sudden to pin you with a serious look.

“Yeah.”

“How high?”

“I can consent, Joel.” Your thighs tightened around his sides, and your hips had already begun to stir.

“Not just can consent—do consent. Do you want this?” Joel’s hands moved from the small of your back to cup your face. You gave him a squished-together pout.

“Yes, I want this,” you managed through pinched cheeks. When Joel released you, you lowered your own hands to the buckle of his belt.

It felt foreign and familiar at once—this age-old ritual of fumbling for each other’s clothes and wrestling to get them off, like your bodies might catch fire if you didn’t act fast enough. Joel was a tad more graceful as he shrugged his jacket off of you, peeled your tank top off, and helped you maneuver your bare limbs around him. You, on the other hand, felt half-feral and every bit the wide-eyed novice while you stripped his body garment by garment and wordlessly told him just leave the jeans, I can’t wait another fucking second. Joel bit back a grin and had to steady you above him, feeling his cock twitch against his tummy but still slowing down enough to remind you, shhh, shhh, honey, it ain’t goin’ nowhere.

You had a tough time remembering that as you rubbed your wet centre over his shaft. Feeling so good you feared the feeling might escape any second, you whined.

“I know, baby, I know,” Joel cooed as your head fell in the crook of his neck, “Still hurtin’ somethin’ awful, hm?”

The tip of his cock just barely grazed over your clit and you buried your face even deeper, nodding furiously; Joel leaned forward to grab some item out of the glove compartment behind you and braced your body to him.

He tore something with his teeth. You craned your neck just slightly.

“Don’t laugh,” Joel muttered, voice momentarily stifled by bright, metallic wrapping.

“Is that…” You straightened up enough to cock a brow at him. Joel’s tongue rolled across the inside of his cheek.

“Cobwebs and all.”

Beneath your gaze was the flimsiest, dust-ridden, damn-near vintage condom—a decade old, at least.

“You buy that before or after the Great Depression?” you teased.

“Shut up.” Joel was already working it onto his dick.

“So Prohibition-coded.”

“I can find something to shove in that mouth, y’know.”

You were having too much fun at the old man’s expense, blissfully unaware that Joel was about one Gen X joke away from making you suck three of his arousal-soaked fingers. When you opened your mouth to speak—to try another wisecrack or else question the integrity of this ancient relic of a rubber—Joel crashed his lips against yours and made you mute with his tongue instead.

At the same time, he slowly eased himself inside you.

Your mouth fell open when you sank down on his length, fully, but no sound came out. You just gripped Joel’s shoulders and peered into his face as if to say, ‘Shit.’

No way any man was ever meant to feel this good.

No shot your walls were fitting his cock like a glove.

Joel soaked in your gaping, wordless stare with a nod.

“Good?”

“Great.”

You’d give all eight inches of the man a goddamn standing ovation if your legs weren’t feeling like jelly. Joel let out a small grunt when you clenched around him.

“Nice and…easy,” he said, as much to himself as to you. He pinched your hip in one gigantic hand and held you there, “Let ya take a second and adjust, alright, darlin’?”

“But Joel—” you whined, already trying to slide back up.

His grip kept you impaled on his dick, anchored in place. With the other hand, he brought a thumb to your clit.

“Just feel me, sweet pea,” Joel said, slow and languid as molasses while he touched you, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

You couldn’t be sure if the man was a sadist or the world’s biggest fan of cockwarming—or just polite.

The bare, slightly-less-sexy truth was that Joel hadn’t done this in a very, very long time. Even the sex he’d had, close to a year ago, was something more of a flashbang than a bona fide carnal experience; he’d just bent a perfect stranger over the bathroom sink and drilled her. This was a fever dream, a first to end all firsts, and at present, Joel felt himself toeing a razor-thin line between self-restraint and bliss by just your presence alone.

In short, he didn’t want to fuck it up by busting too soon.

When you rolled your hips and squeezed your eyes shut above him, well, Joel almost fell into a panic.

Think of golf. Differential equations. The weather in Kuwait. Anything to get his mind off of how tight your pussy was holding him in, how lithe your body worked to grind above him while he sat there, so helpless and—

“Big,” you whined, stretched to the fullest you’d ever been. Unable to bounce up and down like you wanted but still squirming for more friction, “So big, daddy.”

Hockey. Geometry. Wind patterns around the Maldives. He held you even tighter, but your motions were growing desperate. You had to start moving.

“Joel, please,” you begged him.

“Baby, I’m—”

About to cum. I am two seconds away from cumming.

“Need you now, need you so—” your voice broke off in a moan as you sank your nails into his muscly shoulders, “So bad, daddy, please, please, please—”

On the seat beside you both, your phone lit up, buzzing:

Dad 💙

Fuck.

FUCK.

Your eyes locked on Joel’s in a shared look of panic and horror, and for once, your bodies stopped, perfectly still.

You knew your dad too well. Just as much as Joel did.

Your father wasn’t the type to call late at night unless something was up. And he wouldn’t stop calling until someone picked up.

“Should we…?” That whisper came from you.

Joel was frozen in fear, eyes now glued to the screen.

“Just…give it a sec,” he breathed, “Might be nothing.”

But his tone couldn’t mask the dread behind his words. He gritted his teeth and watched the phone ring.

It stopped.

Then started again.

The pair of you clung to one other in the old Ford’s bucket seat like your dad might veritably hear the two of you having sex from 1,300 miles away if you moved.

It stopped once more.

The screen stayed black.

You let out a small sigh and felt your eyes start to close.

Then the trill of a ringtone under Joel’s ass started up the second they’d fluttered shut, and suddenly your gaze was wide, and frightened, and freaking the fuck out when you realized that your dad was trying to reach Joel.

“Answer,” you hissed.

“What?!” The whites of Joel’s eyes were bigger now than you’d ever seen them.

“He’ll know something’s up! Just—” you slipped your hand under Joel’s rear, completely devoid of any sexual insinuation this time, and yanked his old iPhone 6 out of his pants, “Answer it. Now. Be cool.”

Joel’s expression was still paralyzed with terror, but he brought the ringing phone to his ear anyway. Gingerly tapped ‘answer’ once you’d smacked him on the bicep.

“He-e-y man.”

You were so fucking dead.

Your face hovered mere inches away, and you could almost hear the warble of your father’s voice on the line.

“Great,” Joel answered, stilted as a puppet with someone’s hand up its ass, “So good. How are you?”

A beat.

“She’s good, she’s good.”

For a moment, Joel’s gaze flitted to the spot where your bodies were still connected and you saw a flash of desire, followed by guilt, then his head tip back to close his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand.

“In the bathroom…Uh-huh…Phone must be dead…”

“No, she’s been a trooper—just fine…”

“Somewhere just shy’a Bedford, I think…”

You listened to Joel drone on and clench his jaw, and every now and then you’d feel a squelch in that tiny space between you two when one of you moved, and it occurred to you then that it probably was not in your best interest to stay seated on his dick while he talked. You shifted your legs underneath yourself to get up.

When you started to slide up Joel’s shaft—the first time you’d ever really moved, mind you—you felt a knot in your tummy start to tighten. The friction was to die for.

You sank back down and heard a hoarse little cry spill out from your lips before you got the chance to swallow it.

At the same time, Joel groaned. Then stopped himself. Then coughed—profusely.

“Sorry, just got a little—” Suddenly, a fiery set of eyes were searing holes in your head, angry as they were desperate, “—tickle in my throat is all.”

You ignored the strained Southern drawl and the eyes that looked ready to put a bullet between your own, and you rocked your hips again. The sensation was just too good. Your body practically acted of its own accord, and suddenly you were bouncing up and down in Joel’s lap.

The man beneath you looked enraged. Aroused.

Ready to wring your neck and maybe spit in your mouth.

“World’s movin’ too. damn. fast,” Joel seethed, trying to communicate to you semi-covertly while you rode his cock, “She’s one hell of a— firecracker, man, I’ll tell ya.”

You heard your dad’s laughter on the other end. While the sound subsided to chuckles, Joel grabbed your neck. He covered the mouthpiece for a second, then, in a murmur,

“This is not a fucking game.”

He squeezed your throat so tight you probably could’ve lost all circulation going to your head, but you smiled.

In spite of the hot, glowing embers of pleasure taking shape at the pit of your stomach and the coil that kept twisting and swelling inside, you grinned down at him. Then you mouthed, softly, ‘Yes, it is,’ and you rocked your hips against him even harder.

Joel drew in a breath through his teeth and watched you ride him with bleary, half-hooded eyes—keeping one hand on your carotid as the other hand cradled the phone to his ear. The man was transfixed.

By the pinch of just one set of fingers, you knew you were done for. A dwindling supply of oxygen, combined with your high and the hundreds of nerve-endings being brushed by Joel’s cock every other moment, you were spiraling toward release and didn’t know how to stop it.

When Joel pursed his lips and lifted his hips to start fucking up into you, you had to let go. Couldn’t hold on. You grabbed hold of his forearm, still hovering across your throat, and you moaned as the bliss washed over you. You slid your needy lower half back and forth, squeezed that tanned, tough arm practically bulging with veins above you, and you came around Joel’s cock. You whimpered his name, again and again, feeling him stroke your walls and fuck you through a euphoric high.

The next thing you felt was the seat cushion behind you—and the shift of Joel’s body weight pinning you down.

His cock hadn’t slipped an inch when he flipped you over; his grip was still secure on the phone.

The only thing that had changed was that look: malicious and vindictive with the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Joel felt you pulse around him, starting to come down from your high, and he just decided to fuck you even harder.

“Shouldn’t be much longer now…” Joel hummed aloud, lowering a hand to your throbbing clit and muttering a soft ‘Uh-huh’ to your father while you clawed at his wrist.

“Joel,” you choked.

Now the feeling was too much. You were still so wet, raw, and sensitive that the pad of his thumb almost drew a shriek from your chest when he moved his finger in circles. You heard them chat about football. Joel shared a short, strained laugh with the man on the other end and pretended not to hear your whines as he continued to rail you senseless in the front seat of his car.

With the diversion of the phone call keeping his own climax at bay, Joel was free to fuck you as rough as he pleased—and couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again.

“Please, daddy, please,” you beseeched him, tears springing to your eyes as Joel’s thrusts kept shaking you.

He just shook his head and smiled as if to say, ‘Hold still.’

“It’ll be fine,” he said, “Mahomes is next-level. Best they can do is keep their heads down and take it, y’know?”

Your own soft, aching hole was taking the beating of a lifetime, and somehow, you managed to meet Joel’s gaze with a look that almost struck him as loving. That blissed-out, cockdrunk look of pure debauchery crossing your eyes in a way he hadn’t come to find in ages, if ever, was intoxicating. He felt the first fluttering pulses of your orgasm squeeze around him again, and suddenly he was pumping you faster, drilling you harder, gripping your throat and starting to sense his own climax draw near.

He couldn’t finish off like this.

Not talking shop and Super Bowl to your father—no.

Joel had to do something you might rightly hate him for for the rest of your life, and never forget, or forgive.

He lowered the phone, and right before he did, said,

“She just stepped outta the bathroom, actually. No, yeah, she’s right here. Wanna say hello?”

Your heart skipped a beat and nearly jumped into your throat. You tried to shake your head—fast—and even went so far as to try and dodge the phone when Joel brought it down to your ear, but that motherfucker had a grip like you couldn’t believe and wouldn’t stop stroking inside you or holding you down. You hated that you found Joel’s total dominance and control…kind of hot.

You flashed him the most nasty, bratty, ‘I’ll get you for this, Joel’ look you could muster anyway, and when he pressed the phone to your cheek, you mouthed a few more silent expletives before changing your air entirely:

“Hey, dad!”

Joel knew he was cooked from the second you said hello. Something objectively malevolent inside him got a rush to hear you speak to your dad in such a contrived, high-pitched tone of voice, knowing the unspeakable things he was doing to your body the whole fucking time. He could focus, now, with no need for any strained civilities of his own, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last long. He would not last long.

Might as well make it fun while it lasts.

“He…did,” you hummed, flitting your eyes up to Joel when he brushed your lower lip with his thumb—still holding the phone up for you while he rutted into you, “No, nuh-uh…Mr…Mr. Miller didn’t mind, no sir.”

Shit, the sound of you saying ‘sir’ was something that made Joel’s whole body lurch with pleasure. He made a mental note to have you call him that later and stroked your lip once more.

You tried to turn your face away—telling Joel, wordlessly, that you couldn’t keep up this conversation with your father if you had a thumb in your fucking mouth, but Joel didn’t care. He watched you pause for a moment, let just the tip of his finger press into your tongue, then, battling your better judgment, wrap your lips around the digit almost cautiously and suck. He knew you liked it, too.

He knew it by the way you bobbed your head, hummed, and nodded every time he thrust inside your aching walls and dragged his cock back out. The way your teeth clamped hard on his thumb whenever he grazed a particularly sensitive spot and how your lips held him in like a gag, or some other thing to keep you quiet amidst the moans and the whimpers bubbling up in your chest.

Suddenly, Joel was at your other ear, lips grazing skin and tongue praising your every move.

“My sweet girl.”

“Doin’ such a good job stayin’ quiet.”

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

From that point on, every single one of your father’s words over the phone fell on deaf ears—all you could hear was Joel. All you could feel was Joel. Your lips parted as if starting to speak, but all that would come out were small puffs of air, perfectly in sync with each one of Joel’s thrusts.

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad pressed. A hint of concern rose from his end of the line.

At length, Joel gripped both of your legs and brought them up over his shoulders, and he grinned before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelped as you crushed the phone to your ear, hoping your father couldn’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

The sick, smug fuck currently wedged eight inches deep inside you almost burst out laughing. If you weren’t so perilously close to your fourth orgasm of the night, you would’ve told Joel to take a long walk off a short bridge.

“Just worried about grades a-a-and all,” you stammered.

Joel leaned forward and almost tore a scream out of your chest—his tip was kissing the edge of your cervix now.

“Yes, sir. I will.” You tried your hardest not to whine and almost let out a sigh, “I’ll…ask him about it, for sure.”

As bone-crushingly fun as this all was, Joel was close.

He could feel it in the furthest recesses of his stomach; he was about to blow his load.

So, leveraging his weight to strike just the right angle and pushing his thumb in to stifle your moans, Joel sped up and drew even closer, face-to-face, so he could see your every expression from a hair’s breadth away.

He was so near he could hear your dad’s droning voice. See you struggle to take cock the closer you got to your release. You hadn’t cum in such quick succession…ever, really. All but one of the guys you’d let between your legs before seemed like amateurs compared to Joel, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if you could make it to four.

You popped his thumb out of your mouth and mumbled some ‘Sure, okay’ or other to your dad before casting a pleading look up at Joel. His hips were working up to a ruthless pace.

You covered the mouthpiece.

“I can’t, Joel.”

“Sure you can, sugar.”

“Joel,” you hissed, and tried to grab his wrist, when you felt your stomach start to cave. Every exposed inch of skin gave way to waves of heat, and your toes curled in. Worst of all, Joel was letting out sounds you hadn’t ever heard—short, ragged breaths that broke off in low groans—and it felt as though he were cradling your head. Holding you to him. Your eyes were locked on one another, your mouths practically panting in time, and what parts of you had not yet become commingled with him were practically coated with sweat. And shaking.

Then, in tones that rang like music to your ears:

“Alright, I’ll let ya head to bed, then. G’night, pumpkin.”

Your dad hadn’t even fully hung up the phone before you flung it across the car. Heels dug deep in Joel’s back.

“Cum for daddy,” Joel coaxed, “Cum all over this cock.”

You didn’t need much more instigation than that.

You came. He followed.

And it probably split his eardrum in two having his name screamed so fucking loud, but frankly, Joel hadn’t seen a reason for going deaf that he could’ve enjoyed so much.

Then, he didn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adored his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car.

Until it was in you.

Sticky, sweet dripping inside you.

You pushed Joel hard in the shoulder.

“Did it…”

“What?”

“Joel!”

You flipped your legs down and tapped his abdomen furiously, telling him, pull out, pull out right fucking now, and Joel gently obliged. Dragged his cock three-fourths of the way out when a frail, tattered condom came loose around the head of his cock and almost fell off entirely. That damn prehistoric rubber had broken inside you.

“JOEL!”

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I— fuck.”

Joel scrambled to get his cum-drenched cock and what remained of the condom away from your body, but the damage was done. You started throwing on clothes.

“I’m ovulating this week, I am so fucking fucked!”

Joel swallowed, shimmying his boxers and jeans back into place and scoping the front seat for his shirt.

“What’s…ovulating?”

You wanted to tear your hair out at the root.

There was no way this man had survived half a century on earth and didn’t understand the menstrual cycle.

“It means I can get pregnant if we don’t get a Plan B up in this bitch immediately. Let’s GO!”

That part seemed to click. Joel almost fell over himself trying to find his keys, while you slid out of the Bronco.

“Where are you going?!”

“To— to try and get some of this shit out of me first!”

Joel bounded after you, and within the first steps, you were sprinting across the parking lot. Your sweaty, half-naked companion tried—and failed—to slow you down.

“Are you not on birth control?” Joel huffed.

“Are you not capable of buying condoms more than once every fucking decade—or three?” you snapped.

Your strides were growing wider and more frantic by the second. Joel clutched his side and struggled to keep up.

“I’m…sorry,” he grunted, more embarrassed and worn-out than anything at the moment, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t get your cum out of me, daddy.”

Your words couldn’t have gotten any more caustic or merciless—or inopportune—if you tried.

As it was, you were passing by the breezeway where all the bored lacrosse players were still lounging around, cracking cold ones, and craning their necks to see what the fuss outside was all about. The sounds of your feet racing fast on gravel and you and Joel’s raucous, bickering back-and-forth had caught their attention, and shortly, Connor was sticking his head around the corner. His expression—along with all the faces behind him—had twisted with horror. Confusion. A visible look of disgust.

Joel had just slowed down to catch his breath. He doubled over and braced both hands on his knees.

“I’ll fuckin’…duct tape my dick next time I hit it, honey!” he wheezed, barely loud enough for you to hear but perfectly audible to all the terrified guys around him.

Joel turned his head and almost groaned.

Then he was straightening himself back up, starting to retreat from the group who had him pinned with genuinely frightened—and nauseated—looks.

Joel normally wouldn’t care. This time, though, he threw his hands up and thought, fuck it, I’ll clear the air.

Over his shoulder, he grinned, yelling back to the guys:

“I’m not actually her dad!”

All of them stared back. Half-jealous, half-awestruck, Connor stood up, raised his beer, and called after him:

“I SURE FUCKIN’ HOPE YOU’RE NOT!”

[propertyofwicked]

FIRST - LN

lando discovers his bestfriends little sister is a virgin, and will stop at no lengths to change that (and ruin her for anyone else)

warnings: smut!! MDNI!! virgin reader, fewtrell!sister, mostly soft smut with a small innocence kink

✧ it's officially assignment szn and ur girl is STRESSED. my posts wont be as frequent for a while but i am currently creating a backlog of things to post! ✧

masterlist the playlist

“ok, y/n - truth or dare?” ria asked the girl from across the circle they sat in on the floor of max’s living room.

being so close in age to her older brother, y/n fewtrell fit in well with his friendship group, often preferring to hang out with them over her own friends. a few others were dotted around the house, P and a couple girls using the kitchen. they were all due to head to a club soon, only using max’s house to pre drink as he lived closest.

“truth,” she responded, giggling slightly as the alcohol began to turn her tipsy - not drunk, just jolly she had told max when he last checked on her.

“where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” ria asked, giggling to herself at the rest of the group laughed, turning to face y/n for her answer. she went silent, heat rising her face gradually. her eyes scanned the group, everyone staring expectantly at her - only max avoided her gaze, looking at his phone to queue songs to the playlist.

“i- uh, well i guess i…haven’t?” she replied, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed - she was 19, almost 20, and it seemed that everyone around her was coupled up, or at least active in that department. and, it hadn’t been through lack of trying, every man she had almost been with had found out and used it to get to who she was related to - and subsequently, lando - or gave her the ick before they got the chance to.

“what do you mean you haven’t?!” niran had laughed out, he hadn’t meant to laugh, he just couldn’t believe it.

“i ju-”

“ok can we stop quizzing my little sister on her sex life? please,” max interrupted, y/n sighing out a breath of relief when they finally moved to the next person. her eyes scouted across the group of people, glad to see them all distracted and no longer giving her the sympathy eyes over her pathetic excuse of a love life.

in her embarrassment, however, y/n missed the way lando’s eyes had darted to look at her when she had answered, missing the way they darkened slightly at the revelation. he shook the thoughts plaguing his mind away, focusing on keeping his face neutral as he watched the blush rising her cheeks.

she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her as she snuck out the room, however. she’d hope no one would notice her sneaking into the kitchen, smiling at P before swiping a bottle of something and heading to the garden, legs landing gracefully to sit on a step.

this was not the first time she had dwelled on this, but this time, she could at least comfort the blow of her overactive brain by drinking - or so she thought. as not a moment after she’d removed the cap, the bottle was being snatched from her hands and closely inspected by a man towering above her crouched body.

“this smells like ass, y/n - are you sure you wanna drink it?” lando asked her, lowering himself to sit on the step next to her. the sky was darkening, stars filling the vast blackness.

“yes im sure, thanks dad,” she mocked him, arms reaching over to snatch the bottle from him, but once again, he moved his arm out, stretching the bottle further from her reach.

“nuh uh!” lando said, shaking his head, “only when you tell me why you intend on drinking what im sure is the finest bottle of… £3.99 vodka - jesus, £3.99?”

“sorry mister ‘owns-2-mclarens-and-a-lambo’,” she replied, leaning further into his side in a desperate bid to get the bottle back - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to drink it anymore, she just wanted something to fiddle with when lando eventually forced her to talk to him.

“didn’t answer my question, darlin’” he told her, placing the bottle besides him as he removed one of his threaded bracelets, placing it in her exposed palm.

oh he knew her a little too well.

“i jus- no it’s so stupid,” she conceded, the bracelet twisting around her fingers. she stared directly at it, refusing to meet lando’s intense gaze.

“bet it’s not,” he told her, moving an arm to wrap around her when he felt the chill air brush his own skin.

“you know what’s worse than having to announce to your friends that you’re a lonely little virgin that no one wants? being the lonely little virgin. it’s so fucking embarrassing - i’m 19, hell i’m nearly 20 and when everyone around you has someone in their life, it’s so hard not to feel so behind in your own life, to feel completely unlovable, to constantly feel like there’s something wrong with you,” she breathed out, still refusing to make eye contact with the man besides her.

lando took in a deep breath, choosing his next words so carefully. his hand reached up to her chin, turning her face to look up at his.

“y/n, you are not unlovable, you’re not falling behind in life and there is certainly nothing wrong with you,” he told her, his tone harsh in attempt to knock some sense into her. she shook her head at him in disbelief, his hand dropping back to his side.

“see, i really want to believe you but the evidence isn’t really stacking up in support of your argument. if that was true, i probably wouldn’t be sat in my brother’s back garden throwing myself a pity party.”

“i think your brother might’ve had a part to play in this, if im honest y/n,” lando said, slipping up slightly. she paused at his words, before her head shot round to look at him again.

“what? what do you mean max has something do with the fact no one wants me?”

“it’s not that no one wants you, y/n,” he sighed at her again before giving in, realising he’d already said too much to stop now, “it’s just that max has a bad habit of… threatening anyone who even mentions you in that way?” he added, his tone making it sound like he wasn’t even sure himself.

“threatening them?” she repeated, anger beginning to bubble up in her stomach.

“he’s only actually hit 2 of them - hell even ive had a close call with his fist a few times,” lando laughed, before realising what he’d indirectly admitted to. luckily, neither of them had time to dwell on it before the man in question popped his head round the door.

“what are you two losers doing out here?” he joked, before sensing some tension being thrown his way, “whatever, we’re leaving in a minute if you wanna get ready?”

“no thanks,” y/n told him, pushing herself up and beginning to walk past him.

“huh?” max replied, confused.

“i said, no thanks. wouldn’t wanna risk you punching anyone who shows the slightest interest in me,” she added, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. she turned quickly on her heel, walking off, ignoring the group as she trailed up to the spare bedroom.

the two boys shared a look between them, lando’s face holding that of apology whilst max’s was gradually moving to infuriated.

“what did you tell her?” max asked him, jaw clenching slightly.

“i didn’t mean to,” lando replied, throwing his arms out slightly as he stood up, “i just thought she ought to know that the reason boys don’t go for her is not because she is completely unlovable.”

“she said that?” max asked, startled slightly at the comment, “she thought she was unlovable?”

lando said nothing, throwing a simple nod at him before brushing past him and making his way to the front door.

y/n laid in her bed, her mind racing through the conversation with lando, like a record on repeat. she’d heard the rest of them leave the house almost an hour ago, leaving her to lay with her own thoughts once more.

there was nothing wrong with her, max just threatened anyone who came too close to her.

max had punched 2 guys who had tried to get with her.

max had tried to punch lando - wait, why had he tried to punch lando?

the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting again drew her from her thoughts, a natural panic spreading through her veins.

“hello?” she called out, confused as to who could be walking in the house right now. there was no response for a moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silence.

“it’s just me, baby,” a voice called out, the childhood nickname letting her know it was lando approaching her bedroom. the name used to be max and lando’s attempt to tease the girl, calling her a baby when she cried after dropping her ice cream. that was when she was 7, but 13 years later, the nickname still stuck. somewhere along the line, the name had turned from mimicking to a term of endearment, blurring the lines of their friendship every time he called out to her.

“oh thank god, i thought you were a murderer,” she joked, her breathing easing as his head poked around the door, eyes meeting hers.

“you thought i was a murderer and chose to shout ‘hello’? brave, or stupid?” lando joked back.

“never let them know your next move,” y/n replied with a shrug, before noticing the way one of lando’s hands remained hidden behind the door, “whatcha got there?” she asked him, the way one would ask a dog who had something they shouldn’t.

“depends, are you gonna be nice to me?” he shot back.

“me? im always nice to you, lan,” an innocent smile built on her face.

“tell that to the scar on my back.”

“tell the scar on your back to get over it, it was 10 years ago,” she snorted as he moved further into the door frame.

“no ice cream for you then,” lando replied, smirking at her as he shrugged.

“you got ice cream?” she asked, eyes widening at him.

“thought you might wanna watch a film and forget about tonight with a flurry.”

“gimme,” y/n said, making grabby hands that would’ve been embarrassing had she not already had the worst night of her life.

“nuh uh, not until you’re nice to m-”

“oh get over here you drama queen,” she groaned at him, patting the spot next to her on the bed. lando would never say no to her, giving in so easily as he climbed under the blanket, an arm falling naturally behind her head as he did.

he began fiddling with the tv remote, scrolling through netflix for something to watch. y/n leant further into his embrace, her head settling lightly on his chest as she looked up at him.

“lan - why didn’t you stay at the club?” she asked quietly, fighting the urge to fiddle with her fingers, nervous at the thought of insinuating that he’d want to spend his evening with her instead.

“clubs are only good when you’re drunk,” lando replied with a shrug, eyes still focused on the tv, “id rather just be the designated driver and still be able to get up for training in the morning.”

his eyes flitted down at her quickly, glad she’d returned her gaze to the screen as if he’d seen her wide eyes staring up at him, lando doubted he’d be able to control himself. what she’d revealed earlier still flew around his brain as he fought desperately to shake away any thoughts of taking her innocence, ruining her for anyone else. god, he felt like a creep.

the two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them appearing to focus on the film playing in front of them. lando’s hand remained tightly around her waist, his hand moving beneath her shirt slightly for his fingers to trace circles into her skin. her head remained on his chest, each breath taking in the lingering smell of his aftershave.

“lan?” she broke the silence again, looking up at him once again.

“yes, baby?” he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.

“what did you mean earlier when you said max had even tried to punch you?”

his head shot down to look at her, feeling himself crumble slightly as her eyes stared widely up at him, her tired voice drawing him further into the trap. he could lie, tell her it was a misunderstanding. or he could tell her the truth, and pray it didn’t destroy his entire friendship with the fewtrell siblings.

“when you told me i wasn’t unlovable earlier, you really meant…” she asked, filling in for his silence. she trailed off at the end of her sentence, unwilling to get her hopes up.

“yeah.. so about that,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. she hit at his chest lightly, pushing herself to sit up and look at his face clearer than ever.

“how long?” she asked him with unwavering eye contact.

“longer than i want to admit,” lando replied, smiling at her awkwardly, “and i understand if you don’t fe-”

“kiss me.”

“wha-”

“you heard me,” she told him before joining their lips apprehensively. it started off slow, both testing the waters before falling into a steady pace. his tongue swiped her bottom lip softly, deepening the kiss as his hand raised to hold her jaw. she stifled a moan, embarrassed at the way her body was reacting to the slightest touch.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he told her, hands dropping to her waist, “come ‘ere.”

lando’s hands settled on her hips, fingers gripping at them slightly to guide her onto his lap. as she settled into the new position, he kissed her again, gentle in the way he pulled her in closer, his free hand disappearing under her shirt to draw circles into her skin once more. her hips instinctively rolled into his at the feeling, and he gripped at her skin harder, a small groan escaping his mouth.

“fuck, keep that up and i won’t be able to stop,” he warned her as she rolled her hips again. his head dropped to her jaw, pressing soft kisses along the skin.

“what if i don’t want this to stop?” she asked him, causing him to pause, looking up at her softly.

“are you sure?” he asking, checking her face for any sign of hesitancy. she nodded at him before speaking.

“there’s no one i trust more.”

with her reassurance, lando flipped the top of them over, trailing kisses down her neck as he hovered above her.

“we’ll go slow,” he told her as he pulled at her t-shirt, tugging the fabric up her torso, “wanted this for so long. gonna take my time with you,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her stomach. her back arched into him slightly, helping him remove her top fully. y/n felt exposed, more so than usual. had it not been for lando’s large hands snaking up to grab at her breasts, she would’ve used her own to shield her nudity.

“so gorgeous,” he mumbled again, before dipping his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking at it, his fingers tugged at the other. he pushed himself back up, re joining their lips in a sweet kiss.

“gonna make you feel good, alright?” he asked her, watching the way her head nodded at him, “yeah? need you to use your words from now on baby.”

“think you should take your top off now,” she told him, her confidence returning slightly, “seems a bit unfair,” she added, jokingly pointing at her own exposed chest.

“so it is,” he agreed, sitting back on his knees as his hands gripped the bottom of his own t-shirt, lifting it over his head. the material landed on the floor, but y/n couldn’t care less - she was much more focused on the way his muscles looked, a combination of his tan and the soft fairy lights illuminating his features in a way that had her stomach rolling for him.

“oi! my eyes are up here,” he joked, settling himself between her legs. lando’s hands trailed up the exposed skin of her thighs, dragging his fingers slowly. her hips jutted up slightly at the sensation, a satisfied smirking fighting its way onto lando’s face.

“this ok?” he asked her, hands toying with the waistband of her shorts.

“yeah,” she breathed out, anticipation beginning to get the better of her as he began pulling the material away from her heat.

“tell me to stop and i’ll stop,” lando told her, discarding her shorts with his top, before adjusting his gaze to her, “just relax f’me. breathe,” he added, noticing the way her chest had frozen, breath caught in her throat. a finger ran through her folds softly, her hips rolling slightly at the sudden feeling of his rough finger pad circling her clit. his movements stopped for a moment as he moved back up her body, kissing her softly as he gathered her slick along his fingers.

“so wet for me,” he told her, kissing at her jaw, “gonna get you ready for me, ok?”

“please, lan,” she begged, panting slightly as his fingers circled her heat again, pressing into her slightly. it’s not like she hadn’t done this before on herself, which was potentially her downfall the moment he pressed a finger into her, the stretch unexpected. lando’s face pressed into her neck, kissing a trail along the skin as he pumped his finger a few times. he could hear every noise she made for him so clearly, drawing him to push a second finger into her, feeling the way her walls clamped around him.

“im ready, lan, please just fuck me,” she begged him, panting in between her words. he could’ve passed out her words, blood rushing from his brain and straight to his cock. his body pushed back up, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothes. her hands halted him as they reached out and grabbed at the waist band of his joggers, pulling them down slowly as the pressure of his cock strained against the tight material. he helped her remove them fully, her spare hand adding difficulty as she palmed him through his boxers.

“fuck, angel,” he groaned, careful not to overwhelm her as she pulled at his boxers, tugging them down as she had his joggers. however they soon established his noises were not as overwhelming as the size of his cock - her eyes widening as she came face to face with it, her finger running down the thick vein that travelled his length.

“like what you see?” he joked in attempt to ease her nerves.

“how-? is that gonna fit?” she stuttered, gaze travelling down to her stomach as if she were trying to size herself up.

“im sure we’ll make it work,” he replied, hand reaching to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, “remember, we can stop whenever.”

she nodded at him, before reaching up, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. he used the leverage to lay her back down, hovering over her once again as he rested on his forearm. without breaking the kiss, he reached down, guiding his cock through her folds a few times before settling the tip at her entrance.

“you sure?” lando checked again, searching her face for any last minute apprehension.

“are you sure?” she retorted, her smile illuminated by the moons glow, “can’t imagine fucking a virgin is high on your bucket list.”

“you’d be surprised,” he responded, mumbling slightly, his cock throbbed in his hand. he began lowering his hips, pushing into her slowly, low grunts falling from his lips as he disappeared further inside her.

“breathe baby, breathe for me,” he told her, feeling the way her body had tensed, her chest stilling as she inhaled deeply, “feel so good.”

lando waited a moment, watching the way her face softened, his necklace dangling dangerously around her lips. he started moving at a gentle pace, careful to listen to her responses.

“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his.

“yeah? ‘my the first person to make you feel good?” he asked, baiting her slightly.

“yes, fuck lan. only you.”

he close to lost it, his brain short circuiting at her words. he began to move faster in her, relishing in the way she moaned his name, her walls contracting around his cock. his hand reached between the two of them, fingers flicking at her clit before drawing pressured circles around her heat.

“faster, lan, please,” y/n begged him, her hand raising to tug at his curls.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers at a brutal pace, his eyes focused on the way her breasts moved in unison with his thrusts.

lando felt his high coming quicker than he could ever remember, feeling the way her grip on his bicep tightened and her breathing became more sporadic letting him know she was close too.

“you wanna cum with me?” he asked her, his tone soft whilst his pace remained rough, his fingers beginning to trace his own name on her clit. it gave him a sense of ownership over her, an invisible trace of him that would linger on her sensitivity forever - and she loved it, whining at the feeling of his skin on hers.

“please, fuck. wanna cum,” she told him, eyes shutting as her head rolled back. lando’s head dropped to her exposed neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before he titled his head further, mouth landing on the flesh of her breast. he’d quickly realised that leaving visible mark on his best friends little sister was potentially not the smartest idea, choosing to nip at the skin of her tit, mouth sucking the flesh into his lips as he did. his raised himself up again, admiring the way blood ran to the surface of her skin, only imagining the way she’d look when a bruise formed on the spot.

“only me?” he asked her, hand moving to grip her jaw, dark eyes locking with hers.

“only you,” she replied in a breathless moan.

“good girl,” he said, feeling the way her hips rolled up into his, heat running through her entire body as her climax washed over her. y/n shook around him lightly, her stomach spasming as she rode out her high, but lando couldn’t stop and admire the view. he pulled out quickly, feeling his own high rising in his cock, both of their eyes glued on the way his cock shot out ropes of cum that landed on her stomach.

“so….” she started, trying to fill the somewhat awkward tension in the room.

“we are so doing that again,” he said with a chuckle and he moved to locate his joggers on the floor.

“oh absolutely,” she replied, laughing with him as the fear of him leaving her washed away, though her eyebrow quirked up at him as he shuffled to the door.

“just grabbing a cloth. gotta get you cleaned up so we can finish the film,” he added with a smile.

minutes later, they were both sat back in the bed, her legs thrown over his lap as one hand grazed the skin of his back lightly, lando’s hand running up and down her thigh in a similar fashion. they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that eventually they would need to discuss the future of this, the future of them, but for now lando relished in the way her hand continuously stroked at the same spot on his back. the same spot - he internally questioned.

“watcha doing?” he finally asked, curious to her supposed fixation on his left shoulder blade.

“apologising to the scar on your back?” she retorted, circling back to their earlier conversation.

“never apologise for anything ever again,” he mumbled into her hair, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“what if i murdered your entire family?” she piped up.

“i support women’s rights and their wrongs.”

“preach.”

-

✧ inbox/requests are open ✧

[gojorgeous]

"business or pleasure?"

pairing: gojo x fem!reader summary: the gojo clan decides it’s time to secure an heir… and you’re the lucky woman selected for the job… content: HEAVY breeding, arranged marriage, language, praise, dacryphilia, p->v, fingering, mating press, a lil’ blood (if you squint), pet names, implied multiple rounds, gojo just generally being a menace, no established relationship, reader and gojo literally just met, reader is literally there for the purpose of getting pregnant, positive pregnancy test at the end, ideas of women as baby incubators :x, consent king gojo. wc: 3.7k a/n: I HAVE RETURNED!!! Hey!!!!!! Long time no see, babes. I was looking at my account and I haven’t posted a fic in *cough* TWO YEARS. There is simply no way that’s real 😭 Anyway, I’ve returned with something slightly different: A Gojo fic. You’re welcome. Mwah. Also, please send messages I miss y'all. happy new year bbs. and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

It’s only your third time in Japan. The first had been to visit family friends when you were eight, the second for a girls’ trip after you graduated college. You liked it. Tokyo was bright and busy and full of shops and things to do. The countryside always offered beauty and peace. But this third time was different. No shopping, no temples, no amusement parks. You were here for business, not pleasure. 

You run a finger along the edge of a mahogany bookshelf. Your feet are killing you, a flick of your ankles tossing your heels across the room. Your nose wrinkles when you land on a particular title. The Art of War? Interesting choice… You scan the other books, and your brows rise when you find a strange combination of academics, young adult, manga, and high fantasy? A multi-genre reader, then…

You absentmindedly rub at the arch of your foot, pushing out the ache as best you can. A day so full of stress has left you weary. Your mother hadn’t stopped hovering until the moment you’d escaped into your car, a new husband on your arm. 

You sigh. You could still hear the shower running along with said husband humming loudly to a tune you didn’t recognize. At least your groom wasn’t shy. 

A glance toward the bed has your brows raising. Were those… squishmallows? One looked like a shark, the other like a… sushi? You press your lips together, avoiding a laugh he would surely hear. You make your way to the mattress, sighing when you finally get to sit. You pull the sushi into your arms, hugging the pillow to your chest, but it no longer seemed so funny anymore. You had bigger things to think about. Your legs press together in a mix of anticipation and anxiety. All the way from America you’d come to marry the Gojo heir. It had been a rushed arrangement. Apparently, the Gojo clan had finally put their foot down and decided their heir should finally get to the business of making another heir. There’d been a search far and wide for the best match and somehow, they’d settled on you. An accomplished sorcerer yourself and abilities in your blood that only strengthened those of the Gojo line, you’d been an suitable pick. It didn’t hurt that you were young, healthy, and (upon a trip to a renowned fertility clinic) proven to be very fertile. 

Your parents had been oh-so eager to accept the Gojo clan’s proposition. The Gojo heir’s power hadn’t been matched in nearly 400 years. Any and every family would jump at the opportunity to be tied to them, especially through marriage and heirs. You were surprised you’d been chosen considering all of the options there must have been. 

Satoru seemed… fine, you thought. You hadn’t had much time to talk with him privately. The first time you’d met had been on a phone call with both of your sets of parents present and the next had been at the altar. At one point in the night he’d asked a waiter to refill your wine glass and he’d been a rather good dancer. Other than that, you’d been pulled apart at all odds and ends until you’d come back here: his apartment. 

You’d expected something a little more lavish for your wedding night, especially considering the spectacle that your wedding had been. Ice sculptures, thousand dollar bouquets, and diamond encrusted wedding rings had turned to an elegantly decorated bachelor pad. A glance around revealed a space that was obviously lived in, with odd mixes of $10,000 dollar chairs and… squishmallows.

You sink onto the edge of the bed, eyes peeling over the half-moons of your nails and the heavy gems that now sit on the fourth finger of your left hand. They are a weight you feel the pressure of. A pressure to live up to expectations, to produce a much-desired product. 

A door opens down the hall and you realize the pounding of water and the lilting of a hum has ceased. Your husband is done with his shower. 

A few seconds later he reveals himself, prancing down the hallway and into his bedroom like it’s just another Tuesday and not his wedding night. A plush blue towel is slung low around his waist and from the rivulets of water running all over his body you judge that he hadn’t even taken the time to properly dry off. Not that you mind.

You’d known your new husband was beautiful but you’d never imagined he’d be so… so goddamn seductive. 

Washboard abs, toned arms, sculpted back, wet hair and icy eyes… he was the image of a god. 

“Sorry for making you wait. I really needed that.” 

Gojo prods at his temples, eyes squished shut in what looked like a moment of pain. You’d heard of this problem from the clan. He hadn’t worn his blindfold all day for the sake of the wedding. It was no wonder the effects were catching up with him. 

“No problem.” 

A small smile reveals just a few blinding teeth and you could swear your vision went out for just a moment. 

“You hungry?” 

You arch a brow. The man had eaten two full plates and practically half the cake not yet an hour ago. 

“Can’t say that I am.” 

“Hm.” 

He nods and you watch as he plucks a stray candy off his bedside table, tossing the wrapper to the floor. 

“So, uh-” You watch the butterscotch bulge in his cheek. “You really wanna do this?” 

You glance at your half-naked husband who is practically a walking temptation. You take a breath. He’s standing so casually, as if this is a normal conversation to be having and not something life-altering.

“You don’t?” you ask.

All that gets you is a shit-eating grin. 

“Never said that.” 

You can’t help the smirk that crawls across your lips. 

“Well, we might as well get it over with, no?” 

Another flash of pearly whites. 

“Get it over with, hm?” 

You miss his meaning, pulling at a loose thread on the bedspread. 

“It shouldn’t take much effort. I’m on so many fertility meds you could probably spit on me and I’d get pregnant.” 

You pick at the thread a little more, biting your lip when you realize it’s one of those strands that’s infinite. 

“That so?” 

You jolt when a speck of wetness lands on your cheek. A quick glance reveals a fuzzy blue towel far too close for comfort. A half-naked Gojo is a whole lot closer than he’d been just seconds ago. How is he so quiet? 

Blue eyes bore into yours, water dripping down white strands and onto your skin. He’s so damn tall. He has your neck craned all the way back just to meet his gaze. 

“Yes.” You swallow. “It was part of our prenup.”

Dazed. You’re absolutely dazed. 

“Well, we probably shouldn’t risk breaking a legally binding contract, hm?” 

Closer. He’s coming closer. Too close. 

You lean back, scooting yourself up the bed in a feeble attempt to get a little more space, your emotional support sushi tumbling to the floor. He follows right after you. 

Something primal thrusts through your veins at the sight of a man, sopping wet and smirking, crawling after you, some mix of teasing and pure drive hidden in his eyes. Gojo doesn’t stop, not until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard and his arms cage your waist. Close. Too close. 

You’d thought he would have dried a bit by now, but water still slicks off his skin and hair, showering you lightly. You shiver and your husband notices. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and you get a breath of the sweetness of butterscotch and mint toothpaste. 

“You say stop,” he breathes, “and we stop.”

He leans closer, so close you can smell the eucalyptus and myrrh of his shampoo, the musk of his body wash, the candied sweetness of his breath. Those piercing blue eyes flit to your lips and back up again. 

A breath, a pause. 

“Stop?” he asks. His eyes are piercing.

You shake your head. 

“Go.” 

Lips, teeth, tongue. All of it hits you at once. For a moment you’re too shocked to respond, but then his weight is leaning on you and his hand is on your waist and his mouth tastes like candy and- and then you’re kissing him back. 

A heavy hand digs into the flesh of your waist and your hands find a patch of damp white hair to tangle in. 

He tastes good- too good and when a deft hand guides you down to the mattress you start to think that this whole baby-making business might not be so bad after all. 

Teeth knock, tongues touch, and you are on the edge of what would have been a particularly throaty moan when he pulls away. 

His attention shifts elsewhere, kisses trailing down your neck and hands straying to your hips.

“Have you-” a kiss to your collarbone. “Done this before?”

You freeze.

“What?” 

Gojo raises his head a bit and the most irritating kind of smirk plays on his lips. 

“Don’t know- thought maybe this was a virgin for your super rich husband kinda thing?” 

You shove his head back down.

“Shut up.”

He chuckles and the sound vibrates against your skin. 

“Okay, sp no need to go slow then…” 

His lips continue their assault, brushing and grazing over your skin until it lifts with goosebumps. Your breaths come a little faster, a little heavier and you gasp when his hand curls beneath the hem of your skirt.

“Oh? What’s this?” His fingers brush against the garter that rests at the top of your thighs. Your cheeks heat. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had you agreed to wear the damn thing? You reach down, hoping to quickly rid yourself of the scrap of fabric before you can become oven more mortified. You’re just about to clamp down on it when Gojo catches your wrist. “Ah, ah. No need to be so hasty.” Your hand is easily pinned down to the mattress and, for some reason, you don’t fight it. 

Your breath catches when your skirt lifts only for Gojo to dive beneath it without a second thought. You feel his teeth grazing across the skin of your thigh. 

“Gojo-” you breathe, squirming. 

His head reappears suddenly, another one of those mischievous grins gracing his lips. “Satoru when I’m about to be inside you, baby.” 

He disappears again and you gasp and wiggle when you feel his tongue laving across the inside of your thigh. 

His teeth graze you again, but this time they clamp down on the garter and you feel it slowly sliding across your skin, down, down, past your knee and eventually to your ankle where Satoru finally yanks it past your foot with a final tug. 

You stare at him, wide eyed and lustful. That had to have been one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. 

Satoru plucks the garter from his teeth and dangles it in front of his eyes. It’s a white, lacy little thing that matches the shade of his hair. He’s grinning again when he slides it onto his wrist like a bracelet– no, like a trophy.

“Thanks for the present.” He’s still grinning, still staring, his fingers still fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “How attached are you to this dress?” he asks. 

You blink, swallowing nervously, unable to break away from his gaze. It’s too strong, too mesmerizing. “Not… attached at all,” you manage. It’s true. Somebody else picked it out, and you’ve only been wearing it for about an hour– and it’s not like you can’t just buy a new one now with access to the Gojo bank accounts. 

His grin somehow grows even wider. “Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.” 

There’s a splitting sound and suddenly your dress is tearing straight down the middle. It’s slow and controlled and you wonder if he’s practiced at this or if his strength is just that regulated. You find yourself hoping it’s the latter. 

The dress is ripped from your skin and you see it land somewhere across the room. You hear something shatter along with a thud, but Satoru seems anything but worried, so you ignore it. 

You’re bare in just your undergarments, a lacy white set that you’re now half proud of and half embarrassed by. 

Satoru whistles and his hands settle on your waist. “Damn, baby. Why’d you keep all this hidden for so long?” 

You scoff, your confidence surging. You reach for him, grabbing a scruff of hair at the back of his neck and pulling him close. “You’re the one taking your sweet time, Toru.” 

The sound of the nickname on your lips makes him shiver and you smirk triumphantly.

“Hmm…” is all he says as his fingers trail lower, lower, lower, until they’re dipping beneath the band of your panties. It’s somewhere between tortuous and ticklish and you squirm. “Ah, ah. Hold still for me, now.” He presses one hand to the valley between your breasts, holding you down as his other hand continues lower. When his thumb finds the wet spot on your panties and presses down your back arches and your breath escapes. 

He chuckles. “Little needy, aren’t you?” His thumb moves a little higher, grazing your clit, and you whimper. 

With one deft movement he unclasps your bra, tossing it aside. You register for just a moment that your chest is now completely bare, but soon enough his mouth is closing around your nipple and all else is forgotten. 

“S-Satoru!” you whisper. Your voice feels hoarse, even if it has no reason to be. 

His thumb continues its assault between your thighs. “So wet already, baby…” He sounds ecstatic. The grin on his lips makes you whine. “Let’s get these out of the way…” Before you know it, you hear more tearing and then cold air hits your cunt. You cry out when Satoru’s thumb returns to its ministrations, but this time there’s no cloth barrier to dull the sensation. Your hands push out and your nails curl into his bare shoulders. You need him closer.

“Satoru…” you breathe. “Kiss me…” 

That shit-eating grin returns, but he follows your command. “As my wife wishes.” 

When lips meet yours it’s hot and messy. Your nails claw down his back and you’re sure you’re leaving marks. If he minds, he certainly doesn’t show it.

His thumb continues at your clit as a finger prods at your entrance. When he slides in slowly, you gasp. He murmurs something about you being so sensitive, and proceeds to quickly find that gummy spot inside you that makes you see stars. Before you know it he’s adding a second finger and soon your hips are rocking against his thrusts, meeting his pace as you chase your high. 

“God, you’re so wet.” he whispers against your lips. True to his word, he’s been kissing you, never letting up in his attack on your mouth. “Bet you taste like fucking heaven.”

You whine, your hips stuttering against his hand. “G-Gonna… I’m–” 

He grins again, and pulls away just enough to meet your gaze. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me.” Your eyes flutter shut, your head rolling back– “Nuh, uh. Keep those eyes open. Wanna see every second.” 

Your breaths flutter and you whimper loudly, the sound bouncing on the walls. You’re not sure why you listen, why you fight to keep your eyes open, locked on him, but you do. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll pull away and leave you wanting… or maybe you just want to please him.

You feel your muscles clenching in your stomach, hear the sloppy sounds of Satoru’s fingers thrusting in and out of you, see the gleeful anticipation in his eyes. His thumb rubs a particularly delicious circle around your clit and you feel yourself thrown over the edge. 

You can’t help but be loud. You hold his gaze the whole time, whimpering and whining his name as you gush all over his sheets. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching, holding him inside, desperate to be filled. You hear him panting above you, like watching has somehow taken his breath away. 

“Good girl,” he whispers and you feel a second wave of pleasure ripple through you. 

You feel weak by the time your orgasm leaves you. Your muscles are limp and your cunt is so sensitive that you flinch when Satoru removes his fingers. He brushes a tear from the corner of your eye and you watch as he brings his sopping fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices clean. He moans, a deep throaty sound, like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. You watch his eyes roll back in his skull, watch his throat bob as he swallows. Your lips part at the sight. 

His fingers fall from his mouth with a pop and his grin returns.

“Just like I thought,” he says. “Heaven.” 

He’s back on you in a second, licking a stripe from your collarbone to just beneath your ear. His hips slot between your own and a strong hands hook around the backs of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. You whimper. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so completely and utterly exposed. 

“On to the main event, yeah?” The twinkle in his eye has your heart racing even faster. His fingers catch the towel that is somehow still wrapped snugly around his waist. With one tug, it’s gone and your mouth is watering in anticipation. 

Your jaw drops lower, if it’s even possible. He’s… huge. Long and pretty with veins that you know are going to rub just right. His tip is pink and leaking, ready. 

“Satoru, it won’t–” 

His lips connect to your pulse, licking and sucking when you feel him prodding at your entrance. “It’ll fit, baby.” 

He slides himself through your folds, gathering your juices and torturing you every time his tip bumps your clit. By the time he’s finally lining himself up, you’re practically begging. 

The first push is heaven. You’re both moaning when he prods past that first tight ring of muscle and you’re gasping, crying out his name and clawing at his back. He keeps pushing, filling you inch by inch until he’s pressed snugly against your cervix. You thank him aloud when he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, to the feeling of being filled to the absolute brim. He only kisses the tears from your cheeks. 

The first thrust has you seeing stars, little white spots clouding your vision. The second has your nails embedding in his skin hard enough to draw blood. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it has him moving faster, grunting in your ear and whimpering your name.

“Sooo… f-ahh-ucking t-tight…” he whispers. 

A hand slides between your sweaty bodies, a thumb rubbing familiar circles against your swollen clit. You cry out, clenching down like a vice. 

“F-Fuck, princess.” 

His thrusts rock your body and the sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the air. You feel that familiar coil begin to form, to heat at your core. Your muscles tighten and your legs begin to shake. 

“Atta girl. Cum on my cock, baby.” 

You whimper at the praise, at the incessant rubbing of your clit, at the relentless pounding of your cervix. It’s all too much, too good. 

“Satoru…” you cry. Your legs burn and ache. Satoru has your knees pressed so tightly to your chest you’re afraid something might snap. It only adds to the tension beginning to unravel at your center. You feel as if you’re burning, as if you’re going to snap– and then you do. Heat unravels beneath your skin and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. Your legs tremble and your toes curl and you vaguely hear your husband whispering a mix of curses and praises in your ear. You’re still lost in the sensation when he starts groaning and you feel him flooding your insides with shallow thrusts close to your cervix, filling you with rope after rope of his hot cum. You’re still panting when you finally regain your mind. Satoru’s still on top of you, completely limp with his head buried in your neck. You curl a hand into his hair, silently holding him close. That was some of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had. You smirk. Yeah, maybe this baby-making business wasn’t going to be so bad. 

You shiver when you feel Satoru licking and sucking at your skin. There’s a tenderness in the action that makes you pull him closer. He hasn’t even pulled out yet, but you can already feel him hardening inside you, ready for another round. 

“Think it stuck?” he asks. You smirk and answer with a breathy laugh. 

“Don’t know.” Silently, you think that there’s no way it didn’t. You can feel his cum dripping down your thighs and there’s just so much of it.

He lifts his head, eyes bright and sparkling even in the dim light. He grins. “Guess we’d better make sure.” 

~

With the rate at which Satoru fucks you it’s no surprise when you get two positive little pink lines a few week later. You tell Satoru by unceremoniously dropping the test in front of him while he’s drinking his morning coffee. He only grins and kisses you before he bends you over the counter, whispering something about needing to show you how appreciative he is when he slides inside you. The next morning you wake to Satoru’s lips on yours, a brand new credit card, and a new car in the driveway, fitted with all of the newest safety features (only the best for his wife and baby, he says). You sigh and smile when you see it. Yeah, this whole baby-making business definitely wasn’t so bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri

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[seduzist]

if he’s evil why hot? young! snow x reader smut drabble

young! coriolanus snow is the type to eat you out for hours until you’re so sensitive that your legs can’t stop shaking and you’re trying to push his head off of between your thighs, but he can’t help it, your taste makes him feel calmer and takes all of his stress out, the sight of you moaning while caressing his hair lets him know how much you love it and how much you love him.

“c-coryo, p-please, i can’t…” you couldn’t even form a phrase, and he smiles at that, you were just a sweaty mess on his bed, squirming with your head fuzzy, the sight only made his cock throb more.

he finally take some pity on you, sitting in the bed in front of your opened shaking legs. “it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.”

his words made you open your eyes again, smiling and thanking him in a whispered voice. but he didn’t finish yet. he brings one of his hand to his painfully hard cock, leaking so much precum that was more than enough to lube his hands so he could start rubbing.

you were weak, overstimulated and your brain couldn’t even think straight but you couldn’t let your man finish by himself after he gaves you so many mind-blowing orgasms, so you did your best to get closer to him even though your body was sore.

when your thighs finally touched his, you replaced his hand with yours, seeing him close his eyes at your warm touch, you almost could feel his relief after spending hours hard like a rock. your hand was much smaller than his, of course, so you had to run your palm much faster through his shaft to get him there.

by the position he could easily just thrust his cock inside you and uses you as he pleases until he comes, but knowing how sensitive your pussy was and how much it would hurt you, he left the idea behind and focused on your pretty hand stroking his cock.

when he felt himself getting closer, he looked down, grunting and panting, he only let a “fuck” at the view, he was about to cum all over your belly and tits and god, how he wanted to. “i’m close, babe, so fucking close.” his breathy voice had you biting your lip.

“cum all over me, love.”

[allurilove]

Yandere Husband x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: possessive behavior, manipulation, pregnancy/ baby trapping, cunnilingus, fem reader, p in v sex, dry humping, stalking, he’s a very deceptive man

*Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last post of yan!husband 😭🩵 This is a continuation off of my last post, and he’s only referred to as “your husband.” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. Here is the third part! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your husband is over the moon. He infiltrated your life, and he will make sure you never forget it. His obsession love for you is taken to new heights, a newest edition blessing your family.

You hated being pregnant as much as you hated being lied too. After learning he’s been stalking you, and purposefully feeding you lies about your whole interactions just being “fate,” he finds ways to make you forgive him.

What a fucking creep. Your husband thought as he watched the realtor get too handsy with you. Actually, everyone was trying to put their hands on you. You were carrying his baby, but others would put their hand on your stomach, acting as if it was theirs. He stiffened as the realtor tried to make a lame joke about the master bedroom.

He automatically appeared by your side, removing the realtors hands on your baby bump. He was in a bad mood the whole entire day. When you two go back home, he pulled you to the bedroom. He’s more careful with your body now, and he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He crawled next to you.

His arms wrapped around you possessively, his face digging into your neck, and you hear him whisper sweet things into your skin. He pressed kisses onto your shoulder, his hands wandering around your body before he groped at your chest.

You’ve gained weight, which was natural and just a part of the process. He loved to fondle your thighs, and his hands start to move upwards. Your husband slipped his hand underneath your dress, his hands touching your inner thigh and near your warmth. He was always the big spoon, loving how you feel in his arms.

“Oh dear…” Your husband whispered in delight, his eyes glancing down to see his hardened dick.

Your husband would always be erect around you, his hands revealing your plump ass to him and he gently smacked it. You scoff and push him away. You still haven’t forgotten…. you thought you found a friend, a guy to talk to about your stresses and worries in life. But he was the perpetrator.

“I said I was sorry…” Your husband frowned. “You sure know how to hold a grudge…”

When you shoot him a glare and make it clear you were still upset, he raised his hands in surrender. “Alright… let me make it up to you.”

Your husband pulled your legs apart, and his hands automatically went for your panties.

You remember a time when he first went down on you. You were in a vulnerable position at the time, as you ran and ran from your stalker, however you couldn’t help feel a bit of happiness. This was a confirmation that you weren’t hallucinating, and all of your friends that didn’t believe you, could suck it. But it also meant you weren’t just delusional, and someone was actually following you. Fatigue settled into your body, and you rested on the wall as you try to catch your breath.

Your husband, who was just a friend at the time, conveniently was walking past. He looked worried, and he feigned innocence when he pretended that he didn’t see a man following you. He walked you back home that night, and he got you so comfortable around him- that his fingers were easily slipping inside you. His tongue lapping up any juices that flowed out of you, and he pressed kisses on your folds.

He was a vessel of safety, and at the time you thought you would be fine for awhile. Completely unaware that your stalker was now sleeping in the same bed as you.

Your husband moaned as his mouth latched onto your cunt, his hands now trailing upwards to feel your stomach. His heart fluttered, and his mind was plagued of ways to keep you by his side forever. Spilling his seed inside you was one thing, and marrying you was another… but he needed something more binding.

He was a bit afraid of hurting the baby, and he always tried different ways of pleasing you than using his dick. He pulled down his pants and he lowered his hips, just enough to be rubbing against your wet core. You feel the soft fabric of his boxers touching your clit, and his lips connect with yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue.

You remember the time when you found out you were pregnant. You were suddenly sick, and your husband was by your side, just mindlessly playing with your tits. He did that often as he read his newspapers, his hand would crawl underneath your shirt, and his excuse was that he just needs something to fondle. That was when you found out he was not who he said he was. That the times he “bumped” into you, was him finding out your schedule, your routine, and months of stalking.

“What are you thinking about, hmm?” Your husband whispered in your ear, one of his hand grabbed onto your ass to help you follow his rhythm. He continues to grind himself onto you, his other hand playing with your hair.

“What will it take for you to forgive me?”

“Will it help if you hit me?” Your husband scoffed as you screamed at him for hours. You cried your heart out, and the person you loved at the time, was the reason for your paranoia. You can still feel his kisses on your neck, the way he pulled your clothes off, and when he bent you over on the dresser, you couldn’t move. His body was smushed right against yours, he humiliated you, made you feel desperate for release, and made your toes curl.

As he fucked you from behind, he forced you to look at yourself in the mirror. The way drool dribbled down your mouth as you let out silent screams, your eyes rolling back as his thrusts were hard, and demanding submission. You despised him, the way he puts his hands on you, and the way he made you cum.

“…You’re crying..?” Your husband was stumped as tears welled up in your eyes and you started to sniffle. “Because of me?”

You’re tired of him trying to make it up to you. If he really wanted too, he would’ve came clean long time ago and go to jail for fucks sake. You feel his eyes zero in on your tears, watching it dribble down to your chin, and out of curiosity he licked them. He kisses your cheeks and he wraps his arms around you again. You feel suffocated having him on top of you, and you wish someone would take pity on you and take you away.

“I’m sorry.”

You’ve heard it countless of times, each meaningless and empty.

Allure: Sorry that this took awhile! I had to redo this a couple of times, and I wasn’t sure what to write really.

[elliewithcellie]

Protector

summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)

wc: 9.8k (oh my god)

cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously

a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on

“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.

Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.

His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”

You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.

You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.

The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.

Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.

“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.

You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”

“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”

“Sounds good.”

You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”

You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.

You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.

“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.

Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.

------

“Hotchner.”

You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.

“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”

You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.

“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.

You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.

------

The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.

The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.

Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”

“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”

 “Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?

The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.   

You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”

“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.

“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.

“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”

You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.

Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.

Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.

You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.

As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.

You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.

“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.

You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”

“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.

“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.

“What’s your book about?”

Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.

“It’s a romance,” you confessed.

“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”

You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”

You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.

“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.

You smiled at his words.

“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.

“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”

You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.

“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”

You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.

“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”

“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.

“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”

“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.

“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”

“My dad said all that?”

“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.

Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.

“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”

“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”

“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”

He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.

“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.

“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”

You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.

“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”

You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.

------

You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.

You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.

“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”

He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.

“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”

“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.

You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”

“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.

You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.

As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.

The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.

“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.

-------

In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.

JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”

You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.

“No, I slept fine. I swear.”

“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.

“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”

“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”

 “Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.

His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”

Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.

“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”

“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.

Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”

The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”

“Y/N,” Reid said.

All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.

“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”

“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”

“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.

“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.

“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”

-------

For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.

You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.

“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”

You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.

You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.

Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.

“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”

You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.

“Put it on.”

You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.

“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.

“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”

“That’s it,” Morgan said.

“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”

On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.

“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. I got it.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.

Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”

You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.

------

You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.

Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.

“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.

You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”

“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”

The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”

“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you��re missing?”

“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.

“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.

Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.

“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.

------

The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.

------

You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.

Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.

“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.

“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”

“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”

Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.

“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.

Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.

Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.

“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”

You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.

When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.

“How are you?”

“Everything hurts.”

“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”

“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”

“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”

“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”

Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”

“Hotch. Please.”

Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”

You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.

“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”

He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.

“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”

You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.

“It was you?” you asked.

Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”

“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”

The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”

Hotch shook his head no.

“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”

Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”

“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”

Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”

The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.

“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.

“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.

Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”

The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.

“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”

“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.

“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.

Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.

Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.

Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.

“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.

A few of them chuckled at your antics.

“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”

“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.

“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.

“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.

“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.

A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”

“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.

You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.

“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.

Imagine how Hotch must have felt.

“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.

The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.

“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”

“You need sleep, sir.”

“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”

You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”

“It’s why I offered.”

You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”

“What can I do?”

“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”

“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”

When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.

“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.

“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”

You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”

He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.

“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”

Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”

He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight.”

------

You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.

The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.

“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.

You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.

“How can I help?”

You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”

His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.

“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.

“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”

“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.

“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”

All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.

“Wait,” you said.

He froze.

You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”

You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.

“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”

You nodded.

He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

------

The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.

When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.

“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”

“I can get my things just fine.”

“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”

You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.

The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.

Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.

“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”

You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.

You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”

“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.

You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.

Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.

Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.

“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”

“Hotch, what is all this?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”

“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.

“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”

Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”

“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”

“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”

Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”

You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”

“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.

“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”

“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”

“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”

“I would do that for anyone.”

“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.

“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.

“This morning…” you said.

“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”

“Then what did Reid mean?”

Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”

“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”

“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”

You looked at him in shock.

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”

“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”

Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”

“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”

“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”

“Stop it, now.”

“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”

“Hotch, I swear to god—”

“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”

“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”

“But he’s not just mean, is he?”

The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.

Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”

You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”

Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”

“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”

His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.

He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”

“This is ok,” you said, breathless.

“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”

A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”

You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.

“Your room. Now.”

His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.

Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.

“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.

You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.

You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.

“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.

“You, first.”

Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your turn,” he said.

You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.

You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.

“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”

Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.

You nodded.

“Use your words, honey.”

Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”

He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.

“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.

“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”

Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.

Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.

A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.

“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.

“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.

“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.

“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.

When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.

Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.

“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”  

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”

He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.

Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”

“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”

Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.

You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”

Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.

Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.

“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”

“Faster, please,” you said.

His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.

“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”

He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.

“Just like that!” you blurted out.

He did just that, slamming into you again and again.

“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.

“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.

“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”

You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.

“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”

“Chest!”

He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.

Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.

“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”

“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”

Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.

“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.

“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”

“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”

In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.

“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.

“The team’s gonna know,” you said.

Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”

You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”

“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”

Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.

************

ForeversTaglist:

@lizziedizzie3 @heavennleeee-blog @hunterswearingplaid @thisismysecrethappyplace @geekinator9 @ronnie248-blog @oliolioxiclean @phonegalhelp @because-you-never-know-when @roonyxx @keithseabrook27 @ericaprice2008 @heythereamigodude

[moonchild9350]

Pick You Up

Summary: Chan comes back from the gym complaining of sore muscles. You offer to give him a massage amongst other things.

Pairing: dom Chan x sub fem reader (soft dom reader for like 2 seconds)

Genre: smutt- this is a 18+ fic, MDNI

Word Count: 2511

Warnings: cursing, hand job, daddy kink, breeding kink, spanking, overstimulation, p in v penetration, creampie (wrap it up, wrap it up), cum swapping/cum eating...I think that's it

Note: This is inspired by Chan's bubble message saying he only works out to pick stay up. After he sent that message my mind went feral and this is the product. I think I wrote this is record speed lol Enjoy!

This is in no way how Chan is in reality. This is just for fun.

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

You knew your boyfriend Chan liked to work out. He goes diligently everyday with Changbin, the two letting their stress out that is built up from busy days in the recording studio by lifting weights.  Chan always said he didn’t feel like he was muscular, but you knew better.  You saw and felt those muscles every night when he would wrap his arms around you as you two fell asleep.  Nonetheless, you knew it was hard to change his mind once he thought a certain way. 

Chan was on his way back from the gym, having given you a call thirty minutes earlier, saying he was going to bring back dinner with him.  He walked in the door, kicking off his shoes and setting his gym bag down.  He walked over to you and gave you a kiss, as you were sitting on the couch watching TV.  He placed the food on the table.

“Hey baby girl, I brought dinner.  Wanna eat after I shower?”

“Yes babe, that’d be great. I’m starving!” you replied.

Chan chuckled at this and said, “Well I gotta feed my girl yeah?  Sit tight, I’ll be done shortly.”

You nodded at this and watched him walk towards your bedroom.  You heard the shower turn on and settled back in to watch your show. 

Not long after, he came back out.  He opened the take out and gave you yours.  He took his dish and sat down next to you.  While you guys ate, you asked about his gym session.  “Not bad, my muscles are killing me though,” Chan responded.  You hummed at this and said, “would you like me to give you a massage?” Chan considered this and agreed with a nod of his head.  “Well let’s clear this away and I can start your massage,” you responded.  You and Chan dropped the dishes in the kitchen and made the way to your shared bedroom.  

“Go ahead and sit down Channie,” you said.  Chan made his way to the bed and sat on the myriad of blankets littering the bed.  You sat behind Chan and started massaging the muscles in his neck.  At your touch, Chan sighed, relaxing and leaning back against you.  You slowly kneaded your hands into the tight muscles, taking your time.  There was silence as you worked, just the sound of the nightlife outside your window. 

“Feels amazing baby girl,” Chan grumbled out, letting his head fall back against your chest.  His eyes fluttered closed and he let off a sigh every now and then as you continued the massage.  Once you got to his sides, you took one of your hands and carefully brought it to his crotch.  You gently placed your hand on his cock and gave it a light squeeze.  Chan’s eyes flew open with your actions.  Chuckling, he asked, “What are you doing there baby girl?”  You shushed him and responded, “Just relax Channie, just want to make you feel good.”  At that Chan grinned and relaxed further into you, closing his eyes once more.  

You began rubbing his clothed cock, giving it a light squeeze every now and then. With each touch, you could feel his cock filling out the space in his shorts.  Chan groaned as you gave his cock a hard squeeze.  “Can you touch it baby girl? Go ahead and get daddy’s cock out.”  You reached your hand into Chan’s shorts and grabbed his cock.  It was warm and hard in your hands.  You rubbed your hand over his slit, gathering pre-cum, Chan hissing in the process.  You moved your hand up and down his shaft at a slow pace, placing wet kisses on his shoulders and neck. 

 “Does it feel good Channie?” you whispered.  

“It feels more than good baby girl.  Keep going, keep stroking daddy’s cock.”  You picked up the pace, jerking your hand, gathering more pre-cum to help the glide.  

Chan’s eyes fluttered at the feeling, sighing out with pleasure, as you worked his cock, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.  With each stroke, his breathing kicked up, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He thrusted up his hips, when he felt your other hand reach into his shorts and fondle his balls.  

“Yes baby girl, yes, so…so close, don’t stop.” 

With a hard squeeze of his balls, you whispered, “cum for me daddy.”  

“Fuu.. fuck,” Chan groaned loudly, muscles tensing, as he came hard, cum spurting out all over your hands.  You continued to stroke his cock, milking every last drop of cum, until Chan was hissing from the overstimulation.  You took your hand out of his shorts and licked up his cum, making sure to get every last drop.  

Chan turned his head and gave you a kiss, tasting the saltiness of his cum on your lips.  “It’s daddy’s turn now huh,” Chan whispered against your lips.  You nodded yes and kissed him again.  Chan guided you to lay down, your head resting on the pillows.  He pulled his shorts off before helping you get undressed, tossing the clothes on the floor. 

Chan grasped your breasts and started to knead them.  You shivered as he leaned down and blew on your nipples, causing them to peak.  Leaning down, he latched onto and suckled your nipple.  You moaned out, running your fingers through Chan’s hair.  He switched to your other nipple before trailing his hand down to your pussy.  You sighed as he slid his fingers through your folds, teasing you.  Gathering up some of your arousal, he brought two fingers to your entrance, sliding them in. He stretched you out with his fingers, dragging them in and out, before curling his fingers upward searching for that spot that drives you crazy.  You gasped out and gripped Chan’s hair tighter when he found that spot within you.  Chan smiled, as he continued to suck and knead your breast, while stroking your g-spot.  You were wiggling around as the pleasure became too much, feeling your high approaching. 

“Stay still babygirl, let me get you there.” 

You moaned and stilled your movements, tears pricking your eyes.  Chan brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing mercilessly, as he kept rubbing your g-spot.  You were a mess, babbling out, “daddy, daddy, I’m close.  Can I cum please? Please let me cum, please, please.” Chan cooed at your babbling, giving you a kiss, before saying, “Go ahead and cum, baby girl. Cum for daddy.”  Your head flew back on the pillows and you rocked your hips violently as you came around Chan’s fingers, chanting, “daddy, I’m cumming, daddy, ahhhh.” Chan continued to rub your clit, as you came down from your high.  

“You're daddy’s good girl, hm?” Chan brought his fingers covered in your arousal to your lips, “Open up baby girl, go ahead and taste yourself.”  

You opened your mouth, suckling his fingers covered in your arousal, moaning at the taste.  You licked every last drop before he pulled his fingers away, giving you a kiss. 

“Good girl, such a good girl yeah?”  

You hummed and whined at his praise.  “Want your cock. Can I please have your cock daddy?” 

“Baby girl, needs my cock?  I’ll give you my cock, but we’re going to try something different today, yeah?”

You whimpered at the suggestion, not caring about what he was saying, as long as it led to him burying his cock deep in your pussy.  He hummed and gave you a wet kiss before saying “Go ahead and sit up.”  Chan made to get off the bed.  You were a little confused at his actions, but listened anyway.  

“Daddy’s gonna lift you up ok.” You cocked your head sideways, “You’re gonna lift me up?” 

“Mmmhmm.”  Chan walked toward you, “wrap your legs around me baby girl.”  You stood up and wrapped your legs around his hips like he instructed. You then wrapped your  arms around his neck and held on tight.  

 His hands went to grasp your ass, giving it a squeeze.  “Ready baby girl? Ready for my cock?”  You shook your head, “Yes daddy, always ready.”  Chan took one hand to grasp his cock and slid you down onto it.  You moaned at how deep he went in this position.  Chan started to bounce you on his cock, nearly hitting your cervix with each bounce.  You were lost in pleasure, a babbling mess, chanting “daddy, daddy, daddy.”  

Chan looked at his love, watching the emotions flood through your face.  “How does that feel, baby girl? Feel daddy’s cock deep inside?” He walked you backwards so your back could rest against the wall before thrusting hard upwards into your pussy.  You wrapped your arms tighter around Chan’s neck, little ‘ah ah ahs’ leaving your lips as Chan pounded into you. You felt close to your high, as with each thrust, Chan’s neatly trimmed pubic hair brushed against your clit.

Chan leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours for a heated kiss.  He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.  He had sweat dripping down his face, down his back, your pussy just felt that good.  

“You know what baby girl?  I only workout so I can pick you up.  So I can pick you up and pound that sweet, tight pussy of yours.  So you can feel me deep inside…and fill you up.”  

You groaned at his confession, “So strong daddy..ahhh, I’m close, so close.” 

“Baby girl is close? Yeah? Go ahead and let go, let go for daddy.”  His dirty words were just what you needed, you let go, letting your orgasm take over, leaning your head back against the wall, and letting out a loud moan.  Chan leaned forward and kissed your neck, not stopping with his thrusts.  

When you finally opened your eyes, Chan gave you a smirk and said, “I’m not done with you yet.” He turned around and threw you on the bed and flipped you onto your hands and knees.  He kneaded your ass, spreading apart your ass cheeks before letting some of his spit drip down between your ass.  You moaned at the sensation, arching your back further, presenting your pussy for him.  Chan brought his hand down, giving your ass a slap before kneading the area to soothe the pain.  He repeatedly slapped your ass,  listening to you moan which each smack. When he was done, there were red marks where his hand landed, causing him to smirk. “If only you could see yourself.” 

He brought his fingers down to your pussy once more, running them through your folds.  You whimpered at his touch, feeling overstimulated from your previous orgasm.  Despite this, your arousal was steadily dripping down your thighs, and Chan noticed.  “Need my cock again baby? Once wasn’t enough for you?”

“Ne..need your cock again daddy, please, please, need to be full of you!”

He hummed at this and grabbed his cock.  He hissed at his touch, he cock rock hard,  needing his release.  He brought his tip to your entrance and slammed his cock into you, bottoming out in one thrust.  He began pounding into you, without giving you warning.  The sound of your ass hitting his pelvis and Chan’s moans resounded throughout the room.  

Chan grabbed your hands and brought them behind your back, pulling you up to his chest.  He continued pounding into you.  No sound came out of your mouth, your lips formed into an O, the pleasure beyond amazing.  “Are you daddy’s good girl? Letting me use you like this, letting daddy have your pussy in any way he likes.”  

You couldn’t respond right away, lost in the immense pleasure Chan was giving you.  You finally found the words after a moment, mumbling “Hmmmmm da..daddy’s good girl, yeah, yeah your good girl.  Want your cum daddy,” you babbled.  What you to fill me up, please fill me up, breed this pussy.”

“Yeah? Want daddy to fill you up? Breed you full?” Chan let your hands go, continuing to pound into you as you fell onto the bed, face buried in the pillows, moaning and mumbling.  He grabbed your hips, squeezing them, as he rutted into you, feeling his high approaching. “Here ya go baby, here’s my cum, here’s daddy’s cum.” He rutted into you one last time, pressing his hips against yours.  You felt his cum flood your insides, and whimpered at the feeling.  

Once Chan came down from his high, he flipped you over onto your back.  He took one look at you, tears running down your face, lips red from you biting them, and gave you a kiss.  “My good girl, such a good girl.  Let me clean you up, yeah?”  Chan scooted down your legs, opening them so he could fit in between them.  You could barely register his actions until you felt his hot tongue on your pussy.  You squealed at the stimulation, beyond overstimulated.  

“Gotta clean you up baby girl, hold still.” Chan opened your lips with his fingers and lapped at your pussy, licking up both his cum and yours.  Your hands went to his hair, pulling at the strands, causing Chan to moan.  Between his tongue on your pussy, and the vibrations from his moans, you came hard, your vision going white, hearing fuzzy, and legs spasming.  Finally Chan leaned back, mouth covered in both his and your cum.  He hovered over you and leaned down to give you a kiss.  You latched onto him, tasting his cum and yours on his tongue, moaning at the taste.  

Chan was the first to break the kiss.  He laid down next to you, pulling your limp body into his.  “How are you doin baby girl?” He pressed kisses on your neck and shoulder.  You mumbled something, not completely coherent.  Chan chuckled and squeezed you tighter to him.  “You did good, so proud of you.”  You hummed at his praise and carefully turned your body so you could face him.  You gave Chan a kiss and just rested in his embrace.  Before you knew it, you started to doze off.  Chan nudged you and whispered, “No falling asleep yet baby, we gotta get you cleaned up, for real this time.” You mumbled what he thought was ok.  

Chan got up to run a bath.  He filled it with your favorite bubble bath and lit the candles you liked.  He came back into the bedroom and scooped you up.  Once he got to the bathtub, he gently placed you in it.  You sighed at the feeling of the warm water on your sore muscles.  Chan got in and sat behind you pulling you close to his chest.  You snuggled into him, sighing in content in more ways than one.  Chan stroked your back gently, pressing a kiss to your head.  “What’s going through that head of yours hm?” 

You hummed and said, “you’re my strong Channie.”  At this Chan chuckled, “I guess so.”  You were in thought for a while and then said, “Channie, can we try that again some time?” 

Chan looked down at you and smiled, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

[theosbaby]

helping hand

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

masterlist

summary; the guys find out that enzo is still a virgin and they keep bothering him about it, so he asks for your help.

warnings; friends to lovers, use of y/n (just once i think), loss of virginity, SMUT, virgin!lorenzo, sub!lorenzo, dom!reader, mutual masturbation, p in v, lots of praising, neck grabbing, hair pulling, slight orgasm denial, unprotected sex.

author's note; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. yes, i have read filthy and i know lorenzo isn't innocent at all, but i wanted to portray him like that for this one, hope you like it!

lorenzo was your best friend, he had been since you both were a couple of tweens and met at the hogwarts express on your first year. you remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. he had bumped into you, which made you drop your chocolate frog to the ground, after that, he immediately apologized and bought you the whole honeydukes trolley as an apology; at that moment, you swore to yourself you would never let him go.

and seven years later, he was the most important person in your life.

as every friday night, lorenzo and you were having a sleepover in your dormroom. that night, pansy, your roommate, was out on a date with some dude and you had the room all to yourselves. you were lying in your bed, enzo next to you. a film was playing, but you were having trouble to focus on it since enzo kept moving; he looked uneasy, which was really rare to be honest, lorenzo was the calmest guy in the whole wizarding world.

you couldn't possibly imagine what was going on in that pretty head of his.

truth is, the week before, the rest of the guys had discovered that enzo was still a virgin and they had been teasing him about it nonstop since then, which had already started to seriously bother him. at first, maybe you could say it was funny, but after eight days of constant jokes, it was not funny anymore.

you sighed, finally deciding to ask him what was going through his mind.

"lorenzo," you called him, using his full name, which you rarely did, "is something wrong? you seem off today..."

enzo looked away, clearly trying to avoid your eyes, and you frowned; that was the confirmation you needed to know that something was not fine, he never averted your gaze like that.

"nothing, just... dealing with some stress." he answered, dodging the subject. when he saw your unpleased look, he added, "it's not a big deal, seriously. don't worry about it."

"cmon, enzo..." you said, reaching to cup his cheek and force him to look at you, "i know you like the palm of my hand and i know something's bothering you."

you smiled reassuringly at him, pausing the film to focus fully on the conversation, then you added, "you can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

enzo's cheeks blushed slightly, his eyes darting back and forth as he looked at you, clearly hesitating whether he should tell you or not.

"you wouldn't... you wouldn't think any less of me, would you?" he asked and you saw a hint of vulnerability in his light brown irises.

you frowned as you looked at him, caressing his cheek softly; his attitude was making you really worried.

"of course not, enzo... you're my best friend," you told him with a soft and sweet voice, trying to get him to open to you.

he nodded slowly, leaning into your touch; he found comfort in your presence, it had always been that way. taking a deep breath, enzo finally confessed.

"well... it's just that... the guys found out i'm still a virgin and they've been teasing me about it all week." as he talked, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"that's it?" you asked, chuckling as your worried expression visibly softened. "they're a bunch of idiots... just ignore them, enzo," you reassured him, your hand moving up to stroke his soft hair.

enzo managed to let out a small laugh, his expression softening at your comment too.

"yeah, i know..." he muttered, his eyes fixed in yours as he thought of his next words, "but it's hard not to let it get to me when they treat me like some sort of joke."

"don't say that, enzo..." you replicated, your brow furrowed as you heard his words. "there's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

he nodded, agreeing with you, while his eyes drifted back to the paused movie on the screen. despite your words, he still seemed a bit troubled. you were definitely going to beat the guys up the next time you saw them for making enzo feel so bad about something completely normal and natural.

"i know that... i can't help but feel self-conscious about it though," he said, then elaborated, "I mean, everyone else seems to be... well, you know."

"experienced?" you asked, finishing his sentence.

you grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his; you wanted to make him feel better. he looked down at your intertwined fingers and sighed softly.

"yeah... experienced." he nodded while he talked. "it's not like i haven't tried to lose my virginity or anything; it's just never been the right time or person, i guess."

you gave his hand a gentle squeeze when you heard his words, smiling at how sweet he was. enzo was simply the perfect guy, the perfect friend, and you were sure someday he'd be the perfect boyfriend.

"you'll get there eventually, trust me," you chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder. "just don't overthink it, okay?"

lorenzo smiled back, clearly more relaxed now that had confided in you. his fingers tightened slightly around yours as he rested his head on top of yours.

"i know, thanks for listening, darling."

"always, enzo." you kissed his cheek briefly. "and if they bother you again about it, just let me know, I'll gladly hit them," you added, laughing.

"you would do that for me?" he looked at you, his expressive eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room.

"i'd do anything for you," you answered honestly, smiling warmly at him.

it was the truest thing you had ever told him; there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't sacrifice for him. he was just worth it. your words seemed to awake something in him, you could almost see the gears in his head spinning as he stared at you intently.

"really? anything?" his voice deepened a bit, his eyes still locked onto yours. "can I ask you something then?"

"of course silly, anything," you replied, letting out a nervous laugh as his intense gaze made you feel butterflies in your belly.

"would you..." he swallowed nervously, taking a deep breath before continuing. "would you maybe... want to be my first?"

your breath hitched when you heard his proposal, your heart started racing in your chest. for a second, you thought that you could be dreaming, so you pinched yourself; the pain you felt confirmed that your were, in fact, not sleeping.

"enzo, are you sure about that?" you questioned, unsure if he was saying it seriously or not. "we've just talked about that, there's nothing wrong with being a virgin," you repeated.

"i know, darling." he bite his lower lip, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "but I can't stop thinking about it... and I'd really like it to be with you."

"really?" you gasped in surprise, nipping at your bottom lip to try and hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

you loved enzo; not the kind of love you feel for a brother, though, you were in love with him, and you had tried to convince yourself otherwise for a long time, because you thought your feelings weren't reciprocated, but now... he was in front of you, asking you to be his first, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to ignore your feelings anymore.

"you aren't just doing it out of social pressure?"

you wanted to make sure he was not feeling pressured to do it; you wanted him to do it only if he finally felt ready to take that step.

"no, i mean it," he said, blushing shyly. "i really want it to be with you, y/n. you're so beautiful, and kind, and smart. i've had a crush on you for years."

his admission made your heart skip a beat; you thought you were going to faint right there and then. your thoughts were all over the place, your mind racing as you looked at him, but there was just one thing that you knew for sure; you were dying to kiss him... so you did.

"then, i guess it can be arranged," you whispered, reaching to cup his face and pull him into a kiss, one that was very sweet at first.

enzo's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the kiss, his hands moving to rest on your hips. he gasped softly against your lips, his heart racing wildly. you took control of the kiss as you tangled your fingers in his hair and tug at it, slipping your tongue in his mouth; the innocent kiss soon turning into a full make out session.

his hands moved slowly but surely down to the small of your back, gently pressing against your lower back and pulling you even closer to him. you slightly moaned into the kiss, unable to get enough of the taste of his soft lips.

"you taste so good, enzo," you muttered between kisses, not pulling back at any moment.

your hand moved down his neck, gripping at it, which made enzo gasp softly, his fingers digging into your waist as his tongue became bolder in your mouth. he could feel himself getting hard, the rush of blood making him dizzy.

he was practically on top of you at that point, so you pushed him gently until he was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and you straddled his lap, leaning in to resume the kissing. quickly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close a he possibly could. one of his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pushing it upwards slowly; the gentle caress of his fingertips on your skin gave you goosebumps.

"you want me to take this off, baby?" you asked, breaking the kiss, as you started toying with the hem of your top.

lorenzo looked at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips slightly. "yes, please… take it off."

you smirked, grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it off your body. since you were not wearing a bra, you breasts were now completely exposed under his intense gaze. his eyes darkened as he saw your boobs for the first time; they were perfect, just like the rest of you.

"have you ever touched a girl, enzo?" you questioned, a sweet tone to your voice.

he swallowed hard, his hands aching to touch you, and answered, "no, I haven't."

"don't be shy, baby," you whispered with a smile, grabbing his hands to encourage him to cup your breasts, squeezing them lightly. "like this."

enzo stared at your face closely, his eyes filled with lust as he mimicked your action, his hands squeezing both your boobs gently. his thumbs brushed against your little nipples, causing them to harden instantly.

"you're beautiful," he breathed out, completely stunned at your beauty.

you gasped slightly, your cheeks flushing as a heat wave washed over your body; your panties growing wetter by the second. the way he touched you, as if he was worshipping your body, was a huge turn on.

"thank you, baby," you muttered, squirming in his lap.

enzo moaned softly as he felt your body grinding against his hard length. he kissed along your jawline and down your neck, nipping softly as he went. you let out a cute whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his tongue lapping at one of your hard nipples and you reached up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair, caressing it tenderly; he groaned against your skin as he began to suck at the hard nub gently.

his hand moved down between your legs and he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your shorts and panties; you felt his digits rubbing hesitantly over your pussy, as if he didn't know what to do with them next.

"enzo," you gasped at his action, tugging at his hair tenderly. "you have never done that before, right?" you chuckled as you you caressed his face.

lorenzo blushed slightly and shook his head slowly, still teasing your sensitive skin with his fingers. his eyes locked onto yours as he whispered back, "no... i haven't."

"let me show you how to do it properly, yeah?" you said with a sweet voice, grabbing his hand to pull it out of your panties.

then, you got off his lap, sitting next to him as you pushed your shorts and underwear down your legs, finally exposing your pussy. his breath hitched in his throat as he saw you completely bare for the first time. he reached out tentatively, tracing a finger along your upper thigh.

your hand moved down to cup your pussy, your fingers gently parting your slick folds to rub your swollen clit in circles, teaching him how you liked it; you couldn't help but gasp at the touch.

"just like this, see?" you asked, looking at him with glazed eyes.

enzo's eyes darkened as he watched you touch yourself; you looked so vulnerable and exposed, yet so sexy. when you withdrew your hand, he replaced your fingers with his, mirroring your movements as he started rubbing your clit in small circles.

"fuck yeah, like that..." you muttered, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your hips bucked forward. "doing so good for me, enzo," you praised.

he groaned at your praise as he watched you writhing at his touch. his dick was rock hard in his pants and he wished more than anything that he could slide it into your tight pussy right away.

you reached next to you to push his sweatpants down his thighs, just enough to free his erection. he arched his back slightly to help you and his hard cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach. you bit your lower lip, your mouth watering when you saw his dick; he was really big.

"can i touch you, baby?" you asked, your hand absent-mindedly tracing patterns over his abs.

enzo's breath hitched at your touch. his abs flexed slightly under your fingertips as he nodded eagerly. when he gave you his permission, you grabbed his length in your hand gently, pumping it slowly at first.

he groaned at your touch, leaning back against the headboard as you began to stroke his cock, his fingers still rubbing your soaked pussy. his eyes were half-closed as he watched you move your hand up and down.

"that feels so good, darling," he muttered.

you moaned in response when his digits picked up speed, pressing down your swollen clit and making you squirm in pleasure. your chest raised and fell quickly as you gasped for air.

he smirked as he felt your body respond to his touch, leaning forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that you returned instantly. his tongue slipped inside your mouth as his hand slid down your slit, searching for your entrance; he pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling your wetness coat his digits as he began to thrust them in and out.

you whined, involuntarily breaking the contact between your lips, and your face scrunched in pleasure. your hand moved faster as it stroke his cock, your thumb teasing his tip, that was leaking precum.

he groaned, his mouth finding your neck. his free hand slid up to cup your breast, massaging it gently as he continued to finger fuck you. he was already close to cumming, all the new sensations overwhelming him, but he wanted to make it last as long as possible.

"enzo, fuck," you cursed, your pussy tightening around his fingers when you felt the coil in your belly about to snap. "such a good boy... making me feel so good."

you gasped, your pumps becoming sloppier as you approached your orgasm. enzo's breath hitched at your praising words, hips bucking against your hand, unable to contain himself any longer.

"please, love... let me inside you," he begged between breathy moans, his fingers thrusting in and out of you harder.

"how do you want me, baby?" you asked in a whisper, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

enzo nipped at his lower lip, he didn't even have to think his answer. "i want you to ride me," he muttered as he looked into your eyes, his own glazed with lust.

you gasped when he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a smirk tugging at your lips as you said, "whatever you want, baby."

you released his cock from your grasp to climb onto his lap. enzo's breath caught in his throat when you straddled him, the sight of your wet pussy just inches from his cock making him shudder with anticipation; he almost came on the spot. his hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

you grabbed his cock and placed the tip against your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto it. you couldn't help but moan as you took his big cock inside you. once he was fully seated within your pussy, you stood still for a moment to get used to the new intrusion.

"how does that feel, my pretty boy?" you asked, leaning in to nuzzle his neck affectionately.

he groaned, his hands moving to cup your ass as he began to instinctively thrust up into you. it felt so perfect, so right, like every inch of him belonged inside you.

"it feels so good," he whispered in your ear, his breathing ragged.

"yeah... it does," you agreed, starting to ride him slowly at first; his cock reached all the right spots inside you so easily. "it's like your dick was fucking made for me, enzo," you moan, your breathing growing uneven.

he shuddered as he bucked up into you, his fingers digging into your ass so hard that you were sure he would leave bruises. you were so fucking tight, and he was so hard, the friction almost too much for him to handle.

you smirked as you saw him so helpless underneath your body while you rode him. you reached to tug at his hair, tilting his head back to suck at his neck, leaving some hickeys, which made him moan.

"you like being deep inside my tight pussy, enzo?" you teased him.

your boobs bounced as you jumped on his cock; that sight only adding to his pleasure. you placed your hands on his chest to support yourself, seeing his eyes roll back in his head as he felt you tighten around him; he thrust up into you, hitting that perfect spot again and again.

"yeah... so fucking much," he answered, panting heavily.

"such a naughty boy..." you cooed, a smug grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "but i love it."

you looked closely at him; he was completely flustered, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"you look so fucking pretty underneath me, enzo," you complimented him

he groaned, sliding one hand down to rub against your clit roughly, the other one still holding onto your ass.

"don't stop, please." he breathed out, his hips lifting up to meet every downward thrust of yours.

"you close, pretty boy?" you asked him, watching his face attentively as he nodded in response. "you gonna be a good boy and hold it in for me, yeah?" you ordered with a soft voice.

he whimpered, biting his lip harshly. his cock throbbed inside you, aching for release, but his thumb did not stop rubbing circles on your clit; the sensation of his dick pounding into you together with the stimulation on your clit making you weak on the knees.

"yes... I'll be good for you."

"that's my boy," you praised him, struggling to keep up the pace while riding him since your legs had started shaking from the pleasure. "you gonna make me cum, baby." you breathed out, moaning loudly.

you hand had a conscience of its own and moved up to grasp at his neck, applying light pressure on it. enzo's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, your grip limiting his air flow very slightly, but enough to make it pleasurable.

"oh fuck! i'm cumming," he moaned, gritting his teeth.

"hold it," you commanded, your voice harder that time. "you won't cum until i do."

he moaned in frustration, shaking his head as his hips jerked up into you. "please... i can't."

"just a minute, baby, i'm almost there," you promised, whimpering while your pussy started clenching around his cock as your orgasm built up.

you kept riding him until you finally fell over the edge, letting out a long string of soft moans and whimpers while your whole body shook. you leaned into his body, your hands gripping at his skin as pleasure washed over you.

"oh gods, enzo," you moaned, "you can cum now, baby."

as soon as you gave him permission, he came with a loud whimper, almost a cry, shooting his thick cum inside you in long spurts, your pussy milking his cock as both of your rode out your highs, holding onto each other tightly.

he panted, leaning his forehead against yours, his heartbeat slowing down as he tried to catch his breath.

"that was amazing."

"pretty good for a first time, huh?" you chuckled, out of breath too, while caressing his back and shoulders; your bodies were completely pressed together.

"fuck yeah... let's do it again," he laughed, grabbing your hips to push you onto the mattress; your body bounced slightly.

"enzo!" you giggled, but your playful laugh soon turned into a moan when your best friend buried his head between your legs.

you had definitely created a monster... you weren't complaining, though.

[va1entinesg4l]

one too many bites

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: After launching his new ice cream, Charles had another flavour that was made just for you.

warning: smut!! aphrodisiac, p in v, breeding kink

A few days ago, Charles had officially launched his new ice cream brand ‘Lec’ with five different flavours. Hosting a party as well for his guests. But obviously before they got to try his ice cream, you did. His girlfriend always came first and to your surprise, Vanillove was your favourite.

You were back home from work, feeling stressed out when you notice an ice cream tub sitting on the table. Red? Charles never launched this. You furrowed your eyebrows as you called out for him, “Charles?” Suddenly you felt a pair of arms wrapped around your waist as the sound of the french accent rings through your ear. “Good evening, mon ange.”

His chest pressed against your back as he kisses the back of your neck, making you giggle quietly.

“What is that?” You gesture to the ice cream on the table and he replied with a grin, “Just a gift for my beautiful girlfriend.” You knew Charles liked spoiling you with gifts, no matter what it was.

You held the tub of ice cream up as you say in confusion, “It’s red. You never launched this.”

“That’s because i didn’t. It’s a treat just for you and i to share, mon coeur.”

“Love Potion. Really?” A giggle escaped your looks as you read out the name he gave the ice cream and he just gave you a sly smile. If only you knew.

Both of you share bites of the ice cream together, the first bite was blissful, it tasted like raspberry with a hint of vanilla, bits of chocolate inside that you seemed to enjoy. Charles was glancing at you every now and then as if he was searching for a reaction.

And with each bite you took, you felt your mind fluttering. You placed the spoon down and so did Charles when he notices the aphrodisiac starting to kick in.

“You okay, y/n?” He knew damn well what he was doing, seeing how he started rubbing your thigh slowly to tease you.

You mumbled incoherently before you ask, “What’s in the ice cream?”

“Just raspberries and choc-“

“I know but..” You trail off, your gaze staring at Charles’s lips, you felt heat starting to grow inside of you. You didn’t know what was happening but all you thought about was how you wanted Charles to bend you over and fuck you. For him to cum inside of you. And before you knew it, you moved on top of Charles, your lips on his as you start to kiss him.

He grips your ass as he rolls his hips against yours and you could feel his cock beneath his jeans. Your fingers move to his hair, running through them as you bit down on his lip hard, making him groan.

It’s been months without sex since you were both so busy with work. Every time when Charles had persuaded you for sex, you would start pushing him away with excuses like ‘I have work to get done.’ or ‘I have a meeting.’ He needed to get you distracted, away from work.

Never would he ever thought the recipe would work. A recipe he found online that could increase your sex drive, arousing you in just 10 minutes. He definitely owed his team a lot.

He then lifted you up from the couch to the table, laying you down before moving down to kiss your breasts, sucking on one of your nipples.

“More, Charles.”

The single word sent blood running to his cock and without a second, he slides his jeans down, lining his cock to your pussy before sliding in.

You let out a shaky breath at the sensation before he starts thrusting his hips against yours. The table shaking with each thrust.

Your fingers dug into his biceps when you felt his cock deeper and deeper inside of you, his hand pressed down onto your stomach as he felt himself inside of you.

“Feel that, mon ange? Feel how deep i’m inside of you?”

You nod with a whimper. You wanted him to fill you up with his cum, you wanted to see it drip down your leg as you walk. “I wanna feel you cum inside of me, Charles. Knock me up with a child.”

Charles groans at your words, cumming inside of you. You let out a cry and you arched your back, his load filling you up. His body falls on top of yours as he catches his breath. He kisses your sweaty cheek, his cock still buried inside of you. With you in his arms, you fell asleep right away from the ice cream that Charles had made for you.

He chuckled softly as you pass out in his arms, seeing how soft and angelic you were while sleeping and he looks at the tub of ice cream which was left on the coffee table by the both of you, his smile widening.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

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