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justporo · 12 days

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The whisky neat and the strawberries sweet

“Then make me, my love,” Astarion answered, not missing a beat. “Come and get it,” he finished and slowly placed the last strawberry between his lips, grinning. His fangs were bared, contrasting against the deep red of the last piece of fruit.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Let's try again shall we? Tumblr ate this the first time. I listened to "Too Sweet" by Hozier too often and it caused this. What was only supposed to be a drabble turned into a whole thing... I hope you enjoy!

Gif by @cheekylittlepupp (pls follow them!)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with feelings, blood drinking, vaginal sex, creampie, foodplay, aftercare Wordcount: 4,7k Song: Too Sweet - Hozier

~~~

You didn't really know how you always ended up in positions like this one.

But by all the gods, you for sure didn't mind that you did.

Comfortable. You were comfortable in the way you sat on Astarion's lap, straddling him, clad in nothing but a sheer nightgown. The fabric huddled along your body, leaving very little to the imagination. From the clearly visible stiff peaks of your breasts it flowed down in soft lines to where it cascaded into a bunched up mess around your eagerly and widely spread legs.

Astarion in his usual camp outfit, albeit with his shirt possibly open wider than usual, was much more clothed still. But he surely seemed comfortable too.

And if his promising smirk and playfully raised eyebrow as he looked at you wasn't proof enough? Then maybe the way he was pleasantly, almost achingly hard and pressed directly against your heated, throbbing core between your legs was.

And yet you weren't even primarily engaging In anything overtly lewd, at least this far. The two of you were simply talking. Astarion was having a glass of neat whisky while you were indulging in a bowl of perfectly sweet strawberries.

You talked about every- and anything, whatever came to each of your minds. While Astarion kept sipping on the liquor out of his fancy crystal glass and you popped deliciously sweet fruit into your mouth.

Or, occasionally bucking your hips to get a little rise out of the other - a gasp, a groan, a telltale involuntary twitch - or a bottom lip caught on a fang with crimson eyes shortly rolling back into the skull and then a blissful smile.

The two of you played that little game. Trying to get the better of the other, all while trying to maintain a somewhat civil conversation.

As civil as any conversation could be when your slick cunt was pressed against your vampire’s dick. And you could barely keep yourself from rubbing yourself against him until you would either see stars explode before your eyes - or Astarion would remember he was a predator after all.

Either end was equally titillating in your eyes.

This little back and forth went on until you eventually proverbially poked the vampire a little too hard. You ground yourself against him as he was just answering a question you had asked him a moment ago, about what his favourite places around Baldur’s Gate were. The snap of your hips was so forceful, your by now obscenely slick core rubbed against Astarion’s hardened length in an almost painful way. You made yourself moan from the friction rolling through you, coiling in your stomach.

The vampire groaned loudly, almost a growl and mid-word, head falling back. He grabbed the wooden armrest with the hand not currently holding liquor filled crystal, until his knuckles showed white even through his already pale skin. It was almost a wonder the wood didn’t crack.

His length throbbed violently. Your clit eagerly echoed it.

You bit your lip as you focused on the feeling, a lewd, wishful sigh left you. The tension was oh so delicious.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Astarion almost hissed at you, a bit breathless. His head had snapped back, staring at you from deep under his drawn together brows. “Because if you are, you are not being very subtle about it, love.”

His tone was slightly angry and a little high-pitched. He was immediately trying to walk it off but you had obviously irked him. But he was merely teasing you. You saw the way the corners of his mouth twitched unwillingly as he took another swig of whisky. And if his attempts at deflections wouldn’t have told you the truth, something else you clearly felt yearning for more of that friction, would have surely done the trick.

You grinned at him with fiendish delight as Astarion tried to somewhat awkwardly rearrange himself in his seat. But with you pressing yourself against him he hadn’t really any room to wriggle.

His ruby eyes narrowed at you as your grin grew broader. Oh, how you enjoyed being on top of things for once - quite literally so.

“Also it is very rude to interrupt someone like thi-” Astarion tried to utter in an offended tone. But interrupted himself once more with a groan when you rolled your hips against him once more. Even more forceful than before.

Astarion’s moan almost became a whimper this time. Long slender fingers darted over and now gripped onto your naked thigh. Not pulling you closer - for now - but also definitely not pushing you off. Astarion’s cock helplessly and desperately jerked from the friction where it was nestled between your legs.

It was a piece of work to keep yourself from huffing and moaning as you were continuously trying to push Astarion into the deep end without being dragged under as well.

The vampire’s head lolled back again for a moment. Then it rolled back around, his expression a challenge now. The vampire licked over his lips lasciviously: eyes glittering like garnets and fangs shining like ivory as he observed you. Precious in any kind of way.

Playtime was over now. Time to face the consequences.

“You vicious little vixen,” Astarion whispered, fingers digging into your flesh until the twinge of it had you throw your head back this time and gasp. The way your back thereby arched drew your vampire’s attention to the way your breasts were now perfectly presented to him. To either behold them like a connoisseur would an impactful piece of art or to devour them like a doomed man would his last meal.

The pale elf’s equally pale eyebrow twitched - as did your clit still drawing pleasure from his fingertips almost clawing into your thigh. If only… a little more…

Quick flicks of the vampire’s skilled tongue over the sensitive buds at the crest of your breasts made either of them perk up even more. Until your nightgown was dangling off them even more, creating soft lines draping down, surely drawing the observer’s eye to them and your now heaving breasts, heavy from lust.

Your hands immediately went to cup Astarion’s head, cradling it as his tongue swirled around the tip of your tits, not even bothered by the thin fabric between you and him. The way your hips started moving came naturally. Just like how you bowed your back even more for your lover. You closed your eyes, easily getting lost in the sensation.

Then, suddenly, sharp teeth dug into your breast, lips shortly closing down around the hardened nipple.

“Oww,” you yelped and immediately resorted to slapping Astarion’s arm in response, pushing him away. Your head snapped back to stare at him.

The vampire just laughed haughtily as he withdrew again, leaning back. He licked just a drop of blood of his lips as he did so.

When you looked down your own body you saw twin pricks that had pierced through the translucent fabric. And beneath it a tiny trickle of blood running down your chest.

In your moment of inattentiveness Astarion had shifted slightly in his seat: now sitting with his legs spread even further, the bulge between them so painfully obvious and palpable for either of you. He was leaning back, arms draped over the backrest. In one hand he was still holding the whisky glass and idly swirling it around while holding it by its rim.

By default your legs were also spread even further now, making it hard to move. And suddenly you were the one feeling a little caught. Good for you, you had found quite the pleasure in being caught by the vampire time and again.

Although that certainly didn’t stop you from leaning forward as much as possible and catching the pale elf’s chin between your fingers, trying to stare him down.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to bite someone without asking?”

Astarion pouted. “Can you really blame me for not being able to resist, darling? It was… low hanging fruit after all,” he mused with a grin.

Your eyes narrowed - considering if you should be insulted by that or not.

Astarion eyed the lonely drop of blood he left behind slowly rounding the curve of your boobs. He angled his head observing its journey. A single strand of white hair fell into the vampire’s face as he was entranced - by your tits and the trickle of your fine red alike.

Lost in thought and the view he lifted the crystal to his lips again. As if unconsciously trying to substitute for what he obviously craved much more than liquor right this moment.

The whisky would have to do.

But before he could take a sip, your fingers wrapped around his and wrung the glass out of them. Inattentiveness really made either of you prone to be taken advantage of. But not to either of your damage.

Before Astarion could protest you took a generous swig of his liquor and slightly shuddered as it burned down your throat. You licked your lips with a grin as you felt the burn leave behind a delicious warmth.

The pale elf’s mouth fell open slightly, eyebrows jumping up. His eyes darkened and twinkled at you as if asking you how you even dared and simultaneously promising you he’d get you back for that one - in that kind of way that would leave you desperately begging for more.

It made your lower body clench as another kind of heat washed through your body. Adding to the throbbing sensation between your legs, lashing it on.

And yet the most you had done was sit there.

Closing your eyes, you tried to regain just a fraction of composure. You had been doing so good in your little game of teasing. How did this godsdamned vampire hold that much power over you that he almost broke you with barely more than a glance?

Astarion in the meantime smiled in content as he took note of how you had to consciously concentrate to keep your wits about you. And also he had located the rest of your strawberries still sitting in the bowl on a small table next to the chair you were both wrapped up on.

Your head snapped back as you felt the vampire’s weight slightly shift below you. With his roguishly quick reflexes you only just saw how your lover had started chewing something. Then he was popping another strawberry into his mouth. And another-

“Hey,” you wailed at him as your eyes darted to the little bowl that was now almost yawningly empty. “Hey stop, that’s the last one!” you continued, grabbing for Astarion’s wrist with your free hand as he was about to devour the last piece of your sweet treat.

His hands wandered to either of your thighs, pushing into them and pulling you closer to him at the same time, spreading your legs even more for him. With your hand not holding the crystal glass you grabbed for his shoulder to try and keep your balance.

Lightning jolts shot through your body at the sight of your lover. Finding their target in between your legs. Making you involuntarily rub yourself against Astarion’s hard dick again, still comfortably pressed there. Trying to keep the electric energy going. Hoping to turn it into a constant current.

Heat was pooling everywhere in your body now at the promise Astarion’s eyes made you.

He didn’t need to be able to speak to lure you to him. Astarion leaned in a little closer, the delicate lines around his mouth deepening when his smile grew predatory. And you leaned to him, your cheeks and whole body flushed, keen to accept what he offered: the lamb willingly falling for the wolf.

But then an idea flashed through you. Acting quickly, so you wouldn’t second guess yourself, you took a small sip of whisky, keeping it in your mouth.

The vampire’s eyes sparked at you, immediately catching onto your plan. A small strained gasp worked its way around the strawberry still in between his teeth to get past his lips. The fangs dug into the flesh of the fruit ever so slightly at the strained sound. And at your core you felt his dick twitch once more.

You were both in for a treat.

With a chuckle and the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one holding power you leaned in to kiss your vampire. You slowly wrapped your mouth around the strawberry, lips brushing Astarion’s like a feather in passing - all while your gaze burned into his.

The fruit was crushed between your mouths in an instance. Its red, wet juice ran over both your chins, leaving trails that almost looked like freshly spilled blood. The flesh of the sweet treat was quickly torn and devoured between pointy fangs and more sharp teeth as your mouths worked impatiently to get around it. To get to each other - to the real treat.

The whisky had immediately spilled over your lips, down your chin. Only a few drops had actually made it to Astarion’s lips. But it was enough. The rest he could easily taste directly on your lips and tongue, in your mouth. His tongue made sure to get every last bit of it as it slipped between your lips.

The vampire tensed beneath you, his length somehow hardening more, as you melted into him while kissing him; moulding yourself to him as you slowly felt yourself get lost.

Tart sweetness mixed with smoky burning as did tongues and teeth. Remains of strawberry and whisky were already staining your faces and throats, even clothes.

One of Astarion’s hands moved from your legs to the nape of your neck as your mouths moved against each other. He pulled you closer, trying to taste more of you as you let it happen with a yearning moan.

His other hand moved to yours still clenching the crystal glass in its fingers and swiftly took it away, placing it down to free you from it. And when you were, your hands immediately grabbed the vampire’s face. You let your fingertips stroke along his pointy ears, wandering into his curls, deepening the kiss even more. Closing your eyes as Astarion’s rolled into the back of his head.

His other hand sneakily went to your ass and with a gentle push made you grind against him once more. And then again, until you took up the rhythm on your own. All while you kept kissing, now exchanging moans, gasps and other lewd sounds spilling from your lips. Passing them back and forth between you.

And when only traces of strawberry and whisky remained on your tongues, you broke away from each other. You were both panting and worked up to the point where it had become almost painful.

You stared into each other’s eyes that were void of anything playful now. The need in them was real.

Your hands cradled your lover’s face as his gaze was almost glassed over - from lust. Different from other times where his eyes had betrayed to you that he was a thousand planes of existence away.

But now he was here with you, almost violently so. The only thing Astarion was dreaming of was you and how your body seemed made to be squeezed against his. And the electricity between you was so strong you knew lightning would inevitably strike both of you.

The fruit had left Astarion messy, red stains smeared all around his chin and throat. You were used to the sight by now although it usually were less tame things than strawberry that left him in disarray. And as the yearning inside you reached a boiling point you felt the urgent desire to offer your vampire the real thing. Turning him into a whole mess in the process - in every kind of way possible.

You bowed down to him, seeing his eyes sharpen at you closing in. And nothing but a hair breadth away from his lips you stilled, reining in your boundless desire for Astarion.

“I need you, Astarion,” you whispered to him, your quivering lips brushing his as you spoke. Your breath caressed his face making his eyes lose focus as they rolled widly once more at your confession and your closeness alike. “And I want you.”

“Incidentally,” he murmured, voice raspy and promising, reminiscent of strawberries mixed with whisky, “I want you too, my heart.” His hands on your behind, fingers spread wide, squeezed hard. “And I need you even more.”

And so you let the reins slip from your hands. Your lips crushed with his again as four hands were busy to grab hold and get rid of what was still in the way.

Astarion fumbled with your already ruined nightgown. Trying to pull it up but getting distracted by how soft your skin felt along his fingertips or how your curves shifted lazily with the roll of your hips or how your fingers felt beneath the hem of his shirt.

After a few unsuccessful tries his already short tempered patience got the better of him. He just clawed at the damned fabric and tore it apart, tossed it away with a growl, breaking your passionate kiss shortly.

His short-circuit action shortly took your breath away as you felt the garment ripped off your body.

You stared at him, now fully bared before him. Crimson predator eyes took you in and couldn’t stay harsh at your softness. The moment drew out as he lovingly gazed upon you and you used it to let your hand flutter to the top of your breasts then along the curves of them, drawing a line with your fingertips. Astarion watched carefully, an almost unwilling gasp escaping him.

Then another roll of your hips, rubbing yourself against him with a moan. You threw your back into an arch, repeating the motion more vigorously, grinding yourself against Astarion’s still fully clothed but not less needy body. His pants were already a mess, you knew, caused by your slickness and his yearning cock alike.

Astarion kept eagerly staring at you as you worked yourself against him. His long fingers wandered over creamy soft thighs, wrapped almost fully around your delicate waist and then up your sides, sliding over your back as you threw yourself into them. You were melting for him while you felt the tension inside you grow. And your lover kept observing you, how your body moved like light waves hitting a sunbathed beach. His lips curled up further into a sinful grin as he felt you come closer to the peak: the shift of your hips becoming more ragged, your breaths heavy and raw.

Meanwhile your hands toyed with the hem of his already wide open shirt, tugging on the strings, wandering beneath the hem, caressing his chest as he had become almost a statue beneath you. But his stillness only betrayed that tension within him grew as well.

But then you wanted more. Without halting the movements of your body against his you urged him to draw his shirt over his head. And when he enthusiastically obliged you immediately thanked him by pressing your soft, warm tits against him.

Astarion couldn’t remain still anymore. Eyes glossed over again as he delighted in your body dragging against his naked, smooth skin now. Your hands were in his hair. And as if you weren’t already treating him enough you let your head loll back and dragged the vampire’s already parted lips to where they could immediately pick up the rhythm of your racing heart.

His fangs pressed cooly against your skin making you shudder from the sensation. Gasps filled the air. You felt Astarion’s lips press a kiss to your exposed throat. And a moment later the sharp pain of his fangs breaking your skin made left you breathless and made claw your hands into his curls.

He drank from you and you stilled. You needed to feel how with every swallow he took of you, his dick moved in unison.

And it made you both yearn to finally feel it in an even more intimate way.

Your fingers moved to unlace Astarion’s pants, making quick work of it. The sensation of his erection being freed and immediately being caressed by your deft hands made the vampire quiver. His focus was shortly broken and you felt some hot blood run down your throat. But who could blame him when you began stroking his aching cock like this. You saw how wetly his length was already glistening and felt how generous amounts of precum spread all over it beneath your hands. He really did need you.

Astarion groaned as he tried to pull himself together, licking up the spilled blood. But two different beasts were battling within him right this moment, each eager to get their fill. And both needed to be sated.

“Darling,” Astarion murmured against your throat, “you’re killing me for good.” His hands were on your ass now, squeezing it with spread fingers and urging you to move up on him.

You kept working his cock harder and you pressed yourself up on his lap slightly, obeying his silent plea.

“Good,” you replied, catching his eyes for a moment as his lips still remained lightly on your throat. “I hope it’s a pleasant way to go.”

And Astarion groaned, confirming it.

With your fingers still wrapped around his length you positioned him against your obscenely wet core. You moved your hips, making his head drag along your hot, slick folds, but not allowing him to enter you just yet.

You did it once, twice, feeling your clit and his cock in your hands throb each time. Then Astarion had enough of you teasing him. With his hands firmly holding onto your ass he pushed you down on him until he was buried inside of you to the hilt.

He began fucking you while you still tried to get used to the sensation.

Astarion started a relentless rhythm, aiding you riding him by dragging up your hips and letting them slam into him with his hands digging into your ass. All while he thrust up into you, hitting deep every single time. He praised you, whipping you on with words almost as sweet as strawberries. And the burning warmth inside you was even greater and more deliciously numbing than a sip of neat whisky.

Oh, this wouldn’t take long. The long, lascivious build-up had made sure of that.

You felt the waves grow higher while your moans grew increasingly unhinged. Already you were bracing yourself to be dragged under as you felt Astarion’s sweet nothings dissolve into senseless groans of pleasure.

But then suddenly, you felt Astarion’s hot mouth wrap around your hard nipple again - the one he had teased before. While your orgasm was already on the horizon and rushing towards you quickly, you felt another sting of pain as the vampire’s fangs broke the sensitive skin of your breast a second time.

In the meantime, a hand had wandered up your back and you felt how Astarion wrapped strands of your hair around his fingers before starting to tug on them.

He began eagerly sucking on your boob, striving to get more of the aphrodisiac that was your blood. Meanwhile his skilled tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, swirling around it.

He kept pulling on your hair, having you bow back while riding him and Astarion kept drinking from you.

The continuous jolts this sensation sent through your already helplessly writhing body pushed you even beyond what you had expected.

With Astarion’s mouth closed around your tit and his dick hitting you particularly hard and deep you dissipated fully in his hands. The vampire pushed you far further over the edge than you'd ever thought possible.

As if drifting out of your body for a while as your orgasm shook through you violently, your core clenched around the vampire buried as deep inside of you as anyone ever was.

With an obscenely wet sound he had to let go of your nipple as Astarion came just as forcefully, balls tightening before he spilled inside of you. Your bodies worked eagerly - clenching, jerking, giving, taking - to make the most out of it.

The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths as you both rode out the waves of your orgasm.

After, you collapsed on Astarion's lap who held you so carefully as if suddenly he felt you'd shatter under his touch. Your arms felt weak now as you wrapped them around your vampire, your legs started to tremble from the almost impossible tension they had endured before.

Your lover only carefully moved you to withdraw from you as he softened. He kept showering you with small kisses and soft reassuring mumbles while he gave you all the time you needed to safely come down from your high.

It took a long while until you were sure you were fully inside yourself again.

“I love you, Astarion,” was the sole thing you trusted your voice to utter because Astarion kept uttering sweet nothings into your ear. His hands were rubbing a comforting rhythm over your back, your chests pressed together, sticky from sweat. Your forehead was leaning on his shoulders, eyes closed.

The vampire softly laughed and patted your back: “I love you too, Tav.”

“Come on, darling, let’s get you cleaned up and into something warm,” he whispered after a few more heartbeats of comfortable, exhausted silence into your ear.

You lifted your head slowly from his shoulder, took one look at how blood was practically smeared all over Astarion’s face and only snorted. But the vampire took it only with another chuckle and began to rise with you in his arms.

He carefully sat you down on the nearby bed, quickly grabbed a cloth and warm water and cleaned you softly. Astarion took special care of where he’d bitten you, spending extra time cleaning the small bite wounds - pressing a kiss on them after.

Slowly you began talking again while Astarion took care of you and you regained your wits but felt exhaustion and blood loss catch up with you.

Astarion continued to carefully pamper you, washing every part of your body with the cloth, almost massaging you. Then quickly cleaning himself up while you were taken over by a big yawn. You were ready to sink back onto the bed and be wrapped up in your lover’s arms as you would slip into your dreams.

“You owe me a new nightgown, Astarion,” you uttered between yawns trying to stay upright - at least until your vampire was finished with the aftermath of your little evening adventure.

The vampire pointedly lifted an eyebrow at you: “But why wear a nightgown if you could just sleep naked?”

You had no power anymore to argue. So you used your remaining energy to stare angrily at your vampire until he stood up with a smirk and returned with his discarded shirt in hand.

“Alright, my dear, I’ll get you a new one,” he promised with a wink. “But for now this will have to do, I fear. I hope you can overlook it was previously owned by me, darling,” Astarion mused and handed you the shirt which you quickly threw over your head. It smelled of his usual scent: rosemary, bergamot - and whisky. Your eyes darted to where the crystal glass with the rest of Astarion’s drink had been forgotten and smiled. Then you drew a deep breath in, closing your eyes. With this you could do.

You clambered further onto the bed then, making yourself cosy as Astarion undressed to climb into bed with you

“You also owe me some strawberries,” you continued as you stretched out your arms towards your lover who you felt was taking too long to join you.

Astarion snorted as he climbed towards you and wrapped you into his arms.

“You’re awfully demanding, darling, you know that? What about my wasted drink?” he replied with a smirk in his voice as you had already closed your eyes, feeling his comforting presence wrapped around you.

“Hm yes, you can get yourself new whisky too,” you mumbled and were already drifting off to sleep.

“Alright then, my sweet,” Astarion answered as he heard your breath deepen already. “A nightgown, whisky, strawberries and whatever else your heart desires, my darling Tav.”

~~~ If you enjoyed this you can support me by reblogging this! You can also support me on Kofi (pinned post on my profile)! ~~~ Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @miss-rebel-without-applause

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #bg3 #astarion bg3 #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion x mc

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c0eu4 · 4 months

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OP81 | Valentine's Day evening

Summary: McLaren had the wonderful idea of revealing the new car on Valentine's Day evening..

Warning: a lot of teasing, blowjob but not that much described.

A/N: I'm not going to say that I'm back because it would be a lie. I know it's a bit random after not posting for more than one month. Take care of yourself 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST request are close

She climbs on his lap, straddling him. He lifted her dress up, rubbing his hands against her hips. She rubs herself against the prominent bulge on his pants, his fingers digging in her hips through her dress. As they were about to go further, Oscar's phone rang. He ignores it, turning it in silent mode. But his phone vibrates again.

He sighed, picking up the phone. She mutters an incomprehensible swear and Oscar gently pats her thigh, as if to remind her to be polite.

''Lando what do you want?'' His voice doesn't let anything show, so she moves her hips a little to make him react. He bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, trying not to moan into the phone. She doesn't hear what the British is saying but it seems like he's annoying Oscar.

''Yeah yeah we'll be there in 10.'' He said, annoyed. ''Yes Lando!'' He hung up like that, Lando visibly irritated him. She tries to move her hips again, but Oscar puts his hand on her hips, stopping her.

''We have to go.'' He took her off of him, pulling down her dress. ''But I thought we had time ?'' She follows Oscar like a poor puppy who nobody wants to play with. He put on his coat and handed hers to her. ''Lando wants us to be here earlier.'' She puts on her coat. ''And you're listening to him?'' She takes her purse, checking that there is everything she needs inside.

''Boss order.'' He opens the door to her, following her outside and locks the door behind him. The cold of winter makes him shiver. He doesn't understand how she manages to be in a dress in the middle of February.

He runs towards her, putting his hand on her lower back. He opens for her the door of the car and closes it behind her. He sits next to her, behind the wheel and starts the engine. He started to drive, with both of his hands on the steering wheel because of the people everywhere in the city.

They finally arrive at the highway, allowing him to place his hand on her thigh. He caresses her thigh tenderly, his fingers drawing random patterns.

Eventually, they arrive at their destination, already surrounded by journalists around the car. Oscar comes out first, his hand leaving her thigh against his will. Journalists are already taking photos of him but he doesn't take the time to pose, preferring to go and open his beloved's door. He holds out his hand to her, she grabs it and easily gets out of the car. He closes the door behind her, his hand in hers.

She's not really used to McLaren events and all this makes her uncomfortable. He's used to it now. But it still makes him uncomfortable too.

Oscar dragged her towards the red carpet. They can't avoid it. Even if they would love. Eventually, they can breathe a little easier after the red carpet, the journalists cannot follow them.

But the people in the private room don't ease their tension completely. They look for their seat, find it quickly and place their stuff in front of their name label.

Hopefully for Oscar, he's next to Lando. Y/n, her, she's next to someone unknown. It promises a wonderful night.

''Oscaaar, my dear friend!'' Lando knows how to be unnoticed. ''I thought you'll never come.'' They sit down, waiting for the event to start.

What a long night for y/n and Oscar. The person next to y/n is so boring. She keeps talking, without letting time for her to answer. Oscar sees that she's starting to be annoyed and tries to help her by teasing her.

He rubs her thigh, going higher than normal. His fingertips wander throughout her inner thigh, sending shivers down her spine.

''Are you cold? Because if you are, Did you know that if two people are naked against each other, it's very hot?'' Y/n don't take the time to listen to her, trying to focus on not moaning.

She bites hardly her lower lips when Oscar talks to her ear. ''Wanna go to the bathroom, mh?'' Y/n stands up abruptly, heading towards the bathroom through the crowd. Oscar follows her closely, managing to grab her hand.

She locked them in a bathroom, Oscar pressing her against the wall in front of the door. He nibbles her neck, making her moan.

''You're so neddy.. my poor pretty girl..'' He bit down her collarbone, leaving a few red marks. Her hands tug at his suit and his hair, like she wants to be even more connected to him. The friction of his bulge in his pants against the crook of her legs drives her crazy, but she restrains herself from moaning too loudly.

He slams his lips against hers, their teeth collide. They laugh softly before Oscar kisses her again. His hands caress her body in every corner, making her feel good, ''Oscah, you're gonna kill me.'' She whispered to him, her voice as soft as music.

He sucked the skin of her neck, not worrying about the fact that it leaves reddish marks there. She lets it happen, tilting her head to the side to give him more space.

Suddenly, she grabs his hips and makes him turn around, pinning him against the wall. She tries to grin herself against him but she's too small to feel his now hard length against her needy pussy. She hastily undoes his tie and opens the first buttons of his shirt to bite his neck as if she hadn't eaten for several months.

He moaned loudly as she kissed that spot under his ear that he loves so much, his hands gripping hardly her hips, almost leaving bruises. She grabs his cock and kneads it through his pants, making him roll his eyes back, his mouth wide open in a 'o'.

''Y-Y/n! s-stop!'' He moaned in a high pitched voice, ''I'm gonna c-cum in my pants.'' He said, almost crying from holding back his climax.

She quickly gets on her knees, undoing his belt hastily and pulling down his pant and boxer at his middle thighs. She doesn't wait even more to take him in her mouth and in less than two minutes, his eyes roll back once more, his hot and thick seed filling her mouth.

She quickly cleans him with her tongue and lets him get dressed. He kissed her one last time, almost tasting himself on her lips.

They face the mirror, and that's when they realize they shouldn't have.

Y/n's makeup is ruined by the blowjob she just gave. Her hair is a mess, red marks all over her neck and her lipstick all over her mouth. As for Oscar, it's not any better. Her shirt is all wrinkled, lipstick marks all over his face and neck.

''I'm gonna kill you.'' The young man said as he started to panic, already thinking about all the scandal there is going to be. However, Y/n laughs at the situation.

''I have makeup in my bag.'' She looks at her man as she reaches her hand up and tries to arrange his hair.

''But your bag is at the table, isn't it?'' She nodded slowly and started to think of a solution. ''You have your phone?'' He takes it out of his pocket. ''Call Lando then.''

Oscar shakes his head as a no. ''No way he sees us like that.'' She giggles at his reaction. ''Oh c'mon babe. You prefer all the photographers to take pictures of us like that?'' The man sighed and eventually called Lando, who joined them with the bag of Y/n without asking questions. He knocks on the bathroom door and Oscar opens it for him and locks it right away.

''You save me from that girl, she can't stop talking I swear.. What you both were doi-'' He doesn't even finish his sentence as he burst in laugh, seeing Oscar looking at the floor and playing nervously with his hand. Y/n, her, grab the bag from Lando's hand, rummage throughout it and take out some makeup.

''Osc, come here.'' She ignores Lando's child attitude as he has a hard time to calm down. ''You both are that needy?'' He asked between laughs. Oscar approached the young lady and she started to apply a yellow base on all the red marks on his neck.

''wow, she literally ate your neck, mate.'' The British boy said as he looked at his teammate's neck. ''Shut up.'' Answered Oscar, his face red from embarrassment.

Y/n keep covering Oscar's neck, until all the red marks aren't visible anymore. She does the same on her neck while her boyfriend fixes his clothes and his tie. She also fixed her make up and her lips until both of them were like before.

''I can't see nothing.'' Said Lando as he observed their neck attentively. ''You're a pro of makeup Y/n.'' Joked Lando. ''I just have the habit with him.'' She teased him as his cheeks got back to red.

''C'mon Oscah, I know you're not that shy.'' Lando gently hit his shoulder as he opened the door for them to get out.

The three of them go back to their table, where they refound that one lady who's already annoying Y/n again...

698 notes · View notes

wreckedandpolemic · 2 months

Text

white and gold - matty healy

(mdni) in which you become both entangled and enamoured with your father's boss. 13007 words.

warnings (buckle up): 18+, problematic age gap, masturbation, corruption kink, slight exhibitionism, praise, degradation, heavy daddy kink, slight dumbification, unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), filth filth filth filth filth!

Your heels click against the tiled floor as you stroll across the lobby of your father’s office, giving a winning smile to the familiar security guard as he waves you through. Humming along to the song that plays over your headphones as the lift rises, you wonder idly why your father wanted to have lunch with you today; he had been oddly insistent that morning. The doors ding open and you step out into the office, fairly quiet at lunch hour. Men in suits mill around, their gazes catching on you and darting away so they can pretend their lurid thoughts aren’t painted plain as day on their faces.

Scanning the room, you don’t immediately spot the man you’re looking for. On a closer look, your father’s thinning hair and crisp suit are nowhere to be seen. Strange, again; he’s always here to meet you when he wants to take you out for lunch. Your searching gaze lands on a man heading for the lift, the sight of him arresting, practically rooting you to the spot. Greying curls haloed around a sharp, handsome face, lips plush red. A silver hoop shines in one of his ears, standing out against his dark hair. The designer sunglasses that sit across the bridge of his nose should be obnoxious, but he wears them louche and rakishly charming. He’s younger than your father, but not by much; probably nearing twice your age. You don’t recognise him — you know everyone who works for your father practically inside and out, and you’d never forget a face like his.

Suddenly, he’s in front of you, and you’re blinking dumbly at the material of his expensive suit. “Are you lost?” he asks, his voice low and alluring, wrapping around you like a caress. The sunglasses block your view of his eyes, leaving you unfairly unable to tell whether he’s reacting to you the way you are to him.

You swallow thickly, fighting to find your voice. “No,” you say confidently. “Well… kinda, I guess?” you add with a laugh. “I’m looking for my dad.” You offer his name, and he nods in recognition.

“Ah— My fault, that. Sorry, love,” he says, voice softening on the final syllable in a way that has you biting the inside of your cheek to get your racing heartbeat under control. “Kept him late in a meeting.” You nod absently, distracted as his tongue flickers out to wet his lips and leaves them pink and glossy. Hopefully you aren’t wearing your thoughts too obviously on your face. “Matty,” he offers, holding out a hand.

You take it politely, surprised at the calluses scraping against your palm. He doesn’t look the type for hard work, the very shape of him insouciant, privilege scented on him under the smell of cigarettes and expensive cologne. The weight of his hand in yours as Matty holds your gaze for just a split-second too long feels charged, tension welling between you. After a beat, you give your name and Matty quirks an enigmatic half-smile that you just can’t get a read on. You wonder what kind of picture you’re painting for him; ribbons in your hair, skirt short enough to tease without any promise, socks biting into the flesh of your thighs. Your soft pastels boast innocence, a clean sweetness begging to be ruined where the sharp lines of him are rough around the edges, something dark tightly controlled under his easy smile. The pair of you are incongruous, yet symmetrical somehow, an artist’s rendition of impropriety.

The coolness in your palm when he lets go feels like a physical loss, your entranced gaze lingering on his face for another brief moment. Then he gives a cursory nod and strolls off, the spell breaking and leaving you stock-still as if you’ve been doused with a bucket of cold water. His name rolls around your head as you pick your way to your father’s office; Matty, Matty, Matty, like a litany, the concurrent chime of warning bells going unheard, or maybe just ignored.

Your father smiles up at you when you enter his office, getting up as if to hug you and stopping awkwardly short. He doesn’t know how to act around you, a consequence of the years of long hours and late nights that afford you your lifestyle but cost you a family. You make clumsy small-talk on the drive; he asks you how uni is going, you ask about work, he forgets the names of your friends, you remember the names of his. The same circles you always talk in. It’s never unpleasant, but always stiff, artificial.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you,” he says once you’re seated in a quiet corner of your favourite restaurant. He remembered that about you, at least. “I was in a meeting that ran long.”

You try not to visibly perk up at the reminder of possibly the most gorgeous man you’ve ever met. “Oh, yeah,” you say, feigned casualness layered over your tone. “I met the guy you were with on his way out. Who was he? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.” Your father pauses briefly, and you wonder if you’ve laid it on too thick, showed too much interest. But you know your father couldn’t reconcile the idea of you being interested in one of his coworkers with the image he holds of you as his little girl.

He sits up straighter, adjusting his tie in the way he does because he thinks it’ll lend more gravity to his next words. “It was actually a very important meeting, or I wouldn’t have let it run as long as it did. It was with the VP of the company, Matthew Healy.” He nods self-importantly. “Very nice chap, honestly. I convinced him to allocate us more budget next quarter, which means that…”

You tune out the rest of his corporate jargon, letting the new information you’ve gleaned rattle around your brain. Vice fucking President. The scandal you’d cause selfishly thrills you more, because who could gainsay it, really? Sure, your father would have some choice words, but he’d keep them to himself in public for the sake of his job. You almost giggle picturing the vein that would throb in his forehead, and then remember yourself and focus back into the conversation right as your father finishes talking.

The waiter who has been hovering a tasteful distance away seizes the gap in conversation to take your order. You order without looking at the price, leaning casually back in the booth as you rattle off the name of the dish in perfect Italian. A few minutes later, the smooth, dark flavour of an espresso martini on your tongue, your father finally gets to the point.

He says your name seriously, levelling you with a look that’s laden with meaning over his drink. “I wanted to meet with you today to talk about something.” You nod uncertainly, unable to track where this is going. “Your last year at university is starting in September, and I’d like to know you have somewhere to go when you’re finished. Other people studying your course have been making industry connections and networking for years, and I’m concerned that you’ll be behind when you’re trying to get into work.”

You let him talk, even as you mentally roll your eyes. He’s showing care in one of the only ways he knows how, and you can’t really begrudge him that. Never mind that the idea of trudging to the office every day in a dull grey pantsuit and attending mergers and meetings for the rest of your life gives you the shivers. You open your mouth to bring this up, but pause when he continues. “I know you aren’t sure about using your degree, but there’s a dinner this weekend that I’d like you to come to. Just to see how everything works, show your face, start making yourself a name, hm?”

The refusal sits on the tip of your tongue, balancing there on instinct, but then you consider that this might be your only chance to see Matty again. Of course, he might not even be there, but it’s a risk you’re willing to take. Your thoughts haven’t strayed from him for more than five minutes since you met, he’s a nagging itch under your skin that you just can’t scratch, and you need him. “Okay,” you say, cutting your father off. He goes silent mid-spiel, having anticipated you taking more convincing than that. “Is it black-tie?”

Your father watches you curiously as you sip demurely at your cocktail. “Yes. I’m very happy you agreed,” he adds, the implicit question hanging heavy in the air between you.

With an airy shrug, you set down your glass. “Like you said, I’m not committing to anything. I just get to have a free fancy dinner, basically.” It’s a casual excuse, characteristic enough of you that your father couldn’t even begin to guess at your real motivation. The same waiter suddenly materialises with your food, and you dig in happily.

Over the course of your meal, your father explains the most important figures who’ll be attending, and Matty is among them, thank God. You try, subtly, to pry into his personal life, but come up fairly short; you can’t find a tasteful way to ask if he’s married, although it’s not unlikely, with a face like his. Once your father’s free hour has dried up, he drops you home and you slink off to your room and fall into your bed.

Guiltily, you pull up a private browsing tab on your phone and search matthew healy wife. A grin spreads as you find no results, wider when girlfriend turns up nothing but a string of articles about his latest breakup. Switching to image searching, you scroll through dozens of photographs of him, posed and smiling, this time missing the sunglasses and letting you admire his sweet brown eyes. Then you come across a photo of him giving the camera the eyes, your thighs clenching as he smoulders in a way that feels directed to you, a twin of the look he gave you earlier.

You let your eyes fall closed, your phone thudding against the pillow as your hand creeps under your waistband. The first brush at your clit buzzes bright up your spine, a pleased whine falling from your lips. Instinctively, you dig under your pillow for your vibrator, your other hand tugging your skirt and panties down your legs. You lay in just your blouse and socks, the barest hint of wetness beginning to pool between your thighs.

The sudden pulse of heat as you press the vibrator to your clit is almost too much, your body tensing at the sensation. Your hazy mind conjures up an image of Matty, his spectre watching you touch yourself for him. He’s on you in seconds, the ghost of his kiss almost tangible against your lips, the idea of his calloused fingers running over your skin so real they almost feel like a memory. Rocking your hips, you chase the pleasure that rolls over you, coiling low in your belly. You can almost hear Matty murmuring encouragement in your ear, telling you how pretty and good you are for him.

Body writhing against the sheets, a whimper of his name spills from your bitten lips, pleading as you rub tight circles into your clit. Molten pleasure drips down your spine, sticking in your lungs and melting against your ribs. The phantasm of Matty’s touch trails over you, his hands replacing yours as you thumb over your nipples, moaning at the soft spark of pleasure that flickers under your skin.

It’s not enough.

Your hands are too delicate, too far from the memory of thick veins and scraping callouses that your body craves. Still, you work diligently at yourself, falling into a familiar rhythm. Your motions are perfunctory now, an aside to the fantasy building behind your closed lids. You picture Matty’s sleazy smirk, heat in his gaze as he rubs at you, working you closer and closer, filthy words pouring from his lips. Pleasure burns under your skin, close and electric under the sheets.

The coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, ecstasy rippling through your limbs as you bite down hard to keep a scream at bay. Rolling your hips, you ride out your orgasm, chest heaving as you gasp for breath and twist your fingers in your sheets.

Your face begins to flame as the afterglow wanes, the image of Matty fading and leaving a column of mortification in its place. God, how are you supposed to look him in the eyes after this? Flinging your covers off with a groan, you corral your thoughts into shape and march into the shower. Hot water pounds between your shoulder blades and you scrub at your skin until it’s pink and tender; you still don’t feel clean. It feels, suddenly, like you’re wearing a scarlet letter, like the evidence of your depravity is scrawled over your body in bold, dripping ink.

Still, you can’t stand under the shower spray forever, and the endless slog of summer reading you have to do won’t wait for your sudden crisis to be over. Taking a seat at your desk, you crack open a textbook and force yourself to stare at it until the words stop swimming in front of your eyes and you can process their meaning. You type up notes with practised ease, almost automatic and scarcely retaining the information. A chill grips you as you remember that this might be the rest of your life.

A self-indulgent fantasy drifts across your mind, and you snatch at it greedily, rewarding yourself for your work with an unjustified distraction. Is it so much to ask that you want a life of ease? To be spoiled and showered in affection, to have no expectations on you? Maybe that makes you a lazy brat, a typical, self-absorbed princess, but you’ve worked damn hard the last three years. At graduation, you’d have your pick of droning, selfsame corporations if that was what you wanted; you’d have no difficulty following your father’s footsteps, letting your own daughter trace yours.

Truthfully, your private desire is much harder. Men that run in your circles want a woman like you, superficially — from the same stock, with your own family money, barely old enough to know who you are. Under the surface, though, you know women like that. They’re your aunts, the mothers of friends and old boyfriends. Unfulfilled, wearing dead-eyed Stepfordian smiles, finding their only pinched joy in passing snide insults dressed up as compliments, laughing behind their hands when their victim du jour takes the bait. No, being one of those wives would be the only fate worse than spending your decades as a spinning cog.

Without your notice, the sun has sunk beyond the horizon, a moonbeam slanting through your curtains when you switch your desk lamp off. You slip between your sheets, clad in a thin nightdress and low-waisted underwear, the thoughts that circle your brain winding slower and slower until they slip away like a whirlpool draining from the sink.

The next morning, you really are planning on taking school seriously, in line at a coffee shop with scholarly intent before 9:30. Impossibly, though, a familiar head of curls is waiting in the queue only feet ahead of you. Your heartbeat speeds as you debate whether to speak to him, hands clammy with nerves at the sight of him. You step up to the counter to order, and Matty’s head whips around at the sound of your voice.

“Oh! Hello, love,” he grins, and you smile back, hoping you don’t look as nervous as you feel. “Hey, no, I got it,” he says as you pull out your phone to pay. Matty taps his card before you can even react, then leans forward to address the barista. “Can I get mine for here instead? Is that okay? Thanks,” he flashes a winning smile and your heart flutters.

“Thank you,” you say shyly, toying anxiously with the buttons of your cardigan.

He waves a hand, his smile almost dizzying as he looks down at you. There’s a faint dusting of stubble over his jaw, and you have to force yourself not to get distracted by thoughts of it scraping over your skin. “Don’t worry about it. Always happy to do a pretty girl a favour.” Your knees almost buckle, heat flooding your cheeks as you swallow thickly. Thankfully, the barista calls your orders and Matty goes to collect them, giving you a second to catch your breath. “Is it okay if I come sit with you? Just realised I never asked.” He grins sheepishly, and you practically melt into a puddle. “Don’t wanna distract you if you’ve got work to do, or something.”

“God, no, of course,” you say, suddenly a little panicked at the idea of him leaving. “Feel free. I mean, if you have time,” you add, a last-ditch attempt to feign casualness as you slide into a booth.

Matty sits opposite, observing you with an inscrutable look on his face before he speaks. “I’ve got time. I’m the boss, darling, they can wait.”

Your thighs clench, the casual reminder of his status sending a shudder up your spine as you smile blithely. Neither of you speaks for a moment, both taking in the sight of each other, testing the boundaries of this thing blooming between you. “Do you make a habit of taking time out of your busy day to have coffee with girls?” you say, tone teasing to conceal that you’re truly curious about the answer.

He grins. “Like I said, I do whatever I like,” he says with a shrug. “If I wanted to, I don’t know, spend my morning having coffee with a pretty girl, well. Nobody would be surprised, let’s say.” It’s a non-answer, and you swallow down the jealousy that starts to rise in your throat.

“You keep calling me pretty…” you remark idly, pausing to sip delicately at your coffee before you speak. “I’m starting to think you might have an ulterior motive, Mr. Healy.” You tack on the title with a smirk, leaning forward in challenge.

Matty swallows, slightly unnerved for the first time. “I think you’re pretty,” he says simply. “Don’t have to have any motives. Unless you want me to,” he adds with a smirk.

“And if I do? What’s that say about you, sir? Chasing after a twenty-year-old girl? Quite inappropriate, wouldn’t you say?”

He chuckles softly, eyes darkening. A shock of heat sparks under your skin as he takes your hand, gaze searching. “Very,” Matty agrees lowly. “Good, sweet young girl like you shouldn’t be getting mixed up with me, angel.” Something in you flutters at the nickname, the way it rolls thoughtlessly off his tongue.

“I don’t have to be good,” you say, deliberately widening your eyes and biting your lip in a show of innocence. “I can be naughty. If you want.” You lean back and deliberately pop a button on your blouse, a hint of pink lace peeking out from the gap in your shirt.

Matty tips his head back, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply, eyes closed and trying to compose himself. “What am I going to do with you?” he mutters, more to himself, unable to drag his gaze up from the sliver of exposed skin.

“You’ll just have to keep playing and find out,” you smirk, purposefully leaning forward as you stand to give him a deliberate eyeful. “Have a nice day, Mr. Healy. Thank you for the coffee.” His gaze burns hot into your back as you walk away, and you make a conscious effort not to look back. You’re slightly annoyed as you wander down the street — that cafe is your favourite study spot, and you’ve effectively handed it away. You’ll never be able to set foot in there without remembering Matty’s smirk, his heavy gaze, the feeling of his hand over yours.

So, despite your best intentions, you find yourself spending the morning dipping in and out of stores instead, smiling blithely as your bank account dwindles. In the end, your evening winds up the same as yesterday, mindlessly copying up text without absorbing any of the information. You’re gonna kick yourself so hard when you have to use these notes to take an exam. Giving up, you shower and get into bed, shutting your phone off to sleep at around midnight.

When you stir, you know acutely that you’re dreaming. The bed is your own, the man sharing it is not. “Morning,” Matty says, in a low, sleep-thick voice that seems so real you can scarcely believe your mind conjured it up. He kisses your nose, your cheek, the hollow of your throat, but never your lips, as if your subconscious is saving the memory for the real thing.

“Hi,” you giggle, savouring the heat of his body against yours, willing yourself still for fear of the barest shift ruining your dreamscape. Matty’s hands run over you, one taking a firm hold of your ass, the other pinching gently at your nipple.

You whimper, and he gives a mocking pout. “Needy, hm?” You nod, eyes wide and pleading, and he cups your pussy, your hips rolling as you chase your pleasure against his hand. Arousal drips out of you, soaking your panties as Matty grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. Your head swims in pleasure, distracted and flailing as the dream blurs around you. Whining, you try desperately to grasp onto the vestiges, convinced that one last touch would have brought you there.

Eyes twitching open, morning light slants through the crack in your curtains, a gentle kiss over your sweat-slick skin. Embarrassingly, like you’re a hormonal adolescent again, there’s a throw pillow wedged between your legs, desire soaking into it through your ruined panties. An experimental thrust of your hips sends a scattered, delicious burst of pleasure up your spine, but you refuse to indulge yourself, already humiliated without feeling that sudden, crushing guilt again.

Once again, you force yourself under a punishingly hot shower, and once again, you can’t scrub yourself free of the sin. It becomes something of a routine; three more nights you dream of him, and three more mornings you try your hardest to melt the flesh off your bones in an effort to forget. The fourth night, the day before you’ll see him again, your sleep is mercifully dreamless, though you still wake with him on your mind. You stand in front of your wardrobe, hands balanced on your hips as your gaze darts between two dresses.

You need to be stunning, fuckable in a way that caters to Matty’s tastes perfectly. The amount of time you’ve spent scrolling through pictures of him with old girlfriends would surely be impressive if it wasn’t embarrassing, but it’s helped you narrow your choices down to two options. There’s a wine-red number, the thigh slit so high it practically bares your ass and the neckline plunging almost to indecency — it’s reminiscent of how his last girlfriend dressed, simple, dark elegance, deep hues paired with bold, striking makeup. Then, there’s a floor-length, pastel-pink silk gown, evidence of the virtue you’ll pretend to possess until you can show him just how dirty you can be.

The second dress speaks to you, more similar both to your own style and that of the youngest girl he’s ever dated. She was still older than you, though, you think wryly, four years ago twenty-three to his thirty. That being said, you wouldn’t be surprised to find he’d fucked every college girl from here to Edinburgh whose father had so much looked at her askance once. The thought sends a ripple of jealousy through you and you shudder, picturing dozens of faceless girls under him until you want to tear your hair out. The man practically has you in a chokehold, and you’ve met him once.

Your rational brain knows it’s crazy, that the idealised version of him built up in your mind means he’ll only disappoint, but you’re almost sure you’ll get a good fuck out of it at the very least. More, if you play your cards well enough.

With ribbons in your hair, silk gloves over your hands and a string of pearls at your throat, you pose in the mirror, practising your teasing pout, your innocent smile, the eyes that say please, sir, let me make you feel good. Your mother shouts your name, and you follow the sound down the stairs and across the foyer, smiling blithely at your parents as they take in the sight of you.

Okay, maybe you’ve laid on the innocence too thick, your makeup subtly widening your eyes and faintly flushing your cheeks. But there’s nothing technically wrong with your outfit, so your mother simply heaves a sigh and leads you out to the car. You arrive perfectly, politely on time, pose quickly for the few cameras and take your seats. Wait staff linger discreetly around, filling champagne flutes thanklessly, as if they exist on a plane below the guests’ notice.

You have to bite back a grin when the placard beside the empty seat at your table reads Matthew Healy; by some magnanimous twist of fate, he’ll be directly across from you, giving you an excuse to gaze at him as long as you like. He’s late, but only fashionably so, smirking and doling out insincere apologies as he saunters to the table. You don’t stand until everyone else has, playing clueless as Matty greets everyone around the table politely.

When he reaches you, his eyes flicker over you in a way that has your knees threatening to buckle, and you finally let yourself take him in properly. He looks fucking gorgeous, dressed in another expensive suit, his curls gelled back with that same smell of cigarettes and cologne seeping from his pores. He leans forward, brushing his lips against the apple of your cheek, and you almost moan at the contact your body has been craving for days. “You look stunning, darling,” he murmurs, so quiet that you could almost be convinced you’d imagined it, if not for the dark look in his eyes when he pulls back.

A half smile pulls at your lips as he sits down, one of the ubiquitous, black-clad waiters coming forward to fill his glass. The conversation quickly turns to business you couldn’t care less about, giving the automated, reflex responses to questions you’ve heard hundreds of times. You pay attention only when Matty speaks, the low timbre of his voice addictive even when he’s not addressing you. Emboldened by his heavy gaze and the significant looks he fixes you with each time his eyes land on yours, you slip a stockinged foot out of your shoe and trace it across his calf. His eyes widen a fraction, and he raises his glass and an eyebrow in your direction, his gaze laden with promise.

There’s still time before any food gets brought out, and after a few minutes, Matty offers to take you on a spin, introduce you to some of the more important people in suits that are clustered around the room. Your father preens, convinced you’ve made such an impression in the bare moments you’ve held your own in conversation that he wants to mentor you, or something. You accept gratefully, his proprietary hold on your arm falling low to your waist as soon as you’re out of your father’s sight, the heat of his palm splayed over your hip hard to believe. “Let me get you a drink,” he says, steering you to the bar. The crowd parts around him, conversations going quiet like he’s some kind of divine figure, taking a nod and a brief greeting like a blessing from on high. “You’ll need one to deal with this lot,” he adds, jerking a thumb at the gathered crowd, still murmuring awed in his wake.

Smiling, you take a seat at the bar, letting Matty flag down the bartender before you speak. “What’ll you have, darling?”

“Surprise me,” you grin, batting your eyelashes teasingly at him. “So, you hate this stuff, huh?”

Matty huffs a surprised laugh as the bartender pours him a glass of top-shelf red and hands you an Aperol spritz. “Is it that obvious?”

You take a long, slow sip of your drink, watching the way his eyes fall to your lips, pursed around the straw. “I don’t think so. Not to anyone here, anyway. They’re all too worried about what everyone else thinks of them to worry about what anyone else is thinking.”

Something shifts in his expression as he takes in your words, suddenly appraising you critically as a person with thoughts, rather than just a pretty face he wants to take to bed. And he does. Want to take you to bed, that is. His eyes are wide, dilated, his tongue unconsciously wetting his lips more often, his gaze trained on your face so it doesn’t fall further. “Beautiful and smart,” he says finally, leaning back in his chair, all at once dropping the intensity and sinking easily back into irreverence.

“I try,” you say with an artfully careless shrug, letting one of the thin straps of your dress fall from your shoulder, enjoying the way Matty’s eyes trace the movement. There’s a dance in this, a skill; overt flirting between the pair of you, a casual, if laden, conversation to an observer.

“I want to do bad things to you in that dress,” Matty says, low and sudden, a bolt of arousal striking you at your core.

You match his tone. “Like what?”

“The kind of things a man like me shouldn’t be thinking about doing to a girl like you.”

“So, why don’t you?” you challenge, a flicker of carefully masked surprise crossing his face as you drop your facade of naïveté. “There’s always somewhere private at a party like this,” you say, implication heavy in your tone, spreading your legs slightly and licking your lips.

A muscle jumps in Matty’s jaw, jealousy and lust warring in his expression as he pictures you crowded up against a bathroom sink, mouth parted and eyes glassy. “S’that what you’re used to? A quick fuck in a bathroom with some pathetic boy?” He leans close, delivering his next words slow and quiet. “I’m not going to do that, princess,” he says with a disparaging scoff, the sobriquet sending heat pooling between your legs. “Have you ever fucked a man, angel?”

Swallowing your moan, your thighs clench as you whisper, “No.”

“Good. Means I get to show you how it should really feel. Because when I fuck you for the first time, I’m going to make you fall apart for me. Piece by pretty, perfect piece. Shall we?” he adds, standing and offering you a hand without giving you any time to process his words.

You swallow thickly, accepting his hand and standing on unsteady legs. True to his word, he introduces you to what feels like an endless string of people. Their faces all blur together, your body working on autopilot to churn out pleasantries as your mind turns over Matty’s words, spinning them over and over like a coin set on its edge.

“Stay right here,” you whisper to him as he starts to head back to your table, and you’re pleased to find when you return from the bathroom that he’s obeyed. As discreetly as possible, you press the scrap of lace you peeled off from under your dress into his hand. The sound of his choked-off inhale is infinitely gratifying, and you savour his gaze at your back as you stride away, a deliberate sway in your hips.

By the time you’re back at the table, a thick wedge of business cards is tucked neatly into your purse to be left there and forgotten about until you shake them onto the floor the next time you need the bag. All but the one sitting on the very top, with Matty’s personal number scrawled on the back. He doesn’t take his eyes off you all through dinner, his hand dipping into his pocket at every free moment, the knowledge that his fingers are running over your panties driving you wild. Your legs cross so you don’t start dripping on the seat as you throw pleading glances at Matty every chance you get.

You practically chase him to the bar as dinner winds down, draping yourself over him as much as you dare. “I need you,” you whine, pressing a hand to his inner thigh, feeling the heat of him through his suit trousers. “I can’t wait anymore,” you plead, as close to begging as you can get without prostrating yourself on the floor in front of him.

Matty laughs, condescending. “Needy girl,” he pouts, crooking a finger under your chin. “If you were anyone else, I’d take you home right now, fuck all of these people. But we can’t have that, can we?” he teases. “Because you’re a good girl, yeah? And what would people think, good girl like you all spread out for a dirty old man like me?”

A pathetic whine slips from your lips, lust overtaking you even as the gears start to turn in your mind. “Take me home,” you beg, pulse hammering in your throat at the very prospect. “I can make an excuse, say I’m meeting friends or something. I’m a big girl, they won’t care as long as they don’t know where I actually am. Please?” you pout, leaning so close that your breath kisses across his lips. “I’ll be so good for you, I promise.”

And Matty is only a man, with a man’s self-control. He’s had a few more years to refine it, but he’ll never be immune. “Go on, then, sweetheart. Make your excuses and meet me out front, yeah?” He gives your ass a firm slap as you stand, the brief flash of pain melting into sticky desire that hums under your skin.

You spin a lie to your parents, some story that your friends are in a bar a few streets away, and surely they don’t mind if you slip away just a few minutes early? Honestly, they’re ecstatic you stayed as long as you did, waving you off with unsuspecting smiles. Then, before you know it, you’re in a taxi with Matty, your thigh pressed against his, one of his hands tracing a pattern into your skin. You crowd closer to him, struggling to breathe as lust swallows all the air between you.

He stays teasingly out of your reach, tutting softly when you chase his lips. “You promised to be good for me, princess,” he admonishes, trailing his hand further up your thigh. You obey, squirming as you fall back into your seat, his fingers cruelly close to where you need them. “Good girl. You want me to touch you?” Matty murmurs, leaning in to breathe the words against the shell of your ear, a shudder rolling up your spine at his closeness. You nod, bating your breath as his fingers find the wetness between your legs. “Nice and still for me, yeah, darling?”

Pleasure floods you when the pad of his finger finds your clit, the gentle scrape over your sensitive nerves somehow blinding, your hips rolling as you chase the sensation. “Matty, please,” you moan, pouting pathetically when he takes his hand away.

“You’re not being very good, love. Still, remember? You can sit and keep your hands to yourself until we get home, understand?” You nod, sinking back in your seat and sulking. “Don’t be a brat, princess,” Matty chides, closing his lips around his wet fingers, sucking your arousal off them with an exaggerated moan. “Just a few more minutes and I’ll give you what you need, yeah? Sweet, needy girl.”

You flush at the praise, at the way he can switch from gentle to commanding and back in a second. Your blood is thick with desire, heart working in overdrive to pump it through your body. Then, with no ceremony, the end of the most agonising minutes of your life is signalled by the crunching of gravel under tyres. Matty leads you into the house, his control on a tight leash until the door clicks shut behind you.

He all but slams you against it, crowding into your space, his breath hot on your lips. His smell of cigarettes and cologne envelops you, fills your lungs, dizzying and intoxicating. “Please?” you whine, and he finally, gloriously obliges. Your lips crash together, a messy slide of spit and teeth and tongue that leaves you bruised and begging.

Matty’s hands fall to your ass, squeezing hard at the soft flesh, pliant under his touch as his nails bite crescent-moons of desire into your skin. “Can you jump for me, baby?” he asks, breaking away from you just long enough to breathe the words against your lips. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist, your dress hiked up so far that it bares your cunt as Matty grips you by the thighs.

Pleasure spreads slowly through you as you grind yourself against him, his lips falling to your neck as he carries you up the stairs, a squeal escaping you as he tosses you on the bed. He stands at the foot of the bed, breathing hard, greedily drinking in the sight of you. “Take that dress off. Now.” His tone leaves no room for argument, practically puppeteering you, expensive silk crumpled on the floor before you can even react. “Gorgeous,” Matty murmurs, one hand coming up to unbutton his shirt. “Can you touch yourself for me? Wanna see how to make you feel good.”

“Uh-huh,” you murmur, eyes fixed on the inches of skin being revealed, a covering dragged off a masterpiece. Dark ink peeks from the V of his shirt, dissonant from the toned, marble skin surrounding it. Impatient, you dip two fingers into yourself, the familiar stretch sending heat shooting up your spine. Gasping, you pinch at your clit, rolling it between two fingers, hips rocking as you moan wantonly up at him.

“Good girl. Does that feel good, princess?”

“Not as good as you,” you pout, fucking yourself desperately on your fingers. “Daddy,” you add, watching that final thread break, Matty’s eyes going dark as he collapses on the bed above you. He kicks off his trousers ungracefully, tugging your hand up to his lips.

His warm mouth closes around your fingers, sucking the taste of your desire off them with a moan. “Such a dirty little girl, dressed up all innocent like that when you just wanna be ruined by your fuckin’ Daddy.” His clothed cock grinds against your aching, soaked core, the contact achingly close to what you need, and yet agonisingly far. “You taste so good, angel. Want me to eat that sweet little pussy of yours?”

Your mind swims at the thought, his skilled, clever tongue buried between your legs, your hands tight in his curls as he devours you. But that isn’t what you need. You shake your head. “Want you to fuck me,” you say, the simmering well of desire endless in the pit of your stomach. “I need it. Please?”

“Oh, sweet girl,” Matty croons, shoving his boxers down his legs. You watch his cock spring free, thudding hot and sticky against his belly. “You want my fingers first, or can you take me all by yourself?”

The subtle condescension sets you on fire, liquefying your brain and sending it flooding down your spine, dripping out of you onto the mattress. You reach down, wrap your hand around him and pump slowly, swallowing his quiet hiss against your mouth. “I can take it, Daddy,” you promise, wide, innocent eyes turned on him.

The stretch when he enters you burns gloriously, your mouth falling open in a perfect, round ‘O’ of ecstasy. Matty fills you slowly, burying himself to the hilt, so deep that you can practically feel him rearranging your insides. “Such a good girl, takin’ all of me like this,” he praises. Discomposed, his accent thickens, rounding the vowels and blurring the ends of his words. Matty rocks his hips one shallow thrust striking a spot inside you that has your vision whiting out, ecstasy buzzing in your heavy limbs. “That felt good, huh? Yeah. I know, I know,” he soothes, swallowing your whines with wet, deliberate kisses, tongue sweeping every corner of your mouth and teeth grazing your lips.

Matty pulls almost all the way out of you, your body crying out at the loss, then slams his hips against yours so hard you see stars. “M-Matty, fuck,” you whimper, back arching desperately as he fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast, the obscene sound of skin meeting ringing out around you.

“Ah-ah. That’s not my name tonight, princess.”

His hips still, the waves of pleasure subsiding in punishment. “‘M sorry, Daddy,” you whine, bringing your hand down to rub at your clit, bright heat bursting between your legs.

“That’s it, angel,” Matty murmurs, pinching softly at your nipple with one calloused hand. “So beautiful all fucked out for me. I’m the only one who can get you like this, huh?”

Subtle jealousy hums in his tone, his kiss turning possessive as you writhe under him. “Yeah,” you whimper breathily. “Never had it this good before.” It’s not a lie. Your body feels at once wound into a coil and loose on your bones, the point where your hips meet your only anchor to your physical form.

Matty scoffs. “That’s because you’ve only fucked boys, princess. Never had a man before, have you?”

“N-no, Daddy,” you whine, rubbing frantically at your clit, Matty’s rhythmic groans warm against your lips.

His lips fall to your neck, kissing and biting against your tender skin, the scrape of teeth a flash of pain undercutting your desire but gentle enough not to bruise. “That’s right, baby. ‘M your fuckin’ Daddy. Wanna be my girl, huh? Could have you like this whenever you want, never let you worry about anything, ‘cept staying all pretty and cockdrunk for me.”

Oh, God. How does he know? Involuntarily, your legs wrap around his waist, the new angle rapturous as his thrusts continue, long and so deep you practically choke on them. “Mm-hmm. Yeah. Could just be your little toy, never think unless you told me to. Want that so bad, Daddy.”

Matty’s eyes light up, wide and liquid with desire, your heartbeat hammering in your cunt as it throbs around him. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl. You wanna be my dumb little slut, huh? Want Daddy to fuck you stupid, turn you into my pretty fucktoy?” The words turn you to liquid, dripping and sticky under his skilled hands. “Yeah, you do,” he grins, arrogant and cocksure, your mind melting into fantasies of being Matty’s kept girl, of bending over with a smile whenever he liked, of spending your days keeping yourself pretty for him, and your nights split open like this. “I can feel how bad you want that, your pretty cunt keeps squeezing me so fuckin’ tight, angel.”

“‘M close,” you whimper, the words choked from your closing throat, desire clamping down on your body like a vice.

“Good girl,” Matty whispers, one of his hands joining yours at your clit, the pressure suddenly dramatically intense, every nerve in your body firing as one. “Cum for me, angel,” he orders, and your body obeys.

You come unglued from yourself, feel it in your whole body, euphoria crushing the air from your lungs. Your cunt pulses, thumping a sick rhythm in tune with Matty’s thrusts into you. Barely conscious, you feel amorphous, a messy string of liquid desire more than a corporeal girl. WIth a final, low groan, Matty spills inside of you, painting your insides white.

A whine escapes you as he pulls out, the loss tangible in your heavy limbs. “Oh, I know, baby, I know,” he soothes, falling beside you and cupping your jaw to kiss you tenderly.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur shakily, and a soft smile brushes at his lips.

“So polite,” he says reverently. “Such a good girl.”

You pout at him and drag two fingers through your slick, messy cunt, sucking the taste of both of you off your fingers. Matty gasps, eyes wide, and you smile around your wet fingers. “You want more, darling?”

You nod frantically, the fire under your skin still raging, ferocious and uncontrollable. Weakly, you lift your head, transfixed to where his cum trickles out of you, pooling white on the mattress. “We taste so good together,” you tell him, without taking your eyes off your ruined core. “Looks so good, your cum dripping out of me. Want you to finger it out of me. Please?” you add, pouting until he kisses you gently, breaking away to smile against your lips.

“Whatever you want, you’ll get, princess.” His fingers find your hole, teasing at you for a moment before toying with your sensitive clit, a stab of pleasure-pain winding sharply through you. “S’that sore, darling?”

“A bit,” you say, your body lax as he plays with you gently. All the urgency is gone now you’ve both come, the air honey-thick, your breathing slow and deliberate. “Feels good, though.”

Matty’s fingers are broad and thick as he pushes two of them inside you, your soaked cunt accepting him easily. He crooks his fingers, brushing that sweet spot that sets your nerves alight, and begins a slow rhythm. Lewd, wet sounds echo off the walls as you both watch his fingers disappear where you take him, cum leaking out around them.

An orgasm builds slowly at the base of your spine, your body jolting as Matty’s thumb comes up to circle over your clit. He swallows your sudden moan, languid kisses that have your eyes fluttering closed and let you fall into a daydream as he brings you closer.

“Mmm, can I cum again? Please?” you moan, hips rolling down to meet him. Pleasure swims hazy through your head, your blood syrup-thick and heavy with it.

“Can you hold it for a minute, baby? For me? Just wanna watch that pretty cunt of yours taking my fingers a little longer.” You whimper as he curls his long fingers inside of you, trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. “You make such pretty sounds, princess. Tell me who you belong to and I’ll let you cum, okay?”

“‘M yours, Daddy. Your good little girl,” you promise, words coming out slurred, your tongue too thick in your mouth.

“That’s right, baby,” Matty says, encouraging, grasping possessively at your hip. “All mine, yeah? Go on, princess. Cum,” he instructs, curling his fingers against your g-spot and rubbing a harsh circle into your clit in the same, breathless moment.

All the air crushes out of your lungs, white-hot pleasure melting your brain into liquid. Matty croons reassurances as you writhe under him, the thickness of his fingers visceral where you clench around him. You moan his name over and over in a litany, tasting something divine where the word spills from your lips.

You float back down to Earth, blissed-out and smiling, adoration in Matty’s gaze as he watches you. “There you are, sweet girl,” he grins, warm hand stroking gently up and down your side. “How do you feel?”

“God, incredible,” you answer, stretching back and luxuriating against his pillows. “Best fuck I’ve ever had,” you grin, watching his jaw clench at the reminder that you’ve fucked other people.

“Ruined you for other men, have I?” he says, smug smirk pulling at his lips.

“Other boys,” you correct airily. “Men like you know what they’re doing. Maybe you’ve given me a taste for it. Maybe I’ll fuck my way through the office, get all those men you see every day eating out of my hand.”

Matty practically snarls, silencing you with a harsh kiss. “Those fucking pricks couldn’t make you cum if their lives depended on it. Believe me, darling, I’m the best you’ll ever have,” he promises, and you give a quiet giggle. Your eyes are heavy even as electricity still buzzes under your skin, and you yawn, catlike, and settle against his bare chest. “Tired, angel?” he says, a hint of humour in his tone.

“Right shattered me, haven’t you?” you complain, swatting playfully at him. “Can I stay?”

“‘Course, darling. Long as you like,” Matty says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Want me to make you something to eat? Can’t have my girl going hungry after I’ve worn her out like that.” The casualness with which he flings the words my girl sends your heart racing, one of his hands coming up to cup your jaw then trailing up to play with your hair. It’s all so sickeningly domestic, more intimate than when he had you split open and dizzy under him.

“Sounds nice,” you say sleepily, but whine when he moves to get up.

You pout when Matty tugs on his discarded boxers, and he chuckles softly. “What?” he adds as your frown deepens, watching him pull on a pair of grey joggers.

“Was looking at you,” you say sulkily. “You have a cute ass.”

His head tips back as he laughs, baring the sloping column of his neck gorgeously, his curls bouncing with the movement. “Are you objectifying me?” he grins, mock-affronted.

“Yes,” you say immediately, sitting up and tracing your gaze deliberately over his chest, muscles rippling as he breathes. Your attention falls to the tattoo at his hip, half-hidden by his joggers, and the sudden need to taste the skin there overtakes you. “What else is a big, strong man like you good for? Fucking me right and cooking me dinner, and looking gorgeous doing it,” you tease, sucking in a sharp breath when he crosses the room in two strides and catches your jaw in a harsh grip.

“Don’t be a brat, princess. ‘Cause then I’ll have to show you what I’m fucking good for.”

“Okay,” you breathe against his lips, trailing your hand down his chest and thumbing over the tattoo, savouring the way Matty shudders under your touch.

The air under your hand goes cold as he steps away. “Needy girl,” he grins. “Food first, yeah? You want me to bring it up here? Serve my princess dinner in bed?” There’s that my again, one tiny, thoughtless syllable sending a thousand fantasies flickering behind your eyes. “Or do you wanna come down with me?”

You slip out from under the covers and set your feet on the floor, only for your knees to buckle when you try to stand. “Fucked me so good my legs don’t work,” you say with a weak laugh, smiling softly when Matty comes to fuss over you. “Can you carry me downstairs?”

“Here,” Matty says, handing you a shirt and boxers that are probably too small for him; they dwarf you, the shirt swallowing you while the boxers hang indecently low on your hips. At the sight of you in his clothes, he stops still, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply for a long moment. “Look fucking gorgeous wearing my clothes, darling. C’mere, I can carry you if you want,” he offers, scooping you into his arms.

Nestled happy against his warm, bare chest, you notice for the first time how fucking big his house is. It’s almost brutalist, but still homey, evidently lived-in. Framed photographs and prints litter the walls, slightly wilted flowers sitting in a vase atop a gorgeous upright piano.

“D’you play?” Matty asks, catching you admiring it.

“Since I was a kid. Do you?”

He huffs out a laugh above you. “You think I’d have a fifty grand piano sitting around that I don’t play?”

You shrug as best you can, still wrapped in his arms. “My parents have a baby grand that nobody played until I came along. It’s like a status symbol, or something, I dunno.”

“Yes, I play. The guitar too,” he adds, slowly strolling in the direction of the kitchen.

The realisation dawns on you, and your mouth drops in an ‘O’ of understanding. “So that’s why your hands are like that. I don’t know why I didn’t put that together. You’re hardly the type for hard labour.”

Matty laughs, setting you down on the kitchen counter. “You don’t know,” he teases, pressing a featherlight kiss against your cheek. “I could’ve been a mechanic in a past life.”

The thought of him, sweaty and dripping in grease, bending you over the hood of a car, makes your head spin, and he smirks as your jaw goes slack. “I wish,” you grin as he retrieves a pan from an upper cabinet, flexing the muscles in his back gratuitously with the movement. ement.

“What are you feeling like? Eggs? Pasta?” he offers, setting the pan on the stove.

You mull it over for a moment. “Can you make me French toast?”

“‘Course I can, baby.” You watch his hands as he cracks two eggs in a bowl, whisking them together with cinnamon and sugar. He steps between your legs as the bread sizzles in the pan with a healthy spoonful of melted butter, kissing at your neck and jaw. In the light, the fading hickeys scattered over your skin are visible, and he prods jealously at them. “Who gave you these?” he says, gravel in his voice.

Shrugging airily, you smirk up at him. “Some boy,” you tease, Matty’s nostrils flaring as he fights to control his reaction.

“Did he make you cum?” he asks, nails biting possessively into your hips.

“We didn’t get that far. Just made out on the couch. He was a good kisser, though.” At that, Matty captures your lips, kissing you slow and deep, the lingering taste of red wine filling your mouth. The kiss is hard, almost aggressive, like he’s trying to forcibly erase the memory of any kiss you’ve ever had. He bites gently at your lower lip as he pulls away, not hard enough to sting, but enough for you to read the message in the action. “Careful. Don’t burn my toast.”

A mumbled fuck makes you giggle, and he turns to flip the bread in the pan. “Don’t worry, angel. Still perfect.” He watches you as he speaks, wide brown eyes liquid and luminous, framed by delicate lashes.

Still, if he gets to be jealous, so do you. “Do you make midnight snacks for all the girls?” you ask, swinging your legs back and forth off the counter.

“Can’t say I do, darling.”

The implication of his words thuds hard in your chest, a warm flicker of hope striking to life like a match under your skin. “What’s so special about me?”

“Good girl like you deserves the princess treatment. ‘Specially from a dirty old man like me,” he grins, sliding your toast onto a plate. The sudden reminder of your age gap, of the scandal you’d cause if even a whisper of this got out, sends a shuddering thrill up your spine. Matty hands you the plate, topped with icing sugar and drizzled with syrup, and you tuck in eagerly.

He picks up a pack of cigarettes from the counter, eyebrows going up when you go to reach for one. “What? I’m not always a good girl.”

“Oh, I know, love,” Matty smirks, lit cigarette dangling indecently from his lips. “Can’t have you ruining your pretty lungs, though. Here,” he says, pulling deeply on the cigarette and then pressing his open mouth to yours. Grey smoke curls from your parted lips as you suck in the smoke greedily. He shotguns you half the cigarette, your head light as the nicotine buzz hits.

You drink in the sight of him as you eat, taking advantage of the light to appreciate the finer details of him. The gentle glow of the cigarette where it sits between his plush, pink lips, the joggers obscenely low on his hips, the V of muscle that points tantalisingly down, a light trail of hair disappearing into his waistband.

“You wanna go back to bed, angel?” Matty smirks, the air between you shifting as he meets your gaze, eyes darkened.

You scoff. “Bed’s boring. You have this whole fucking house, and you wanna take me back to bed?”

Matty crowds close to you, stealing a kiss and dropping to his knees. “Alright, princess.” His fingers dig into your hips as he eases his boxers off you, dipping his head to kiss at your bare thighs. A filthy smirk spreads wide across his lips as he looks up at you. “You’ve eaten. Now it’s my turn,” he promises, and your giggle turns to a moan when his tongue meets your centre.

He devours you like he’s been starved, lapping at your still-soaked cunt in a toe-curling rhythm. A sudden flash of pleasure-pain strikes sharply where his teeth scrape at the tender flesh of your thigh, sucking and biting hard enough to bruise. A quiet moan tumbles from your lips, and you squeeze your thighs around his head to urge him back to your cunt. Obediently, he wraps his lips around your clit, the pressure at your sensitive bundle of nerves making your head spin. “C’mon, princess. You make such pretty sounds, I know you can be louder than that.”

Matty sets a dizzying pace, tongue-fucking you with fervour. Burying your hands in his hair, you shift so you can rest your legs over his shoulders, the new angle letting him drive his tongue even deeper inside you. Heat roils in your belly, winding around your organs, entangling sweetly with your veins. “Fuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips against his face wantonly. “Feels s’good, Daddy,” you moan out, gasping as Matty curls his tongue perfectly inside you, white-hot pleasure buzzing up your spine.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs and tilts his head up to look at you, his lips and chin practically dripping with your slick. He sucks another bruise into your sensitive skin, kissing over the mark apologetically. Your skin is on fire, tension pulling tight in all your limbs at once. “Taste so fucking good,” he moans, kissing softly at your cunt, his laugh ghosting over your skin as you flutter needily in response. “Could spend the rest of my fuckin’ life between these pretty thighs, darling.”

Your head is hazy, barely coherent thoughts drifting in and out, an incomprehensible plea falling from your lips. Matty won’t let you get complacent with a rhythm, switching between broad, flat strokes over your cunt, deep thrusts into you and sucking on your clit so fast it deliriates you. “‘M close,” you whine, tugging hard on his curls as ecstasy builds at the base of your spine. “Wanna cum for you,” you add, a hint of begging in your tone.

“Say please, darling.” The words vibrate gloriously in your cunt, a shock of pleasure rolling over you.

“Please, Daddy, I wanna cum. Need it so bad,” you plead, whimpering when he scrapes his teeth over your clit, fighting to hold your orgasm at bay until he gives you permission.

“Go on, princess. Cum for Daddy, yeah?” The words are all you need, a string of obscenities interspersed with breathless moans of his name tumbling from your lips as pure euphoria overtakes you. Hot pleasure cascades over you, racing down your spine and along every nerve in your body. You writhe against Matty’s mouth, half-convinced you’ve left your body behind, made of pure sensation.

Boneless, you slump backward, sure you could fall asleep on the cool granite of Matty’s kitchen counter. He catches you, steadying, and gathers you back into his arms. “Thank you, Daddy,” you smile up at him, curling into his chest.

The thump of his heartbeat is soothing as he picks you up again. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs fondly. “Now do you want me to take you back to bed?” he adds, grinning teasingly. He carries you back to his room, laying you softly against the pillows and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Just need you awake for a few more minutes, sweetheart. Need to get you cleaned up, then you can sleep, yeah?” He’s so tender, speaking softly and petting your hair for a moment before he fetches a damp cloth. Running it softly over you, he makes soothing sounds at your pained whimpers. “I know, baby, I know. ‘M sorry. Just a little more, okay?”

You’re half-asleep by the time Matty climbs into bed with you, sweeping your hair off the back of your neck and kissing softly at the skin there. An arm drapes over your waist, the pressure warm and soothing. “I wanna be your girl,” you mumble, more than half-asleep, barely conscious of the words as they slip unbidden from your lips. You’re unconscious before you hear his reply.

You’re sore in the morning, momentarily disoriented by the weight of a body in bed with you, before last night comes flooding back and you smile to yourself. “Morning, princess,” Matty murmurs, voice low and sleep-thick in your ear.

“Good morning,” you smile, stretching out your muscles and arching your back. Matty hisses as your ass meets his hips, his hardness pressing against you. “Oh, very good morning, hm?” Turning to face him, you reach down, slipping your hand under his waistband to palm his cock. He twitches under your touch, a sleepy moan falling from his lips as he rolls his hips into your hand. “Wanna suck your cock,” you murmur, his reaction visceral in your palm.

“Such a sweet girl,” he says, sliding his boxers off as you climb over him. You kiss his neck, the hollow of his throat, working your way down his chest. Indulgently, you bite a bruise into his chest, a twin to the ones that litter your thighs. You trace your tongue over the tattoo at his hip, his body shuddering at the sensation. His cock twitches against your lips as you press a kiss to the head, the taste of salt filling your mouth when you lick your lips.

You mouth at him teasingly for a moment, needy whines filling the air above you. Having power over him this time is intoxicating, and you hold his hips down as he tries to thrust into your mouth. “Not so fast,” you grin. “Keep still and hands to yourself, remember?” Matty swears softly as you repeat his words back to him, hands fisting in the sheets.

Teasing him for a few more moments, you kiss at his lower belly, smirking as he trembles under your lips, cock drooling. The moan Matty lets out when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock is obscene, low and keening, and you dip your head to take him in deeper. “That’s it,” he murmurs, threading a hand gently in your hair. “C’mon, sweet girl, just a little further. I know you can take it, angel.” The encouragement sends a shudder through you, liquid pleasure pooling between your thighs.

Obediently, you relax your throat, sinking further until your nose meets his skin. “Good girl,” Matty says. “Good fucking girl, takin’ me so well. So fuckin’ pretty all stretched out around my cock.” Saliva pools under your tongue, dripping helplessly from the corners of your mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, thrusting gently into your mouth. “Such a pretty slut, fuckin’ drooling on my cock.”

You pull off him, a string of saliva connecting your skin for a split-second. “‘M your slut, Daddy. Can go harder, if you want,” you say, wrapping your hand around his cock, spit-soaked and dripping, and pump slowly. You lave at him for a moment, licking messy stripes over his cock before taking him all the way in one motion.

Matty groans, bucking his hips. “You want me to fuck your pretty mouth, huh, angel?” His hand tightens in your hair as he thrusts into your mouth, the stretch in the corners of your mouth gorgeous.

“You can do better than that,” you murmur. “Want it hard. I won’t break. Unless you want me to,” you add with a grin, moaning around his cock as you swallow him back down. Finally, gloriously, Matty fucks into your mouth, sets a deep, punishing pace. He pulls you by your hair, the sting in your scalp divine as he uses you; you let yourself slip out of your body, sinking into the warm, fuzzy feeling of being his toy.

“That’s right, baby. Fucking made to take my cock, yeah? Good little girl just wants to be Daddy’s cocksleeve.” The filthy words wash over you, thighs clenching as arousal thrums low in your belly. Wetness pools between your legs and you slip a hand down your body to rub at your clit. The soft spark of pleasure grants you the briefest relief, and you moan around his cock. He’s losing control, the movement of his hips turning sloppy as your throat burns raw. “Fuck,” Matty hisses. “Gonna cum, angel.”

“You wanna cum in my mouth?” He nods, transfixed by your flushed skin and spit-slick lips. “Say please, Daddy.”

He moans, long and low, as you take him back in your mouth, swallowing around him. “C’mon, princess, I wanna cum in that pretty mouth of yours. Fuck, I need it.” He fucks your throat wildly, heat firing through your body, sensation cascading over you. “Please?” The word sounds delicious falling from his lips, sliding sweetly across your brain as you moan around him. With a final groan, he spills in your mouth, a cry of your name tearing from his throat. His cock pulses in your throat, the salt of him filling your mouth as you swallow obediently. “That’s it, take it all. Such a good little cumdump for me, princess.”

You pull off him, sitting back on your heels with a grin. “Did I do good?” you ask, pouting down at him.

You’re only teasing, but when Matty meets your gaze, chest heaving and eyes lidded, and murmurs, “So good, princess.” A gush of heat floods between your sticking thighs. “Where’d my good girl learn to suck cock like that?”

Falling back onto his chest, you give him a wicked smirk. “I told you already, Daddy.” You shift your hips, grinding your soaked cunt against his cock and whining at the soft buzz of pleasure that lights under your skin. “I’m not always a good girl.”

He groans, rolling his hips against yours. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, baby.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to the tattoo in the centre of his chest. “The elderly and their weak hearts,” you scoff, hissing when he pinches the flesh of your ass.

“Oi. Be nice.” Rolling your eyes dramatically, you mime zipping your lips. His fingers wander between your legs, anticipation thrilling under your skin as he finds your clit, the rough pad of his finger scraping against your sensitive nerves. “So wet, princess. Does being my little cocksleeve turn you on, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you murmur. “Feel a bit gross right now, though. I wanna shower first.” Matty grins, a vision of you naked and dripping wet from the shower playing out so clearly on his face that you can practically see it reflected in his eyes.

You hop up on the bathroom counter as Matty runs the shower, rinsing your mouth out with mouthwash and leaning over the sink to spit it out. Matty does the same, then steps between your legs, and you cross them instinctively behind his back. He catches your lips, mint taste mingling in your breaths as you kiss open-mouthed, hot and messy. Distracted, you lose yourself in the kiss, forgetting why you’re in the bathroom at all until the air is thick and cloying with steam.

Matty breaks away from you and helps you to your feet, tugging his shirt up over your head and discarding it to the floor. He can’t resist a greedy handful of your tit, gazing down to where the flesh spills over his fingers. “Pretty girl,” he murmurs, walking you backwards until you’re stepping into the shower.

You pull him under the spray, curls sticking to his forehead as the water soaks him. His hands trail over your body, grasping at your wet flesh as you press yourself needily against him. His cock is hard against your belly, heat pooling in your core as he pulls you in for a wet kiss. Matty grips your thighs, your head spinning as his tongue sweeps your mouth. “Jump up for me, sweet girl,” he says against your lips. “I’ll catch you, don’t worry.” Something in your chest catches as he smiles earnestly down at you, and you force it down before it bubbles out of control and something incriminating slips from your lips.

Obediently, you jump up, your legs tangling around Matty’s waist as he crowds you against the shower tile, his nails biting at your thighs where he holds you in place. You moan against his mouth as you grind your hips down against his stomach, a soft buzz of pleasure growing where your skin meets his. “Daddy, please. Want your cock,” you whine, steam curling around your bodies as you grasp weakly at his wet skin.

He laughs softly against your lips, angling your hips carefully as he lines up his cock. Torturously slow, he lowers you down, pleasure rolling hot under your skin from the point where his hips meet yours. Your cunt throbs, stretched wide around him as Matty moans against your neck. “God, this fucking cunt drives me crazy. Made for this,” he groans as he bottoms out, hips flush under the warm spray of the shower.

“C’mon,” you whimper, clenching your cunt around him and rolling your hips. “Fuck me. I need it,” you beg, scraping your nails down his back.

His cock twitches inside you, the barest flicker of sensation sending a pulse of heat thrumming under your skin. “Needy girl,” he says, clicking his tongue condescendingly.

“Please, Daddy,” you moan, writhing in his arms, the plea on your lips breaking into a whine as he pushes into you agonisingly slow. Your head thuds back against the tile as your eyes slip closed, hot pleasure coiling between your legs as you clench your cunt around him.

Matty groans as he bottoms out, your legs locked around his waist as you pant into his mouth. “God, takin’ me so well, princess. Look so beautiful while I’m fucking you like this, fuck,” he praises, his words sending heat rushing to your cheeks. His head falls to suck and bite at the flesh of your tits, pain blooming into bliss under your skin as he fucks into you slowly.

You moan desperately, scrambling for purchase against his wet skin. “More, harder, please,” you whimper, rocking your hips as arousal pools in your cunt and drips out over him. He laughs darkly, and you shudder slightly, wondering what you’ve let yourself in for.

“Harder, huh?” he murmurs into your neck. “Whatever you want, princess.” It’s the only warning you get before he lifts you and slams you down on his cock, your hips meeting hard as he strikes deep inside you. He fucks you wildly, the slick heat of his body pinning you to the wall as he mouths at your neck, his breath hot on your skin. Incoherent moans fall from your lips, your head hazy and distant, pleasure welling hot under your skin.

His lips come up to cover yours, swallowing your wanton moans greedily, the faint taste of mint on his tongue as he licks into your mouth. “God, such a good girl,” he murmurs. “Wish you could see yourself, baby. Such a pretty little cocksleeve for me.” Arousal drips between your legs, mingling with the water soaking you, your cunt throbbing at his words. “You like that, princess?” he asks with a soft laugh, subtle derision cascading down your spine. “Little slut. Wanna be Daddy’s pretty toy, yeah?”

You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. His rhythm doesn’t slow, your grip on sanity slackening with every pulse of heat in your cunt. “‘M yours, Daddy,” you manage to get out around broken moans.

“That’s right, princess.” He’s practically dragging you up and down on him, using you like you really are a toy. “Gonna be a good girl and cum for Daddy, hm?” Your legs tighten around Matty’s waist as one of his hands leaves your hip to play with your clit. The rough scrape of his calloused finger over your sensitive bundle of nerves is too much, and it barely takes another minute before your world shatters.

Your scream echoes off the tile, cunt pulsing as your blood burns with ecstasy. Heat floods every nerve in your body, bone-deep pleasure swelling under your skin, incessant gasps and whines falling from your lips. Matty’s brutal pace never slows, chasing his own pleasure, silencing your whines with his mouth as you squirm against the overstimulation. “‘M almost there, baby. Just a little more, takin’ it so well, princess,” he assures you, rhythm sloppy and faltering as he gets closer. Your name spills from his lips in a groan as he pulses inside you, ropes of cum dripping sticky down your insides.

“Fuck,” you murmur, whining as he pulls out and gingerly setting a leg on the floor, testing whether they can hold your weight. Matty’s hands hover at your waist, ready to catch you if you slip, and you stretch up to press a grateful kiss to his lips.

Matty pulls you fully under the shower, reaching for a bottle of shower gel and soaping his hands. “Feeling good?” he says, cocky smirk playing on his lips.

“Mhmm,” you sigh happily, settling against his chest as he runs his hands slow and tender over your body. In your blissed-out state, you barely notice your next words as they slip from your lips. “Wish it could be like this all the time.”

Matty croons softly, brushing a thumb over your nipple and kneading at your tit. “Wanna be my sweet girl forever, hm? I’d love that, princess,” he murmurs, the fantasy rooting in your mind despite how obscenely ridiculous the idea is — you’ve barely known him a week, for Christ’s sake. Something about him makes you feel safe, though, secure. Like you’ve known him for years — although, maybe not, given the circumstances. A moan slips from your lips when Matty digs his thumbs into your back, working the tension free from under your skin as your eyes slip happily closed. He cleans your cunt gently, smirking at the cum stringing between his fingers and swirling down the drain. “Can I wash your hair?” he offers with a soft smile.

Your chest feels distended, bloated with an affection you know you shouldn’t be feeling as you nod, the scent of his shampoo maddeningly comforting, sickeningly familiar. Matty’s skilled fingers work over your scalp, a quiet kind of bliss rolling over you as you relax into his touch. Stepping out of the shower, your hair scrunched up in an old t-shirt of his that he swore he didn’t care about getting ruined, you can’t hold back a pout when he wraps a towel around his waist. “Hey, no, what do you think you’re doing?” you gasp, suddenly distracted as Matty starts to bring a towel up to his hair. Puzzled, he stares at you blankly as you snatch it from his grip. “Gonna ruin those pretty curls if you keep doing that,” you tut. “Here, sit down. Let me spoil you for a second, okay?” You’ve never felt so cared for by one of your hookups, even by some of your boyfriends, so you seize a chance to return the favour.

Obligingly, he sits on the closed toilet seat, letting you advance on him with a tub of obscenely expensive hair gel. He smiles softly, leaning involuntarily into your touch as you twist his curls around your fingers, defining them neatly and admiring the way they bounce back on themselves. You straddle his lap to scrunch the gel into his hair, batting his hand away when he tries to grab your tit. “Behave,” you chide, laughing and stepping away to take in your handiwork. With his hair loose and framing his face sweetly, he looks younger, more innocent, a far cry from the man calling you a pretty little cocksleeve not even half an hour ago.

“What are you thinkin’ about, darling?” Matty murmurs, searching gaze heavy on your bare skin.

You blink, shaking your head as if to clear it. “Just about how I could really go for that breakfast in bed right now,” you grin, teasing to alleviate the intensity in the air between you.

He huffs a laugh. “Think it might be closer to lunch by now,” he smirks. “How about I do you one better? Let me take you out for lunch, yeah?”

Your jaw hangs open in shock. Of all the ways you were expecting this to end, this wasn’t it. “Like… like a date?” A date means something, means being seen together in public, means being more than just a dirty little secret.

“Yeah, princess. Like a date.” He smiles fondly. “Here, I’ll call you a car. You go home, get changed, and I’ll pick you up in an hour, okay?” Instinctively, you nod, his tone leaving no room for argument even if you’d wanted to. You open your mouth to ask how he knows where you live, the answer coming to you with sudden, shocking clarity. Right. Because he’s your father’s boss.

Well, fuck. That certainly complicates things.

…But it’s not like complicated has ever stopped you before.

#the instalove is instaloving STRONG here loool #why is this longer than my Actual Novel that im writing so far #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 #writing #smut #white and gold

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melrodrigo · 3 months

Text

Secrets - Cairo Sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: Cairo comes to you after she has her first big heartbreak, but finds something other than comfort.

Warnings: (teeny) underage drinking, Cairo has a lot of mood swings, it eventually ends happy!

A/n: Not sure if I hate this but a cairo fic as promised! enjoy <3

When Cairo told you about her crush on Mr.Miller, you were (rightfully) disgusted. He was at least twice her age, a teacher, and wasn’t even that hot.

You thought maybe it was something silly, a joke if you will, to humor you on a particularly boring school day.

But over the weeks, things changed. It was subtle, but not enough for your keen eye to miss. Something in Cairo’s eyes sparkled, a look you’ve never seen from her before.

She would gush about him after class, and during she would stare at him, blatantly, open with her intentions. It was hard for you to watch.

But the worst thing? He stared back.

Weeks of weird sexual tension and seeing them outside of school, you’d grown more and more sick at the thought that this could be real.

Something people needed to know about Cairo was that she was a dreamer. She might seem realistic on the surface, but secretly, deep deep down, she yearned for that fantasy love she was always writing about.

You could kinda understand the appeal, you guess. An older man, a writer. Still, that didn’t stop it from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

So when she came bursting through your door two weeks later sobbing, you hadn’t known that you would realize there might’ve been something else holding you back from being so supportive of her actions.

The minute you’d opened the door she came rushing into your arms. You wrapped her up, rubbed her back as she calmed down.

“Please don’t cry.” You told her, in a way that Cairo felt wasn’t ignorant but comforting. Like you cared so much about her if she cried it might tear your heart apart. The way you were looking at her in that moment, she couldn’t help herself from wondering if maybe you did care for her as more than friends.

You were certainly the character. Her attractive, sweet, considerate friend. The complete opposite from Winnie. More reserved and a poet at heart. Really, she’d never kissed a girl, but she definitely wouldn’t have a problem kissing you.

Before she knows it, or before she can stop herself, she’s tilting her face up and grabbing your hair towards her. The moment your lips touch it’s fire.

She catches the sight of your surprised face for a second before you close your eyes and surge forward, with more weight than she would’ve expected. A weight that’s not at all unwelcome.

The more the kiss escalates the more she feels like needs more. It’s primal. The pure lust she’s feeling.

Her hands tangle in your hair, yours in hers. She leans in to press her body against yours, desperately seeking more skin-on-skin contact.

You happily let her do so, mind foggy with lust and her and her and her.

“Cairo.” You groan into her mouth, unbelieving that this is really happening.

She gives you no indication that she hears it, only takes that opportunity to slip her tongue in, breathing heavily.

It feels so good, and her scent fills your nostrils. The smell you love so much, something of a mix of pinewood and cinnamon.

But there’s something else- a sour smell that’s so strong it almost burns.

You realize all at once what it is. Alcohol. How you didn’t notice it before on her breath was a wonder. It’s enough to break you out of your trance.

“Cairo.” You say, more forcefully this time, pulling away and pushing her down onto the side of your bed.

She whips her head around, confusion and hurt so clear on her face you feel yourself crumble a little.

“What?” She asks, eyes glazing over. There’s conviction in her tone. You know she gets like this, defensive, when she gets hurt. Your eyes widen at the realization of what you just did.

“Oh- no,no,no. I didn’t mean it like that.” You blubber, trying to fix things before she misunderstands. She stares at you hard, squinting slightly.

“You’re drunk Cairo, you don’t mean any of this.” You say, hoping she’ll come to her senses and agree with you.

Even though this is a dream come true, you don’t want to ruin your friendship for one night of bliss. Not to mention she’s drunk, a good deal so, and it would just leave you feeling dirty.

“I’m drunk but I’m very much aware of what I’m doing. What, you think just cuz i’m intoxicated I’ll fuck anyone?” She hisses, inching closer to you, menacing despite her small frame.

You gulp. “That’s not what I said.”

It comes out in a weak mumble. Cairo rolls her eyes. Her annoyance fires up something in you, and this time you speak stronger.

“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re drunk, I don’t want to take advantage of you. Even if you want to now, how am I gonna know you won’t regret it later?” You say, watching as Cairo gets so close to you that you’re face to face.

“I’m not going to regret it.” She slurs, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling.

You resist, but she doesn’t care. Her grip tightens until she’s pulling slightly at your hair. You tell her to stop once but it falls on deaf ears.

“Cairo I’m serious. You’re hurting me.” You plead again, and the voice crack that leaves your lips seem to be the thing that brings her back to life. She blinks once, twice, the brown returning back to her doe eyes slowly but surely.

She retracts, pulling her hands back and looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.” She says, bottom lip quivering. You stay silent, unsure of what to do.

“Y/n I’m really sorry.” She says again, eyes sorrowful.

The mood swings on this girl, you secretly think.

You take her hand in yours, and look into her eyes. You know she’s telling the truth, you know all her tells. The slight quiver of her eyebrow, the way she plays with the nape of her neck. She means her apology.

You sigh tiredly.

“It’s okay, really. Let’s just talk about this later when you’re sober, alright?” You suggest gently, watching her nod her head carefully.

“How about you sleep on my bed today hm? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t want you going home in this state.” You prod, and when she agrees, you move her, softly like you’re handling something that might break at any moment. You settle her onto your bed and under the covers.

“Y/n?” She calls out when you’re fluffing your extra pillows to prepare for your bed on the floor, voice already sounding sleepy. You hum in response.

“Will you sleep next to me? I promise I won’t pull anything again.” And the way she says it, you know you could never be able to deny.

You wordlessly slip in beside her, suddenly rigid with nerves. The feelings you were feeling when she first came in were returning. Could it be that you liked Cairo?

The quiet atmosphere doesn’t help with your swimming thoughts. You don’t think you’ll be able to sleep much next to her, you feel a little tingly all around.

A couple minutes pass by and when you’re sure you’ve heard Cairo start snoring, you try and step out the covers, desperate for some relief of your wildly beating heart.

An arm drapes around your body before you can begin to move, and you peer over to see Cairo with half lidded eyes, sleepily telling you not to go.

You had no choice now- how were you to leave? It was like waking up an adorable animal that fell asleep on you.

You scoot your body closer to her so she doesn’t have to reach for you so much, and try to relax.

Not five minutes go by before Cairo pokes your cheek and speaks again, amusement in her tone.

“Your heart is beating very fast.”

#cairo sweet x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #cairo sweet #millers girl

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inkdrinkerworld · 4 months

Note

Remmy and sensitive!reader who misheard him talking with James and Sirius about something/someone and mistakes it as them talking bad about them. Reader avoiding Remmy for days, avoiding his touch and barely talking to him until he has enough and confronts reader who just breaks down into tears instantly

“No I know mate! It’s so fucking annoying!” You hear the words tumble out of Remus’ mouth with full frustration and freeze in the doorway.

He could be talking about anyone. Right?

James pipes up next, “There’s no way they don’t know they’re fucking annoying.”

Maybe it is you.

“Doesn’t seem like it. They’re just always there. Sometimes some breathing room would be nice.”

You’re convinced now by Remus’ words that it’s you they’re talking about and the frog in your throat swells and tightens your vocal cords.

Silently, you wipe the tears running down your cheeks and make your way to the bathroom.

Remus knows you’re home ten minutes after his phone call when he smells your peach body wash wafting through the bedroom.

“Hi dovey,” his words saccharine as he holds his arms open to you.

“Hi,” you don’t walk into his arms, instead brushing the curve of his shoulder as you go to your closet for your pyjamas.

“Something wrong?” He leans back on his palms, worrying his bottom lip as he watches you change in the closet.

You wonder for a moment how he could’ve been so cruel and now pretend like he wasn’t just complaining to James about how much you’re around him.

“Uh uh,” Remus’ alarms are going off and he stands up, walking over to you now that you’re dressed.

“Dove,” he murmurs, hands holding your thighs. “Are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”

Has he done something wrong? The nerve of him- and still you can’t find it in yourself to do much else than tear up.

“No,” your breathing is quickly becoming labored and Remus worries that you might make yourself faint.

“Talk to me, baby.” It’s the baby that does you in, all soft and honeyed and sugary sweet when his words earlier had been so harsh and jagged.

“You told James that it was annoying that I’m always in your space.”

“What?” His heart stops, mind whirring at the impossibility of your words.

Sniffling you carry on, “I heard you when I came in-“

“Baby, no-“ you cut him off.

“It’s okay to want your own space, sorry for crowding you before.”

God Remus could cry at how small you sound.

“We weren’t talking about you baby, you have to believe that.” His massive hands are cupping your cheeks robe, keeping your eyes level with his.

“You don’t have to lie, Rem,” Your tears are still tumbling down, nose running while you hold your breath. You have a strange feeling this is going to head into, ‘we should break up’ territory.

“I’m not lying, sweet girl. You can call James now if you think so, but I swear we were talking about Frank and his newest fling’s inability to not be all up in each other’s space every five seconds.”

You blink, “So you don’t want us to break up? You aren’t annoyed with me? Because if you are,” you take a shuddering breath. “I can take it.”

Remus tuts, “There’s not a possible timeline where I’d be breaking up with you. Baby, I swear on everything holy and sacred that I wouldn’t ever think let alone speak about you that way. We really were talking about Frank.”

You sigh, tension releasing from your muscles. “M’sorry,” you whimper, shutting your eyes as Remus stamps soft, sticky kisses to your face.

“Nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Remus kisses your forehead and then your lips. “I love you more than life itself, dove. Not a fucking thing I wouldn’t do for you, yeah? Best thing I ever had.”

Remus spends the rest of the night kissing and holding you, he even calls James up to reassure you that he’d never speak about you like that.

James is aghast you even wonder and promise you that if Remus ever lost his mind like that he’d kick his ass.

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x crybaby!reader #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #crybaby!reader my beloved <3

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thedevilspearl · 11 months

Text

wear the hat, ride the cowboy — obey me

a/n: as promised, here are the obey me cowboys with the most votes, sorry it took so long to post ╥﹏╥ dia was originally meant to be included in this but his part got super long and will be posted as a separate fic <3

tags: 2.0k words, female reader x mammon (smoking, blowjob, riding, car sex) + beelzebub (size difference, size kink, riding, mating press). minors do not interact!

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

clouds of smoke blow from mammon’s mouth as he looks down at you. you work wonders on his cock and he hisses as his tip hits the back of your throat.

“what a good girl.” he mumbles in a gruff voice and takes another puff of his cigar. “so pretty.”

he looks out over his ranch as he leans against his truck. you’re on your knees against the ground with your hands digging into his jeans as you face fuck him. his cock fills up your mouth and you pray for this to end with him filling up your pussy too.

you drove out with him to the edge of his ranch this morning to help him fix up a faulty fence. but there was little you could do in your little summer dress and cute cowboy boots. and mammon knew that so he told you to sit back and watch him while he works.

he wouldn’t want you to get your boots dirty. he knows how much you love them.

but as the hours passed under the beating sun, he began to speculate if you ever intended to help at all.

you were having fun sitting in the truck singing along to country music while wearing the hat you stole from him. but he felt your gaze on him; the constant burning on his back wasn’t coming from the high sun, but from your direction.

every time he glanced at you, you had your head in your hands with your elbows propped up on the open window of his truck, eyes glued to him and raking up and down his form as he dug a new fence into the ground.

to make an old cowboy like him blush is not an easy feat. but from the way you watched him closely as he worked on the fence, checking him out until he was sweating through his shirt, mammon felt both adored and turned on.

his cock began throbbing in his jeans and he wondered what kind of things he could do to you in that little dress. while you were benefiting from air conditioning in the truck, mammon’s body was growing hotter and hotter from the thought of you.

and when he was finally done, you jumped out the truck and pressed a kiss to his cheek while he lit up a cigar to relax.

“you worked so hard, baby,” you smile. “you deserve a reward.”

and that’s how you ended up on the ground with his cock deep in your throat. he exhales breathily, resting his head against the truck as you work him up to his orgasm. tension dissolves in his muscles from a simple swipe of your tongue, and before he knows it, he’s shooting ropes of cum down your throat.

the quiet air of the ranch is overcome with his groans and you feel your arousal sticking to your panties as you rub your thighs together for friction.

“is it my turn now?” you pant.

“i thought this was supposed to be my reward.”

“it is,” you grin. “and i’m the reward.”

he smirks in that infamously sexy way and swings open the truck door. as he settles in the driver’s seat, he pats his lap and says “hop on, darlin’.”

with a curt nod bringing your attention back to his hat on your head, know exactly what he means. it’s convenient how every single time you wear his hat, it ends with you riding him at any time and in any place.

he ruffles his hands through his hair while you fidget until you’re comfortable straddling him and he keeps his cigar in his other hand

“ready?” you tease, and wait for his charming wink before pulling aside your panties and sinking down on his cock. “oh my god!”

“not god,” he grunts. “it’s my cock that’s making ya feel good.”

“fuck!”

his hands grip your hips, digging into the flesh as you bounce up and down. you leverage yourself on the wheel, grabbing onto it behind you to hold yourself up while your hips do all the work and it allows you to spread your legs wider.

mammon is wholly enticed by the view, eyes locked on the way your pussy swallows his cock and coats it in a sheen of mixed arousal.

no words are needed. instead, a cacophony of moans and groans fill the vehicle and slowly turns into loud gasps and grunts mixing with the wet sounds of your pussy grinding on his cock.

you bounce with a messy rhythm and his cock hits all the right places, building up the tension in your gut and with one last bounce your body quivers around him. pleasure explodes and ripples through your twitching muscles and your eyes brim with tears.

“mammon!” you scream. “i’m cumming!”

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts. “cum all over my cock.”

he sticks his cigar between his teeth and uses both hands to grab your hips and fuck your trembling body on his cock. you look so pretty in that dress, and even prettier with his cock filling you up.

he rolls his hips slightly, gently fucking you both through the orgasm and his lips attach to the skin of your neck, sucking and biting with desperation.

you lean back gasping, resting against the steering wheel. with your head tossed back, mammon’s hat loses its balance but before it can slip off, you catch it and place it perfectly back on your head.

mammon can’t help but feel amused at the sight, a sense of pride filling his body as his orgasm fades.

he’s never been more happy to lend you his hat.

“attagirl.”

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

the metal bed frame squeaks from your vigorous spirit. bouncing on beel’s cock often feels like a chore because of its sheer size, especially when you’re doing all the work on top.

your thighs burn from lifting your hips up and down on his length. his cock is long and thick, making it more efficient to plant your feet into the mattress next to his thighs and wrap your arms around his neck for leverage as you slam down on him.

but it requires a lot of energy, good cardio and a whole lot of stamina which you’re beginning to run out of.

beel helps you a little, but he’s riled up and wants to see how long you can keep going before timing out.

and despite your aching muscles and desperate lungs, you keep going, working his thick cock in your greedy pussy because you are not one to lose a bet.

a few hours ago, beel had taken you to the local bar for a drink with his buddies where the conversation had naturally turned more adult. and if it wasn’t the talk alone that slowly turned you on, it was everyone’s interest in yours and beel��s sex life.

beel is a big guy. huge. no one could compare to his massive build. and you are significantly shorter than the cowboy, barely reaching his shoulders.

you always thought the size difference was a good thing. you’re at the perfect height to bury your face in his chest. and beel always grabs things from the top shelf for you. you work perfectly in unison regardless of size discrepancies.

but you didn’t realise the size difference meant everyone else would look at you and assume beel does all the work in the bedroom. it apparently fuelled everyone’s dirty minds and the teasing was endless.

they weren’t wrong.

beel does the work in the bedroom most of the time, but a small part of you felt offended by their condescending jokes that implied you were incapable of taking on a dominant role. you looked at beel, expecting him to defend you and tell them about all the times — the few times — you took the lead in the bedroom, but he sipped his drink quietly, letting them continue their joking.

you’re still unsure of what came over you in the moment, but you decided you were in a daring mood and scoffed loudly before saying:

“how about i ride ya tonight, cowboy?” you smirk. “i’ll remind ya how good i am at fucking ya sorry ass.”

beel stared at you wide–eyed and speechless and you swiped his hat from him and placed it atop your own head, earning jeers and whistles from the group.

beel has never been a confrontational person, in small matters at least. but he had no hesitation in grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the bar. the usually long drive passed quick enough as he sped down the gravel roads back to the ranch. and the entire time, his hands reached over the console squeezing your thighs and groping between your legs.

when you arrived home, he hoisted you over his shoulder and marched to the bedroom, collapsing onto the old, creaky bed with a grunt. you’ve told him numerous times to replace the bed because it’s far too noisy, especially when you’re going at it like wild animals.

but there’s always something more important on the ranch that needs replacing and the squeaking bedframe, as irritating as it is, stands as a reminder that any bed, new or old, will undoubtedly make noise as long as beel is fucking you on it.

if anything, the noisy bedframe acts as competition for beel. he’ll fuck you so good that you’ll scream his name loud enough for the bed squeaking to be a long–forgotten thought.

but tonight, you’re stuck bouncing on his cock, disguising your breathlessness as moans and doing your best to hide the pain in your thighs.

riding beel is a workout and a half and you wonder if that’s why he’s always keen to be on top, because he doesn’t want you getting tired, which evidently means you can last longer because right now you’re not sure how much longer you can go on for.

“pussy’s so tight,” he groans, enjoying the different position after so long.

at least one of us is having a good time, you think.

you struggle to find your own pleasure in all of your efforts, and it frustrates you further because you know beel’s cock is teasing all the right places. but instead of focusing on the growing pleasure in your belly, you’re distracted by the exhaustion that comes with fucking a man as huge as beel.

fucking such a big, brawny guy exhausts you as much as it turns you on.

even when you switch from bouncing up and down to grinding your pussy back and forth, it’s far too much work to please the big man.

you can’t take it anymore and you still, collapsing onto him with his cock filling you to the brim, and you both to groan loudly.

“i’m sorry, beel,” you gasp for air. “i can’t go on.”

his big, rough, calloused heads capture your face and he brushes your sweaty hair behind your ear. your face glows from the glaze but he realises how tired you are from your flushed cheeks and droopy eyelids.

“we can stop.” he says simply.

“nuh–uh. let’s keep going. but i’m done doing all the work.”

the corners of his lips rise teasingly and he kisses your cheek, muttering sweet praises into your skin.

“so my little cowgirl ain’t all big and bad like she said?”

“no,” you shake your head with pouty lips. “i need you to take over. please? i’m exhausted.”

“all ya had to do was ask, baby,” he swipes his cowboy hat from atop your head and places it in its rightful place atop his. “guess i’ll be taking this back.”

he effortlessly lifts you, holding you close to ensure his cock doesn’t slip from your pussy, and places you onto the mattress. the frame screeches louder as he ruts into you like he always does — with the energy and precision that makes your pussy quiver in seconds.

“fuck, beel!”

his cock runs along your walls and he grabs your legs, tucking his arms behind your knees as he leans down, folding you in half in the process. it’s his favourite position, having you and your pussy completely at his mercy.

with hips completely pressed together, he draws back and slams into your pussy. you scream his name as he continues to ram into you with beastly energy.

“gonna fill ya up, baby,” he thrusts and grunts simultaneously. “gonna stuff ya ‘till ya can’t take any more.”

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #mammon smut #obey me mammon smut #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #obey me beel smut #beelzebub smut #obey me smut #obey me x female reader #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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writing-for-marvel · 7 months

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Day 28: Filming

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: With your honeymoon almost over, Bucky wants to capture some precious memories on film.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, masturbation, oral (male receiving), slight daddy kink, spanking, slight mention of reader feeling insecure in front of the camera when it’s up close, but she fully consents to being filmed

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: the penultimate part!! I’m gonna miss these two at the end of Kinktober. Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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Bucky has you in his lap, hands splayed on your ass and his tongue in your mouth.

You had tentative plans for today that included leaving your beach front resort to go snorkelling, but when Bucky reminded you this morning that you only had a couple days left of your honeymoon, you decided staying in bed naked with your god-like husband was a much better use of your time.

“You wanna try something new?” Bucky mumbles against your lips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as his fingers trail tantalising swirls up and down your spine. His bare thighs are sturdy underneath your own, and his tattooed chest firm below your fingertips, but the softness in his eyes makes you melt into him.

“With you, always.” You reach between your bodies and begin stroking him, preparing for what you're certain is about to take place in the expanse of your bed. Bucky groans in response, the noise the most enticing sound you’ve ever heard. “What did you have in mind?”

Bucky Barnes, the King of New York, rarely ever looks bashful, but there’s a shyness to the way he gazes at you in this moment that makes your stomach flutter with butterflies.

“I was thinking… we have our wedding video, how about we make a honeymoon video too?” There’s something so very electrifying and alluring about the thought of immortalising your love for each other in the form of a sex tape. Capturing your most intimate moments and every angle of how perfect the two of you fit together. Something only your sets of eyes will ever view, but that will commemorate the month in your life where Bucky has made you feel the sexiest and most alluring you ever have.

The moment trembles between you, quivering with tension like a raindrop clinging to a leaf as you bite your lip before nodding in excited endorsement. Bucky surges forward, cupping your face and crashing his pillow soft lips to yours as you relax into his familiar, musky scented embrace that will forever be your definition of home.

With his insanely strong arms, Bucky lifts you from his lap, and places you with your back against masses of pillows. A jolt of exhilaration zaps through you as you’re reminded Bucky can quite literally manhandle you any time he pleases.

He grabs his phone, which had been charging on the nightstand, and holds it up as if he started recording instantly. Just the look of pure wonder and excitement on his features is enough for a desperate ache to grow between your legs.

“Touch yourself, baby. Rub that pussy for daddy.” You spread your legs wide to give Bucky and the camera the best view of your glistening folds, gathering your arousal on your fingers before focussing on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Show me how gorgeous you look when you touch yourself thinking of your husband.”

Every time he refers to himself by that moniker, it makes you even wetter. Your husband. The man who stood in front of everyone you knew and promised to love you forever. Your souls now entwined for eternity.

And if Bucky had his way, so would your bodies.

The way Bucky seductively licks his lips as he watches you pleasure yourself makes you more turned on than you thought possible. Imagining it is instead his fingers playing with your nub, you draw tight circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, your breathing quickening with every flick which Bucky seems to enjoy as he watches you intently through his camera with a delighted smile.

His large frame looms over you, inching the camera closer every second, completely enthralled by the little whimpers cascading from your lips and how your two fingers stimulate yourself and not wanting to chance missing capturing any of it on film.

Bucky groans when you slip your fingers inside you, you’ve never been able to reach the spots he can with his massive hands, but with him watching over you, filming you, you do your very best to give him a show that will be worth watching over and over again.

Drowning in your own pleasure you almost miss how Bucky starts stroking himself with his hand not in possession of his phone, already as hard as a rock observing the pornographic scene in front of him, but your mouth begins drooling at the realisation when you look over to him.

James Barnes, one of the most influential men in the whole world, your husband, is getting off to the picture of you masturbating, precum beading at his tip, all because he enjoys the sight of you spread out of a bed just for him. He has that look in his eye as if he wants to lick every inch of your body, devour you, but behind that is indecision, as if he’s enjoying your show far too much to interrupt for his own selfish reasons.

But as he pumps his thick length watching you intently, your chest also fills with a yearning desire to consume him, and you give in a lot quicker than Bucky does. You crawl over the bed, swaying your hips and putting on a show for the camera which is still recording your every move, before dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Is my dirty little slut desperate for daddy’s cock?” Having the camera this close to your face as you swirl your tongue around the head of his dick makes you slightly insecure, but Bucky has forever praised both how beautiful you are to him and your skills taking him in your mouth, so when he gazes down at you with the most smitten look you’ve ever seen and an anticipation where he can barely keep the phone steady, you forget all about the camera recording you and instead focus on pleasing your husband.

You choke on his cock as he hits the back of your throat, tears welling along your lash line as you push yourself down him as far as you can physically take, while maintaining the stimulating, circular pressure on your own clit.

“That’s my good girl, fuck your throat feels amazing” Bucky proclaims, affectionately rubbing your cheek with his thumb as he lets you set the pace, bobbing up and down his thick length, moaning around what you can fit in your mouth. “You look so hot gagging on this fat dick.”

You continue to suck him off with as much vigour as you can muster, until you get light headed, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, tears spilling from your eyes. Pulling off him, you look up at the camera with swollen lips, probably looking like the picture of pure debauchery. Given the look of utter devotion Bucky shoots you from behind his phone, you suspect he rather enjoys the sight.

He slaps his dick on your extended tongue a couple times, before you swallow him again, having caught your breath enough to continue.

Your thighs start to feel weak as your fingers focus on the bundle of nerves between your legs, and all of a sudden your orgasm comes out of nowhere, hitting you like a bus. You’re looking up innocently at the camera, taking all of Bucky in your mouth as pleasure sparks and rages like a wildfire in your belly, consuming your entire body. Moaning around his cock, you continue to furiously rub your clit as per Bucky’s growled instructions, dirty praises in the sound of his voice filling your ears even though he sounds far away.

Bucky gazes at you with a combination of awe and a craving need, moving the camera closer to your contorting face to capture every moment of pure pleasure as it floods through your body like a tsunami. He gives you his signature alluring smirk as you come down from your high, that one which always suggests he has much more in store for you yet.

He motions for you to get back up on the bed, all the while keeping you in the centre of the cameras shot.

“Show me that ass baby - yeah that’s it, the camera’s got the best view of this fucking perfect ass.” Bucky punctuates his sentence with a delicious slap to the fat of your butt, the short sting only making you drip with even more wetness to show the camera and your core ache to feel utterly full of him. “Gonna see how you take every inch, like the good little whore I married.”

As he thrusts inside you, starting at a brutal pace which has you gripping onto the bed sheets for dear life, you recognise Bucky is fulfilling his promise of keeping you satisfied and stuffed full of his cum throughout your honeymoon.

And now you’ll have the video evidence to prove it.

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enwrites · 11 months

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Summer Lovin' (l.hs) – Part One

pairing: ex childhood friend!heeseung x afab!reader

warning: 18+ MDNI !! (not really proofread so sorry for mistakes)

genre/cw: smut, sexual tension, degradation, fingering, male masturbation, vulgar language, suppressed emotions, asshole!heeseung, very slight basketballplayer!heeseung here, crack, slow burn kinda, jealousy, angst, teen romance, slice of life, you cry a lot, heeseung is very annoying, lots of throwing up is mentioned, enha members (02z & sunoo), aespa members (karina & ningning), mentions of beomgyu txt

synopsis: you and heeseung were super close as kids. being the same age and your parents being best friends, you had no other choice but to be each other’s best friends as well. that was until heeseung’s family moved to another town causing a rift to get in between the both of you. never being able to fully recover from the past, what happens when they move back and old feelings start to emerge? you just knew this was going to be a long summer.

wc: 13.2k words

a/n: part one is officially here!! this was just mainly a build up for the story so i apologize if it's a little lacking. part two will def have more to it and juicier smut so pls bare with me! i still hope part one is still enjoyable <3 happy reading and again, all feedback is appreciated :) (+ lmk if you'd like to be added to my taglist for this fic or my perm!)

[ series m.list ] [ main m.list ] [ part two ]

You let out a sigh of content.

Having just graduated, your senior year finally came to an end. Your last summer before college has just started. Bittersweet feelings linger in your heart as you realize your highschool chapter is over. Scrolling through your camera roll, you reminisce on old memories and experiences. Giggling to yourself finding pictures you had thought you forgot about. Most captured you and your three best friends. Karina, Ningning, and Sunoo.

The four of you have done just about everything together and you couldn’t wait to get your summer rolling, especially as Sunoo wouldn’t be joining you guys in college just yet. You cursed at the world, he was just a year younger than you all. It wasn’t like you guys were going to be separated anyways, he was your next door neighbor, his family having moved in right after Heeseung’s family left.

Heeseung… your mind starts to fill up with childhood memories. You couldn’t help but wonder how he was and what he was doing. You turn your head to the side. There on your nightstand sat a hello kitty framed picture of you and Heeseung at the town’s fair. You picked it up, holding it in your hands as you reminisced on your younger days. The two of you being shy of 12 years old, the summer before he left. The picture showcasing the two of you plastered with huge smiles eating funnel cake. You giggle a bit thinking about the events that occurred that day. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to one specific moment.

For some reason both of your parents allowed you two to ride the ferris wheel alone. Your face falls a bit as you start to remember. You wish things had never changed then maybe Heeseung would still be as close to you… maybe he would’ve kept his promise like he said.

“We’ll wait right here for you guys, okay?” Your mom says, ushering you both to the ferris wheel line. Excited bubbled inside the both of you as you two finally were getting to spend a ride alone without having a parent chaperone. Hearty laughs leave the both of you as you enter the ride, sitting across from one another. The sun was finally setting, leaving a sun kissed color in its path. You knew you’d remember this forever.

“The sky is so pretty Hee!” You excitedly said, taking the disposable camera your parents had bought you out of your little hello kitty purse, capturing the sky from your view. Heeseung watched you with so much adoration. He couldn’t help but smile at your actions, loving every second he spent with you. After getting your little picture, you put the camera back into your bag and turn to look at him, a smile permanently etched onto your face as well.

“Yeah— just like you,” Heeseung bluntly says, eyes never leaving yours. Your face starts to heat up and you look away from him. You had always had a crush on Heeseung, everyone knew that. Your heart pounds against your chest, you want to throw up everywhere. What you didn’t realize was that everyone also knew how much Heeseung liked you. Your little puppy love could be seen and felt from miles away. “I like you Y/n,” he continues, breaking the tension.

“I like you too Hee–,” he cuts you off. “No I really like you Y/n,” he sternly said, leaning into you. Even being across from one another, you felt suffocated, the ferris wheel capsule was extremely small you noticed. You wanted to run away. this had to be a dream right?

“I do too Hee,” you whispered back at him. The ride comes to a halt, you were at the very top. Your face red as can be, you were waiting for him to laugh saying this was all a joke. But he didn’t. He leans in even closer and that’s when you felt it. He took your first kiss. Your eyes went wide. For a moment you felt like you were floating amongst the stars. He pulls away, giggling at your reaction as a blush painted his face as well.

“We are going to be together forever Y/n, I promise and I'm going to marry you! And we’re going to have a big house and our very own hamster and even a cat! I know you really love cats but I really want a hamster!” he rambled holding your hands as his eyes never left yours again. Your heart was so full you felt like you were going to explode from joy. At that time, it was you and him against the world.

Forever you had hoped. Small tears formed as you remember the day he moved. Forever was long gone. You wish the world had helped Heeseung keep his promise. The heart shattering memory played in your head. You have tried for years to forget. But can anyone really forget their first love?

“D-Do you really have to go Hee…,” you choked out as tears fell down your face. Your parents gave you both some time to say goodbye to one another as they packed the last of the Lee’s things into their moving truck. The tears kept falling and falling. He reached his hand to your face, wiping them away. His heart shattered that day, he didn’t think his parents were serious. But slowly things were being packed up until this very day and he knew he had to say goodbye eventually.

“I’m sorry Y/n… I have no choice… please don’t cry,” he says to you, your sobs intensify. It was his time to cry as well, tears fell from his eyes as he watched you, this was never a sight he enjoyed.

“We’ll call all the time, okay? I’ll make sure we do, remember what I said Y/n! I’m going to marry you!” he choked out. “We’ll be like Hello Kitty and Dear Daniel Y/n… I promise, I’ll make sure my parents let us visit, okay?” he rambled on more. Pulling you into a tight hug, he let you cry on him as he wiped his tears away, holding you one last time. You didn’t know it was going to be the last time. You pull away, wiping away your snot and tears.

“I-I have something for you,” you stuttered, feeling overwhelmed as you pull out a little charm and a tiny picture of the two of you. Before you could say anything, the two of you were cut off as Heeseung’s mother spoke up, letting you two know they had to leave in a few minutes. Your tears always came rushing back but you held them in. You hand him the picture and a charm. A small smile crept its way to his face. There in your hands was a tiny little hamster charm accompanied by a pocket sized photo of the two of you from the ferris wheel, giggling as he remembered how you guys attempted to try and take photos together with your little camera, hoping the pictures came out well.

“I have a matching one!” you said, pulling out another hamster charm except yours pink and his gray. He pulls you into another tight hug, never wanting it to end.

“Don’t forget me Hee…,” you sadly uttered, his heart breaking right there and then. How could he forget you?

“I’ll never forget you Y/n, I mean everything I said!” He pulled you away giving you a stern look. You give him a weak smile, your heart feeling like it was never going to feel better.

“Just promise me Hee,” you softly spoke, sticking your pinky out. “I promise Y/n,” he links his pinky with yours, the two of you pressing your thumbs together, solidifying it. And with that, the two of you make your way to his driveway, as your parents called for the both of you. Your families say their last goodbye, promising to keep in contact and to visit. With one last final hug goodbye, they make their way into the truck. Pulling out of what was once their driveway and onto the road, Heeseung waved goodbye from the window up until the truck was out of sight.

You broke down. Your parents consoling you as your never ending tears kept falling down your face. You never really knew what heartbreak really felt like but you knew for damn sure this had got to be it. There you were, inconsolable as your first love headed away for a new town.

You didn’t realize how badly you were really crying. Puddles of tears trickled all onto the frame you held. No promise was kept as the months went by and your contact slowly started to dwindle. The Lee's getting too busy with business trips and Heeseung making new friends and joining so many after school clubs. The Lee’s never visited since then. Your mother telling you they just had a lot on their plate and that they’d make time eventually.

That was when the silence came.

Heeseung eventually stopped calling. The fantasy of that little house of yours being taken away by a tornado, forever ripped apart and shattered. The only time you heard or saw anything having to do with him was the year you got gifted your very first phone at the start of freshman year. Your mother had reached out to the Lee’s to give them your phone number. He added you on snapchat from his contacts, never once even starting a conversation with you. You never dared to attempt as well. Too many days had passed and you just couldn’t bring yourself to it. You were just glad to see he was alive and well, even if he never used the app. He never posted anything. Hell, he watched your stories for a week and abandoned the app, never once seeing him appear again.

Before you could get deeper into your thoughts and feelings, there was a knock at your bedroom door.

“Y/n~ are you up yet? Your mom told me to come up here,” you heard a voice from outside your door speak. Sunoo. You sniffled and wiped all your tears away as best as you could, setting the little frame back to its rightful place beside your bed. “Y-yeah I’m up!” you yelled back, hoping you didn’t look as bad as you thought you did. Sunoo opens your door, taken aback by your red puffy face and eyes.

“Were you thinking about him again?” He softly asked, joining you in your bed giving you a sad frown. He knew about Heeseung, you practically made his life a living hell the day his family moved in next door yelling nonsense about how he will never be Heeseung. He knew how much he meant to you and oftentimes he’d catch you looking at old photos with tear stained eyes. No matter how many boys you kissed and dated, you just never seemed to be able to move on. He was gonna fix that for you this summer. No more crying over Heeseung. Sunoo was on a mission now.

“Maybe…,” you weakly said followed by a sniffle. You were embarrassed to say the least. You hated how he had this effect on you. No matter how many boys you’ve been with, Heeseung was over there in the back of your mind. Even the time you lost your virginity to the school’s hottest boy Beomgyu, you couldn’t help but secretly wish it was always Heeseung. It was sickening and you knew he didn’t care for you anymore but for some reason you couldn't get him out of your head. You tried your best to suppress your feelings but you knew it was always going to be there.

Sunoo groaned, throwing his head back, tired of seeing you this way. He hated seeing you sad and he especially hated seeing you hung up over some boy you liked as a kid. You were grown now and he was going to make you get out there and forget about Heeseung.

“Y/n this is your last summer before college, we have got to get some new eye candy,” Sunoo says into your face, shaking you dramatically. “You have got to get over this dude Y/n! It’s been five years! YOU WERE A KID,” He exclaims, rolling his eyes. You sighed, hanging your head low. Sunoo had a point. You have got to try harder.

“You’re right…,” you let out. Putting his hand on his chest with a shocked expression plastered onto his face, he looked at you with his mouth hung open. No way you were finally agreeing with him on this matter.

“I’m gonna take this as a sign to completely come to the conclusion that we will never see each other again,” you glumly uttered. Yes your heart hurt but it was simply the truth. He ghosted you the year after he moved. You needed to get him out of your head once and for all.

“Well… let’s start with that picture right there,” Sunoo points to the frame beside your bed. You frown. You shook your head a little, reaching over to the frame and just setting it faced down. Baby steps you told yourself. Sunoo lets out an exhausted sigh. Some things he just needed to be more patient with.

“I’ll let you pass with that one for now, now get your butt up and go get changed and ready! If you haven’t seen what Rina said in the chat, she wants to go downtown to shop and eat! So let’s get up! They’re waiting!” It was your turn to groan as he ripped your blanket off of you and dragged you out of your bed, literally.

You were ready to finally get rid of Heeseung. For good.

“Finally you’re here!” you heard a familiar voice shout as you walked into the designated brunch spot you frequented. You spotted your friend Karina waving for your attention next to Ningning. You and Sunoo make your way over, sitting across from the two. “Took you two long enough! I’m starving,” Ningning muttered, picking up the menu to flip through.

“Sorry! We could’ve come sooner but someone had a problem starting with Hee and ending with Seung,” Sunoo said to them. They both gave you a small eye roll.

“Y/n you have got to get over him,” Karina said, looking down at the menu in her hand. “It’s been literal years babe,” she added.

“Yeah, I still can’t believe you turned down Beomgyu, he was literally in love with you after you both… you know,” Ningning trailed on. You cringe at the memory. Just after losing your virginity to him, Beomgyu started to get clingy real fast, constantly texting you every second of the day, walking you to all of your classes, wanting to be with you even after school, giving you zero time to yourself. Of course you were fine with those things as you were interested in him at first too. But every single day? You couldn’t take it any longer. It was exhausting the way he love-bombed you.

“Yeah why did you ever end it with him anyways,” Sunoo spoke up, not remembering the details.

“Because, he was creepy and weird and even if the sex was good, I felt suffocated, PLUS he said Hello Kitty was stupid…,” you said, reminding them, your cheeks turning red from embarrassment as you admitted the last part. No one was gonna hate Hello Kitty and get away with it.

“You are something else…,” Karina said back, shaking her head. They knew how much Hello Kitty meant to you and that was surely something they did not wanna mess with. Before anyone else could speak, the waitress came by to take your order. This was going to be a long day. You ordered a creme brûlée french toast and a caramel iced coffee. Heeseung loved french toast too, you remembered.

Boy was this going to be a long summer for you.

“Anywaysss, this summer is project “hot girl summer” for miss Y/n over here,” Sunoo breaks the ice. You roll your eyes as a smile crept onto your face. You couldn’t help but feel immense happiness, thinking about how your friends cared for your well being. You felt so lucky that the world had brought the four of you together. They were your entire world. You probably wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for them.

“Good because I wanna head to the mall and get some new clothes. Perfect timing! We have got to get you sexier things to wear!” Ningning exclaims excitedly. Something inside of you couldn’t help but get a bit excited. You were ready for a change and you were ready to get rid of Heeseung once and for all.

But you couldn’t help but feel as if something bad were going to happen.

You shake the thought off and you engage into whatever conversation your friends are having, laughing your heart away. You had to make this last summer count.

After about what seems to be almost an hour and a half, you and your friends head to the mall. Thankfully, everything downtown was in walking distance so you didn’t have to worry about Sunoo having to find parking once more.

Walking into the mall, you guys entered the first clothing store you saw.

“First of all, we gotta get you some lingerie or something, you cannot keep wearing all of those Hello Kitty underwear you have,” Karina judgingly said.

“Heyyy! They’re cute,” you offendly spit back with a pout. “Again, surprised Beomgyu even gave you some dick after seeing— OUCH!” Ningning yelps in pain as you smack her arm. She rubs the inflicted area, trying to soothe herself.

“Yeah you cannot expect to get laid like that anymo— OW!” you smacked Sunoo next before he could say anymore. Without realizing, Karina was already filling up a little basket full of matching sets for you. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Were your Hello Kitty underwear really that bad? Your thoughts were disrupted by Sunoo as he called for your name, holding up a few mini skirts.

“Try these on right now,” he said, pushing the skirts into your hands as Ningning followed suit with some tops and dresses. Already pushing you into the nearest dressing room, they demanded a fashion show. Meanwhile, Karina was hand picking the best lingerie she could find for you, making her way to the checkout, keeping her selections a surprise. Your friends were insane people.

Finally, from hours spent in the mall, you guys were ready to make your way home. The sun was finally setting as you four walked back into the direction of the restaurant your day had started at. With your hands full of bags, you swore you’re never going to spend this much money in one go again. “It was for a good cause,” you hear Ningning's earlier statement fill your mind.

Was this really going to help? You couldn’t help but feel doubts within you as the thought of Heeseung came crawling back into your head.

The sunset was the same sunkissed colors of red and pink that day you shared at the fair. This was getting pathetic. He doesn’t care about you anymore.

“Alright, we’re here, thank you guys for helping me with this case,” Sunoo spoke up, opening his trunk to put your bags away. Karina and Ningning smile at you, giggles escaping everyone’s mouths as you all take in the moment. It was days like this you all appreciated each other more.

“No worries, plus I cannot wait for you to see the lingerie, you’re gonna love them!” Karina excitedly squeals, pulling you into a tight hug. She leans into your ear whispering “send pics,” pulling away and giving you a sly wink. Hitting her shoulder, you shake your head with a toothy smile.

You guys say your last goodbyes as Karina and Ningning make their way to Karina’s car, you and Sunoo pull away, making your way back home. Man was it convenient for him as he lived right next to you.

“By the way, my mom just texted and asked if you wanted to stay for dinner tonight, she said there are surprise guests?” you asked puzzled. “What is Ice Spice going to be there or something?” Sunoo asks back laughing. You joined in. “Actually, she won’t tell me who it is so we’ll see… so are you down for dinner?” you asked again.

“Sorry not tonight, I already agreed to have dinner with my grandparents today,” Sunoo replied back. You were bummed as meeting new people always made you anxious. “But I’m free other than that so tomorrow we can do something again?” He asks. You nod your head telling him it was okay.

As you guys turn down onto your street, a boy on a bike passes by, catching your eye as he looks at you for a second, riding past Sunoo’s car. There was something oddly so familiar about him.

“Woah, cute guy… never seen him before, hope we see him again, maybe he could give you some action,” Sunoo piped up as he pulled into his driveway. You smacked his shoulder earning a dramatic yelp from him.

“Yeah… let’s see,” you said back, rolling your eyes as Sunoo helped you gather your things, walking you across the lawn to your house. He gives you a little hug and tells you to tell your parents he said “hi” before making his way back to his house. You opened your door and was immediately met with laughter and some distinctly familiar voices. Yet your head couldn’t quite pinpoint it. The door opening catches the attention of your mother.

“Y/n? Is that you? Hurry in!” she shouts from the kitchen, sounding a bit impatient. “Hold on! I have to bring things upstairs real quick, I’ll be back down!” you shouted back and ran upstairs. Walking into your room, you threw all of your bags into your closet, making a mental note to put them all away later and to try on the things Karina picked out for you. Without a second thought, you ran back down, curious as to who your mother was talking about.

Heading towards the kitchen, your steps come to a halt.

Were you hallucinating or were Mr. and Mrs. Lee standing right before you?

“Oh my Y/n— you’ve gotten so grown up and beautiful, I may just cry! Come give me a hug!” Mrs. Lee spoke up, one hand covering her mouth to hold back tears and the other extended to pull you into a hug. “It’s been so long, how have you been Y/n?” Mr. Lee asks you, it was his turn to pull you into a hug. Still stunned, you thought this was a dream. This had to be some sick and twisted dream.

“I’ve been okay, you know… just graduated and stuff,” you shyly said, suddenly getting anxious. Does this mean Heeseung was here too?

“Yes! We are so sorry for not staying in touch, oh how we wish so much to have stayed here but Mr. Lee’s new job required so much traveling!” Mrs. Lee spoke up, sadness filled her tone.

“Oh no worries, life happens, it’s wonderful to see you guys, are you two just visiting?” you asked, taking a seat at the dining table, looking at them. They had visually aged but they were still the same sweet couple you remember them to be.

“There’s something we have to tell you guys actually…,” Mrs. Lee trailed on, a sheepish smile on her face. She looked at her husband and looked back at us. “You tell them honey!” she excitedly demanded, seeming a bit giddy. Mr. Lee gives a gummy smile.

“We moved back into the neighborhood!” He shouts. Your parents both let out an “oh my god” as everyone was shockingly surprised. Your father getting excited that his cooking buddy was back and your mother getting excited now that she has someone other than you to gossip about the neighborhood.

“Oh my god, that’s so fun! What made you guys come back?” you asked, your interest piqued as you genuinely wanted to know. It’s been five or so years since they last moved.

“Well, Heeseung actually got into a college here, so we decided to move back and settle,” Mrs. Lee said. “Hmm what was the school name again?” she turns to her husband and asks.

“Decelis University honey, you’re always forgetting,” he laughs.

Your heart fell to your ass. Your mouth hung open, a visible reaction of surprise shown on your face. No way this was real… you had to be dreaming. Before you can speak up, your father beats you to it.

“Oh? That’s where Y/n is going! That’s so exciting, you hear that Y/n? You and Heeseung can be friends again!” your father joyfully claimed. “Speaking of Heeseung, where is the boy?” your mother asks.

“He should be here soon, he went on a bike ride before we left to see if anything changed around here. I’m sure he remembers where the house is!” Mrs. Lee speaks up. Bike… riding?

Oh no.

The realization comes crashing down onto you, you already have seen Heeseung. You wanted to throw up right there and then, this could not be happening right now. All of your emotions start rushing back to you as you excuse yourself to leave. Your mother sees your discomfort and follows you out of the kitchen a few minutes later. You make your way out heading towards your room, needing to sit down. Taking deep breaths in and out, your heart felt like it was going to collapse any moment. Your tears come flooding back the same they did this morning. Your breathing increases and you start to hyperventilate.

Was that really him? This can’t be happening, not right now.

Your heart felt as if someone just ripped it out of your chest and through it into oncoming traffic. No matter how much you wipe your tears away, they just keep coming back. Your head shoots up. There was a soft knock at your door. Your mother opens it, a weak smile showcasing on her face. She shuts the door softly, taking small steps towards you.

Your mother had always known how much you liked Heeseung. Your father always thought it was just mere puppy love, thinking you’d move on eventually. I mean who wouldn’t have? You two were only just kids. But your mother knew better. She always did.

The following days after the Lee's departure, she remembered having to hold you in her arms for hours as you hysterically cried thinking about the boy. The following months after, she knew you were still affected despite you telling her you were okay. She’d always occasionally catch you crying, hearing faint sounds of sniffles coming from your room. She always made sure to make your favorite desserts or meals to cheer you up, subtly letting you know she was always here for you. You knew you always worried her so you tried your best to suppress the feelings. But moms know best.

Sitting down on your bed next to you, she wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a tight hug. You lean your head onto her shoulder as your tears continuously stream down your face. Leaning her chin on top of your head, she hums into your hair to calm you down just a bit.

“Hey baby, it’s going to be okay, I promise… do you want me to tell the Lee’s an excuse so that they can go home? We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready yet,” she softly said in an almost whisper-like tone as she rocked you a little from side to side. You shook your head. You knew you had to face him one way or another, you mind as well get it over with.

“I-I’m okay…,” you hiccuped trailing off. She laughs a little. “Are you sure? I can really make an excu–,” cutting her off you chuckle, wiping your snot filled face and tears away. Your mother was always like this. She was always willing to do whatever it took to make you feel at ease. You couldn’t have been more thankful for having such a wonderful mother in your life.

“Sunoo said it was “mission forget about Heeseung” summer, so that’s what I'm gonna do,” you let out, untangling yourself from your mother’s arm, sitting back up. You wipe off the non existent dust off your skirt, hoping your mother would understand. She lets out a heavy sigh.

“If this is what you want, you know I’m always going to support you and whatever you choose to do– but I will be checking on you even more than usual, got it?” she sternly ends, squinting her eyes at you as she gives you a harsh point almost scolding you a bit. You both break out into a fit of laughter.

“Well, whenever you’re ready to come back down, the Lee’s will be joining us for dinner tonight– if that’s oka–,” you cut her off once more. “Mom, it's okay!” you dramatically sighed. “Heeseung is nothing to me now! I just threw him out the window in my mind,” you giggle picturing the scene. Your mother shakes her head, a huge smile plastered on her face listening to your silly thoughts.

“Whatever you say Y/n~ The boy should be here soon, so get cleaned up and make sure you look good! Show him what he’s been missing out on!” She excitedly lets out, giving you a kiss on the cheek. She heads to your door, but before leaving she turns her head back giving you a sly wink, then shutting the door. Her footsteps slowly disappear in sound as she goes down the stairs. You stand up, walking towards your vanity. Sitting on the seat in front of the mirror, you sighed heavily.

You looked insane. Eyeliner everywhere and your hair a mess. You put on a smile as you get on to working on your makeup once again. Fixing your wings and making sure to add your touch of glitter, you finish off with a clear gloss on your lips. You brush your hair out, making sure it was neat enough and definitely didn’t look like you were just crying your heart out. Thankfully, your oh so dear best friend Kim Sunoo, bought you some eye drops not too long ago, making sure you never walk out with red eyes ever. He knew the amount you cried no matter how much you tried to defend yourself. Some day you knew it’d come in handy.

Well today was the day that’s for sure.

You grab the eye drops, squeezing a few drops into both eyes, carefully blinking them in, hoping they wouldn’t mess your eyeliner up. You set it down, looking once more into the mirror for a final check. To your surprise, your face didn’t look as puffy as you thought it was. Thank you for the wonders of makeup. Satisfied with how you look, you walk to your closet, standing in front of your full length mirror beside it. You check yourself out, taking note that your outfit seemed cute enough already.

You had on a sort of short light purple pleated skirt, paired with a simple black corset crop top and sheer thigh high stockings. Was this too much? Again, Sunoo did help you pick the outfit out earlier as, in his words, this makes you look “sexy yet cute” and will “attract all the single boys in our area.” Feeling the need to cover up just a tad bit more, you open your closet to grab an oversized, cropped, black cardigan to wear over your top. That should be enough. Giving yourself one last look, you walk out of your bedroom door, happily humming to yourself as you skip down the stairs, going back to where your parents and the Lee’s were. Catching the attention of both sets of parents, they all looked at you as you stood at the kitchen doorway. You give a tiny wave, an awkward smile on your face. You walk to the dining table, pulling a seat out to sit next to your mother. Mrs. Lee catches your attention.

“Oh Y/n sweetie, are you okay? Your mother says you weren’t feeling too well,” she concernedly asked you. A chuckle leaves your lips.

“Don’t worry Mrs. Lee, I’m okay! Just something going on with my friends,” you lied, smiling back. Your parents definitely knew you were lying and Mrs. Lee couldn’t help but wonder if her own suspicions were true as well. Deep down, she knew how much your friendship with her own son meant to you. She also couldn’t help but feel guilty for how you both drifted apart, always thinking she should’ve convinced her husband to stay in this neighborhood a little harder. “Well, Heeseung should be here any minute now, food’s about done.”

You take a deep breath in, mentally preparing yourself. Maybe you weren’t ready for this. It was a little too late now though… plus you didn’t wanna ruin your parents excitement having their close friends back in town. You loved your parents and there was nothing more you wanted but to see them happy as well, no matter how much you were hurting inside. But man did you have a lot to tell your friends later. Your deep thoughts are soon broken as your dad speaks up.

“Oh Y/n! The Lee’s wanted to know if you wanted to come to their house this weekend for a barbeque party?” You nervously giggle as you weren’t really sure what to say. “You can invite your friends as well! Your parents have told us how close you were with the Kim’s son next door,” Mrs. Lee speaks up. Your palms start to clam up and your heart starts racing.

“Y-Yeah… sure I’d be happy to go, I’ll let my friends know! Thank you,” you shakily let out. Both of the Lee’s nod as your mom gives a single happy clap, filled with immense joy. “Perfect! And you’ll make your famous tiramisu right?” your mother grins, nudging you with her elbow. Shaking your head with a grin, you couldn’t help but agree. “Ooh Y/n you make sweets now? You’ve always had such a big sweet tooth,” Mrs. Lee said.

“Oh she sure does, wait till you try some of her macarons!” your mother exclaims dramatically, slamming her palm onto the table for a little smack sound effect. The two women get up filled with laughter, as they start to help prepare the table for dinner. “Do you guys need any help?” you asked, getting up from your seat.

The doorbell rings, catching everyone’s attention. “Y/n dear, could you grab the door? That should be Heeseung,” Mrs. Lee sweetly spoke up, hands filled with plates and utensils. “Uh… yeah… sure,” you sighed out, heart pounding against your chest. You definitely really weren’t ready for this. Again, that same bubbling feeling started to rise, you swear you were about to throw up right there all over the dinner that was being set onto the table. Surely this couldn’t be bad– right?

Making your way out the kitchen, you softly walked to the door. Your steps suddenly feel like you're walking on a floor full of hot lava. You oh so desperately wished you could just disappear into thin air right now. Please world, let you spontaneously combust with no trace of your well-being. As your body trembles a bit, you take in a deep breath as you shakily reach for the door, unlocking the lock and twisting the knob. That french toast from earlier fighting the urge to regurgitate right onto your floor. You pull the door open, confirming the sight you saw earlier from Sunoo’s car.

Lee Heeseung in the flesh.

Exactly how you saw him earlier in the day, clad in his gray hoodie and black jeans, bike leaning on the side of your porch. He tucks his phone back into his pocket, looking up to see who was appearing before him. The two of you lock eyes. He looks you up and down, taking in your appearance. He surely looked different, you thought. He no longer wore his glasses, his face was heavenly defined, and he grew to insane heights, towering over you. He had to be at least six foot tall you thought… yeah he was huge. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach, you were sure that you were attracted to him. You swear you could just faint any minute now. Without a care or a single word being spoken, he pushes past you, making his way into your house and into your kitchen.

What the fuck?

Taken aback, you close the front door, locking it behind you. A frown worn on your face as you try to take in what just happened. Following not too far behind him, you hear your parents excitedly yell his name. Appearing before you in the kitchen, you see him giving your parents both a hug, a small smile plastered onto his face. He wasn’t being serious right? It felt as if he was trying his hardest to ignore your presence. You held back your disappointment as tears desperately wanted to fall from your eyes. This effect he had on you was pathetic.

Now feeling offended as you watch them all engage in conversation, you make your way back to your seat at the dining table. You let out a huff, just waiting for this day to come to an end. Aside from his shitty attitude, you couldn’t help but think about the way he surely did grow into all of his features. Though he sported the same black hair he has always had, you couldn’t help but think how cute and fluffy it still looked, or the way his doe-like eyes still sparkled when you looked at them.

Well to you they still sparkled.

You also couldn’t help but think about how it’d feel like to have him enclosing you against the wall, towering over you or picturing yourself sitting on his lap as he held you with his big hands, making out with you. You squeeze your thighs together, naughty things fill your mind as a blush crept onto your cheeks.

What was wrong with you? Why were these thoughts filling up your mind? Before getting a little too flustered, you were brought back into reality as the chair across from you was being pulled out to be sat on. You look up, there Heeseung took a seat. He catches your eyes again, an uninterested look on his face. You simply look away. His aura felt suffocating. He was making you feel so small in your own home. It was sickening.

But man was the so fucking hot. Puberty had done him well that’s for sure. Your mothers sensed awkward tension between the two of you as they brought the food out to be set. Your fathers take their seats at both ends. Your mother takes a seat next to you and his mother next to him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the pitcher your moms had prepared for the table, your throat feeling drier than ever, you gulp down nearly half of your cup. As you all settle in a bit, you start to dig into your meal. Silence fell upon the table as you all took a moment to eat a bit.

The silence almost made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Mr. Lee clears his throat. “Heeseung, guess what?” he asks his son in a joyful tune. Heeseung cocks his eyebrow, looking at his father as he takes another bite of his food. Mr. Lee grins, looking at you and back at Heeseung. “Y/n is also going to Decelis University, isn’t that so fun?”

Your cheeks start to heat up as you awkwardly take another sip of your water. Heeseung looks at you. You could feel his stare burning into his skin.

Why was he being like this?

“What are you studying?” he asked, tone seemingly uninterested as if he was forcing himself to speak with you. Yet that didn’t stop the butterflies from filling up in your stomach. You had missed his voice. His voice, now deeper than it was before, runs through body. Your body trembles just a tiny bit. To you he seemed bored yet that was not going to stop your heart from doing olympic flips inside of your chest. “Um, psychology…,” you trailed awkwardly, playing with the food on your plate. He nods, more immersed into his food than he was in you.

Maybe people do change… maybe he really didn’t care for you anymore. You purse your lips into a flat line, frustrated at how things were going. Maybe you really did need to forget about him.

“Well Heeseung just got his very own car! I’m sure he’d love to drive you to school as well,” Mrs. Lee spoke up, trying her best to defuse the tension. “Mom,” Heeseung whines, disappointed in his tone. She gives him a stern look. The younger boy sighs annoyedly. His mother always forced him to do things he never wanted to do in the first place.

“I-It’s okay really, I’m fine taking the bus when the time comes, trust me, he doesn’t have to,” you shakily let out. Yet again, you felt as if you were going to throw up all over this table. “No he will Y/n, don’t worry, I’ll make sure of it,” Mrs. Lee smiles at you. Heeseung rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed at his mother for offering his services. You awkwardly pick at your food, as the parents started up a completely new conversion amongst themselves.

Stealing peaks at Heeseung every so often, you wondered why he was being so weird. Did he not miss you this entire time? Were you really that forgettable to him? You frown to yourself, finishing what was left on your plate, not realizing how fast everyone had eaten. You get up from your seat, giving a helping hand as you start to clear the table for everyone and making your way to the sink. Finally, away from the view of the table, you set the dirty dishes down.

You let out a deep shaky sigh. Tears slowly well up in your eyes once more. You tilt your head up towards the ceiling, trying your best to hold them back. You hated that you were such a big cry baby. You decide to start on the dishes, giving your mother a little helping hand, trying your hardest to think positive thoughts.

Back at the dining table away from your line of hearing, your mother speaks up, catching Heeseung’s attention. “Heeseung, you really have gotten so tall and handsome!” she expressed in awe. “Can’t you believe Y/n used to be a little taller than you back in the day? Now look at her! So short,” finishing her statement, she covers her mouth as she laughs, the other parents at the table join in.

Heeseung simply chuckles back. You were very small, it was almost as if you barely grew in height the last he saw you. If Heeseung was being honest, you caught him off guard. You looked completely different. Your hair is longer, your curves grew in, and even the way you dressed surprised him. Heeseung didn’t mean to ignore you, he really didn’t. He was afraid he’d stutter and embarrass himself.

You probably hated him anyway. So he made the conscious decision to make it seem like he just didn’t care. You surely had new friends now. But the thought of you, was driving him a little insane. That wasn’t the same Y/n, was it? He kept sneaking peeks at you like a kid having his very first crush. Well you actually were his very first love. For some reason, you were making him feel a bit hot and bothered. He needed to get away from you, he didn’t even think his parents would even move back to this place. He wanted to forget about you. There was no way you still felt the same after so many years.

It was his fault anyways that you both stopped speaking. He couldn’t forgive himself and he figured it was best to keep you out of sight and out of mind, embarrassed and nervous thinking of the way he must’ve made you feel. It’s been so long, it wasn’t like you cared– right?

Seeing you today just made him want to jump all over you. The nerve of you to wear that little skirt… Did you know his favorite color was purple? The moment he saw you, impure thoughts filled his mind. Thoughts and images in his head of you, bent over the table with your little skirt, all for him. He knew it was you he saw in that car with that boy.

Who the hell was that guy anyways? There was no way you wanted anything to do with him… you had already replaced him. For all he knew, that guy could’ve been your boyfriend. He needed to put an end to these thoughts. The two of you were no longer friends and here he was thinking about you in compromising ways. He felt like a creep. He felt himself getting a little too excited in hopes that maybe, just maybe, you were the bigger person and would look past his nonsense and maybe talk to him. He missed you, he always has.

But he was the one that ghosted you and he couldn’t forgive himself for what he ruined and he knew there was no hope of rekindling what was once there. It seemed like you had a boyfriend anyways and the thought of that just sours his mood. For some reason, it just made him all the angrier. He wanted to just kiss you in front of everyone to let the world know you were his girl first to begin with. Deep in thought, he hadn’t realized you were already back until he saw his empty dinner plate being carried away by his mother.

You sat back across from him. He locks his eyes onto you, taking the way you looked in once more. Man did he want to take you right there and then. He felt so filthy thinking about you in such a way surrounded by not only his parents, but yours as well. He shifts a bit in his seat, having to keep in mind that you were already taken. He was always selfish thinking you’d wait for him. To make himself feel worse, the thought of you doing lewd actions to anyone but him, made him feel the need to punch holes through walls.

Why was he so upset? He couldn’t even bring himself to speak to you normally anyways.

You felt heavy eyes on you as you sat in your seat, looking up from your lap, your eyes meet Heeseung’s. This was happening way too much for your liking. You look away and back onto your lap, fiddling your fingers together, nervous as to what he was thinking. He looked scary. Your breathing still a bit shaky, you were just counting down the minutes till the Lee’s left. But you knew they’d be here awhile, that was typical of both your families as they loved to linger and talk about nonsense. Your legs shaking nervously, you let out a deep sign, your anxiety getting worse as the time flies by. “Why don’t you show Heeseung to your room and catch up a bit? I’m sure you guys would love to talk amongst yourselves.”

You spin your head at the speed of light to where the voice was coming from. Your father takes a sip of his drink. “Go on, we’ll give you two some space,” he adds on. Shocked, you looked at your mother, hoping she’d save you, but she gave you a little shrug shaking her head. You knew your dad never took your feelings for Heeseung seriously. Taking a mental note to have a stern talk with him later, you stand up from your seat, legs wobbling. “Uh… sure– if it’s okay with you of course,” you hastily spit out, hoping he’d turn you down.

To your surprise, he stood up from his seat, making his way towards your side. What the fuck was going on. Was he not just ignoring you not too long ago? Your heart pounding against your ribcage, you scurry your way out of the kitchen, Heeseung follows behind.

Heeseung knew where your bedroom was already, your house was still the same aside from minor renovations from the past years. As you lead the way to your room, he couldn’t help but trail his eyes down to your bottom. The thigh highs on your legs not making anything better for what he was going through at the moment either. Walking up the stairs, his eyes catch a glimpse of your underwear… Hello Kitty underwear? He smirked. Maybe some things about you never changed and boy was he right.

When you open the door to your room, he was met with Sanrio galore. Hello Kitty plushies littered your room followed by every possible character that franchise had a hold of. Hell, your bedsheets and bed were splattered with just as much.

You walked in and sat on your bed, the nerve wracking anxiety eating away at you. You swear you could just jump out of your window right now to escape this. Too deep into your thoughts, you didn’t realize the fact that he closed the door behind him. You were definitely going to throw up sooner or later.

The tension was awkward and your heart was heavy. What were you supposed to say?

Lee Heeseung was in your room and he looked extremely hot.

He takes in your room, it looks completely different. You had taken time to really change things. He scans around and a certain wall catches his eye. There on the wall, littered with many pictures of you and your friends. There he saw you and that same guy he saw you with earlier in so many of the pictures. Why was he always there? It pissed Heeseung off to no end. Old pictures of the two of you nowhere in sight. He was upset to say the least. Did you really hate him that much? His temper starts to get short. What he said next shocked the both of you.

“Did you really have to dress like a slut for dinner?” he spits, catching even himself off guard. Your head shoots at him, a disgusted expression lay on your face. “What the hell did you just say to me?” You stood up, crossing your arms as you looked at him.

This was not the Heeseung you knew, that's for sure. Your feelings for him were thrown out the window and forgotten. He was being thrown out the window in your head once again. “Did I stutter?” he cocks his eyebrow at you as your face displays offense.

“What the hell is your problem Heeseung,” you bite back, your temper being shortened. You cannot believe this was the same guy you were crying over the entire day. He laughs at your face. “What’s yours? I’m not the one having my ass and tits hanging out for the whole world to see,” he nonchalantly says. Oh he was done for. “You sure have changed.”

He was far too gone to even call whatever he just did some sick joke and make up with you. To him, you looked so cute being all angry at him, it made him a little excited. He wondered how long he could keep this up. Though, he was fighting the urge to just grab you and kiss you right there. But you had a boyfriend, he couldn’t do that.

You angrily stomp towards him, cornering him against the wall. Harshly jabbing his chest with your finger, you looked up at him, a smug smile plastered onto his face. You wanted to punch his pretty face in.

“You are so fucking annoying, what do you treat every girl you see this way? Dick too small to get any action, you have to take it out on women?” you spit out at him, venom lacing your voice. One thing you were not going to let men get away with was the way they spoke about women. The sweet Heeseung you once knew, instantly exploding into little pieces in your mind.

He chuckles. “I’ll have you know, I have a huge dick and probably get more action than you– Ms. Hello Kitty panties,” he smirks at you as you gasped. “You fucking creep!” a loud sound erupted into the room.

You had just smacked him in the face. Heeseung knew he had that coming. You couldn’t believe this was your Heeseung. Someone definitely replaced the Heeseung you knew with a terrible good for nothing clone.

But why were you still so attracted to him?

Heeseung rubs the side of his face that was inflicted. “Can’t handle the truth can you, can’t believe your little boyfriend lets you out looking like that,” he said, rolling his eyes at you. Puzzled, you furrowed your brows together trying to figure out what he meant. Boy… friend? Then it hits you.

Sunoo. You couldn’t believe what you just heard. Heeseung thinks Sunoo is your boyfriend. Forgetting all that just occurred, you pull back and let out the loudest laugh in his face, clutching your stomach. You couldn’t believe he thought Sunoo was your boyfriend. “You really are so stupid,” you said, wiping a tear away.

Heeseung’s face heats up a bit as he pouts, what could’ve possibly been so funny. “Yeah, my “boyfriend” let’s me out like this, because he’s not actually my boyfriend,” you said with finger quotes on the word boyfriend. Why was he so worked up over Sunoo anyways?

“Then who is he to you, he’s in all of your pictures,” he crosses his arms at you. You raise an eyebrow, confused as to why he was pressing. “Um, that’s my best friend, he lives in your old house…,” you trailed, feeling a bit awkward bringing up the fact that his old place of residence was now occupied by some boy he knows nothing about.

Heeseung’s eye twitches just a bit, a weird feeling bubbles within him. So you did replace him and better yet, replace him with another boy that lives in his old home. He felt as if you just kicked him in the face.

“Was I nothing to you? What are you gonna marry him now? I look better anyways,” he disgustingly lets out at you. Was he jealous? You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You were the one that ghosted me, let’s not forget that now,” you said back sternly. The way his eyes darkened at you, made your knees a bit weak. He strides towards you, causing you to walk backwards, the back of your legs hitting your bed as you stumble on, Heeseung towering over you.

Voice dropping as he looked down at you on your bed, he spoke up. “It’s not like it mattered anyways, seems like you were out here dressed like a whore, leading every boy on.” Your eyes meet his, he leans down, you can feel his breath on your face.

“Bet you wanted me to look at you anyways, I bet you like the attention,” he whispers in your ear. Tingles run through your entire body. Without thought, you squeezed your thighs together to feel a little friction. You were getting turned on. He lingers just a little as he reaches his hand up to hold your chin, making sure you looked him in the eyes. Your breathing increases as you start to realize how close he was to you. This had to be a dream. He inches his face closer to yours, the scent of your strawberry like perfume fills his nose. You have always smelt sweet. It was intoxicating to him. You close your eyes, hoping this wasn’t real. He looks down at your lips before taking a slight breath in.

His lips landed onto yours. Your eyes widened, not believing this was happening. You quickly close them again, giving into the kiss. He smirks against your lips, deepening the kiss, his hand still holding your face up. He pulls away, pushing you down. You scoot up a bit, as he climbs onto your bed, now hovering over you.

You felt so small under him. Your eyes fluttered as he stared down at you. A wave of embarrassment wash over you as you bring your arm up to cover your face. He pulls your arm away, eyes hungry for you. He leans back down, pulling you into another heated kiss as he puts his knee in between your legs, opening them slightly. The friction catching you off guard, you let out a small moan. His dick twitches, you start to grind a little on his leg. He moves his hand down to caress your side, bringing it up to give your boob a squeeze over your shirt.

You gasped, taken by surprise. He takes the chance to stick his tongue into your mouth, your panties growing wetter by the minute. Mission “forget about Heeseung” was no longer there. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in. Everything felt so hot and fuzzy, you had long forgotten the things he had said earlier. Heeseung pulls away, moving his mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses. You squirm under him, trying your hardest to keep quiet. He chuckles.

“We just met again after so long, and you’re really letting me do this to you right now while our parents are downstairs?” he spoke against you, he trails his hand down and in between your legs. “You aren’t really helping your case of being a little slut now– are you?”

Your face turns red, unable to speak. He was right, you guys had barely said anything to each other and here you are letting him touch you after all the nasty things he said earlier. It was Lee Heeseung after all. The one and only boy who managed to make you feel every and all emotions in this world. Your body easily gave in as if this was what it's been waiting for.

His fingers stroke the outside of your panties, you were already soaked. He rubs his finger up and down your panties, feeling the dampness as he reaches his other hand up to your corset top, conveniently having a zipper on the front, he unzips your top, your boobs spilling out. “No bra? You really are just a slut.”

At this point, he was painfully hard. He gropes one of your breasts as he leans down, taking the other into your mouth. He sucks on your nipple as he rubs circles on your clit, still clothed by your panties. You reach your hand over your mouth, covering it as your moans gradually get louder. The room felt hot and heavy, you couldn’t help yourself as you moaned his name, pleasure overfilled your body.

“H-Heeseung… Hee… please…,” you softly cried out. He moans into your breast, pushing your panty to the side, he feels your wetness in its entirety. His fingers slide up and down your slit as he takes his mouth off of your nipple, eyes on you.

Fuck, you looked too hot. He couldn’t believe he was doing these things to you right now. He pulls you into another sloppy kiss. He inserts his finger into your hole, a moan erupting out of you as he starts to thrust his hand. You were so wet and he needed to take you right now. The thought of you both potentially getting caught as your parents were just downstairs, turned him on even more. He pulls away, taking your fucked out expression in. He adds in another finger.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, blushing as you caught his eye. Lust overtook him as he increased the pace of his hand, pumping his fingers in and out of you as if his life depended on it. He curled his fingers within you, earning a loud squeal from you. He smirks.

“Y/n, you gotta keep your voice down, you don’t want your parents coming up here seeing their sweet little daughter like this, now do you?” he menacingly asked. Your cute little moans were enough to almost make him burst all over you. His pants were getting too tight for his liking. He needed to have you.

You were lost and flustered. His fingers so deep into you, you felt your climax was close. “Faster… please H-Hee…,” you moan, stuttering from the sensation. “S-So c-close, I’m so close.”

With his free hand, he reaches up, grabbing your face. “Look at me while you cum Y/n, I need to see your fucked out face,” his said, his deep voice making you clench around his fingers. Your moans start to increase again, he puts his hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the volume. With one more pump, you cream all over his fingers, screams of his name muffled against his hand as he rides out your high with his fingers. He takes his hand off, allowing you to finally breathe and catch your breath. Eyes hazy as you pant. He pulls his fingers out of you, taking them up to his mouth, sucking on his own fingers and tasting your cum.

“Fuck, you taste so good Y/n,” he said, leaning down kissing you, letting you have a taste of yourself. Pulling back, he leans his forehead on yours, taking in what he just did with you. Silence filled the room, your cheeks heated up as you looked away from him. Your heart wanted to jump out of your chest.

You just let Lee Heeseung finger you.

And you liked it.

Before you both could even muster up words to say, yells of Heeseung’s name were heard from downstairs. He stands up quickly, taking in the way you were on your bed one last time. Man did he love that skirt on you. He adjusts his hoodie, pulling it down more to cover his raging boner. Without a word, he takes his leave, leaving you there on your bed. Tits out, panties filled with your own cum, skirt hiked up, and flustered. You hastily sit up, zipping your top back up. Like the entire day, the feeling of needing to throw up reemerges. You reach your own hand down, feeling the wetness still there. This definitely was not a dream. Heeseung just fingered you.

Lee Heeseung was here and he just fingered you.

You grab your pillow, groaning as you slam your head repeatedly down onto it.

How the hell did you end up here?

Heeseung’s heart was beating so fast. He ran down your stairs, almost running into his own mother as she was putting her shoes on by the door.

“Woah, slow down son,” she laughs. He mutters a sorry as he turns to bid your parents a goodbye. He makes his way out of your house needing a breath of fresh air, still painfully hard. He picks up his bike from the side of your porch and makes his way off of your driveway and down the road, leaving his parents there puzzled as to why he was in such a hurry. He needed to get home now.

Thankfully, his house wasn’t too far from yours, just being down the street by the basketball court. He threw his bike onto his lawn as he hurriedly tried to fish his house keys out of his pocket. Opening the door, he quickly shuts it behind him as he runs up the stairs and to his room. He locks the door. He needed to let one out while the image of you was fresh in his mind.

Heeseung strips himself of his clothes, leaving him in just his boxers. He jumps into his bed, laying his head onto his pillow, palming himself through his boxers. Before getting started, he hears his parents enter the home. He waits until they make their way into their room, settling in for the night. After a bit of time had passed, he deemed it safe enough to finally start his session. He palms himself once more, squeezing his length through his boxers.

He couldn’t believe you actually let him finger you. He takes the hand he used to finger you with, bringing his fingers up to his nose, taking a whiff of what was there of your essence. His dick twitched. You smelled delicious. Not being able to take it any longer, he pulls his boxers down, his cock slapping down onto his abdomen, pre cum already leaking from his tip. He spits into his hand, carefully reaching down to his cock, giving it a stroke.

Thoughts of you fill his mind. Images of what just happened flipped through his head like a slideshow. He strokes up and down, remembering the way your tits looked amazing. Your moans replay over and over again. He gives his tip a squeeze and continues on stroking his cock to you. His eyes remain closed as he tries his hardest to keep you there. He strokes hard and fast as he can almost still hear you moaning his name over and over again.

He groans, wishing you were here to help him out. He thinks about how warm and wet your mouth would feel around him. He wishes so badly he got to feel your pussy around his cock, squeezing him the way you suffocated his fingers within you.

“Fuck… Y/n,” he moans to himself, speed increasing. That damn skirt of yours. Next time he knew he had to have you bent over the nearest surface, pumping his cock deep into your pussy. If there was even a next time.

You were driving him insane. His orgasm getting closer and closer, he gives a few more pumps, ropes of his own cum spilling all over his chest as he lets out curses of your name. He laid there, panting and trying to catch his breath.

This summer was going to be the death of him.

The next day rolls around a little too fast for your liking. The events of last night, replaying in your head over and over again. You wanted to go to the nearest bridge and jump off.

The boy you have been crying over for years was just here… in your house… and he fingered you.

Your anxiety has been eating away at you since the moment you woke up. Your friends were on their way to your house, any minute now. Thankfully, Sunoo slept over his grandparents and agreed to go pick up the two girls before making his way here.

After Heeseung had left last night, you immediately looked for your phone, opening up your messages to tell them what just happened. Thinking about it makes you want to run away forever.

Y/n sent a message to group “fuck heeseung!”

Y/n: guys … something just happened…

Karina: what’s up babe?

Sunoo: u good?

Ningning: ???

Y/n: uhhhhhhhh……

Sunoo: bitch if u dont just spit it out! 😒

Y/n: heeseung just fingered me in my room

Sunoo: WTF

Karina: WTF

Ningning: WTF

Ningning: this bitch done took the gc name srsly my gawdddd 😭

Having sent that text, you immediately threw your phone, ignoring the spam texts and calls your friends were sending your way. You could not handle your emotions as you went to get ready to sleep only to wake up to threats from your friends telling you they’re breaking into your house tomorrow and making you spill the tea. You lay there on your bed, covering your face with your hands. One of these days you were really going to throw up all over the place.

Your thoughts were soon broken as you heard loud knocks coming from downstairs. You hear muffles of your friends greeting your mother as she opens the door for her and then asking where you were. You wish you could just cast a spell like Alex Russo and disappear yourself out of here. Rushed footsteps head their way to you and your door was thrown open. You uncover your face and quickly sit up, patting your lap as your friends stare back at you, their arms crossed.

“Heyyyyyyy…,” you said, awkwardly trying to lighten the mood, tucking your hair behind your ears, giving them a toothy exaggerated smile. This is the part where you wish you could spontaneously combust. Karina closes your door as Sunoo walks to sit on the bed with you and Ningning occupies the beanbag on your floor. Karina sits on the ground next to her. All eyes on you.

“So… how are you guys,” you sheepishly said, rubbing the back of your neck. They all roll their eyes simultaneously growing impatient.

“How are we? Bitch how are you?!” Karina shouts at you. You pick up the Hello Kitty squish next to you, slamming your face into it and groaning. “If you don’t hurry and get to the detai–,” you cut her off.

“I will! Okay! So like you see…,” they inch closer towards you, not wanting to miss a single detail as mission “forget about Heeseung” was now compromised. You sighed, taking in a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Okay so you see what had happened was… Heeseung’sfamilyhadmovedbacktotheneighborhoodandtheycameoverand–,” you were interrupted. “Oh my god Y/n slow the hell down, you know I can’t think!” Ningning exclaims, annoyed at your tactics.

“Okay.. okay… so… Heeseung’s family had moved back to the neighborhood–,”

“So they were the “special guest” your mom had told you about?” Sunoo interjected. You nod. “Okay, carry on.”

“Right so, since his family had moved back… that means he’s back… and–,”

“Now how did this get to him fingering you?” Karina speaks up.

“I’m getting there woman! Okay so–,”

“Damn Sunoo you missed out on seeing this motherfucker,” Ningning interrupts once more. “Right? Like I was just thinki–,” Now you were the one to cut Sunoo off. “Are ya’ll going to let me finish my story or what?” you annoyedly sighed. The two mumble small “sorry’s” as they allow you to continue.

“Alright so, my parents invited them to stay for dinner, Heeseung wasn’t there yet and turns out he was the guy me and Noo saw riding his bike down our road,” you start off, palms getting sweaty. “THAT WAS HIM?” Sunoo shouts back at you, hand covering his mouth. “He was so cute.”

“Anyways,” you continued. “He shows up, kinda an asshole now, he practically ignored me all dinner until my parents forced me to bring him to my room and then things got a little… you know… heated… and he uhh… you know, did what he did to me,” you shyly finished as all the blood within you started to rush to the apples of your cheeks. You looked down onto your lap. “He was really mean… but he was so hot… I’m not sure what happened but he went from calling me a slut, to getting weird over thinking Noo was my boyfriend, me yelling at him, and then BAM! His fingers made their way in me I guess…,” you finished off. You look up, catching your friends' confused stares. Sunoo bursts into a fit of laughter.

“He thought I was your boyfriend? Y/n he was so jealous, like seriously, he finger fucked you because he was jealous you were around another boy!” Sunoo says through his laughter. You smack him with your squish, throwing punches at him after. “Well yeah and you’re sitting right where it happened,” you yelled at him. He gagged, disgusted he pushed you off of him and took a seat on the floor next to the two girls. He shook his whole body, cringing.

“Wait a minute, he called you a slut? Like in a “you’re so hot you belong to me” type of way or “you’re a slut and you need to stop looking like how you look” way?” Karina asks, genuinely concerned over the fact that this dude potentially hurt your feelings. You scratch your head.

“Um… the second one…,” you trailed. Karina gets a bit heated. Her feelings towards this dude grow sour as the seconds pass. She hated him already. She lets out a heavy sigh. “You can’t be serious and you let him touch you after all of this?” She says with a disgusted tone paired with an equally expressive disgusted face. “When I get my hands on this guy, I’m gon–,” you cut her off.

“Rina, seriously it’s okay… everything just happened so fast, I’m not really sure how to feel but I also didn’t hate it,” you painfully admitted. The shame inside of you spilling out of your pores as you try to figure out a way to justify what you did. There was no justification. This was all way too complicated.

“Y/n… this is the guy you have liked forever… and he ghosted you… if it were me, i would’ve been beating the shit out of him and not letting him put some fingers up my cooch,” Ningning spoke up, shrugging her shoulders.

“Well I did slap him across his face,” you nonchalantly throw out. “You did what?” Sunoo said, raising an eyebrow genuinely interested. You roll your eyes at him.

“So… did you even get his number to like… you know talk about all of… this,” Karina asked. She just wanted the best for you but you just alway seem to dig yourself into the biggest holes known to man. You let out a chuckle.

“About that… no…,” you muttered out. Karina picks up the nearest plush she saw that was on your floor and throws it at your head. “You are so stupid sometimes, you know that right Y/n?” she tiredly said. If she gets the chance to ever see Heeseung, she made a mental note to have a long talk with him. He could not get away with these shenanigans, she did not care how much he meant to you.

“Oh yeah… and he’s going to be attending Decelis–,” this time it was Ningning throwing a plush at you, interrupting your nonsense. “It just keeps getting better and better!” Sunoo sarcastically lets out.

Sighing you felt exhausted, mentally and physically. This whole situation makes you want to pull your hair out of your head. But before forgetting, the thought of the barbeque comes to your mind. “Also, his family is hosting a BBQ this weekend, they said I could invite you guys– but only if you were interested!” you hurriedly finished the last part, worried they were going to throw anything else at you. Ningning and Sunoo shoot up from their seats.

“Def def def going! If he’s as cute as y’all make him to be, he’s bound to have even cuter friends to invite,” Ningning giggles, fantasizing about the potential boys Heeseung could be inviting. “Maybe they’re gonna be going to DU too~,” the bubbly girl sings. You all roll your eyes at her. She has always been a hopeless romantic.

“I’m just nosy and I’d love to see how this all plays out,” Sunoo lets out, Ningning agreeing with him also. You all turned to Karina, she seemed indifferent.

“So Rina bear… do you want to come too? I’m making my tiramisu for the occasion~,” her face lights up, you can see the twinkle in her eyes. “Okay, but… I can’t promise i”ll behave,” she said, crossing her arms, sticking her tongue out at you. You jump up with joy, jumping onto them and onto the floor, pulling them all into a tight group hug.

“I love you guys so much, now let’s go get ice cream or something, I'm craving something sweet!” You excitedly exclaim. Sunoo snickers. “Yeah Heeseung already gave you something sweet last nigh–OW!” you smack the back of his head before he could even finish his sentence. With that, you all get up, making your way outside and to Sunoo’s car.

“Alright, where are we heading?” Sunoo asks you guys. Ningning speaks up from the backseat. “Ooh, to that taiyaki ice cream place, you know, the one past the basketball court down there!” Everyone agrees as Sunoo pulls out of his driveway.

Unbeknownst to all of you, Heeseung has been at the basketball court since the morning, playing some rounds with his friends. As Sunoo drives down the road, he suddenly lets out a gasp, slowing his car down.

“OH EM GEE… Y/n is that Heeseung?” He asked, pointing his finger towards the basketball court. “Oh em gee, WHERE?” Ningning yells, rolling her window down, Sunoo does the same.

There Heeseung was, in a simple baggy white tee and gray sweatpants. “Wow Y/n… he’s so hot,” Ningning gasps. “And so are his friends! If those are the ones going to the BBQ, I call dibs on the blond one, he looks like a puppy,” she finishes.

“Fuck are they looking at us?” Karina asked, her eyes bulging out of her face. Your face heats up, there Heeseung was, stopped in his tracks, eyebrow cocked as he makes eye contact with you through Sunoo’s car. You wanted to jump out of the car and run away. All of his friends were staring back, looking to see what had caught their friend’s eye.

Of course they were, Sunoo and Ningning were not helping the situation. Who wouldn’t notice a bright red car, slowly driving down a quiet street as some weirdos stare at them from inside. To your surprise, Ningning catches the attention of the blond one, giggling as she winked, blowing him a kiss, he winks back at her. Karina pulls her back from the window, smacking her upside her head as she rolls the window back up.

Sunken down onto your seat, the embarrassment was eating away at you as you oh so desperately wanted to throw up all over the interior of Sunoo’s car. You groan, covering your face, your friends really had to make things even weirder for you. Sunoo steps on the gas as he tries to get you guys out of this awkward situation ASAP. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way you looked in the passenger seat next to him. You ignore him, pulling your phone out to scroll through whatever social media app your finger clicked first. An instagram notification catches your eye.

“heesoswag1015” wants to send you a message!

You click on the notification, leading you to your requests box. Your heart is still racing, you click the accept button. The color drains from your face.

heesoswag1015: stalker much?

heesoswag1015: anyways my friend jake told me to tell u that your friend is really hot

heesoswag1015: and that you’re really fucking weird

You were definitely not looking forward to the weekend.

#♡; enwrites fics #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung imagines #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #fanfiction #enha smut #enhypen x y/n

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himbocoups · 2 months

Text

˗ˋˏ The NDA ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

SYNOPSIS: the budding romance between two movie stars and a promise backed by a stack of legal contractual papers. how much would you allow yourself to go through in order to be his?

PAIRING: actor!hjs x actor!reader (gn)

GENRE: romance, humor | suggestive

TAGS: costars to lovers, mutual pining | oral mention

WC: 2.1k

A/N: not using smut tags for this fic bc technically nothing happens. but I am still limiting it to 18+ readers. happy spring! I'm still not posting as often because I'm still working on my thesis, but thank you all for reading and enjoying my fics - ♡ nu

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As charming and alluring as he appears in online interviews and the multitude of print magazine spreads across the globe, it’s no surprise how the international sensation stuns you as he hovers his right hand underneath your chin before gently cupping it with just the pads of his middle and pointer fingers. His thumb lands on your bottom lip, slightly pushing into the velvet plush as he tilts your chin upwards. You’re unable to meet his eye, too afraid that you would either instantly combust into flames or go to jail immediately for daring to look Joshua Hong in the eye.

“Hey. Look at me,” he murmurs. He slides his thumb off your lip and pushes the pad of the finger onto the front of your chin. “Are you afraid of me?”

He looks at you with such intent in his eyes. The spotlight that shines on the two of you only seems to be illuminating his face, so much that you can see the dust particles settling softly into the strands of his styled hair and suspended in the space between his lips and yours.

You turn your head away from him, causing his hand to slip from its grasp. To your left, the audience composed of cast members, crew, production, and a number of Hollywood stars and agents watches as the scene continues to unfold. Continuing as you have once acted over several takes and then re-enacted several times over the length of the press tour, you look back at him with wide eyes. The expression on your face looks like a mix of confusion, hurt, and love. Your eyebrows furrow while you clench your jaw.

“Stop smiling at me so sweetly,” you mumble. It’s loud enough to be picked up by the boom mic hanging above the both of you.

“Smiling at you so sweetly?” he tosses the question back at you through a teasing smile. In one fluid motion, he picks up your hands from your sides and interlocks his fingers with yours. The only point of separation is the gap between your palms. “Why?” he asks while rubbing his thumbs against the fleshy part between your thumb and index fingers.

“Because I’d be led to assume that you like me” You attempt to pull away from him, but his grasp is firm. He pulls you closer. “And I don’t like that.”

“My smile or my feelings for you?” An awfully cheesy line, but it’s overused for a reason so much that the single question causes the entire audience to gasp or hold in their breath as if hearing it for the first time in their life.

There is a condensed amount of tension between your two characters that pushes and pulls the physicality and imaginative boundaries between their love and intimacy. You stare back at him with that stupid feeling of hope for nothing. Stuck as the character you played for months, you are starting to wonder if it is the character opposite of yours or the actor whom you like.

“Everybody, a big round of applause,” tonight’s emcee announces into his microphone and ends the scene.

As soon as you hear the applause and cheers, you pull away from Joshua’s grasp. For now, there is a physical space between the two of you that you would like to maintain, but the actor quickly breaks it by pulling you into a hug before passing you a bouquet of flowers from your manager. He holds your hand in his when the cameras start clicking, smiling widely into the ocean of flashing lights. You catch yourself staring at the few strands of hair that fall in front of his forehead, noticing how stiff the hair gel causes the strands to become. He doesn’t look back at you, so you smile, curving your eyes and creating apples in your cheeks as you have been taught to hide the fact that you’re deeply disappointed by the realization that you’re merely his coworker.

But that thought doesn’t matter when he has you pressed against his hotel door later in the night, the automatic lock uncomfortably digging into your side.

The whole world believes he goes to bed early, precisely at ten pm, after his viral “A Day in My Life” video shot in collaboration with a popular magazine channel. However, you know what his life is like past ten, how he would stand between your legs in his shower, hot water pounding against his muscular back.

Lips swollen, chest covered in hickeys, and hair smelling like his sponsored products, you would often find yourself in his arms in bed after the shower. Legs intertwined, he would mold his lips against yours before kissing you down your chin, your neck, your collarbone, and shoulder. Finally, he would place an exhaustingly soft kiss against your temple before he wished you goodnight. You would force yourself to sleep, heart beating loudly while you tried to ignore how turned on you were even after he had his head between your thighs for the past half hour or so. He would arrive on set an hour after you did, holding a tray of coffees and clutching his script tightly under his armpit. Passing drinks to his fellow actors, he would hand you yours with a warm greeting, without any hint of what happened the previous night.

He is always willing to bend the rules whenever he can, but only if the rules aren’t set in stone by the law. He respects his partners and himself too much to actually have sex before a romantic relationship is established. On some nights he tells you that he wants to take the relationship to the next step while your ear is pressed against his chest and the tip of his chin against the top of your head. Other nights your knees are pressed against the uneven shower tiles when you take him in your throat. How he makes an effort to pay attention to and wipe away the droplets that fall from his chest onto your face guts you deeper than how you take him. And his sonorous promise about a relationship echoes in his chest and in your brain as each ticking minute passes by as it approaches the end of your movie contracts.

The bouquet of flowers you were gifted at the event falls to your feet as you are guided to his hotel bed. The plastic wrap crinkles against the soft carpet, and stray petals cover more surface area. Joshua makes an effort to pick it up while laying you on the bed. Not breaking eye contact with you, he posits the bouquet on the nightstand in one fluid motion, with his left hand supporting the back of your head as if laying down a fragile artifact.

He shrugs off his outer layer, the smart and classic partially lined suit that was lent to him from the designer herself, dropping it on the floor as if its value is worth less than your flowers. You feel the warmth emanating from his body as he positions himself above you, and you’re immediately engulfed by him the moment his lips reconnect with yours.

A magnetic lure of intimacy has you whining as your head follows upward when he briefly pulls away from your lips for some air. He chuckles, a soft laugh, and the stretch of his swollen lips imprints a smile on yours before melding and creating a whole. His knees dig and rest against your core, and your hands explore his back, tracing the curvature of his muscles to the dip before the shoulderblades. You want to be closer to him so much that your fingers grasp at his skin, only to be left with his dress shirt scrunched and balled between your fingers.

Still, he gently bites your lower lip and tugs his head backward to allow the appendage to escape his grasp. Breathlessly, you watch him take his time to examine your face as if looking at something for the first time. You let his eyes roam between the different elements of your anatomy, connecting like stars of a constellation. You allow him to notice everything, from the creased powder under your eyes to the thin strand of saliva that escaped to your chin.

He flattens his tongue against your chin, sending chills down your spine. And you look at him wide-eyed as a hint of mischief sparkles in his eyes while he licks away the saliva. He gives you a quick peck on the tip of your nose before he automatically shoots up from his position.

“Stay here,” he tells you.

“Why?” You’re confused. Either way, there isn’t really anywhere that you would want to go nor has he given you a reason to leave.

“I have something for you,” Joshua hums while rushing over to the hotel closet.

“A present?” Interest and curiosity cause you to rise from your position.

“Something like that,” he replies. “Been planning it for a while.”

Half of his body is obscured by his open closet door, but you can clearly hear him unzipping and zipping different pockets and compartments of his bags.

“Should I close my eyes?” You tease him while taking your time to unbutton your top. You watch his movements from a distance while your fingers slowly move from button to button. You have no idea what the surprise could be, but you know how you would like the night to end.

He stands up around the same time you’re done unbuttoning your shirt. You round your shoulders and let the shirt undress you as it falls backwards and bunches around your wrists. The fabric lays against the hotel blankets and leaves your skin feeling cold.

He stands before you with an amused look on his face. Folded in his arms is an important-looking manilla envelope.

“Where’s your shirt?” He stupidly asks you as he takes a seat to your left. He drops the heavy envelope on a pillow before he reaches down to pick up the suit that he dropped on the ground. And he takes the time to drape it around your naked shoulders before turning to his other side to pick up the envelope.

“Ah-” he sighs while bending the metal clasps that secure the envelope. “Do you know if our hotel provides pens?”

“Huh?” You let your confusion escape your mouth. A part of you wants to believe his surprise has to do with some sort of foreplay that he hasn’t tried before. “It’s probably in the leather room folder next to the telephone on the nightstand.”

He reaches into the envelope and pulls out a stack of papers and drops it in your hands. “Read it over. I’ll hand you a pen.”

“Is this some sort of sex act?”

You lean over to nip his ear, but he leans forward to grab the hotel folder. Instead, you find yourself nipping air.

“I mean, it could technically lead to one. Or many?” He clicks the pen before handing it to you. “Sign when you’re ready.”

You frown while holding the pen and papers in your hand. In giant and bold letters across the top of the page are the words “NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT.” His surprise he prepared so much for is an NDA.

“An NDA? You handed me an NDA?” Your mouth is left hanging open as you stare at him in shock.

“Sexy, right?” He winks at you before his expression morphs into something solemn. “Although, I do suggest you look this over with your manager and lawyer. It wouldn’t be a fair contract if only one side benefits from constructing it. But once you sign, we’ll finally be able to be together.”

“You make it sound like we’re getting a prenup.”

“Babe, think about it. It’s like a sequel to a prenup.”

You fear that no amount of facial procedures from the best esthetician in the industry can smooth the amount of wrinkles you are getting from this conversation. Although, you are taken aback by this situation, you can’t possibly comprehend how a planned hot night alone with the actor before you can turn into this.

Feeling flustered about signing legal documents when you thought you were finally going to fuck your co-star, you decide it’s probably best if you spent the night alone in your hotel room. You mumble something about looking the papers over while handing him his outerwear so you can properly put your shirt back on.

“You’re leaving already?” He lightly tugs the hem of your shirt as if to ask you to stay.

“I just remembered my manager wanted to meet me after the event.” A lie. “I’ll see you.”

“So no head?

#svthub #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #joshua imagines #seventeen x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen fic #joshua fic #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #✏️ ━ himbocoups

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twilight-lavender · 9 days

Text

"Hello Mr. Lover !"

Mingyu x Reader ❤️

Summary: Y/N is a staff member who has quietly developed a crush on Mingyu, the idol she works with. As they go about their daily tasks, they both steal glances and share unspoken moments. The twist? Mingyu has a crush on Y/N too.

The spring breeze gently wafted through the open door, carrying with it the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. Y/N, a diligent staff member for Seventeen, found herself alone for a brief respite amidst the hectic schedule. The scenery outside was a painter’s dream, a canvas awash with the soft pastels of spring. Trees adorned in their floral finery swayed softly, as if they were swaying to the rhythm of a Seventeen ballad.

Inside, Y/N stood near the video equipment, her eyes momentarily lifted from the screens and lights to gaze upon the natural splendor. It was a rare moment of tranquility in the whirlwind of her day-to-day responsibilities. With a soft smile, she pulled out her phone, seeking a brief escape. Her thumb scrolled through the endless feed until a particular video caught her attention—a compilation of cats doing the most adorably absurd antics. A giggle escaped her lips, a sound as light and carefree as the petals that danced on the wind outside.

The air was still, charged with an unspoken anticipation. Y/N’s laughter had barely faded when she felt a presence behind her, a shadow looming over the light of the spring day. It was Mingyu, his tall frame eclipsing the sunlight as he leaned against the window, arms encircling her in a protective embrace.

His voice, a soft whisper that tickled her ear, broke the silence. “It’s cute,” he said, his breath warm against her skin. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, surprise etching her features as she turned to face him. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them, too close, too real.

The digital watch on Y/N’s wrist came to life, its beeping a testament to her racing heart—a melody to which only Mingyu was privy. He smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. So, you love cats?” Mingyu’s voice was gentle, a soft rumble that resonated with Y/N’s quickened pulse.

“Yes, I love them. I even have two,” Y/N managed to reply, her voice a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Wow,” Mingyu’s response was simple, but it held a world of wonder. Y/N’s voice was barely above a whisper, “Let me show you the picture…” She retrieved her phone, her fingers swiping to her gallery where the cherished images of her feline friends resided.

Mingyu’s curiosity drew him closer, his lean frame bending towards Y/N’s. As he did, their shoulders brushed against each other, a touch as fleeting as the sakura petals that fell outside. It was an innocent contact, but it sent a wave of warmth through Y/N’s body, her heart fluttering like the wings of a captured bird. In the quiet room, the air was thick with unspoken words as Y/N and Mingyu locked eyes, each gaze holding a world of silent conversations. The moment stretched on, a delicate balance between what was said and what was felt.

Suddenly, the spell was broken by the arrival of DK, his voice slicing through the tension like a gentle breeze. “Brother, everyone is waiting for you. The shoot will resume in 10 minutes,” he announced, oblivious to the charged atmosphere he had just interrupted.

Mingyu nodded, the spell of the moment dissipating as reality beckoned. “Okay, coming,” he replied, his voice steady but his eyes lingering on Y/N for a fraction longer than necessary. Before he turned to leave, Mingyu reached out, his hand gently patting Y/N’s head in a gesture that was both comforting and familiar. “Let’s meet later,” he said, a promise hanging in the air between them.

As Mingyu followed DK out of the room, Y/N was left with the warmth of his touch still lingering on her scalp, a silent vow that they would indeed meet again. The beeping of her watch had ceased, but her heart continued to echo the sentiment of that simple touch, a reminder of the fleeting connection they shared. Y/N stood motionless for a moment, her fingertips pressed against her cheeks which still tingled from Mingyu’s touch. Her mind raced with questions, her heart aflutter with emotions she couldn’t quite name. “What’s happening to me?” she whispered to herself, the words barely audible. The thought of harboring feelings for Mingyu sent a jolt through her, a mix of fear and excitement. “Do I like Mingyu? No, no, I can’t…” " Do i ???? No, Y/n don't think about it now " hushhhhh

With a determined shake of her head, Y/N pushed those thoughts aside. She couldn’t afford to let her personal feelings interfere with her professionalism. Taking a deep breath, she turned on her heels and made her way back to the shooting area, her steps steady but her heart still unsteady. Mingyu stood with the other members, his gaze occasionally drifting towards Y/N, who was busy with her duties. The set was alive with activity, but his attention was anchored elsewhere.

Jeonghan, with a sly grin, leaned in close to Mingyu, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “So, that’s the girl you have a crush on?”

Mingyu’s eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and amusement, a silent chuckle in his throat. He gave a small nod, his eyes never leaving Y/N. “Yeah, that’s her,” that' the girl i like "

(shooting continue....!)

*Around 7 pm*

The set was quieting down as the members of Seventeen began their journey home. Mingyu’s eyes caught Y/N in a moment of struggle, her arms laden with a cumbersome box.

Mingyu: (with a warm smile) “Here, let me help you with that.”

Y/N: (attempting to maintain her composure) “Oh, I can manage, really.”

But Mingyu was already by her side, easing the weight from her grasp and placing the box carefully in its rightful spot.

Y/N: (her heart touched by his kindness) “Thank you, Mingyu. That was very thoughtful.”

Mingyu: (shaking his head lightly) “No worries. Are you not leaving yet?”

Y/N: “I will, shortly.”

Mingyu: (glancing out at the darkening sky) “It’s late. I could drop you off, if you’d like?”

Y/N: (a bit startled) “Huh? Oh, no, I was going to take the bus.” Mingyu: (with a gentle insistence) “Please, let me drive you. It’s no trouble at all.”

After a brief hesitation, Y/N’s eyes met Mingyu’s, and she found herself nodding in agreement, her heart fluttering with unspoken feelings.

Y/N: “Alright, that would be really nice of you.”

Mingyu’s heart raced a little faster as he opened the car door for Y/N, his actions smoother than he felt inside. Y/N’s cheeks warmed at the gesture, her heart doing a little dance as she settled into the passenger seat.

As they drove, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Mingyu. The city lights played across his features, casting him in a soft, ethereal glow that made her heart skip. She wondered if he could hear the loud thumping of her heart.

The silence in the car was a comfortable blanket, wrapping around them until Mingyu’s voice cut through, gentle and tentative.

Mingyu: “Today was quite the day, huh?”

Y/N: (nodding) “Yes, but it’s a relief that we finished everything. And now, the weekend.”

Mingyu: “Any plans?”

Y/N: (with a light laugh) “Eat, sleep, and repeat. What about you?”

Their laughter mingled, a sweet symphony in the confined space of the car.

Mingyu: (scratching his head, a shy smile on his lips) “Well, um… I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me tomorrow?”

Y/N: (her heart fluttering) “Me?”

Mingyu: (with a teasing glint in his eyes) “Unless you see someone else here?”

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing with the possibilities this lunch could mean.

Y/N: “Okay, cool.”

Mingyu: “I’ll pick you up at 11 then?”

Y/N: “Sounds good. Oh, and take the next right here…”

Mingyu: “Alright.”

They arrived at Y/N’s place sooner than she wished.

Y/N: “This is me. Thank you, Mingyu, for everything.”

As she stepped out, their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, both hearts pounding with the promise of tomorrow.

Mingyu: “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

Y/N: (barely above a whisper) “Tomorrow.”

(to be continued....... ! )

Part 2

Author Note

"Hello dear readers,

I hope this message finds you all in good spirits. I'm thrilled to be sharing a new story with you, and I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed crafting it. Life can get busy, but I promise to update whenever I can find a spare moment. Your support means the world to me, and I'm sending all my love your way.Thank you for joining me on this journey.

Warm regards,"

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loaksky · 1 year

Text

— 𝘨𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳

the lowdown — neytiri’s his first love, but you’re his forever…he swears.

the who — jake sully x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 3.2k

the tags & warnings — possible language, she fell first / he fell harder, first love / last love, arguable tension

the notes — based on this request ! ideally this takes place before anyone dies & everyone is happy :)

masterlist

You and Jake have always been a sticky situation.

Because it didn’t always start with the two of you. At first, he had eyes for someone else, could only bear the thought of being with one person in the whole of Pandora, and that came in the form of the clan’s most important daughter. And you watched from the outskirts, watched as lessons in life turned into lessons of love.

To be frank, you don’t know when the adoration started, when the feelings began to bloom. Your heart was arid territory, but the seeds were planted and the roots were festering.

Maybe it was his dedication to the people, spirit one with the village. He was allegiant to Pandora down to every last blade of grass, every leaf, every insect. And he was kind, offered his heart and full efforts to every endeavor.

You admired him silently, learned to love him quietly, even as the passion between him and Neytiri swelled until it was ready to burst.

You hadn’t really realized that he’d noticed you until one day nestled among the trees.

“Is this where you disappear to everyday?”

Your neck swivels so hard, you almost get whiplash. The project you’re working on, another satchel to replace your own, bunched tight in your fists as your eyes scan the expanse of forest floor wildly.

Jake stands a few meters below, hand resting casually on the hilt of the dagger strapped across his broadening chest.

All that sounds in the quiet between you is the bobbing of your throat as you swallow, eyes wide and unblinking.

“You don’t really talk much, do you?”

You suppose you don’t, not when you’re used to blending into the edges, spending your days lounging around village grounds and finding odd and ends to tend to.

“Nothing?” Jake presses, weight shifting as he peers up at you.

“Not everyday,” is your only response, still unmoving from your perch on the branch.

Jake only nods, conversation coming to a painfully quick lull.

“What are you up to?” he prods, shifting again.

“A bag.”

Your cheeks are warm under his unrelenting gaze, mouth dry because you’ve spent months admiring him from afar, watching him slowly meld into becoming one of the people.

“A bag,” he repeats.

You nod.

He lets out a puff of air that sounds an awful like a humorless laugh and he scratches the back of his neck. He’s folding his cards first this time around, unsure of how to trod such uncertain territory with you.

“See you around, ________,” he says, giving you a playful salute as he peels away.

Your heart skips as he saunters off, timbre of his voice sweet around your name.

Jake continues to find you in that spot often.

Graduated from holding brief conversations from different elevations to propping against adjacent branches enjoying your company, he comes to find out that you're awfully shy.

Painfully so. But when he makes you laugh, and you timidly smile with full heart, he feels your facade crumbling.

And as chance meetings after duties turn into promises, you can’t help but wonder what's changed. Every moment with you means a moment unspent with his lover. It makes equal parts pride and dread swell in the pit of your stomach.

Whispers about him ripple through the village, that he’s learning quickly, catching onto the way of the people with great ease. There’s talk of a ceremony, of accepting him as one. It makes something sour, bitter, curdle inside of you in the ugliest way possible.

Because a ceremony means selection and selection means solidifying the relationship he has with the leader’s daughter. It means no more limbo and the time you’ve spent trying to guard your wanting heart is shot to shit.

It considerably dampens your mood, something that takes Jake a mere glance over your body language to read.

“Something’s bothering you,” he observes, head tilting to the side.

You bite the inside of your lip, eyes golden and gooey. They’re the only thing that betrays the stoic expression that colors the carve of your jaw and the curve of your cheekbones.

It takes every ounce of effort to not visibly melt at the way you carry yourself.

He doesn’t know when it started with you, how you could have possibly caught his attention when all you did was wash out in the background, bleed through the edges. But you had. Had captured his attention enough for him to second guess such a fleeting barrage of emotions when it came to the future tsahik.

Neytiri was a force to be reckoned with, but you were a gentle gust of embracing wind. Jake didn’t feel any pressure with you, didn’t feel like he was wearing the skin of someone else. He felt like him.

“Our time will end,” is all you say.

It takes him a moment, but he notices the slick of your lashes, the almost imperceptible hiccup.

His five-fingered hand cradles your chin, and for the briefest of breaths, you want to ease away, want to put as much distance as you could between you and the very one who has the power to nurture and shatter your heart all the same. But something glimmers like liquid gold in Jake’s eyes and you crumple.

“Why is that?” he whispers. “What makes you say so?”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” you ask.

There is no malice in your tone, only a lingering thread of defeat.

“Far from it,” Jake answers, nudging you to meet his gaze when your eyes flicker away. “You are the most intelligent and capable person I know.”

Your breath hitches and you swallow down a petulant rebuttal.

“I hear what they say about you, Jake Sully,” you say lightly. “They want to make you one of us.”

A gentle smile twitches upon his lips, something triumphant flickering over his features.

“You against it?” he asks, eyebrows quirking.

You shake your head, fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide his hand from your face. When you try to pull away, he threads your digits together, tugging you so that you shift closer to him.

“You do great things for the Omatikaya,” you say. “They are very proud of you.”

“Are you?” he presses.

“Am I what?” you ask, voice caught in your throat.

Jake draws you impossibly closer. You can make out the constellations of blemishes on his face, the smattering of glowing freckles across the expanse of his muscled chest.

“Are you proud of me?” he wonders.

It’s a loaded question, one that makes a shiver rip down your spine and your cheeks to warm.

Of course you were proud of him. You’d watched him from afar for far too long, had seen every accomplishment, every failure. Had seen the spectrum of his emotions, every jubilant moment and bouts of discouragement.

“Yes,” you answer simply. “Very.”

The smile that cracks the lush of his mouth makes you swallow hard.

“Good,” he hums. “I’m glad.”

He’s searching your face, eyes glazed as he takes in all of you before him. The silence is thick, pierceable by the bluntest of edges. When you show no intentions of breaking the quiet, Jake speaks again.

“Now tell me,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. “Why is our time ending?”

Your lips purse and something like annoyance shutters over your pretty face.

“The tsahik’s daughter has made her intentions with you very clear,” you say, trying to sweeten the acidic words on your tongue. “You cannot waste anymore moments with the likes of me.”

Jake bites back the widening of his smile, but he can’t help it, not when this encounter solidifies every suspicion he’s had about you and him.

“You’re right,” he says simply. “Neytiri’s asked her parents for their blessing for us.”

You try not to let the disdain cloud your features, try to tamp down the twitch of your frown, but you can’t get anything past him, not when Jake’s favorite subject to study is you.

“I’m sure they are delighted,” you respond, making a move to peel your fingers from his.

Your chest is tightening and your vision is clouding.

His grip squeezes and the film of tears that sheen your eyes makes his heart go soft.

“They do approve,” he adds, pausing to pick his next words carefully. “But…”

Your gaze flicks to meet his again, heart stuttering when you find that his gaze hasn't left your form. His eyes are mapping every one of your features, pausing a moment too long on your lips.

Your cheeks blaze.

“But?” you fill.

“I refused,” he replies thoughtfully.

He could laugh, the way your lips part, brow bones shooting up as your eyes blow wide.

“Why would you–”

“My heart belongs to someone else,” he finally admits. “It has for a long time and it was stupid of me to think that I could ignore it.”

“Oh—” Your breath hitches.

“But I can only act on my heart if she’ll have me,” he says, searching your eyes.

“Do you think she—”

Jake breathes out a laugh, tugs you so that your front presses against his, close enough to feel the fan of his breath against your lips, to smell the delicious spice of bathing herbs clinging to his balmy skin.

“You’re torturing me here,” he groans, throwing his head back.

You see the way his Adam's apple bobs and you fidget in your seat.

“I—”

“Jesus Christ, love, put me out of my misery and tell me you’ll have me, please.”

You only manage a noise of surprise before his hand cups the back of your neck to guide you forward, lips pressing desperately against yours. His mouth is warm and when he leans into you, you taste the sweetness of berries on his tongue.

His hands wander, gliding over the smooth expanse of your flesh like he’s committing every curve and edge of your body to his memory.

“Wait, wait,” you whisper breathlessly. “What about Neytiri? She… She loves you.”

Jake’s dazed, disoriented because the taste of you makes him far more delirious than he’d expected.

He presses his forehead against your own.

“She’s got nothing on you, angel.”

Everything shifts on its axis after that, but there’s one thing in particular that remains—the seed of doubt that had rooted that sunny day under the canopy of the jungle’s oversized leaves.

Perhaps you’re being cynical, a little paranoid, but Jake’s yet to claim you before Ewya despite officially becoming one with the people. And you could stomach it, the idea that maybe he’s just prioritizing a smooth shift into life with the clan, but lately he’s been sneaking around, blowing you off.

You don’t want to give that niggling feeling of insecurity any stock, not when he’s so lovely to you when you two are intertwined, but you happen upon them by chance and you feel stupid. It was silly, really, to expect Jake to cut ties so abruptly when his fickle heart used to all but thrum for the future tsahik.

They laugh on the embankment, sitting a little too close for comfort.You want to look away, tell yourself that you’re being too much, but he hesitantly tucks a braid behind her ear and your breath hitches in tandem with hers.

You can’t force yourself to expel the breath in your lungs, eyes locked on their figures like your pupils are tethered.

You wish you didn’t stick around, wish you’d just continue on in ignorance, because as Jake leans to give Neytiri a closer look at whatever he’s toying with in his hands, the distance starts closing between them.

They look like they belong together, two bodies that perfectly fuse.

“Oh—” You hadn’t meant to make a sound, wanted to escape quietly, but just as easily as the breadth between the two of them had closed, a chasm forms between their lithe bodies.

“________?” he calls, voice layered with alarm.

You turn on your heel, pushing through the curling foliage with blurring vision.

“Hey, ________, wait!” he calls out, feet splashing from the water as he climbs from where he’d been sitting with his ankles plunged beneath the surface.

When his footfalls fast approach and his fingers wrap around the width of your forearm, you quickly dash away the pooling tears before turning to face him head on.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, cupping your rounded cheeks in his palms.

His fingertips glide down the length of your neck, brushing over your shoulders as he examines you.

You shake your head quickly, forcing down the insecurity that bubbles hot like magma under your burning skin.

“Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat before finally meeting his worried gaze.

“Oh, come on,” he sighs, pushing the hair from your face to take a better look. “It’s just me, ________. You can tell me the truth.”

You lick your drying lips before gently breaking away from him.

“It’s nothing, Jake,” you reassure him with a small smile. “I’m just being silly.”

He opens his mouth to protest, taking a step towards you.

“Jake Sully!” Tsu’tey’s voice thunders through the forest as he claps a hand down on his comrade’s shoulder.

Jake turns a warning eye towards him, mutters that now isn’t the time as he swats his hands away, but when he turns to face you, you’re gone.

You feel guilty.

Guilty because you fear that you’ve blown things way out of proportion, guilty because Jake’s reserved to giving you your space after another failed attempt at coaxing you from your shell. And infinitely so because he holds you close, when your breathing is steady and you drift in and out of sleep. You hear him, like the gentlest of lullabies.

I love you.

It haunts you, those three words. And you guess you’re no better than him. The weight of solidifying your union before Ewya is a heavy one, Jake knows this. But such human words weigh the same to him. And you know that to hear such a lofty sentiment rasp from your soft voice is all he could ever want.

“He is at his wit’s end, you know?”

You pause your laundering, allowing your loincloths and woven tops to sink back to the shallow bed of the river. When you crane your neck to find the source of the voice, you’re surprised to find Neytiri leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree.

Your response is delayed.

“...Huh?”

“Jake,” she says simply, and your cheeks warm. “You worry him.”

You turn back to your chore, spine stiffening when something rustles and Neytiri moves to sit next to you.

“May I?” she asks, reaching for one of your intricately beaded tops.

“Okay,” you whisper, unable to meet her sharp gaze.

“I was hurt when he denied my parent’s blessing,” she says casually, like the thought alone doesn’t make your heart ache for the tsahik’s daughter. You can’t help it. “But I wasn’t surprised.”

Your head snaps up, meeting her eyes reluctantly.

“When I first brought him back to the village,” she says, wringing the corded fabric. “You caught his eye, but you didn’t even glance his way.”

And truthfully, you hadn’t. Dreamwalkers were trouble and you had no intention of ever crossing paths with him. But then you began to see more and more of him, began to feel the weight of his presence on the village and you couldn’t help but give into the fall.

“He started asking about you,” she laughs quietly. “Every time he’d see you. Said that you never paid him any mind no matter how close he got.”

You roll your lips nervously, watching the way she reaches for another one of your garments and washes with increasing frustration. You almost miss the tears welling in her eyes.

“I wished for so long that he would let it go, let you go, but you have a hold on him, ________,” she rasps.

You blink in disbelief, shaky fingers reaching to touch her own.

Her face tilts towards yours and her grip on the fabric loosens.

“Jake Sully is a good man,” she whispers. “Don’t waste something good because you are scared. It will not only be a disservice to him or me, but yourself.”

You swallow, nodding slowly.

“I’m–” you take in a shuddering breath as your head bows. “I’m sorry.”

A wet hand comes up to your cheek.

“Don’t be sorry,” Neytiri coos. “Just be grateful. Be fearless. It is Eywa’s will.”

Jake almost thinks you’re a vision when he sees you making quick strides towards him. He breaks away from the circle of villagers just as you press yourself into his chest and those not privy to his relationship with you watch with widened eyes.

“Hi,” he breathes, combing his fingers through your hair. “Hi.”

You don’t say anything, arms looping around the narrow of his waist as he throws an apologetic look over his shoulder and walks the two of you towards a quiet area outside of the circle.

“Everything alright?” he asks, trying to peel you away from where you’ve buried your face in his chest.

You mumble something unintelligible, something that makes his ears prick hard to hear, but your cheeks are hot and you aren’t sure if you can handle seeing his softened eyes as you utter the words.

“What?” he asks, pulling away enough to see the flush across your face.

“Said Iloveyou,” you murmur.

He freezes, like his brain is short circuiting when he pieces the words together.

“What?”

You steel your nerves, suck a deep breath into your lungs, and find his sunny eyes.

“I love you, Jake,” you say shakily. “I love you and—”

The laugh that leaves him is giddy and you have half the nerve to melt, but he’s kissing you for the first time since that day in the forest and you’re putty in his hands.

“Wow,” he whispers when you break away to stand on your tiptoes and wind your arms around his neck. “I didn’t think…”

You’re kissing him again, fervently, like you’re trying to make up for lost time and he can’t help the tickling behind his navel or the heat that starts from his toes and burns all the way up his chest.

Your skin is plush under the pads of his wandering hands and those three words, spoken into the hum of the surrounding jungle is all the confirmation that he needs that it’s you and him forever.

“Wait, wait,” he sighs breathlessly. “I have–”

A hand snakes between your bodies, fingers digging into the pouch strapped across his broad chest.

You watch with viscous eyes as he pulls what looks to be a gilded ring, tiny in circumference. Two pieces of thin vine cord through either side, beaded with pearlescent stones and smooth gems.

“I…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck as you fall back on the heels of your feet, arms loosening from around his neck to give him the room to hold it up to you. “It’s one of the only things I care about from Earth.”

Your browbones twitch.

“The ring’s been in my family for a while,” he says gently. “But it’s probably too small and I know that Na’vi don’t wear things on their fingers and–”

“It’s beautiful, Jake,” you say softly, palm pressing against his chest.

He grins, sliding the heirloom up your wrist to rest snugly around the flesh of your bicep.

“Perfect,” he murmurs to himself.

And when your eyes swing from the gift to meet his gaze, you find him already staring down at you tenderly.

“I don’t…” you trail off, suddenly shy under such intensity. “I don’t have anything for you.”

Jake barks out a laugh, corner of his lips quirking up in a lopsided smile as he cups your face in his hands and brings his forehead to yours.

“Don’t need to give me anything,” he says quickly, breaths warm and lips a hairsbreadth from your own. “Just tell me you love me again, that’s enough.”

Your face is indescribably warm under his cool touch.

“And maybe another kiss,” he adds coyly, then a hand skims over the small of your back, dangerously close to your tail. “Or more…if you want.”

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @junieswrlds , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @neteyamo , @fanboyluvr , @mazemymirror , @theycallmesia , @girlpostingsposts, @athenachu , @hiya-itsamber , @morks-watermelon , @sanfransolomitatm , @lovedbychoi

#jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully fluff #avatar #avatar way of water #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar 2

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

hooking up in a truck with joel pre-outbreak…..dont judge me it came to me in a dream🫣

AN | And just how could I say no to this idea? Truck sex with Joel? Yes please 😏

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Smut [oral - f receiving, piv] - 18+ only

Word Count | 3.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d gone on five dates with Joel.

Which means you’d had five opportunities to fall harder and harder for him. Which you definitely did, by the way.

He made things easy.

He also made things hard. Hard in the sense that he wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a one-night stand. Which hadn’t even happened, coincidentally. After that first date when you’d planned to take him home and have him and never call him again, things had gone very off plan.

Off plan which had you falling for him, and being okay when he walked you to your car and pressed a kiss to your cheek before calling it a night. You’d had a lot of fun with him and learned a lot about him and realized you wanted more than just a quite hook-up. Who would have thought? Not you. Certainly not when he came into your coffee shop all sweaty and dirty and sexy - well…maybe you had imagined it a little bit. What more was there to say? The man was hot. And so much more you soon realized.

Just before he’d walked to his truck he promised he’d call you - you were positive he was lying.

He called the next day.

Which led you to this moment.

In the bar, a few beers down, and playing pool. The two of you had gone out with Tommy and his girlfriend, and you had to admit, you were having a great time. You also had to admit that the tension between you and Joel was palpable. The idea of jumping his bones had been ever present but you didn’t want to ruin a good thing…and you were pretty sure that Joel Miller was an amazing thing.

You were willing to wait for him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Turned out, mercifully, that Joel was growing tired of waiting. And thank fuck for that.

He was holding your hand, fingers threaded together as the two of you walked back to his truck in the humid summer air. Instead of opening the door as he normally did, he managed to effortlessly pin you against the truck, caged in by his arms on either side of you.

“Joel?” your voice sounded much smaller than intended and you felt pathetic by the way your entire body flushed with warmth under his golden gaze, “w-what’s wrong?”

“You,” he whispered, unflinching and unaffected. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you scrambled to think about what he could possibly mean. He chuckled, a deep, warm sound you’d come to love, at your confusion, “you tryin’ to kill me, sweetheart?”

“I-I don’t…no?” you asked meekly, eyes wide and doe-like. He reached a hand out, rough and soft in a wonderful juxtaposition, and trailed his fingers along your jaw, “‘m sorry.”

“Yeah?” oh. He was thoroughly enjoying this, letting his fingers tough the strap of your dress, “you show up in that pretty little dress and expect me to behave? You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?”

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he caught on. He was a smart man after all.

“Mhmm,” your lips pulled into a pretty pink smile as you nodded, “was hoping you’d like it.”

“I do,” his large hands settled on your waist as he gave your hips a squeeze, “you’re beautiful.”

“Is that all?” you carded a hand through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp as he groaned, “if that’s the case-”

“Beautiful, sexy, lovely, smart, funny, kind, caring,” he listed off the first things that came to mind as you beamed at him, “and that’s just a few of things I like about you.”

“Funny,” you leaned, your lips almost brushing against his, “those are a few of things I like about you too. Want to know a secret, handsome?”

“Tell me,” oh. You could just lean in a little more and you’d be kissing him.

“I think you’ll like what’s underneath even more,” you whispered coquettishly, “it’s new. I picked it out with you in mind.”

“Fuck me,” he almost groaned, “you’re making it almost impossible to keep any self control.”

“I don’t want you to have any self control,” you were breathless, heart pitter-pattering like crazy by now, “I want you.”

“Baby,” were you about to make out like a pair of horny teenagers? It definitely felt like it was heading that way and you weren’t about to stop him, “baby, baby, baby.”

This man was going to be the death of you.

You closed the last bit of remaining gap, and any semblance of restraint, between the two of you and kissed him. You’d kissed him before by now, even had a pretty good make out session on your front porch when he dropped you off at home after your last date. But this? This was something else, passionate, carnal, and needlessly desperate.

He took your face in his hands, and kissed you deeply as you snaked your arms around his waist. He tasted like a mixture of shitty beer, bar peanuts, and something that was deliciously him - it was intoxicating. You wanted him to devour you. He licked along the seam of your mouth, asking for entrance which you eagerly granted him.

Your body reacted instinctively and you were pushing yourself against him desperately for any sort of friction or relief. You could feel how hard he already was, his jean clad erection rubbing against you through your dress and panties; it all suddenly felt like too much and you wanted your clothes off now.

A small gasp, a sound of pure pleasure, escaped your lips as trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You could feel his chuckle against skin as he sucked on the delicate of your neck, leaving behind a lavender haze of bruises that marked you as his, his, his.

“Joel,” his name falling from your lips so sweetly was enough to bring him to his knees, “a-are you sure?”

You weren’t exactly positive about what you were asking, but you understood what you meant.

“We can stop - do you want to stop?”

“No,” you shocked your head, a pretty giggle reaching, “fuck no, don’t stop. Please, touch me. I want this if you do.”

“I do,” you liked how cheeky and confident the handsome man in front of you could be, “I really do.”

“I knew you were going to be trouble from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he hung his head with a chuckle, resting it on your shoulder before mouthing along your collarbone.

“I could say the same about you,” you took his face and cradled it in your hands, before kissing him deeply, “I knew I wanted you to wreck me from the moment I saw you too.”

He made a primal sound before sharply gripping your hips, and towering over your frame. His hands started to bunch up the soft fabric of your sundress, white and pale pink patterned, and pulled it up. His leg was between yours and you messily tried to rut against him.

It all felt so dirty, but at the same time it was so hot. Kissing Joel Miller felt like nothing else and you never wanted to let him go. You looped your arms around his neck, and pulled him as close as physically possible.

“Get a fucking room!” you heard the voice from a distance and the two of you pulled apart in shock. There was a mortified expression on your face as Joel sighed and turned to find the sound of the interruption.

The two of you quickly spotted the interrupter - Tommy.

He burst into a fit of laughter before waving and getting into his own car. Joel held up his hand and flipped him off before looking back at you. The two of you broke into a fit of laughter before he shuffled you to the side and opened the back door of the truck. You quickly got the idea and jumped inside, grinning as he joined you and shut the door…and promptly locking it.

“Now were we?” the grin on your face was stunning as you sprawled across the seats, your back against the other window. You were glad it was evening and no one would be able to see in.

“You are wearing far too much,” he tugged up the hem of your dress, and you nodded, letting him know it was okay to carry on. You loved that he sought consent every step of way…but right now you really just wanted it from him. He tugged up your dress and quickly pulled it off, tossing it into the front seat with a second thought. He studied you, his eyes wide and dark as looked you over; predator and prey, “you’re gorgeous.”

“Is it the lace?” you asked sweetly, touching over the soft white fabric of your bra. You saw his Adam’s apple bob up and nod as his cheeks flushed pink, “yeah, you like the lace. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He brushed his knuckles along your cheek before trailing his hand down your body, appreciating you all sprawled out for him, “can I taste you?”

“Fuck,” your eyes were dreamy as you stared back at him, “please. Please.”

He groaned in appreciation as he put his large hands on your breasts, squeezing them and causing you to arch into his touch at the feeling. He took the opportunity and reached behind you, unclasping your bra with ease. He studied it with a hum of approval before tossing to join your dress.

You were about to learn that Joel Miller had a very talented mouth. He kissed your lips before trailing his mouth all the way down, taking a nipple in his mouth. His free hand worked your other breast, tweaking your taut nipple and causing you to whimper slightly.

"Jesus Christ," you played with the curls at the nape of his neck as you arched into his touch. Your voice was soft and breathy as you tried to hang onto some semblance of composure, "feels so good."

“You’re so good,” he kissed the space between your breasts, “you’re so beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful.”

“Touch me,” your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you looked at him in almost desperation, “please, Joel.”

“I am touching you, sweetheart,” he looked so smug as he sucked a few more bruises to the soft, tender skin of your breasts, “where do you want me?”

“You’re the worst,” you whined as he grinned at you, “my pussy…please.”

“I can do that,” he kissed his way down your torso, lips roaming along your torso and brushing all over, causing gooseflesh to rise up in his wake. He stopped when he was between your thighs, fingers ghosting along the soft fabric of your panties, “so pretty. You wore for me?”

“Got them for you,” you admitted sheepishly, “thought you’d like them.”

“I do,” he tugged on the waistband which caused you to wiggle your hips to help get them off. They went into the pile with the rest of your clothes. He admired you, but you pulled him back into attention as you nudged him with your thigh, “what do you need, baby?”

“Clothes,” you tugged at the collar of his button-up, “you’re wearing too many. Take them off, handsome.”

“So demanding,” he chuckled before he sat back up and tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it over before following suit with his jeans, leaving him only in his boxers. He cocked his head to the side before giving you a cheeky girl, “happy now?”

“You’re so sexy,” you drank him, already making a plan to map out all the freckles on his torso with your mouth, “so damn sexy.”

"Flatterer," there was a tinge of pink to his cheeks that caused you to bite your lip. He was so smooth and yet still so bashful. Joel paused for a moment, hands on your hips as his thumbs rubbed circles onto your skin, "you sure you still want this?"

"Only if you want to-"

"With pleasure," there was a wicked glint to his eyes as he spread your thighs to take a look at your center. With anyone else you might have felt nervous and self conscious, but with Joel it was different; he looked at you with nothing short of pure reverence, “so fuckin’ pretty. And so wet. All for me?”

“Mhmm,” you made a small sound as Joel kissed along the inside of your thighs, making it a point to leave bruises that matched the art he had created along your neck and chest, “been wet since you picked me up. Look so damn fine tonight - always.”

“And so you do, sweet thing,” before you could say anything else, he dipped his head in between your thighs, finally touching where you needed him to. A small moan escaped your lips as soon as felt his tongue licking a long stripe along your soaked cunt. This man, this wonderful, amazing man, loved eating pussy, more importantly he already loved eating your pussy, “taste better than I imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this?” your question was cut off by a moan as he sucked on your clit, swirling his tongue expertly.

“Since that first night when it took everything for me not to take you home,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your mound, his chocolatey eyes warm and deep.

“Fuck me,” you moaned as teased at your entrance, gently a finger towards your hole. You gripped the back of the seat with one hand and the other hand was on the back of his head as you pressed him to your core, “fuck, fuck, fuck. Just like that.”

You could feel him humming as he chuckled, licking and sucking as inserted his finger and crooked it, effortlessly hitting your g-spot. You were squirming under him, feeling that familiar tingle start to blossom and bloom in your bones. He really was magic.

“You like that?” he rasped against your skin as all you could do was nod, “yeah, you do.”

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, trying to rut your hips against him. He got the hint as he added another finger in. You closed your eyes, starting to feel your orgasm start to wash over you.

“Gonna cum?” he asked, in a tone of mock concern in his voice, “I can feel you squeezing my fingers.”

“So good,” between his mouth and his fingers, you were seeing stars as you came, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“There you go, cum all over my fingers baby,” he worked you through your orgasm, not stopping until you were practically pushing his hand away, your entire body humming with energy.

You slowly opened your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Joel looked at you intently, refusing to break eye contact as he licked his fingers clean; the sight alone almost killed you, “you’re um…you’re really good at that.”

He shook his head in amusement, before leaning down to kiss you sweetly, “I really liked doing it.”

“Can I return the favor?”

“Not tonight,” he shook his head, “really need to be inside of you.”

“Well hurry up then,” you spread your shaky legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you. You could feel how painfully hard he was, “and fuck me.”

He groaned, low and rough, in your ear before you reached for the waistband of his boxers and swiftly tugged them down his legs. Your eyes widened as you admired his cock, which was just as large as you thought. You swallowed and Joel noticed the gleam in your eyes, “it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

“You’re…so big,” you blurted out as he laughed softly, “you’re really the whole package Joel Miller.”

“Glad you think so,” he swiped a finger through your still wet cunt before slowly stroking his cock. He took his thick member and dragged the head through your soaked folds, “you feel so good. You doin’ okay?”

“Yup,” you reached down and replaced his hand with yours as you lined him up at your entrance, using your foot on his ass to push him further into you, “more than.”

“Cheeky,” he pushed in, going slowly but not stopping until he was fully buried inside of your warm, wet heat. He took your face in his hands as he kissed you, beginning to move. You moaned into his mouth as he fucked you, his hands holding tightly onto your hips. You were sure that there would be finger shaped bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t mind in the slightest.

“I’m not going to break,” you told him and you saw the dark flash in his eyes, “harder please.”

He didn’t hesitate as he pulled back out almost fully before pushing back in and almost knocking the air from your lungs. Joel hesitated for just a moment, searching your face to make sure you were doing okay; you nodded softly in response.

He got the hint before he started to pound into you, causing the truck to rock slightly. You almost couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that if anyone was walking by they would know exactly what was happening.

But your brain was currently turning to mush as Joel fucked the life out of you. He was merciless, but all you could think about was how close you were again. He really knew what he was doing.

After a bit, you could feel that he was getting close too, his thrusts becoming sloppier as you felt him twitching deep within you.

He reached for your hand as he felt your velvety walls clenching around him and laced your fingers together, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Fuck. This man really had to be a romantic.

"'m close," he groaned as he kissed every part of your soft skin that he could reach, "where-"

"Inside," you insisted with wide doe eyes that would be the death of him, "I'm on the pill. Please - come inside of me."

He did not have to be told twice; there was definitely some baser, primal urge that had him wanting to fill you up as much as he could.

"Joel," his name was a sugar sweet whisper from your lips that had him slamming his hips into you a few more times before he came. He buried his face into your neck and murmured all sorts of filthy praise into your ear before you felt him spilling into you.

He reached between your bodies and circled your clit before you clenched around him, closing your eyes as that familiar and delicious warmth spread from your core and radiated throughout your body. You were almost positive that it had never felt this good before.

"Fuck baby," he brushed your hair out of your face, both of you still breathing heavily. You looped your arms around his neck before gently raking your fingers along his back, "you make the prettiest face when you come."

Your face felt like it was on fire from his praise, but you still liked hearing it. You liked everything with him.

He all but collapsed on you, warm and broad but still gentle and tender. The two of you exchanged shy smiles that quickly turned into soft laughter as you carded a hand through his messy hair. He preened into your affectionate touch before leaning down to kiss you, his lips lingering against yours.

"That was…"

"Incredible," he finished for you, earning him a sheepish nod, "made me feel like a horny teenager."

"You're no different than one," there was a teasing lilt to your voice that caused him to snort in amusement, "Joel?"

"Hmm?"

"I hope this doesn't ruin anything between us," you whispered, almost inaudible to his ears, "'cause I kind of…really like you."

"I kind of really like you too," you relaxed at his confession; the sex might have been incredibly mind-blowing but it wouldn't have been worth losing him for, "can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"When are you free next?" your heart swelled along with your smile.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he agreed softly, "if that sounds good to you?"

"Tomorrow is perfect."

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us

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