#that way i can always have a guest room!!

[authorhjk1]

is it possible you make a smut about karina? where you fuck her infront of a mirror as you watch her body bounce as you rail her hard and groping every inch of her body.

P.S i really like your works and your writing is supurb, i hope you continue writing more stories.

I apologize for the long wait. I had to put these two requests together, because I can't keep up with ones I already got and the new ones that are coming in. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

(Karina X Hwang Yeji X Male Reader)

You look across the table. Dinner tasted delicious and you also prepared cake for the birthday girl. The older one of the two sisters stares down at the chocolate cake, carefully taking a bite.

It's hard to say you hate her. She is your friend's daughter after all. But you can't help it. You've watched her grow up for more than just a couple of years. You treat both sisters almost the same, but Karina started to become something that you were afraid of. A stuck up, self-centered bitch.

It's a shame actually. But by the way her mother behaves, it's not that big of a surprise. She and your friend are sitting at your table as well. You invited the family of four, because of Karina's birthday. Because you wanted to be polite. Not because you wanted Karina to be around you.

The complete opposite applies to Yeji. The younger one of the two sisters. She has her rebellious side, for sure, but she has always been a sweet sunshine. Even now, her smile lights up your dining room as she takes her first bite of the cake.

"Mmmh. It's so delicious. You are a really great cook."

You crack a smile at Yeji's compliment.

Unable to not compare the two sisters, you notice that Karina hasn't said a word. Not even a thank you. She does eat the cake, which already is something, but she is just as rude as her mother is.

You sigh in disappointment. Your friend should've done better. Of course every parent makes mistakes, but Karina's mother is just on another level. But Yeji still turned out well. You can't get behind it. What exactly went wrong?

"Please let me help."

Yeji smiles at you as she stands up to collect the rest of the plates. She is the only one of your three guests who offered her help. To be fair, her father is currently on a call with his client. Mother and daughter are both busy with their phones it seems.

"Thank you, Yeji."

"I should really come over more often."

Turning around, you see Yeji, who is walking after you into the kitchen.

"Please don't. You are a lot of work."

"Very funny."

She puts down the plates, looks outside the kitchen and looks back at you.

"Who is your favorite? Me or Karina?"

You roll your eyes at her question. A question you've heard more than a thousand times over the last years. From both of them.

"I don't have favourites."

"Oh come on. I know you like me more."

"What would make you think that?"

"You invite me more often than her."

Holding the towel for the dishes in your hand, you throw it at her. The white cloth covers Yeji's face.

"You always come here uninvited. When was the last time I asked you to come?"

Yeji pulls the towel off of her head, pouting at you.

"You invited me for today. Didn't you?"

You turn towards your sink, getting ready to wash the dishes. Your stupid dishwasher broke two days ago.

"I invited all of you. That doesn't count."

Yeji steps next to you.

"You can be really mean sometimes."

"Just honest."

Yeji takes the cleaned plate out of your hand.

The two of you finish washing the dishes in silence. Once you are done, you motion Yeji to sit at the kitchen table.

"Got something as a reward for helping me."

"Really?"

Yeji looks at you with excitement in her eyes.

You open the door of the fridge. The young woman tries to look around you, wanting to know what you are going to give her.

"More cake?"

She smiles brightly as you turn back around.

"Not just any cake."

Grabbing two forks on your way, you sit down in front of Yeji. The cake in the middle.

"It's the cake I got from the publisher for finishing the last book."

"Wow. So that really is the last book of your series?"

You nod.

"I will write more. But I think there is not much more to tell about this one."

Yeji nods in response as well. She puts a piece of cake into her mouth.

"That's delicious."

You shush her.

"Be quiet, or we have to share"

Yeji giggles, before eating some more.

"If it was you last book though, you must've gotten a lot of fan letters and stuff."

"I did."

"Can I check them out?"

"That's kinda private, Yeji. Those people send their letters to me not you."

The young woman pouts.

"Hey, man."

Your friend walks in.

"I have to meet a client. I'm sorry about this, but I have to leave now."

"No problem, mate. I will makes sure the girls get home safely."

"Thank you."

"By dad!"

"Bye sweetie."

He kisses Yeji on the head, before he walks out.

"Well, this makes my original plan way easier."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What plan?"

"Having some alone time with you."

The tone of her voice starts changing. The sweet, innocent girl starts to fade into the background.

"Your sister and your mom are still here."

"Oh please. As if they are going to check on us."

Yeji takes another bite. More slowly this time. And with way more eye contact.

"We shouldn't be doing this with anyone around."

She gets up, walking around the table.

"No one will go into your study without permission."

"But-"

Yeji gracefully takes her seat on your lap.

"Am I right? Daddy?"

The 24 year old kinky college girl has finally found its way to the surface.

Fuck. You just can't resist her.

It happened around three or four years ago, if you remember correctly. Spending a lot of time with you growing up, Yeji naturally started to enjoy the things you enjoy too. One of them being writing. She didn't just enjoy it, she loved it. You helped her improve and let her beta read all your new stuff, before publishing it. You went with her to small classes and even competitions for young writers. It was nice to share something like this with her.

And before you could even realize what was happening, Yeji already graduated. You felt like time flew past way too quickly. But on that day, you found yourself sitting in the school's gym, applauding as she got up to receive her diploma. An honorary mention for being the founder of the school's writing club and being part of a nation wide competition was of course a given.

After only a couple of hours on the day, which should've been one of the best of her life, she stood at your doorstep, looking up at you. Her black hair a mess, puffy red eyes and tears running down her cheeks. Her father always planned for her to work at his company and eventually take over. But she decided to take a different path. The path you took. Or at least a very similar one. After she told him, she already got a scholarship at a local college, her dad wasn't fond of the idea at all. The two of them fought hard that day. The only person Yeji wanted to get comforted by that day was you.

Only a couple of minutes after she arrived and dumped all of this on you, her father called. Your friend was worried about her, since she just ran off and he didn't know where she was. You told him that she was with you and would stay the night. The two of them should have a calm discussion the next day.

Yeji was incredibly thankful and eventually went to the room she always stays in when she sleeps over. After having talked to her for several hours, you wanted to make sure that she was alright one last time, before going to bed yourself. You walked in on her lying on the big bed, her skirt on the floor, her fingers knuckle deep inside of her. The way she moaned your name is the reason why you are here now.

"Fine."

You sigh in defeat, feeling Yeji slightly grind against you.

"Go upstairs. I will tell your mom we are going to write on your project for college."

Yeji suddenly attacks you, pressing her lips against yours. Her tongue aggressively demands entrance into your mouth. The two of you engage into a hot but quick kiss.

"I'll be waiting."

With one last wink and sway of her hips, Yeji is gone.

You clear your throat, before standing up. Everytime you do this, you feel like the greatest sinner on earth. She is your friend's daughter. She is half your age. You were there on her first day of school. It always feels wrong when you think about it. And it always feels wrong afterwards. But if you only glance at Yeji, all that doubt goes out the window.

"Yeji and I are in my study in case you are looking for us. She needs help on her project."

Your friend's wife just nods, while you can see Karina rolling her eyes. You know what she thinks of her younger sister. You wish she could be only half as good as her. From what you've heard from Yeji, Karina likes her own college life. Or rather the boys in it. The stories her younger sister told you makes you think that your friend and his wife raised a self entitled slut.

Opening the big oak doors to your study and library, you see Yeji sitting at your desk.

Her warm smile makes you walk a little faster.

"Come here."

Once you reach her, you grab Yeji's chin, tilting her head upwards to meet yours. The two of you engage in another passionate kiss. While keeping your lips locked, you start to peel Yeji off your chair. You guide her towards the edge of your desk. Yeji hops onto the wooden surface, disconnecting from your lips for only a second.

Her new position enables you to properly run your hands all over her body. She moans into your mouth as she feels you exploring every inch of her.

"(Y/n)."

Yeji sighs your name, feeling one of your hands on her ass, while the other dips underneath her top. Your reach upwards, until you find her chest. Squeezing her tits over her bra makes Yeji moan again.

She eventually brakes away due to the lack of air. She smiles back up at you, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"Let me give you head."

Yeji slides off the edge of the desk, landing between your legs on her knees. You have to bite your lip as you watch Yeji unbuckle your belt.

"It has been so long since last time."

You chuckle at her eagerness as she pulls down your pants. Your cock springs free, landing on her beautiful face.

"Wow."

She gasps, like she does everytime.

You rub your cock all over her face. Yeji closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cock.

You never met someone who was this passionate about worshipping your cock. But Yeji is one of a kind. She was more eager than skilled at first. But you've trained your friend's daughter to be your personal slut. One would never see Yeji as that, when they would meet her on the street. But she can be a naughty little devil in your ear. Especially when her family comes over, or you visit them. She always tries to sneak off with you. Just like right now.

Yeji starts to suck you off in your study. Her eyes are still closed in bliss as she savors the taste of your cock. Her blowjob becomes more messy by the second. Soon, she is almost drooling on your cock. You take a fistful of her gorgeous orange hair and you start to thrust into her mouth. Yeji moans, opening her mouth as wide as possible, relaxing her throat.

"Damn, princess."

You've always called her and her sister that. But since the two of you started having sex, this nickname has a another layer to it. A dirty one at that. Because right now, Yeji doesn't look like a princess at all. She is on her knees, drooling spit onto your cock, her thighs and the floor. Your dick starts to hit the back of her throat as you begin to thrust into her harder. Soon, only the sounds of her gags fill your study. It's a beautiful melody. One that you would love to hear every day.

Yeji takes your mouth fucking like the good girl she has been raised to be. No complaining, no dirty look, not even the hint of a struggle. She seems to be in her element.

You unfortunately don't have the stamina to keep up the pace for too long. Eventually, you have to slow down, enabling Yeji to take a proper breath through her nose. Spit is covering her chin by now. You keep thrusting into her mouth. Slow, but still with purpose. But Yeji's eyes slowly start to turn dark with lust. Signaling you that she can only hold out this long without getting touched.

After a while, you finally pull out of her completely. A tear is rolling down her cheek, which she scoops up with the back of one of her fingers. Yeji takes a moment to catch her breath properly.

"B-Bend me over."

Her voice sounds raspy and dry. Which is odd, because there is spit covering everything. Her chin, lips, shirt, thighs and the floor too.

"Your manners, Yeji."

You're reminded how often you said that years ago. When you had important visitors and the two sisters stayed at yours over the weekend.

"Sorry. Please, daddy?"

She pouts cutely. Like she always does, when she wants something.

"We still have to be quick though."

Luckily, you always keep your desk clean. Quickly putting your laptop to the side, you turn Yeji around afterwards.

"Daddy..."

She moans as she feels your hand pressing against her back, making her bend over the wooden surface. Since your desk is quite high and quite big, Yeji can barely hold onto the edge on the other side. And she has to lift her feet off the ground, if she wants to do so. Only her tiptoes stay in contact with your wooden floor.

You reach around her, quickly unbuttoning her white pants, pulling them off of her.

"You came prepared, I see."

The lack of underwear has an obvious meaning. Yeji wiggles her butt at you, tempting you to just enter her immediately.

"Just for you, daddy."

Everytime she calls you that, you can't help but think about how wrong this all is. She could be your own daughter. Buth there she is, bend over your desk, telling you what she wants you to do to her.

"Can you please fuck me now? I've waited the whole day for this. I need it..."

Yeji sighs in desperation, her cheek resting on the dark wood.

You stand behind her, aligning your cock with her wet folds. You can see them glistening, when you pull her cheeks apart a little.

"Fuck, Yeji."

You can't believe how beautiful she is. How good her body looks. You wait for just a little longer, making Yeji squirm in anticipation, before you finally push inside of her.

"Oh god!"

A deep moan echoes through your study as you part Yeji's walls. Her tight pussy is dripping wet, making it easy for you to slide into her completely. You wonder, how she is so turned on. Because of you? Because you're her dad's friend? Because she has been waiting for this all day?

You are not sure. But you can say that this makes up for all the bad attitude her sister threw in your direction today.

Soon, you find yourself indulging in the pleasure that you take from Yeji's young and tight body. Every part of her seems to be made with perfection. You can't help but let your free hand roam her body. The other one is holding her waist as you keep thrusting into her.

Reaching under her shirt, you grope her breasts. A string of moans escapes her mouth. One louder and dirtier than the previous one.

"Harder, daddy! Please!"

You finally give into her begging. You know, if you fuck her harder, you won't be able to keep your orgasm off for much longer. And you still want to enjoy more of her body.

"Get on the desk."

Yeji takes a moment to comprehend what you just said. But she eventually manages to peel herself off your desk. You turn her around and push her back on it. Now on her back, Yeji looks up at you as you start thrusting into her again.

"Yes, daddy!"

You reach forward, bunching her shirt up over her tits. You push the bra up as well, finally revealing her small perky tits. Your other hand is holding onto one of her luscious thighs. Fingers digging into her soft skin.

"Keep going..."

Yeji slowly starts to lose the ability to speak. Her words start to turn into letters loosely strung together. It tells you that she isn't far away from her own climax.

You play with her tits, kneading them and pinching a nipple occasionally.

"Oh..."

She tries to say something again, but your strong thrusts make her eyes roll back. Her head, just like her back, is rubbing against the wooden surface of the desk in the rhythm of your pounding.

Your own desire for release starts to overwhelm you. The sight of Yeji, squirming and moaning on the desk she used to sit on and watch you write a cute story for her, makes you want to ruin her completely. Both of your hands are now holding onto her full thighs, enabling you to pull her back into you way harder than before.

The sound of your skin hitting hers echo through your study, accompanied by the young girl's moans.

"Daddy! Cuming!"

Yeji cries out as the pleasure finally proves too much for her. Her body shakes atop your desk as her orgasm overwhelms her. You don't slow down, pounding her through her high as you chase your own. Yeji's body often has that affect on you. That desire to completely wreck her, leaving her a whining, dirty mess.

"Ohhh..."

Yeji's drawn out mix of moan and cry sounds like music to your ears. Her pussy contracts around you at the same time, demanding that you cum inside.

"Princess..."

You groan, realizing that you don't know if this is a safe day for her or not. You want to fill Yeji with your cum, but you don't want to knock up your friend's daughter. Yeji is too far gone to care at the moment. Her body keeps squirming on the wooden surface, moans leaving her body in irregular intervals. You try to hold on for longer, but you eventually can't stop yourself.

With the last ounce of strength you have left, you regretfully leave Yeji's snug hole. As you pull out, that last squeeze of Yeji's inner walls makes you explode. You shoot your load all over her body. Her midriff is the first thing that's covered in your cum. Her chest quickly follows as strings of your semen hit her tits.

You feel your legs weaken as you calm down yourself, taking in the view in front of you. Yeji lies on the desk, her eyes still partially closed. A light smile plays around her lips as her heavy breath makes her chest heave. Her upper body is painted with your cum as she just lies there. Like a beautiful painting. A piece of art.

You walk down the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Yeji kept you busy with her project after the two of you had some fun. She does need to finish it soon, which means you didn't lie earlier. You are really helping her.

Opening the door to the bathroom, you suddenly stop moving. You look at Karina, who is standing in the middle of the room.

You notice her phone, which is standing on the sink, leaning against the lower part of your mirror. Karina isn't just taking a normal picture. She has hooked a finger inside her cleavage and is pulling the hem of her dress down. Despite looking at her from the side, you can see her breasts, almost completely exposed, through the mirror.

"Karina. What the hell are you doing?"

You see the young girl jumping, when she hears your voice. She looks at you as she takes her hand off her dress, letting it fall back into place. You see her roll her eyes before answering.

"Nothing."

"This doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Whatever."

Despite her disgusting attitude, Karina is still your friend's daughter and Yeji's sister. You still care for her. You glance at her phone, before looking back at her.

"Were you taking pictures of yourself?"

"So what?"

She reaches for the phone.

"Are you sending them to someone?"

"Not your business."

You hold back the desire to just give her a small clap on the head. Just a really small one.

"Karina, you shouldn't send this to anyone, whom you don't trust."

"I can do what I want."

You nod.

"That's true. I'm just saying, please be aware of the consequences."

"Stop annoying me already."

Karina is obviously checking the photos she took, while you are still trying to talk to her.

"I wouldn't need to annoy you, if you wouldn't act like this."

She raises an eye brow, but keeps looking at her phone.

"You can't tell me what to do."

Karina places the phone back on the sink. She goes through her hair, looking at the mirror. She hasn't even looked at you properly yet since you came in. It makes your blood boil even more.

"Actually, I can. This is my house. Plus, I'm your godfather."

"Oh no, I'm scared."

You watch as she bites on her nail and winks at the phone. You hear it taking a picture. She probably used a timer or something.

You take a deep breath.

"Get out."

She keeps going as if she didn't hear you. When she is about to pull the top of her dress down again, you stop her by grabbing her arm.

"I. Said. Get out."

You speak through your teeth, trying to stay calm. You pull her towards the door.

"Ouch. Stop it!"

Karina uses both hands to push you away. You let go, expecting her to get her phone and walk out on her own. Your eyes widen when you see her standing in front of the mirror again, hooking a thumb underneath one of the straps on her shoulders, smiling at the phone.

"You can wait outside, you know."

You were already annoyed by her attitude during the meal earlier. Her manners are pretty much non existent. You managed to hold yourself back. And Yeji did an incredible job to make up for her older sister's behavior. But there is only so much you can take. If Karina was a couple of years younger, you would've just picked her up and carried her out. You used to do that, when she was being a brat at an younger age.

"Karina."

You realize your tone has become threatening. You reach out for her shoulder, wanting to stop her from letting the strap fall off of it. She swats your hand away. It lands in her hair. And before you can even think about it. You've already taken a fistful.

"One last time. Get. Out."

You growl into her ear.

"Let me go!"

She tries to push you away again, but this time you stay steady.

"Stop it. You know I'm stronger than you."

"I'm gonna tell dad!"

"So what? You think he is gonna like the fact you take this kind of pictures of yourself?

Karina winces as you tug at her hair a little too hard.

"Leave me alone you ass!"

She finally reached the limit. She broke the last wall of self restraint you had left.

You push her against the sink, slightly bending her over it. The both of you stare at each other in the mirror. She finally looks at you properly.

"Stop being a rude bitch first."

The words left your mouth before you could think about them. You planned on saying something different. They just came out. You almost expect Karina to cry, when you see her eyes grow wide.

"Fuck you!"

You were wrong.

Karina reaches behind her with one hand to push you away. The other holds onto the sink.

"No. Fuck you. You have no manners at all."

"So what, huh!?"

She glares at you through the mirror, slightly raising her chin.

"Apologize and behave properly. Or this will have consequences."

You used to say that line when the two sisters were younger. It always worked. You were like a fun uncle for them. Whenever you became this serious, they knew they did something wrong.

But now, Karina just scoffs.

"I'm not ten anymore. What are you gonna do? Punish me?"

"I will."

"Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I can do what I want."

"Not under my roof."

You point at her phone.

"Delete the pictures you took and go downstairs."

"No."

"Karina..."

You growl, pushing her forward with your hand on the back of her head. She stumbles against the sink.

"Delete them."

"No."

Karina crosses her arms and glares at you, once she has regained her composure. You reach for it yourself. She tries to stop you, but you are too strong for her.

"Give it back!"

You take a step back and hold her in place. Since your arms are longer than hers, Karina can't reach for her phone.

You delete the first to pictures without even looking at them. But when you see more and more of them, you start to realize how sexy she looks in them.

What she lacks in manners and attitude, she seems to make up for with her body. You can't deny the fact that Karina's beauty rivals her sister's.

Once you are done, you look at her again.

"Did you seriously just delete all of them?"

Karina asks with disbelief in her voice.

"Yes. Now, get out."

"No. I need some content for this weekend. You just deleted like twenty pictures or something."

"What content?"

You furrow your eye brows.

"None of your business. Give me my phone back."

You ignore her outstretched hand, quickly scanning through the apps on her phone. You see a white icon with a blue O on it. You realize what she is doing.

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

You show her what you found.

"So? I need to pay my bills somehow."

"Does your father know about this?"

"Don't you dare."

Karina glares at you.

"Oh trust me. I will tell him."

"No way."

Now she finally looks a little concerned.

"Karina, you shouldn't be doing this. Just because you look nice, doesn't mean you have to sell your body for some money."

"You think I look nice?"

She mockingly raises and eyebrow.

"That's wasn't my point Karina."

"Come on, you can be honest. Do you know how much guys pay me for these pictures?"

"I don't give a fuck."

"But I do. If you are gonna tell on me, I'm gonna tell on you too."

"I'm a grown man and your dad's friend. What could you possible know about me that would be worth his time?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe the fact his best friend rails his daughter on a regular basis?"

"What?"

You are too surprised to hide it. You and Yeji made sure that no one would find out. You were always careful. How...?

"See? Seems like I do have something of value."

"How do you know?"

"Me and Yeji share a dorm at college. Whenever she doesn't see you for longer than a week, she plays with herself, when she thinks I'm asleep. I can't believe she calls you daddy."

You close your eyes in disbelief. Yeji... Why does she have to be so fucking horny all the time?

"Fine. Alright. I won't tell on you. You won't tell on me."

A sly, victorious smile plays around Karina's lips.

"Deal."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are rude all the time."

"I'm not rude."

It's your turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I have my reasons."

You let go of her hair earlier. She crosses her arms in front of her, looking away.

"I don't care what your reasons are. So leave."

You gesture towards the door.

Karina doesn't move.

"You deleted all the pictures. I need new ones."

"I still don't like what you are doing. Leave."

She shakes her head.

"Help me with this."

You realize that your argument isn't flawless.

"You're my friend's daughter. No way."

"Seriously? You creampie my sister, but you don't want to fuck me?"

How are you going to get out of this?

"I'm not shooting a movie here or something. If you want someone to fuck you on camera, find a pornstar or something."

Karina rolls her eyes.

"That's where you draw the line?"

"Karina..."

She ignores you, taking the phone out of your hand.

"You don't need to do anything but fuck me. Shouldn't be that hard."

She sets the camera to record, before placing it back on the sink.

You think about it for a moment. It really isn't that hard. You are fucking Yeji already. So why not go all the way? It's not like she is gonna tell her dad.

Karina leans over the sink, looking back at you over her shoulder.

"Give it to me. Daddy."

That last word makes you jump into action.

It sounds so much different to when Yeji says it. The younger one uses more affection. Whenever she says it, you feel like she would do anything for you. Or rather your cock.

When Karina says it, it's sounds more lustful. Maybe even slightly condescending.

Yeji is the good girl, while Karina is the bad one.

You quickly unbuckle your belt and let your pants drop to the floor. Karina watches you through the mirror as you reach for the hem of her dress.

She glances at the phone, when she feels you pushing her dress up. You reveal her ass. Slightly bigger than Yeji's. You can't help but compare. Your hands wander over her skin. The same thrill you feel whenever you have sex with Yeji enters your body. The thrill of doing something forbidden. The fact that she is filming this makes it even hotter, now that you think about it.

"Don't tease me, daddy."

A knowing smile plays on Karina's lips.

You align your cock with her entrance. Her wet folds make it easy to slip inside. It seems like taking the pictures earlier turned her on.

"Damn, daddy."

Karina breaths heavily as you push inside. For some illogic reason you expected her to be not as tight as Yeji. You are proven wrong.

"Fuck you are tight."

You can't help but give her ass a rewarding spank.

"That's right daddy. Punish me for being such a slut."

You slap her again and again with every inch you push further into her. Karina moans whenever you do so. Her body is being pushed forward with every slap. Her ass cheeks jiggle deliciously.

Once you bottom out inside of her, you look at Karina in the mirror. Her half lid eyes stare back at you. She is biting her lip, trying to contain a loud moan.

You place both your hands on her waist, pushing down a little. Karina's back arches as a result, enabling you to push just a little bit further.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

It seems like you've reached her limit. Karina hisses as she tries to get accustomed to your cock.

"If I had known you are this big..."

She isn't able to finish her sentence, when you pull out of her.

You watch Karina's eyes roll back as your cock rubs against the length of her inner walls.

"Don't give me all the credit."

You chuckle as you push back inside.

"Fuck."

Another moan escapes Karina's lips.

"Am I tighter than my sister?"

A question you've never even dreamed of hearing. One so dirty, you never thought one of them would be able to say it.

"You are."

Your honest answer makes her smirk. You wipe it off her face a moment later. Because you start fucking her properly now.

"Holy shit."

Karina watches as you thrust into her again and again. Your hips snap against hers, making the sounds echo through the bathroom. She tries to silence herself once again by biting her lip, but your thrusts prove to be too much for her. Eventually, her mouth hangs open, lewd sounds coming from the deepest parts of her throat.

Your eyes, which were focused on her face, are now slowly wandering downwards. You get captivated by the way her tits move, while you fuck her. Reaching forward with one hand, you grope Karina's boobs over her dress.

They are bigger than Yeji's. You don't have to touch her to know it. It's obvious.

"You like mine more than my sister's. Right?"

Karina manages to ask another question like this.

"I would like you more if you would just shut up."

Another grin flashes across her face.

"If I'm still talking, you are just not fucking me hard enough."

You take it as a challenge. With one hand now in her hair and the other on her waist, you start to fuck Karina harder and faster. You push her against the sink with every thrust into her. A red line where she hits the sink appears on her skin.

"Look at yourself. Getting fucked in someone else's bathroom like a whore."

You don't know where these words came from. This situation, Karina herself, makes you do things you never thought of doing. You pull at her hair, forcing her to lift her head, which dropped between her shoulders earlier.

Karina's wide eyes stare at you as you take her from behind. Her tight walls squeeze you and try to stop you from leaving, whenever you pull back.

"Mmh, yes."

Karina moans, some spit falling out of her mouth in the process. She starts to lose her composure as you hit just the right spot with every single thrust. Her and Yeji's body feel similar to you. You can tell where her sensitive spots might be and you stimulate them properly, making a squirming mess out of the young woman.

You move your hand from her waist to her shoulders, quickly pulling the straps of her dress off. The upper half slips down her body, until the whole dress is bunched up right above her waist.

Karina's tits sway from side to side as you pound her from behind. You take one of them into your hand, squeezing it and earning another deep moan.

By now, you think Karina has forgotten about her phone. She seems to let herself go, submitting to your thrusts. Your hand keeps exploring her voluptuous chest, squeezing her tits and tugging at her nipples randomly.

Your cock in her pussy keeps hitting just the right spots. The combination of your pounding and your groping has Karina moaning and shivering. She watches herself getting fucked. It's something she starts to enjoy very much. Her pussy tightens even more around you in response.

You let your hand explore more of her body, while the other one keeps her head in place by holding her hair. You admire her collarbone and shoulders for a moment, before quickly moving past her chest. You feel the toned muscles of her stomach underneath your palm. As you keep fucking her and your hand moves further down, you could swear you can feel your cock through her belly.

You press against the spot and suddenly, Karina starts to shake more, her pussy squeezing you tighter.

"Daddy, fuck!"

It's the last words she manages to force out. From that moment onwards, Karina is a mumbling mess. You can't tell what she is trying to say. Her lips quiver uncontrollably. Her pussy is almost painfully tight as you feel more and more of her fluids leaking out of her.

Eventually, your hand reaches her clit. You start rubbing it, encouraging her with your fingers to cum on your cock. Karina's closed eyes shoot open. Saliva still drips from her parted lips.

"Ohhhh!"

A loud cry is the only thing she can do to announce her orgasm. Karina watches herself climaxing. She sees how her body twitches and squirms. How her muscles on her midriff seem to flex. She feels her own pussy tightening around your cock, contracting uncontrollably. Her arms and legs grow weak.

You keep fucking Karina through her orgasm. She can't do anything but take it. She can't tell you to stop. She tries to watch herself as long as possible. But when you somehow drive yourself into the deepest depths of her vagina, Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head. She sees stars, her mind eventually breaking from the pleasure.

You feel yourself chasing your own orgasm as you watch your friend's daughter through the mirror. Her breath has left fog on the glass. Only now do you realize her hands don't rest on the sink anymore. They are pressed against the surface of the mirror.

The sight of Karina like this slowly makes you reach your high.

"Fuck, Karina. Your pussy is gonna milk me dry."

You manage to push out the words as you try to hang on as long as possible. Her tight snatch keeps squeezing your cock, making it harder for you to properly fuck her like before.

"Let me taste your cum, daddy. I need it."

Karina's eyes reflect her desire and need for your cum. She almost unconsciously licks her lips.

You count to ten, trying to stay as long as possible inside of her. You want to savor every last second of her tight pussy wrapped around your cock.

But you have to pull out eventually. You leave the snug tightness of her snatch.

"Come here."

Karina drops to the tile covered floor, kneeling in front of you.

Just like you held Yeji an hour ago, you grab Karina's chin. But not to kiss her. You make her crawl towards the glass wall of your shower.

You press her cheek against it, signaling her to stay like this. The sight quickly makes you cum.

You start to shoot your load all over Karina's face. You paint her skin with your cum. She looked almost cute a moment ago. Now, she looks like a cheap whore.

"Fuck, that tastes good."

Karina is sucking her finger clean, after having scooped up some of your cum. You can't believe you came on both of your friend's daughters within two hours.

The older of the two now looks up at you, her tongue cleaning the cum off her face around her mouth.

"Would you like to become my partner for my content? You would get a cut off the profit."

"Karina-"

"You think we can convince Yeji to join us?"

"I don't think we should-"

"I think people are gonna be willing to pay if they know the two of us are actual sisters."

It feels like you are drowning in sin. It's bad enough you had sex with one of your friend's daughters more times than you could count. You now managed to fuck the older sister as well. And now she wants you to help her make money by filming you, fucking her and her sister?

"This isn't right Karina."

You try to do the right thing. But that ship has kinda sailed already. And you can't deny that a threesome with the two sisters would be mind blowing.

"Come on, daddy. You can do with me what you want. As long as we film it. And I'm pretty sure you are already using Yeji like a sex toy anyway."

[demieyesore]

Headcanons about Sam Monroe with Deadbeat Dad!James

Tag List - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely @yourenogoodforme @gallerygourmet @heartsforanakin @helendeath @ysrjune @anisangeldust @catnipaddictt @ahano @itachicha @02ibiskywitt05 @espinathena-17

Whenever James drops you off or picks you up without Sam, he insists you sit in the front seat. Almost always ends with his hand on your thigh or even toying with your clit

If Sam is in the car, the both of you are sitting in the back. James has the radio on to try and distract himself when he sees his son’s hand wandering down between your thighs from the mirror.

Sam definitely protects you when he notices his Dad’s weird behaviors. James would be sitting in the living room, watching TV, only to call out your name oh so sweetly and ask you to get him a beer. “Y/n, sweetheart, grab me a beer?” While holding up the one he’s just finishing, gesturing to the kind he drinks. Sam rolling his eyes and retaliating in your defense, “Get it your fuckin’ self, they’re a guest here.”

James is 100% at least a little misogynistic…he expects you to be sweet and obedient, although he doesn’t get angry when you’re not, if anything it just gives him an excuse to be more rough with you.

James refers to you as princess, Sam knows about this little nickname and fucking HATES it. He doesn’t realize how his father feels about you and just assumes it’s in a condescending way. A way to tease you about how pure you are compared to their fucked up family.

Since James is a deadbeat, I like to imagine that he gets money from fixing up cars. Depending on where they live, he either works in the Garage or just out in the front yard. He also asks Sam’s mom for money.

They definitely don’t live in a good house. If they own a house that is, it’s definitely on the crappy side, run down. If they don’t own a place, they live in a trailer park.

Sam overall lives with his Mom, only spending his weekends at his Dad’s. This makes it hard for James because he has to go the weekdays without you, only to finally see you and you’re clinging onto his son.

Sam often complains to you about his Dad, him being part of the reason that he started using drugs. It always breaks your heart to hear about Sam struggling because you do genuinely love him to death. It’s just complicated… you hate the fact that James was part of the reason that Sam became this way.

You definitely did NOT jump at the chance to fuck James. It was more of a slow-burn thing that happened gradually through time. You are still so fucking torn because you feel so guilty for cheating on Sam but James also owns part of your heart.

Honestly James doesn’t feel guilty about it, maybe from time to time when his son isn’t being an asshole to him, but typically…he’s just pissed off that you’re dating his son and not him.

Sam on the other hand, has no idea and if he did all he would do is fucking yell and scream in your faces. Pretty tears staining his face while saying his accusations.

I know that some of you reading this…including me writing this…wants to say that there would be a threesome but in reality I don’t think they could or would ever do that. James is too possessive over you, although out of the two, I do feel like he’d be the more likely to agree to it. Sam, however would be absolutely LIVID. Talking about how he must not be enough for you if you so desperately need his dad’s dick.

Before Sam becomes aware of this secret relationship between you and his dad. It was already so hard to keep it on the low. James would easily smack your ass if Sam wasn’t around to see for just a second.

You could have just had sex with Sam, cuddling and falling asleep only to wake up at 2 am, go down to their kitchen to grab some water and end up pressed against the counter, James hand gripping your hair and his other over your mouth to silence your moans.

Okay so unfortunately this is all I can think of at the moment about this 💔

[shitouttabuck]

this could be the year for the real thing

buck/eddie | 1.7k | 7x06 coda(ish)

Eddie can count on one hand the number of times he’s been this horrifically hungover. His pre-teenage-pregnancy body bounced back blessedly quickly from tailgate parties and keg stands and beer pong tournaments, but after that? His cousins threw his bachelor party before he married Shannon, which involved a lot of mixed liquor, and then there were a couple miserable nights out after she left him, and now, last night, him and Buck the sole bachelor party members standing after Chim didn’t show up.

This is his worst hangover, because at least all the other times he wasn’t seized with worry about one of his closest friends and regret that he and Buck hadn’t noticed the empty hotel bed the night before. The nausea from hell doesn’t help, either.

Chim’s safe now, under the careful monitor of Cedars hospital staff and Maddie no more than three feet away from him at all times. The relief is a palpable thing, and Buck offering him a steaming paper cup of green tea soothes the churning in his gut a little bit, too.

He takes a sip and sighs gratefully, slumping against Buck in the hospital waiting room chairs when he takes the seat beside Eddie.

“Still queasy?” Buck asks, voice a rumble.

“Mm,” Eddie says, “back-to-back shots of tequila and sambuca are not it.”

Buck shudders beside him. “Don’t,” he begs, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. “I’m still very much in range of hurling.”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Eddie’d only managed half a banana when he went home to shower and change, but he knows Buck’s been with Maddie most of the day, and when it comes to taking care of other people, he sometimes forgets about himself.

“Had a granola bar,” Buck says, eyes still closed. “Can’t—don’t wanna think about food yet.”

His stomach chooses then to grumble audibly, with traitorously comedic timing, and Eddie snorts. Buck opens one eye to grin at him.

“Don’t listen to her,” he says, patting his belly. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“She doesn’t, huh? Then I guess she’s not interested in stopping by the juice bar on Sunset on the way home? Some sweet, sweet smoothies, all that fresh fruit and hydration, don’t even have to chew…”

Buck’s stomach rumbles interestedly and they both laugh.

“That sounds—so good, actually,” Buck admits. “We can pick up the peanut butter one for Chris, he’s always hankering—”

He breaks off as Hen appears at the end of the hallway, looking around and hurrying over as soon as she spots them. Eddie doesn’t think anything’s wrong—she’s beaming—but he and Buck sit up quickly in their seats anyway.

“Ugh,” Buck says, and Eddie’s dizziness at the sudden movement wholeheartedly agrees.

“We’re having a motherfucking wedding,” Hen grins, tugging them both to their feet, uncaring of their delicate dispositions. “Right here, right now.”

“Hospital wedding?” Buck asks, eyes wide. “Holy shit, okay, what do we need—who do we call—fuck—”

“Calm down, Buckaroo,” Hen smiles. “Just get friends and family over here, Karen’s gonna pick up Maddie’s dress, I’m gonna call Bobby, and we’re having a wedding.”

Buck’s already pulling up a copy of the guest list on his phone, squinting at it and muttering names under his breath.

“You boys got this?” Hen asks while dialling Bobby.

“Yep,” Eddie gives her a mock salute. “We’ll split the list and make some calls.”

He types out half the names Buck reads off to him in his notes app, and the two of them work through them methodically, calling Chim and Maddie’s nearest and dearest for this impromptu ceremony.

“Chris will kill us if he misses it,” he says suddenly, and Buck looks up at him, mid-text.

“He’s with Isabel, right? Pepa’s place is only a ten minute drive from here.”

Eddie nods. “I don’t have my car, though. You drove me.”

Buck tosses him the Jeep keys. “I’ll finish calling people, you go get them.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, and nearly bodies himself with the instinctive urge to lean over and kiss Buck on the cheek as he stands. It’s surprising, even though it shouldn’t be, because it’s an urge he fought and failed about thirty times last night, Buck’s sweaty skin pressed to his, salty under his mouth every time he dropped an innocuous, friendly kiss to his face with nothing but alcohol in his veins.

It hadn’t seemed out of place then, everything shiny and bright, Buck leaning right back into him.

Now, under the fluorescents of the hospital, organising a makeshift wedding for their family? Eddie doesn’t think it would land quite the same.

“Back in twenty,” he tells Buck instead, and has to physically tear himself away from the smile Buck turns his way, warm and golden under the harsh lights.

Chris and Abuela are delighted to be included, and, true to his word, they’re back at the hospital as the rest of the guests begin arriving, too.

Eddie’s—okay, he’s not going to say he’s not a crier, it’s just that his best friend is Buck, who cries at anything remotely tearjerky, so in comparison, Eddie’s not a crier. Now, though, they’re both very much damp-cheeked, much like everyone else crowded into this hospital room, watching Maddie and Chim exchange rings and vows with little Jee between them.

They’re a family, have been and would still be even if they never got hitched, but the fact that Chim refused to wait another few weeks, another few days, another minute before marrying Maddie? Eddie’s chest aches in the best way, and he slings an arm around Chris, and, before he knows he’s doing it, he looks for Buck.

The ceremony’s over, and Buck’s grinning at his phone, and Eddie pats for his own automatically, anticipating a goofy text.

But Buck’s edging backward, slipping out of the room, still grinning at his phone, and the ache inside Eddie spreads like an inkstain, blotting his insides.

And then Buck reappears with Tommy, which Eddie knew he was going to do, because who else would have Buck smiling at his phone like that, leaving his sister’s wedding even for a minute. Not me, Eddie doesn’t think. He doesn’t.

He’s not ready to make sense of the churning inside him—he doesn’t think he can blame the hangover for this one—when he clocks Tommy’s soot-stained everything and the way Buck’s own smudgy face matches like a puzzle piece.

He sees the way Chim notices, and Hen and Karen, Bobby’s eyes going wide and then soft. He sees the way Margaret Buckley doesn’t even attempt to school her face into anything but distaste and he hates her, but Buck’s not even looking at her. He’s looking at Bobby, and then he’s looking at Chim, and he’s smiling, this wide, guileless spread of happiness across his face.

Eddie’s helpless to smile too, the churning too complicated to parse beyond easy joy at every step of Buck’s sexuality journey, and this second-hand relief he’s not sure he’s got any entitlement to—he doesn’t, does he? Sure, he can be relieved that Buck doesn’t feel like he has to stay closeted, that everyone who matters loves him just the same, but he doesn’t get to feel like any of the relief belongs to him. Not now.

Not—yet.

Tommy’s made his way to Chim’s bedside to congratulate them properly, and Buck’s squeezing through the guests to get to the Diazes.

“Hey, bud,” he says to Chris. “Hi, Isabel.”

His face is still a smear of soot, and Chris giggles. “Buck. Your face.”

Buck frowns in confusion and Eddie steps over to him, hand already reaching to wipe the soot off his face, just like he has a hundred times at work. Except Tommy’s already there, licking his thumb and rubbing firmly at Buck’s chin, a gesture so familiar to Eddie that watching it happen separate from him feels like getting punched in the throat.

And beside the joy and the second-hand relief, there’s—this sense of profound loss. This emptiness, a space inside him he didn’t realise Buck had been occupying all this time. And now it’s like Eddie’s entered the room, finally, but the door is swinging shut on the far wall and Buck’s footsteps are echoing softer and softer as he leaves. Eddie’s late, he’s missed something he didn’t know was waiting, much less had a timeline on it.

The room empties out slowly, everyone giving the Buckley-Hans some space to rest, and Buck disappears down the hall hand-in-hand with Tommy.

“Y’all ready to go home?” Eddie asks Abuela and Chris. “We can get take-out.”

“Is Buck coming?” Chris asks.

“Uh, I don’t think so, mijo,” Eddie glances down the hall. “Although—” he pats his pocket, retrieving the Jeep keys, and startles when Buck appears by his shoulder.

“You have my keys,” he informs Eddie, stretching his hand out for them. Eddie drops them in his palm dutifully. “Juice bar? The fancy one on Sunset.”

Chris whoops excitedly, and Eddie smiles, even as his brow furrows.

“You’ve not got a hot date?” he asks Buck quietly as they walk to the exit.

“I drove you,” Buck shrugs.

Eddie rolls his eyes, stopping Buck with a hand at his elbow. “I think we can manage getting a cab.”

“I seem to recall you promising me a ‘sweet, sweet smoothie,’” Buck says, raising an eyebrow at Eddie. “You tryna stiff me, Eds?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie lifts his hands in surrender. “Uh—do you wanna ask Tommy along?”

“Nah,” Buck says easily. “Maybe another time. He’s just gotten off shift. I’m seeing him tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods slowly, ache bittersweet. “Just us, then.”

Buck beams. “Me and my boys,” he crows, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him forward so he can wrap the other one around Chris. Isabel makes a noise of offense, and Buck hastily amends, “Me and my boys and Abuela. Dream team!”

Christopher groans at the very public embarrassment and Abuela smiles indulgently at Buck and Eddie lets himself get pulled along, safe in this room in his heart that won’t ever be empty, even if Buck’s not filling it in the same capacity as Eddie’s getting ready to allow himself to want.

It doesn’t matter. The door on the far wall’s not quite swung shut after all; it sits ajar, crack of light and Buck’s love spilling through. Maybe one day he’ll come back through it. Maybe one day Eddie’ll follow after him enough to ask.

[itsabouttimex2]

A Brand New Journey:

Part Five

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

Macaque has always been so good to you. Even from the first day you accidentally stumbled onto him, he had been kind.

Your arm had been gashed open by an unfortunate fall, dripping blood and throbbing in pain with each shaky step forward. Although you had hoped to get home before dark and patch yourself up with an ever dwindling first-aid kit, praying that there were enough bandages and antiseptic left for the wound.

But then there were two sets of footsteps close behind, spurring you to disregard caution and start sprinting down the street-

Whereupon you had bumped into one very strange demon, wearing an inconspicuous ru and sporting a tattered scarf.

“Going somewhere, kiddo? You shouldn’t be in such a rush, you now. You might get hurt. Ah, but…”

His hand then shot forward to clamp around your wrist, turning it over to examine your bleeding forearm.

“Looks like you already did, huh? Here, let me just…”

Rip. Shriiiip.

The precise shredding of thick fabric, his clawed fingers cutting a rectangular strip from the already ragged scarf. He had placed one end on your wrist, then gave you a strange grin.

“Hang in there, kiddo.” The simian warned you almost too late, given barely a second to brace for the stinging pain of having a wound forcibly bound shut with naught but pressure and cloth.

Biting back a wail and a set of fresh tears, you watched the monkey demon firmly tie off the end of the makeshift bandage.

It had been such a simple thing to do- but you still cherished him for it all the same.

How you’ve come to cherish your precious mentor, who stares down at you now with a strange smile.

Lifting a sleeve to your puffy eyes, an effort is made to stand up- only for Macaque to push you back down.

“I don’t think you’re steady enough for that just yet, kiddo.” Base words to convince you to do as he says, and you believe him. You always do.

Have you ever not believed him? Even for a moment, has there ever been any doubt in your heart?

He wraps the crimson scarf a little tighter around you, making sure that it covers your shoulders and neck.

“Now, what’d you bring all the way out here? You really should know better than to carry such a fancy bag in a neighborhood like this, kiddo.”

Was this all your fault?

Maybe you should’ve wrapped the mooncakes up in something less appealing- grabbed one of the disposable plastic brown sacks from a grocery store before heading in.

How easy would that have been?

“I wanted to share a meal with you,” is the dull response you give, newly downcast and despondent. “I brought mooncakes and tea.”

“Aww, aren’t you just a gem? Just the nicest.”

Nice. Anyone can be nice, can’t they? But it’s a lot harder to be clever or strong or capable.

Maybe he’d be happier with a different student.

Maybe if you were less nice and more-

“C’mon, kiddo- are you eating or not?”

He’s already got everything ready, the mooncakes strewn across his coffee table, the bottles of tea in the microwave.

Strange. You never even saw him get up.

He notices your questioning eyes, and quickly shifts the subject.

“Real sweet of you to bring this all the way out- I’m guessing you got a good deal, if you brought all of this?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah, I, uh, I’ve been using an app that tells me about local deals, y’know? Saves some money, and, um, all that.”

“Smart,” he praises, and a rush of euphoria races through you at just that one word. It feels almost pathetic to rely so heavily on someone’s praise to feel good about yourself. Still, you can’t help but adore each moment he breaks from his reserved norm and drops an honest compliment.

“Go put your stuff up and get changed, kiddo. I’ll pour the tea and get cushions.”

An actual sit-down meal with your mentor! You wouldn’t just be snacking and chatting on the couch this time!

Jumping to your feet, you excitedly race to the guest room, painted in a smooth purple and decorated with black curtains. He had essentially given it to you, letting you settle in with him at least semi-permanently.

A shelf right next to your bed is stocked with mementos, most of them memories you’ve shared with Macaque. A little snap-together set you had convinced him to put together with you, a bright mecha built from colorful blocks. By the end of the build, you had learned that he’d much rather watch than try to fiddle pieces together with his claws.

A framed photo beside it of something that Macaque had enjoyed much more- pumpkin carving. In place of a serrated knife or design card, he had taken great joy in simply shredding precise diamonds into the thick orange hide of the vegetable. The carved gourd had looked something like a lantern by the end of his fun. It had even put him a good enough mood to allow for a photo to be taken.

And you had a photo of you, MK, and Mister Pigsy to put up, but-

Enough reminiscing! Your mentor is waiting for you, after all.

You throw on the coziest thing you have in the closet- an old nightgown, long abraded to softness. Black as night and cool to the touch, decorated with purple cloud embroidery. And it never seemed to stop smelling of plums, a scent you had grown familiar with very quickly.

You aren’t quite sure where it came from, or when you got it- just that it’s a few sizes too big and pools around you comfortably.

Shoes off, bag placed carefully in the corner, and then you’re racing back out to meet Macaque in the living room.

You don’t notice two golden-eyed figures slinking out of the shadows and into your room.

The coffee table is prepared, the bottled tea is poured into mugs and the mooncakes are laid out two by two. He’s even put your little sitting cushion beside his instead of across.

You quickly take your seat, Macaque’s hand coming to ruffle your hair.

“Are we ‘expanding my horizons’ again today, kiddo? An ice cream day wasn’t enough?”

“I want you to try nice things,” is your protest, causing his golden eyes to soften.

“That’s… sweet of you,” he admits, folding his arms. “Really, Y/N.”

“…yeah,” you awkwardly respond, grabbing one of the napkins Macaque had set out. You grab one of the mooncakes and wrap it, then pass it to your mentor. “Do you, uh, know what’s inside this one?”

The sable simian lifts the pastry to his nose, sniffing intently. Quickly, his face scrunches up. “Tsk. More ice cream? Not in all of them, I’m hoping. Unless you’re trying to give me cavities, kiddo.”

“No, there’s only four with ice cream- and we’ve got two of them right now. I know you don’t like your food too sweet.”

“You’re a good kid,” he chuckles, biting into the mooncake. Vanilla ice cream leaks from the middle, oozing onto his tongue.

In turn you munch on your own, slowly leaning your head onto his shoulder.

Macaque doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your form, yanking you closer.

“You’re a good kid,” he says again, an ancient look in his golden eyes. There’s a newfound contentedness in them, and a pang of something much darker boiling underneath that new satisfaction. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

Swallowing down the last bit of the sweet pastry, you nod. “Sure, Macaque.”

“Nothing big- just I wanna know how you feel about me, kiddo.”

…something is scraping around in the room Macaque has fixed up for you.

“Keep looking,” a quiet and steady voice says. “They wouldn’t have just left it anywhere.”

“Shut up,” another angrily returns. “Don’t tell me what to do, Rumble! You’re lucky that I’m even helping you!”

“…you’re the one who wanted to come in here and look, Savage.”

“Shut up! Hurry up and throw me their bag!”

With a groan, Rumble carries your backpack to his ‘brother’ and drops it in front of him.

“Be quick,” he cautiously reminds. “Those mooncakes won’t last forever.”

“…I didn’t find the book,” Savage snarls, his crimson fingers hitting glass.

“But I did find something.”

And slowly, he pulls out the photo of you and your friends.

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

don't know how much of this makes sense but I've been thinking about sirius at grimmauld place meeting auror reader... possibly Weasley!reader? like around Bill's age, and maybe she defends him when Molly and the rest of the order are having that discussion – him just being in awe and desperate for her and her love (maybe turns into him jerking off thinking of her) and would love to see your take on it!

pounding my fists on the fucking table THIS is the type of shit i’m TALKING ABOUT, people!!!!!! 😤🥵🥵 i LOVE the way your mind works!!!! you love to fucking see it!!!! WOOOOOO

alright i love the thought of sirius getting off to the thought of y/n…. but here’s the thing. i rewrote the first half of this fic at least four different times trying to figure out a way to incorporate y/n into the argument, but i couldn’t do it 😐😔 it always sounded too chunky or corny so i changed up your request a bit. sorry bout that chief 🫡 but anyway

“I’m sorry for what she said.” You tell Sirius quietly as everyone else files out of the kitchen. The argument between him and your mother was a bad one, and things still feel a bit tense.

Your mother is the sweetest and most caring woman you’ve ever met, but she can be quite harsh when riled up. She made several comments to Sirius that were incredibly rude and uncalled for.

“You don’t have to apologize, dear.” Sirius tells you while standing from his chair. He motions for you to walk in front of him as you go up the stairs together. It’s a polite gesture, and you’re none the wiser as he takes a few short glances at your rear.

“I know,” You sigh, whispering as to not wake up any of the portraits. “But she could’ve made her point without being so rude. It wasn’t right of her to say those things.”

“It’s alright.” Sirius lies, not wanting to say too much and accidentally insult your mother to your face. He’s always been one to hold a grudge, and this argument with Molly won’t be forgotten anytime soon.

“I get the feeling you don’t mean that.” You state as you reach the floor of your guest bedroom. “But I understand. I suppose I wouldn’t forgive her so easily either.”

Sirius looks down at you as you turn to face him. Standing together in the dimly lit hallway vaguely reminds Sirius of what it’s like to drop a date off at their door. This situation isn’t so lighthearted, but the tension feels the similar.

He tilts his head to the side and smiles, deflecting the conversation toward you. “That so? I figured you’d be the type to forgive and forget.”

You reflect his smile and shrug. “I am, but I don’t think the same is said for you.”

Sirius nods once and chuckles quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re just too sweet. Goodnight, love.”

Sirius listens and watches as you say your own ‘Goodnight’, breaking eye contact and looking away as some color lights up your cheeks. He waits until your door is closed before walking away to his own room.

After getting undressed and sliding into bed, Sirius can’t help but feel a little guilty.

It feels wrong. You’re ten years his junior, for Merlin’s sake! Sirius is probably closer in age to your parents than he is to you.

The interactions between the two of you thus far have been nothing but innocent, and yet Sirius can’t help himself. The feeling of his stiffening cock rubbing against the confines of his trousers is unbearable.

He releases himself from his pants, and slowly starts working his hands up and down his shaft. Instead of his own fist, he imagines your lips wrapped around him.

Sirius lays his head back on his pillow and closes his eyes. He remembers you, just a few moments ago as you looked up at him in the hallway: eyes wide, pupils dilated, and lips slightly parted. He can easily picture you with that same expression as you bob your head up and down his length.

Instead of his own hands working his cock, he imagines they’re tangled in your hair to help guide you and set the pace.

He pumps his cock faster, picturing you using one hand to hold the base of his shaft and the other to pleasure yourself.

Sirius wonders what kind of sound you’d make if he ‘accidentally’ held your head down too far, pushing you to take more of him than you can handle. He imagines the feeling of your throat gagging and contracting around the head of his cock, saliva dripping out of your mouth and falling onto his balls and the bedsheets.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, he quickly ponders whether or not you’d swallow; maybe you’d prefer his cum on your face or all over your breasts.

Or perhaps you’d prefer not to waste a drop. You’d flip over onto your back, begging Sirius to cum inside you.

It’s all so easy to imagine. He can already hear your sweet little gasps and moans as he sinks his cock into your sopping wet pussy, giving it a few pumps before spilling his load as deep inside as he can get.

Sirius cums with a small moan and a shudder, reality coming back to hit him as soon as his cum falls all over his hand and stomach.

[skythighs]

Calista's Dream

I am just pushing this story out like it's nothing. That's the power of Feyd Rautha Harkonnen because I've literally never posted any of my writing until this. I'm so inspired ✨️ I hope you all are enjoying the story progress once again future chapters will contain sexual content so 18+ please.

Warnings:blood consumption

Word count:2.8k

Chapter 2

The next morning was slow. It was customary to sleep in after a welcoming feast given the guests usually over indulged in much wine. I was just thankful for a brief reprieve before our official courting began. My hand was wrapped neatly by Dr. Yueh last night. It stung whenever I tried to flex my hand slightly. I’m still not sure what compelled me to slice my palm just because he requested it. At the moment it seemed like the right thing to do but upon further reflection, I think it was a mistake. I only showed him that if he insisted I would bend to his will, because that is exactly what I did. I gave him what he asked for. I gave him my blood and he loved it. I can still recall the look in his predatory eyes when he saw my bright red blood coat the dagger. For a moment I thought he might lick it clean but thankfully he did not.

“My lady, it’s time for your promenade with the Na Baron.”

I wash my face at my vanity trying to mentally prepare for the day ahead. 

“He also requested a tour of the training yard. He needs to train daily, Lady Calista.”

“Of course thank you for informing me.”

With that she readied me for the mid day meal.

Yet again in the great hall Feyd Rautha and my father are seated identically to last night. They rise to greet me, but this time Feyd pulls out my chair without interruption from my father. I kiss my father on his cheek the same way I have every morning since I was a girl and he strokes my hair affectionately. Once I take my seat I greet The Na Baron with a simple 

“Good Morning.”

 My mother looks on with a sincere smile nodding her head in greeting. Her love had always been more reserved, more private than my fathers affections, but I knew she would do anything for me just as he would. 

Na Baron Harkonnen seems taken aback by the display of affection between father and daughter and thus does not relay a ‘Good morning’ in return. The food is quickly delivered and everyone begins eating without another word spoken. In order to break the ice Cali faces Feyd.

“I was informed you wanted to see the training yard. One of the maids mentioned training daily back on Giedi Prime. Is that true?”

He cuts his eyes to her youthful face and damp hair.

“Yes, it’s true. Why do you ask?”

“I also train daily. Perhaps we could-”

“-Cali, no I don’t think that's a good idea.” Said Leto.

“I would be honored, my lady.” said Feyd.

Jessica and Leto looked apprehensive. 

“Father? Is it alright?”

He nodded his approval, reluctant to offend the Na Baron.

An hour later I was dressed in my training garb which consisted of tight yet stretchy britches and a white peasant top tucked in neatly to the britches. I knocked on Feyd Rautha’s chamber in three sharp raps. He opened the door only a crack before seeing me and widening the gap.

“Are you ready Na Baron?”

He nodded once stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him. They walked silently together with him just a few short paces behind her, out of her peripheral vision. 

“Our training yard has an awning so even when it rains we can enjoy the fresh air. The indoor area can get stuffy at times.” I was actually looking forward to sparring with him. I was eager to see if the rumors and gossip about him being a brutal animal were true. I felt a thrill deep down at the thought of it; seeing him for the beast he was rumored to be. 

“Here we are.” I pushed open the large double doors where some of the men were training under Duncans supervision. He nodded to me acknowledging mine and Na Baron Harkonnen's presence, but he did not approach. 

“Where would you like to start? Hand to hand perhaps?”

I offered hoping he would agree.

“Are you sure you’re capable?” He gestures to my wrapped hand that I had somehow forgotten about.

“It’ll be fine. It’s just sparring right?”

“Right.” 

We make our way to an available mat standing on opposite sides of the circle. His eyes are watching me more closely than usual which seems impossible. He gestures for me to make the first move. So I approach him slowly and deliberately. I strike out at his neck before he swiftly dodges the blow countering with a blow of his own which lands on my left side. I expected him to be a bit slower given his stature, but I was wrong. Noted.

 We trade blows back and forth, none landing. I was small and quick but he was using his size against me. He tried cornering me so I couldn't retreat before he grabbed hold of me. At the last second he was able to grab me and bring my back to his front. He wrapped his arms around my middle. For a moment we just breathe a bit worn out from the previous events. We had gone on for nearly ten minutes just grappling no one landing a single blow since his very first attack.

“You're fast my lady. I almost couldn’t catch you... almost.” He whispered right in my ear.

“You’re surprisingly fast for someone of your size, Na Baron. I’ll admit I was expecting slow but powerful blows.” I try to face him but his grip doesn’t allow for it.

“You adapted quickly. I was only able to land the first blow, I’m impressed, but you’re holding back.”

I try to turn to face him but he refuses to let me out of his grip.

“We’re just sparring are we not? Do you want me to unleash my full capabilities?” 

“I will if you will.” He whispers yet again in my ear.

With that I fling my head back catching him while he leaned into my ear to speak. The blow is enough for him to momentarily lose his grip and I use it to my advantage striking him in his gut with my elbow and moving out of his reach.

He smiles a black toothed smile at me, and I feel pride briefly before he charges at me full force and before I can even think he slams me on the foam mat knocking the breath from my body. Now at the advantage he straddles me at my waist totally trapping my legs. I try to use the menuvors Gurney taught me to use against bigger opponents but he pins my hands flush against the mat earning the attention of Duncan and the other soldiers present. 

I buck my hips trying with all my might to knock him off kilter, but it’s all for nothing. He’s too big, even with my years of training my strength will never be a true match to his. His eyes are even brighter than last night as I fight with everything inside of me to free myself. I manage to slip my bandaged hand out of his grasp from the sheer amount of sweat that has gathered there, and I slap him across the face with my full power. He grips my injured hand again this time squeezing it, pulling a whimper from me. I feel my cut reopen and he seems to notice this as well because he hasn’t looked away from my hand yet. I stop fighting and watch him intently as he removes the bandage exposing a small trickle of blood pooling on my palm. 

Hunger. That’s what I see in his eyes right now and it frightens me to my core. I heard tales from Gurney that some Harkonnen partake in cannibalism, but I never thought my betrothed would be one. Slowly and with all the fluidity of a snake he leans down and licks the pool of blood into his onyx mouth. His tongue startlingly pink compared to his black teeth makes me gasp. I freeze in fear and watch him while still pinned down beneath him as he licks my hand free of any blood that has gathered. Once he finishes his task he slowly rises off of me. I continue to lie on the floor shocked until Duncan Idaho kneels beside me.

“Cali, are you hurt?” He asked as he looked me over, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from Feyd Rautha.

“I’m fine Duncan, we were just sparring.” 

Who am I trying to convince? Every man here just saw him toss me around like a rag doll and lick my blood clean from my palm and now he’s staring at me like he wanted to come back over here and devour me bones and all. Duncan pulls me up to my feet, hands on my shoulders as he waits for me to shake off whatever spell I was under.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He persists.

I finally break my trance and look away from Feyd Rautha. I nod my head looking up at Duncan. He was like an older brother to me, somehow older but less mature. But here and now there was no playfulness in his eyes, only deep deep concern for me.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. I’m gonna go get this taken care of.”

I gesture to my throbbing hand. Duncan nods at me and releases me from his grasp.I find myself looking at Feyd again, but now he only has eyes for Duncan.

“You will take her place, Atreides' pet.” He spits at Idaho.

That was the last thing I heard as I left the training room face red from all the pitying looks from the men there. He made a fool of me in front of them all. This is what my father was worried about I suppose. I just proved to everyone I’m nothing but a weak little girl.

I sit totally tuning out Dr. Yueh as he asks me about my wound. I couldn’t focus on a word he said. I felt so exhausted and weak physically. My father wanted me to be able to hold my own when this day came, but Feyd proved I was nothing compared to him. How would I survive this? What will my father say?

Later in the day I was soaking in a warm bath spiraling down a rabbit hole of self deprecating thoughts. I was nothing compared to him. If I hadn't been born so small. If I hadn't been born a girl. My back was stiff from the force of being slammed. I realize now, no one had ever handled me so roughly. No one had ever used their full strength on me before. Not Gurney, not Duncan, no one. The thought alone makes tears pool in my eyes. My own perfect little world has been shattered by the truth. I’m not the future Duke. I’m the future Duchess. The very taste is bitter on my tongue.

“I can feel your bad mood from the chamber door.”

I gasp, clutching my heart.

“Mother, you scared me half to death. When did you get here?”

My mothers emerald orbs stare deep into my chestnut ones.

“Speak plainly Calista, your father has already been informed of what transpired today in the training yard.”

I cringe to myself, holding my eyes closed to stop the tears from falling. My mother hated when I cried. I hear her move about the bathing room grabbing something before I feel her gently brush my hair.

“Talk to me, my girl.”

“He bested me. We agreed to stop holding back and he beat me so quickly- I- I can’t face him again.”

“Ah, your pride is wounded. So much of your father is in you my darling.”

“It’s not just pride, mother. I was- I was afraid of him.”

The silence is loud. 

“You were afraid? Why?”

“He overpowered me so quickly, but I fought hard, so hard, and still he would not be moved by me.”

“You’re hiding something. I feel it.”

“He tasted my blood. He looked like a man starving, and I felt such an unfamiliar fear reach my heart.”

Jessica remains silent and just listens as she diligently brushes. 

“He wanted to devour me.”

“Shhh. Don’t cry. I think perhaps what he exhibited was sexual attraction for you.”

“No Gurney told me about cannibalism amongst House Harkonnen. What sort of normal person licks another human being's blood.”

“Calista, blood can be...erotic to some. I highly doubt Feyd Rautha is a cannibal. I think he desires you and you brought that forth while sparring today.”

I open my eyes considering her words.

“I didn’t think of that.”

“You are innocent, I wouldn’t expect such a thing to cross your mind. You can use that desire to your advantage, Cali.”

“Yes, I suppose I can.”

There's an awkward silence before lady Jessica speaks up.

“Why didn’t you use the voice?” There was a tension in her shoulders.

“Because fear is the mind killer. I couldn’t even think.” She admits in shame.

“Do not be ashamed. Let this be a lesson to you Calista, for if you are ever in harm's way your greatest enemy is yourself.”

“I understand.”

“Get out of the tub. It’s time to entertain your betrothed, he still expects a promenade before the evening meal.”

With that she pulls out her dress of choice while leaving Cali to finish her bath in peace.

There was a brief break in the rain clouds so I decided  to take Feyd Rautha to the gardens before we went to the evening meal together. Beyond the garden was the rocky seashore and Feyd seemed transfixed on the water that lay beyond that.

“Let's take a closer look.”

I boldly grab his hand tugging him along near the ragged rocks edge. There was a rocky beach about five feet below.

“What is Giedi Prime like? What can I expect?”

“Nothing like this. In fact it’s the opposite of this. No lush grass or tall standing trees, and certainly no body of water as enchanting as this.”

He sounds harsh in his delivery, but it doesn’t deter me.

“What of your family? Are they looking forward to our union?”

“They are.”

He doesn’t elaborate or even look my way. He simply stares out as the waves crash below us on the rocky shore. The mist from the seaspray damps my hair and I decide we should leave so we aren't soaked through while we eat.

Tonight's meal passed by without much incident unlike last nights and I’m thankful the day is over when I climb into my bed. Physically and mentally exhausted from the last two days.

That night my dreams were plagued by sand dunes, and the sound of a baby crying with all their strength. As I walked along the sand dune I found myself heavily with child and the crying was coming from within me, only I could hear my son cry out. Feyd appeared suddenly in my dream and my son's cries stopped abruptly as he kneeled before me speaking calmly to my large midsection. He even stroked me lovingly there on his knees. A kick from within my womb drags me out of my sleep and I shoot up out of my bed. It felt so strong. So real. This was no dream, this was a vision. The very first one since my childhood. A son? Why was this so familiar to me and yet so foreign. How did I know the life inside of me was male? I don't know how I know, but he was soothed by Feyd Rautha’s presence. The child in my womb recognized his fathers voice even now when he hasn’t yet been conceived.

In the weeks that followed Feyd Rautha pulled away from me. He would not engage in idle chit chat no matter how hard I tried to interact with him. His eyes were dead again even when looking at me, and some part of me didn’t like that. He was clearly just going through the motions of courting because it was requested but some part of me wanted us to know one another. Ever since the vision when I saw another side of him, I've longed to see more. He was tender in my vision, stroking my heavily pregnant womb gently and with great care. I wanted to see that side of him again, but who knew how long that would take. However, I resigned myself to the fact that I would indeed be marrying a stranger despite my best attempts. He had even gone so far as to avoid me during training. Only arriving while I still slept peacefully and leaving as soon as I appeared. 

Taglist: @mamawiggers1980

[gumnut-logic]

Hello! I'm wondering what happens when Alex finds out Virgil plays the piano?

Sweetapple Piano

Alexander Sweetapple Series | Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island

Apologies for the delay in answering this lovely ask. This is part of Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island, but because we are writing it out of order, I'm thinking probably chapter four.

Also, it is all fluff, complete fluff. Virg is a maestro and Alex is the fanboy.

This is m/m romance, so if that isn't your thing, this isn't the fic for you. The very beginning was posted yesterday as a WIP Wednesday (actually on Wednesday for once), so it may look familiar, but there is plenty more. I am soooo happy to be writing again.

Many thanks to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight and @womble1 for the readthroughs and amazing support. And I big thanks to those of you who continue to support our engineering geeky fanboy OC. Oh, and special thanks to @sailing-on-a-puddle for both asking this question in the first place and for writing her Glitter fic which sparked me to write more of Alex and Virg :D You guys spoil me rotten and I'm truly blessed to be part of the amazing Thunderfam ::hugs everybody and squishes for all::

I hope you enjoy the fic.

-o-o-o-

Virgil and Mrs Tracy set Alex and his mum up in two of the guest rooms in the Tracy villa that second night on Tracy Island.

It was an early one after a massive day and Alex was exhausted. Virgil kept him company, but it was obvious the rescue operative…his rescue operative…was also exhausted.

Regardless, it appeared they didn’t want to separate from one another. Virgil escorted him to his room, an amazingly spacious apartment with a view to die for, but instead of leaving, ended up sitting on the couch beside him just talking.

About anything and everything.

Sure, they had Siliwrap to discuss - it was their default topic, after all and a means to spend time together for so long. But now things were different, more open, with more possibilities.

Alex couldn’t help himself. He watched every movement of Virgil’s facial expression. His smile, his arched eyebrow, his concern, his lips…

His hands, which so often he found holding one or more of his. He should be alarmed. This was Virgil Tracy after all, Alex’s hero worship was a thing. But it seemed Virgil was just as attached to him. Ever so polite, always checking to make sure Alex was okay, and with a hesitancy that proved that this was as new to Virgil as it was to Alex.

And just as cherished.

But exhausted they were and both Mrs Tracy and and Alex’s mum checked up on them and mothered them enough to make sure they went to bed.

It was stupid to have his mother, now hopping around on crutches, tucking him into bed. He should be looking after her, not the other way around. But her smile and her kiss to his forehead, reminiscent of young nights now so long ago, it was obvious she had been as scared and as worried as he.

Yet, out of horror and disaster, Alex’s world had changed so much, and as she brushed hair off his forehead, with the murmurs of Virgil and Mrs Tracy in the rooms beyond, all he could feel was love.

“Love you, mum.” His voice was little more than a whisper.

She smiled down at him. “Thank you, Allie, for today.” She placed a quick shushing finger across his lips. “Sleep, honey, you need it. We can talk tomorrow.”

A brush of a finger to his cheek. “Sleep well, Allie.” Again with that all-seeing and amused smile, she turned and hobbled out of his room, shutting the door behind her.

He should be looking after her.

But the thought was overtaken by the exhaustion in every cell he possessed, and despite everything, he fell asleep before he could worry any more.

Which let to this morning.

The sun was bright in tropical latitudes and the morning early. He slept soundly and rose with less of the headache from yesterday. There were still protests from various parts of his body, but he felt energised, as if the sun was injecting energy directly into his system.

He padded down stairs in bare feet, dressed only in a borrowed t-shirt and long pyjama bottoms. He suspected he owed John Tracy a new wardrobe.

One aspect of the Tracy villa was accessibility. There were stairs, yes, but for each stairwell there was an accompanying lift. There was engineering in the design he couldn’t help but admire. The building was glued to the volcanic rock face, but used the rock in ways that maximised it as a building material, and the mechanical infrastructure meshed into it just as smoothly.

Whoever designed it was a bloody genius.

Finding himself staring at one of the lifts nested into basalt, he shook himself. Okay, Alex, you’re a fanboy. Stop with the catatonia. You’re amongst…Tracys. Genius was likely the norm.

Of course, that was the moment his feet landed on the hardwood of the main comms room and music floated into the stairwell.

Piano music.

He frowned. He had noted the grand piano the previous day, but with a day of so many other thoughts, he hadn’t questioned it.

Alex stopped just behind the wall that curved and supported all the portraits of the family. The music was lovely. Light and melodious, just floating gently on the air with happiness.

He shook himself. No coffee, day after a disaster that could have killed him, somehow that had him waxing poetic.

But the moment he stepped into the room and discovered who was playing the piano like a siren, he understood why.

It was Virgil. Of course it was Virgil. Dressed in a grey t-shirt and blue jeans, the man was lost in his music. His eyes were closed and he was just playing.

Realising he hadn’t been noticed, Alex crept forward, thankful for his bare feet, and sat down quietly on the floor, legs dangling over the edge of the sunken lounge. He watched those gorgeous hands dancing over the black and white keys, the shift of Virgil’s body as his weight moved with the music.

Alex had to admit that he had a thing for piano music. Mostly because his sister, Janie played, and played a lot. Janie had moved to Sydney, Australia, to further her musical studies (and possibly a fellow Aussie soloist who had more than caught her eye - his mother still liked to stir her about it every now and again). Alex did miss the sound of her playing. It had been a background to his homework and engineering studies for a good part of his learning years.

And this? It wasn’t enough that Virgil was a brilliant engineer, but also a pianist of calibre. Alex could understand that much. Janie came with many a recital and Alex had learnt good from not so good simply by osmosis.

And Virgil was good. Very good.

But then, he was a Tracy.

Alex’s fanboy heart fluttered.

But the man who had been kissed, just yesterday, so, so thoroughly? His heart swelled with just so…much.

The music suddenly stopped. “Alex?” Virgil was standing up from the piano.

Alex held up a hand. “No, no. Sit down.” Virgil’s eyes widened a little, but he obeyed and sat back down as Alex scrambled to his own feet and padded over. “That was beautiful.” He wanted to place his hand on Virgil’s shoulder but couldn’t work out if that was an okay thing, or where to place his hands really at all.

Virgil overrode everything by wrapping a strong arm around him and drawing him close. “Good morning.” He drew Alex down for a gentle kiss.

Oh.

That was never going to lose its thrill.

Alex found himself sitting on the piano seat beside Virgil, very much ignoring the piano completely.

No, definitely never going to lose its thrill.

Coming up for breath. “Hey, good morning to you, too.”

That brought a grin to Virgil’s face followed by a chuckle that was obviously in reaction to whatever was on Alex’s face.

But the grin eventually shifted to a gentle smile with enquiring and medically scanning eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty bloody good.”

Virgil snickered, and was that a blush?

Oh, god.

Alex swallowed and attempted to straighten himself out into something socially acceptable. “So, you play?”

Virgil blinked as if he had forgotten he was seated in front of the piano. “Oh, um, yeah.”

“That was amazing.” At Virgil’s arched eyebrow. “Your music, I mean.”

Virgil’s lips twisted into a lop-sided smile. “Thanks.”

“What were you playing?”

“Nothing in particular. Just felt like a bit of piano.”

“That was improvised?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah.”

Alex stared at him a moment longer. “Bloody amazing.”

And there was that gentle blush again.

Alex’s arm tightened around Virgil’s waist, drawing the big man closer until their temples touched. “I’m sorry. You’re just…” Amazing? Unbelievable? Beautiful? “…you.”

Another snort of laughter and they were kissing again.

Alex could so get used to this.

“Oh, god, my eyes!”

Alex felt rather than saw Virgil roll his eyes and their kiss suddenly changed to something far more performative.

Alex followed his lead and there were hands and wow, this was…his mind blanked.

There was another gasp of horror and disgust followed by stomping feet on stairs that disappeared into the distance. A plaintive ‘Grandma!’ was muffled by the house.

Virgil broke off the kiss. “Sorry, brothers.” His smile turned into a grin and Alex found himself giggling with him. They were like a pair of school boys into mischief.

“Which one was that?” By process of elimination, there was only a possibility of two…though the thought of Mr Scott Tracy’s reaction had Alex’s stomach roiling with a mixture of excitement and down right terror.

“That was Allie.” Virgil blinked at Alex. “Alan.”

Alex just smiled at him. “Play for me?”

A stare full of thought behind those gorgeous dark eyes. “Okay.”

Virgil turned towards the keys and Alex shifted enough to give him room, letting his hands free. “Any requests?”

“What ever you like.”

Another glance at Alex, before Virgil’s fingers touched the keys and notes filled the air.

Alex breathed in as music wafted up from the strings deep inside the barrel of the instrument, sent by the brilliant man beside him.

He let the breath out ever so slowly.

So bloody amazing.

-o-o-o-

[lee-blogs]

Oh! Since it is... almost 6am *goddam*

i've been doing some late night thinking! Someday, my dream is to live in a nice, comfy home. One that's all my own, to decorate how i please!

One i can invite my friends to come over, stay as long as they want or need to, no questions asked. I'd like to have a place someone could call a second home; one filled with warm memories and lots of good feelings.

*Being sleepy sometimes makes me all sappy*

[malkaviian]

I can't stop imagining this character in situations so I'll share him now

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.

Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.

However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.

“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.

“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”

“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”

“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”

“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.

“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.

The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”

He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.

Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.

You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.

Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.

“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.

And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.

Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.

Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 

You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”

Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.

He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.

“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.

He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.

“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.

Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.

“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”

You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.

Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.

You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.

“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”

You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.

“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.

“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”

Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.

It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”

When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.

“You fear me?”

He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.

He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.

“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”

“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”

“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”

After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”

He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.

Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”

From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.

But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.

He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”

You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.

“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.

He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.

You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.

“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”

Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.

“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.

[adanfore]

Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.

He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.

You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in

the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.

If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.

“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”

You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.

“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”

“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”

And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.

“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”

With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.

“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”

“Helping him with what?”

“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!

Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.

After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.

“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”

“What are you talking about, Choso?”

“H-How you said you’d help me later..”

“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”

You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.

“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“

“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”

The sigh Choso gave out was huge.

“Please…”

That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.

You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.

“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”

Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.

“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”

When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.

You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.

The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”

You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.

“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”

That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.

You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.

“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”

“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”

And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.

NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

we can dip if you’re ready ; satoru gojo

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere), mild age gap (four years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach. but right now you’re still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room. listening to the sound of the nearby sea. 

you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, his pajama pants cling to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

(suddenly, without mercy; a finality to his voice.)

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, three years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and crashed headfirst into his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture. 

there are lots of people out there for you.

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking right at you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god. his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, like fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod; smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws his backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of sugary pancakes on the kitchen table, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends. 

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

except they don’t.

the moral of the story is; satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was eighteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

one mellow summer evening, five years later — you step onto a bustling train platform, dragging your luggage behind you, and breathe in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look around, and everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers; peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades. the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you. 

with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided; her yellow sundress and matching headband, sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, so used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other in person just about a month ago, you indulge her.

“i missed you too, riko.”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

you match her expression, eager to protest. “you’re still mad about that? it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards that familiar house. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.” 

ah. right.

your lips curl up into a smile, albeit a little uncertain. giddy, maybe. nervous? you aren’t sure. something swirls around in your stomach, little butterflies. tickling the ridges of your ribs, all those fluttering heartstrings. it’s been a while since you felt like this. all your summers are spent here, and all of riko’s, but he’s usually too busy.

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb. the buzz of an old radio spills out from an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze. when you strain your eyes you think you hear humming.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.

a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, again, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own.

“good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off. muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own. leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice. “i bet. take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot. unable to properly look into his eyes.

for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward, one large stride towards you, leaning down to wrap his big arms around your waist. bringing you into a hug, not as tight as you remember them being. you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.

“i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can. 

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen. 

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly. 

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves. 

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.” 

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for words, brain tied up in fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, and you gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet. soft, sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating, but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament. 

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.” 

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm. 

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat. 

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?” 

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes… 

suguru. 

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by. i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers. 

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid. 

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look. 

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe. 

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room. 

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan escaping him. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with a distinctly cold gaze. you follow his stare, craning your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless. embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing. he was just looking out for you.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response.

“i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him? 

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing.

so, one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening. 

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more, unable to help yourself, you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re four years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet. 

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it drips with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it. okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair gently. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her. 

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated. even if you’re completely delusional, and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds. 

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable.

he’s strong. very strong. the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after another, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually. some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those printed white flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ‘cause you were embarrassed?”

“no,” he murmurs, softly, the slightest shake of his head. ”because i wanted to be prepared. in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something…” a sheepish little chuckle. ”i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep a steady hold around your legs. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy.”

silence. then, a displeased huff.

“… you’re not a random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he quips, standing a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat, absentminded. you’re not sure he hears you. if he does, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time. 

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think. more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have. 

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you. 

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. and you mean it. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking. you wonder if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, oxygen spilling out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, forehead nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

he’s teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm. his voice is set to a melodic lilt, and you feel strangely tempted to close your eyes. 

and you adore him again. 

right — loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so — if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown backyard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom. just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away, too. at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off lil ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right. 

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: bff'sbrother!jungkook, softdom!jungkook, enemies2lovers-ish, he's a lil annoying in this, angst, mentions of rejection, one-sided crush, afab reader, smut, fingering, dry humping, penetrative sex, overstimulation (kinda), etc.

wc: 4076

a/n: another jk fic bc im taking time off work and have nothing to do</3 this went longer than anticipated lol sorry

masterlist

"what are you doing here?", grumbled the man as soon as he opened the door and spotted you on the other side of it.

"can you get out of the way? i'm obviously here for minji."

"she doesn't get here til tomorrow," he responded, though still moving out of the way to let you in.

you were about to snark at him again when he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when they made contact with the suitcases you were struggling to drag behind you, "why are you carrying suitcases? fuck, don't tell me you're staying here," he grabbed onto one, stopping your movements.

"yes, jungkook. minji told me i could crash here for spring break. what's it to you? your house is big enough. just ignore my presence," you attempted to move your suitcases again, knowing you'd receive no help from the boy even if you asked.

"so you're here to ruin my break?" the complaints were never ending despite having entered the home only mere moments ago.

"stop being a child and get out of my way," you grumbled when the idiot refused to remove his hand from the handle of your suitcase.

he let out a heavy sigh, scrunching his eyes closed in annoyance before speaking again, "okay, move. i'll bring your shit upstairs."

"no, i can-"

"you can't carry all this upstairs. my mom's gonna be mad if i don't offer to help you. just let go," he muttered, pushing your hands away and somehow lifting both suitcases at once as he walked towards the stairs.

without any energy to argue with him, you just followed him upstairs, annoyed he insisted to pretend to do you a favor.

"are your parents home?", you asked, confused as to why he had been the one to open the door.

"no, they went out of town this weekend. they should be here tonight."

"why are you here?"

you knew this was his home, but it was a valid question. this had been the third time you'd spent some sort of school break at minji's house, yet jungkook had never been there during the duration of it, usually only popping up for a day or two by the end of each break.

"you mean in my house?", he chuckled sarcastically.

"you're never here- you know what i meant."

"didn't have any plans this time. why? am i ruining your break?"

the two of you finally made it to the extra guest room in minji's house, with jungkook settling your stuff on the bed and uncharacteristically taking a seat on it, as if planning to hang around. you ignored the thought and went to open your suitcase, planning to unpack a few of the things since you'd be staying for over a week.

"yeah," you deadpanned.

he scoffed, "not like i wanna spend my break with you either, princess."

groaning, you threw a folded shirt at him, "ew, i told you not to call me that."

seemingly pleased at having annoyed you, he chuckled and picked up the shirt you threw, folding it and placing it on the bed. he continued to occasionally grab one thing or another as you unpacked. you always knew jungkook to be quite fidgety, so you didn't question him grabbing your stuff to entertain himself as you unpacked.

jungkook wordlessly stayed on your bed as you went around the room organizing your stuff, attempting to ignore his presence but not entirely able to. you were willing to retain peace without complaining, but then he started making noise.

you usually didn't care for his presence too much, even as badly as the two of you got along, but the constant humming quickly got on your nerves. he hummed and hummed and did not stop even as ten minutes passed by, still taking stuff from your suitcase to fidget with. currently he was entertaining himself with a random shoe.

"jungkook! why are you still here?", you suddenly snapped, confused as to why he'd been sitting on your bed with a blank look on his face despite usually being liberal in expressing his dislike for you.

he looked at you for a few moments, no emotion on his face before speaking up.

"why don't we get along?"

"what?"

"you heard me. why don't we get along? you've been friends with my sister since childhood, but you've always hated me. why?"

"you started it," you murmured, taking the shoe he currently had in his hold and turning around to place it somewhere else.

he got up, walking over to you and turning you around by your shoulders and taking the shoe from you again, "i started it? what are you talking about? you've been rude to me since the seventh grade. i've just been returning the favor."

sighing in frustration, you grabbed shook his hands off your shoulders and stubbornly grabbed the shoe again, "why do you think that is, jungkook?"

a confused look overtook his face at your insinuation of your relationship being his fault, clearly not remembering what you were referring to.

"wha-what are you talking about?"

"god, you're such a dumbass sometimes. i mean, i assumed you didn't remember, but to have confirmation of it just kinda sucks," you chuckled bitterly.

he grabbed onto your shoulders again when you tried to walk past him, "tell me what you're talking about," he insisted.

for the most part, you didn't want to. you still felt embarrassed thinking about it, even if it had been over a decade since it had happened. to know he really didn't remember the source of your dislike for him also didn't really help matters. it just frustrated you at his presence even more.

through the years you had learned not to take the mutual banter too seriously. it was mostly lighthearted, to be honest. but any time you thought back to how it had started, you became beyond angry at the boy who was seemingly nice too all those he knew but you. sure, you had technically been the one to source this animosity, but he bad been the instigator of it after all.

you had been nine years old at the time, having recently moved into town and befriended minji. she had been your salvation, becoming instantly interested in being your friend despite you being brand new. you became quick friends, hanging out inside and outside school almost every day.

minji had the good fortune of being extremely close to her family, which allowed you to bond with them quite a lot. that was when you met her older brother, one of her favorite people in the world.

jungkook had been pure perfection in your young eyes, seeing him as unattainable at the young age of nine. he was two years your senior, which made you come to the quick realization that your crush would remain one-sided forever. except this didn't stop your naive heart to read into his nice demeanor and wishfully believe that maybe he'd like you back.

you crushed on him silently for three years, even coming to befriend him in the process. you wouldn't see him too often, but it was always nice when you did, always getting along quite well. this continued up until you hit twelve years of age, your tweenhood years. unfortunately, jungkook was now into his teens, meaning that he followed the footprints of every other man and had a short-lived phase where he was a bit insensitive to girls his age.

being completely delusional and being on your way to graduate middle school, you took a leap, deciding to invite jungkook as your date to your middle school prom. you had thought you read all the signs right, thinking that even if he rejected you, he'd still be nice enough to go with you as a friend. your hopes were completely crushed when he turned you down with zero hesitance, even patronizing you in the process.

the worst part of it all came later, when you were first entering high school. somehow a few of his friends had gotten word of the situation, dubbing you as desperate and obsessed with him. although the rumors died pretty quickly, and you were able to feign indifference to jungkook and everyone else, the seed of hate began to grow in you. little by little, you stopped speaking to jungkook altogether, eventually coming to proudly dislike him. despite minji's constant questioning about your change in demeanor towards her brother, you never told, not wanting any drift to be caused between you and minji, nor her and her brother.

the gradual change in your feelings for jungkook had been so natural that it made sense for him to not remember the source of the current state of your relationship. he had caught on naturally, simply bantering back with you whenever you gave him attitude. it was likely that he believed it all to be lighthearted at first, eventually becoming accustomed enough to it to not question it.

and now you were here, having to explain a stupid childhood heartbreak to the perpetrator of it all as he stared down at you in absolute wonder.

"eighth grade, jungkook. remember?"

he shook his head in confusion, his eyes still wide as his brain wracked itself to remember.

"the dance?"

"the dance? what dan- oh! the- the dance? that's it?"

'that's it'?

he mustve caught the look of annoyance in your face, as he quickly went to retract himself.

"fuck, wait. i didn't mean it like that, just- is that why you hate me? because i said no to you?"

you took a step away from him again, still frustrated, but his arms remained on your shoulders so you would keep looking right at him. it was awkward and extremely uncomfortable considering the context, but you didn't move away.

"it wasn't just that, jungkook," you started, "was it that horrible of a thought to go to the dance with me? i was twelve, you couldve been nicer about it. and to tell your friends about it? i was mocked for weeks after that. and now you wanna act like this is my fault? like ive just been mean to you for no reason?", you scoffed, looking at your feet in favor of not having to look at him.

"wait, who ... who made fun of you? i- i never told anyone what happened. why would i do that?"

"jungkook, stop. taehyung? jimin? they wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. it died down after a while, but i was already humiliated."

he shook his head and denial, seemingly at himself. finally letting go of you, he sat back on the bed, look of confusion still on his face before a lightbulb metaphorically manifested itself above his head.

"oh fuck," he muttered, "i- i remember now, but it didn't go down the way you think, okay? let me explain."

you crossed your arms and nodded, signaling for him to continue.

he uncrossed his arms, running them through his hair in a frustrated fashion before he began to explain, oddly passionate as he did so, "i told them right after it happened. i felt so bad for saying no to you, they noticed how down i was about it and asked. i swear i didnt say anything bad. fuck, i never knew they teased you about it, im so sorry," he rambled, "and i didnt- i didnt mean to make you feel bad when i said no. you're my sister's best friend and- and you were so young. i know it doesnt matter anymore, but saying yes felt wrong. it felt like id be taking advantage of you somehow."

"jungkook-"

"if it makes you feel better," he hesitated before continuing, "i, uh, i kinda had a crush on you when we were 17. i- i was going to ask you to my prom, but you picked a fight with me that day and told me to get the fuck out. thats, that's kinda when i started to hate you back," he smiled awkwardly towards the end.

that took you for a bit of a loop. you weren't a heartless asshole. it wasnt like you meant to hurt him through your dislike of him, but rather protect yourself from further rejection. it made you feel bad to know that you'd somewhat done a similar thing to him at some point, even verbally berating him time after time when his intentions hadn't been malicious.

"are you serious?"

"do you really hate me? for what i did, i mean," he interrupted.

did you? for the most part, you had just grown far too used to your animosity with jungkook. due to your own mean behavior towards him, he became equally as rude, creating a vicious cycle of disrespect between the two of you. but did you hate him?

the answer was probably not.

if you did, your heart wouldn't have jumped at the mention of him having had a crush on you back when you were seventeen.

"no, i don't hate you. do you?"

he turned to you, shaking his head, "of course not," he confirmed, "do you wanna start over?", he asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden proposal. you also couldnt help in nodding in agreement, confirming that yes, you'd be willing to put aside a petty middle school misunderstanding in favor of starting over.

then he opened his arms, gesturing for a hug before asking for permission for one, "hug?"

wordlessly, you accepted the offer of a friendly hug, reasoning that it was only natural considering how touchy he was with everyone other than yourself.

when you went to pull away, his arms tightened around you, head burying itself further into your hair, "just a little longer," he murmured.

with no reason to deny him, you wrapped your arms around him once more, only letting go when he started to slowly pull away.

that's when you made the mistake of looking up at him as he attempted to make himself let go of you.

seemingly, he had made the same mistake, now locking eyes with you at a proximity far too close for two people who hated each other just mere minutes ago. stupidly enough, your eyes predictably went down to his lips, not realizing his own had done the same. the only difference was that he was far more daring than you, allowing his lips to lower down onto yours and envelop them in a soft kiss.

greedy hands dug into your hips before making their way to your waist, holding you as close to him as he could. your own hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving to play with his hair as soon as the kiss turned more heated.

moaning against him, he pulled away for a second, still keeping his lips entirely too close to your own as he breathed through his nose to calm himself down. the following kiss was even more harrowing, causing you to take a step back due to the sheer force of it. he walked you back, pressing you up against the nearest wall as he took advantage of being able to crowd you, allowing his hands to get a feel of your body as you kissed.

despite how pathetically you followed his lips, he still pulled away, throwing his shirt off before going back to kissing you, letting his hands wander underneath your own shirt as he did so. his hands dug deep under your shirt, feeling up your bare breasts and groaning at the lack of bra.

gradually, his lips made their way to your ear and then down your neck, murmuring against your skin.

"fuck, so fucking pretty ... and so needy for me, huh? sound so good moaning for me like that," he breathed against you.

you burned up, embarrassed by how easily he had an effect on you, but you still let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that nothing you did would prevent your body from wanting his touch.

throwing off your shirt, his lips trailed down even further south, latching onto your nipples and groaning into your skin at the way you arched your body, pressing up even closer to him.

but suddenly there was a shift.

jungkook halted his movements, making his way back up to your lips and locking them with his own in a heavy and greedy kiss, resulting in a lack of breath from both of you. against your lips, he whispered something that made your knees buckle.

"i'm gonna pay you back for all those times you were mean to me, baby," his lips moved to your ear, chuckling at your anticipatory shudder, "gonna do whatever i want with this pretty body, yeah?"

nodding pathetically, you gave way for him to do anything he wanted. already drenched, there was no way you could possibly formulate any words that didn't come out as an embarrassing whine. he seemed to enjoy this too, holding a pleased smirk in his face as he easily dragged you over to the bed, pushing off your suitcase and dropping you on it with a bounce.

before you could even think, jungkook had already thrown off his shoes and undone his pants, his hands coming to do the same to you. your shaky hands attempted to help him, but he simply tsk'd at you, letting you know that he'd take care of everything tonight. everything, he emphasized.

"oh, fuck," he groaned once you were fully nude, "this is all mine now, yeah? fuck, been waiting for years for you to stop being a brat and let me have this pretty body all to myself," he kissed your lips between each sentence, "might lose control at how gorgeous and mine it is ..." he murmured as his hands took their rightful place exploring your body.

"kook-" you whined, already wanting him to do something – anything.

"shh, baby," he coo'd, "i'm gonna do whatever i want. and you're gonna take it like a good girl, okay? gonna behave for me for once."

fully crawling on top of you, jungkook went back to making out with you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began humping against your already soaked cunt.

groaning, he pulled away for a second in favor of nibbling softly at your lip, "oh, this pretty pussy's so fucking soaked already ... thought you hated me, baby, what happened?" he chuckled darkly, giving you no room to answer before shoving his tongue in your mouth.

just as his tongue attempted to suck all air out of you, his hand suddenly snuck between your bodies, finding your cunt with ease and beginning to drag his fingers up and down your folds, not giving you want you needed.

"pretty fucking pussy," he murmured, "gonna play with your clit now, baby. it's gonna cry for me by the time im done."

his fingers found your clit almost immediately, taking turns in rubbing teasing circles over it and hammering in and out of your cunt. he swallowed every single moan, groaning against your lips any time your cries went so high they went straight to his cock.

"that good, pretty? so good that you have to cry for more? oh, baby. you're so lucky this pussy's so fucking cute. lucky i cant control myself around you ..."

"f-faster, please ..."

"faster? oh, like this?", his fingers slowed down drastically, barely stimulating you at all as you cried and clawed at his back, whining for more than he seemed willing to give you.

"n-no! please, just- just wanna cum, kookie. please?"

his fingers curled entirely too well at your cry of his nickname, even making him groan when he felt your own reaction to his fingers. it was clear he liked you crying out for him, so the more you did it, the more of his fingers he gave you, leading you to the verge of an orgasm.

afraid he'd try and deny you just for sadistic means, you cried for him prematurely, begging him to let you cum.

"kookie, p-please, please let me cum, i-i'll do anything. i'll give you anything, just, fuck, please!"

there was not a single care in you about how pathetic and out of character you sounded, not when jungkook's wasnt faring any better at the effect your desperation had on him.

"cum. cum for me, baby. wanna feel that cunt cream around my fingers so i can fill it back up with my own, okay? be good for me and- fuck, and cum ..." as much as he wanted to be in charge and show a dominant side to him, your cunt just kept dragging his fingers back in, making him feel a carnal need to steal your orgasm all for himself and many others after this one.

your hand wrapped around his free wrist, needing it as support as an otherworldly orgasm took over you. back arching and eyes rolling back, you became a sight that jungkook had only ever seen in his most depraved of dreams about you. he was surprised at his cock not bursting upon such an arousing view, making him realize that he needed to fuck you as soon as posible before losing his mind.

despite talking you through your orgasm, jungkook still gave you no time to recover before shoving his tongue in your mouth and grabbing his dick to drag up and down your sensitive folds.

crying against him, you attempted to push him away at first, feeling too sensitive for immediate stimulation, but your body gave up quickly after, melting into the overload of pleasure. tears crowded in your eyes, but your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, needing more of that pressure against your cunt.

taking the hint and far too horny to drag this out any longer, he pushed inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of finally being wrapped around your warmth.

"it's so fucking wet ... oh, fuck. you wanted this so bad, didnt you, baby? fucking soaked and just pulling me in ... it's so- so tight n warm n perfect for me," he babbled, lost in pleasure.

jungkook's hips were restless against yours, an insatiable desire to chase for his pleasure taking over him as the sound of skin slapping made him dizzy. the occasional babble accompanied by a pitiful hiccup that came out of you did not help his situation, making him fear that he might cum before you.

"let- let me just get my finger there- yeah, fuck. just gonna rub that tiny little clit, okay? shit, you just tightened around my cock so fucking good ..." he groaned, thumb circling your clit to accelerate your orgasm.

"g-gonna, fuck, gonna cum ... p-please ... with me? cum with me?" you begged, barely able to get a single coherent word out while jungkook showed no mercy against you.

nodding, he kissed you, promising he'd cum – begging you to cum. counting you down, he whispered against your ear while his hips stuttered messily against your own, now completely overtaken by both yours and his orgasm.

the sounds shared between the two of you were nothing short of shameful, consisting of whines and cries filled with desperation. it was a depraved scene only meant for the two of you to enjoy.

pulling out of you proved to be a challenge, as jungkook would happily remained inside you until his last breath, but the thought of holding you innocently in his arms as you caught your breath was something he did not want to miss out on.

and so he held you against him, crowding your face against his chest so you could lay your head right by his heart.

"that was-"

"yeah," he breathed with a chuckle before turning to you with a boyish smile on his face, "i have a confession to make."

you turned around too, unable to not match his smile, "what is it?"

"i lied earlier. i, uh, i did like you when you were seventeen, but ... i kinda still like you."

it was impossible not to feel your face warm up at this, scrunching up your nose at how cutely he had confessed, "what if i said it was mutual?"

his smile somehow got bigger at that, "then i'd say i'm gonna have to steal you away from my sister," he pulled you into his chest again, enjoying the vibrations of your laugh.

a/n: this was rushed and not proofread sorry</3

[aurorawritestoescape]

GOOD GIRL || Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you get caught in the rain on your way to Professor Miller’s house and your lesson gets derailed.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, big age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), insecure reader, soft!Joel, praise, f!oral, unprotected piv, belly bulge, use of a morning after pill, slight Professor kink, power imbalance. Joel can pick up reader, reader has hair. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

Word count: 7,9k

A/n: this is for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge. Big thank you to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing. Hope you all will enjoy it💖

MASTERLIST

You are rushing along an empty suburban street caught in a warm summer rain. Soaked strands of hair are sticking to your face and you brush them off, feeling your clothes getting wet too. Drops of water are trickling down your naked thighs as your skirt rides up and your shoes squelch with every hurried step.

The rain isn’t too heavy and you might have enjoyed it some other time but not now, not when you’re running late for your lesson at Professor Miller’s house. You could have waited it out under a tree but by the look of it, the pouring won’t stop soon.

You didn’t want to make Professor Miller wait. He is already doing you a huge favor, tutoring you a few hours a week in preparation for another year at college.

You decided to switch majors and, being a good friend of your mother, Professor Miller agreed to help you so you could catch up on what you had missed and get more confident in the new field.

Frankly you wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t been running circles in your room, trying to decide what to wear. Of course, you had a crush on Professor Miller. He was handsome, intelligent, nice and much older than you. But you’d never act on it because you couldn’t even imagine him looking at you like that. So you weren’t choosing anything to attract him that day. All you wanted was to look nice. You always wore formal clothing out of respect for him. One time you put on a band tee and a pair of ripped jeans for your lesson and felt terribly out of place next to the perfect Professor Miller. After that you swore to yourself to look presentable at his lessons.

You’re looking very far from presentable when Professor Miller opens the door to you now. Yet there’s not a trace of displeasure in his warm gaze.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked!” he exclaims, eyes widened behind his black-rimmed glasses.

“Forgot my umbrella, so sorry,” you mumble, stepping inside. You take off your wet shoes and put on the slippers you always wear in his house. Seeing that you’re dripping water on the floor, you silently curse.

As a striking contrast to you Professor Miller looks impeccable. Beautiful dark curls are combed back, a black sweater over a white dress shirt and black slacks make him look like he’s on a red carpet rather than in a suburban house on a Saturday.

He rushes away, mumbling something about towels, and you peek into the hall mirror to check the damage.

What you see makes you want to jump out of the window - your mascara is running, the hair’s wet and disheveled but what makes your heart drop to your stomach is your white blouse, soaked, stuck to your torso and completely see-through. Your chest is fully exposed except for your white lacy bra which isn’t much help either as you can definitely see your nipples.

Your hands dart to cover yourself but you don’t want to attract more attention to it, so you try to cross your arms over your breasts as casually as possible.

“Here.” You jerk, hearing Professor Miller’s beautiful voice and take a towel from him with a quiet ‘thank you.’

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask, hugging the towel close to your chest.

“Of course, take your time. Join me in the office when you’re ready.”

You love Professor Miller’s guest bathroom. All of his house actually. It’s always neat and feels warm and cozy. Every piece of furniture seems thought through, the colors are rich but calming and you often find yourself wishing to stay here longer.

You clean your face up and dry yourself as well as you can. Your hair is still damp, but the skirt is not that wet. On the other hand your blouse still makes you wanna cry. At some point you contemplate asking Professor Miller for a spare shirt but this seems very inappropriate.

So you take a deep breath and decide that you can cover your almost exposed breasts with a book or something else.

You walk to the office and hastily join Professor Miller at his desk. A cup of hot tea is waiting for you next to a stack of books.

“Take a seat, sweetheart,” he says, patting the chair next to him and you plop down awkwardly, trying to hide your indecency. “Drink this. It’ll help you to get warm.” His gaze slides over you fast, not sticking to anything in particular, and you ease up a little.

He starts the lesson by checking your homework and explains your mistakes. You nod but hardly listen to him. So close to Professor Miller you feel disappointed in yourself, looking like an idiot who forgets to check the weather before leaving the house.

A light breeze hits your back and you shiver.

“Oh, I’ll close the window.” Professor Miller rushes to stand up, but you stop him with a hand on his arm. As if electrified by the feeling of his firm muscles under your touch, you dart your hand back, as your cheeks burn and you say,

“It’s ok. I love the sound of rain.”

“But you must be cold? Here, take my cardigan.” You object but he doesn’t listen, grabbing it off his chair and putting it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, wrapping yourself in it as his scent envelops you. He smells of vanilla and cardamom and you can’t help but take a deep breath of him. He smiles, but you don’t notice it.

A couple of times during the lesson Professor Miller seems to lose his train of thought and you blame your look for it. He must be thinking that you look like a stray wet dog and your mood gets worse.

When he stands up to get a book from his home library you use the pause to apologize,

“I’m sorry again for looking like this. I should have waited the rain out but I was running late.”

He turns to you, standing at the wall full of books, and shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face,

“What are you talking about? You look great.”

“Ehm…I doubt it. I bet I’ve left a puddle in your hall like a wet dog.”

He chuckles, then grabs the necessary book and returns to the desk. He sits down and turns slightly towards you. His knee touches your naked thigh and you press your legs together, feeling the tingling between them. With a new wave of embarrassment overtaking you, you close the cardigan over your chest. He doesn’t look down but instead searches for your eyes.

“You look amazing, sweetheart, you always do. And I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. It’s just rain.”

The sun peeks through the clouds for a second, and when its golden rays fill the room, you notice how beautifully Professor Miller’s eyes sparkle behind the glasses when the light shines on them. It takes your breath away and you lower your gaze with a smile. His praise makes you feel warm and fuzzy and your heart sings at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you.” Your quiet words are barely audible because of the sound of the rain outside.

Professor Miller takes a deep sigh. “Sometimes when I look at you…I wish I was younger.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you look up at him and stumble, “W- what… why? Really? Why?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, my back wouldn’t give me so much grief.”

You’re nodding with a fake smile, disappointed by his answer. He’d never look at you this way, in a different way. He’s perfect and you’re …well, you. He interrupts your self-deprecation saying softly, “Sweetheart, you worry too much. You, young people, don't understand how lucky you are. You have the whole life ahead of you, you’re free of regrets, sorrows. And the youth passes so quickly.”

You’re staring at him now, lips half parted, and then suddenly blurt out, “I am afraid. Almost all the time.”

“Of what? Why?” He asks, looking concerned.

“I don’t know. Of… everything.”

You turn slightly to him on the chair but quickly avert your gaze and stare back at the open window. The thrumming of the rain outside makes it easier to talk, as if it is accompanying your words.

“I’m afraid of my future. How wonderful it can be or how unhappy I might become. I study hard thinking …wishing the result will give me happiness but what if it doesn’t. I worry about my future career, but I’m not even sure I want it. I.. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You feel wetness coating your eyes and glance at him. He’s looking at you with intent, his brows slightly furrowed in thought.

You sniff, turning back to the desk, and stare at your fingers fumbling with the corner of Professor Miller’s cardigan.

“Sweetheart, no one knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

Your head whips up and you gawk at him with widened eyes. You’ve never heard him swear and never thought you ever would. He smiles, as if finding your reaction amusing.

“I might look all put together but I’m just like you. Scared, unsure… hell, we all are. No matter the age, I doubt it ever goes away,” he says placing his heavy hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “But you can try to focus on the present, enjoy the moment, enjoy yourself.”

The sadness in your eyes makes him chuckle bitterly, “My intent was to help but it seems like I’ve done the opposite.”

“No, it’s fine. I appreciate you telling me this but I doubt I can do that.“

He watches you for a few moments and suddenly his face lights up and a charming lopsided smile twists his lips. You almost giggle at how mischievous and joyful he looks.

“I know what we should do.” He gets up and offers you his hand.

You look up at him confused but so much joy is radiating from him, you can’t say ‘no’. You take his hand and your whole body vibrates with skin on skin contact. You’re overwhelmed by his and your confession, by the unexpected turn your lesson took, and your heart is fluttering in your chest.

You follow him to the living room, your hand in his, and come up to the French windows which lead to the back yard. He lets go of your hand and you fix his cardigan that’s slipping off your shoulders.

Professor Miller opens the windows and a flow of humid slightly cold air rushes into the room and you wrap the cardigan tighter around your torso. The rain got heavier and you see little puddles on the patio.

He turns to you and says, louder than usual, so you could hear through the drumming of the shower.

“You know what I want to do now? What will make me happier?”

He starts walking backwards out to the wet patio and you open your mouth and giggle,

“Oh my god, Professor! What are you doing?”

He shoots you a wink and steps under the heavy rain. Then he tilts his head up, closing his eyes and exposing his face to the drops, falling from the sky.

“Please, come back inside!” You walk up to him, still standing under the cover of the roof. You place your hand on his shoulder and grab him lightly. “Come back inside, you’ll get cold. I’m not sad anymore, I promise.”

Just a few moments under the downpour are enough to drench him and when he looks at you, his glasses are all wet, curls are stuck to his forehead, his sweater is soaked.

“Do you like walking in the rain, sweetheart?”

“Well, sometimes yeah, I guess, but…”

“Great!”

With that, he grabs your hand on his shoulder and pulls you out onto the wet grass. You gasp, feeling the rain drops on your face and body again, your clothes and slippers getting wet slowly but surely. You try to get back inside but he quickly closes the windows and stands in front of you, not letting you through.

“Come on, sweetheart, enjoy this summer rain with me.”

“I will but maybe inside the house?” you plead, trying to cover your head with your hands.

“And where's the fun in that? C’mon,” he returns your pleading gaze with his own, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Let’s enjoy the moment. Do what you want. Don’t worry about the future. Live now.”

His hands leave your shoulders and he steps up closer, making you walk further from the cover of his house. Watching him prowl towards you like that, with a charming smile, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, sends a surge of arousal through your core and you feel yourself getting wet not only from the rain. You stop and he does too, an arm length from you.

You two are standing in the middle of the backyard, smiling at each other, while the heavy rain is soaking your clothes, drawing wet paths down your faces.

You follow his lead from a few moments ago, looking up and closing your eyes. You feel the drops caressing your skin, kissing your eyelids, nose, lips and then sliding down your neck. For a moment you let go of your fears and hopes that weigh on you rather than motivate you and just feel, taking a deep breath.

When you open your eyes a few moments later, there’s something different about the way Professor Miller is looking at you. His cheer is gone and he’s serious again but not in his usual ‘I’m a professor’ way. His gaze is focused on you, dark eyes tracing your features with quiet hunger.

“What would you like to do right now?” He asks you, tilting his head to the side. The answer comes to you like lightning and you act on it immediately.

You take a step, reach up and kiss him. It’s just a peck but you stay there for a few seconds pressing your wet lips to his.

He breathes in sharply against your mouth and the realization of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train. You part from him and step back, your eyes filled with terror.

You’re staring at each other for a few long moments, only the sound of rain and your pounding heartbeat breaking the silence. You open your mouth to dump all possible apologies on your tutor but you have no time to do it because in the next moment Professor Miller kisses you.

One hand on your neck, the other on your arm he’s kissing you, keeping you close, but not grabbing you. You can stop it any second. You don’t. You revel in the feeling of his lips gently caressing yours. They taste like rain. His thumb is sliding along your jaw and your pussy aches with need. You’re cold from the rain but burning up inside for him at the same time. A shiver runs through your body and his lips leave yours.

“Let’s go back inside. You are freezing,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You curse your body for interrupting the most beautiful moment of your life but follow him when he takes your hand in his and leads you back into the house.

You’re dripping on his carpet in the living room until Professor Miller brings towels and you dry yourselves. He takes off his sweater and you swallow loudly when he rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt exposing his big forearms. His tousled wet curls take your breath away. One curl falls on his forehead and your heart hurts from how handsome he looks. He places his glasses on the coffee table and asks you,

“Would you like to change? I can give you my shirt. Or find something of Sarah.”

After discarding his soaked cardigan, you look down and see your sheer wet blouse sticking to your breasts but you don’t feel uncomfortable or embarrassed any more. You shake your head, wanting him to see you, all of you. The realization makes you gush and your pussy tingles, making you press your thighs together.

“God, you’re shivering, you can get sick,” he fusses over you and he’s right, you’re trembling all over, but not only because of the rain-drenched clothes. Your whole world is upside down. You shoved your crush on Professor Miller into the furthest corner of your heart, being scared of it. You were always good at limiting and controlling yourself, at making yourself feel less, not acting on your desires.

Until today.

Shaking legs bring you to the sofa and you sit down. He takes a blanket from the side of it and wraps you in it, rubbing your arms and back over the material, trying to warm you up.

He’s so close to you. You stare at his wet face, lashes stuck together, lips shining with the rain or your saliva or both.

It feels like a dream that you don’t want to end. His hands leave you and you look at each other. His gaze slides down to your lips and your heart flutters. You wonder if you have enough courage to kiss him again.

Suddenly you hear a loud thunder and jump in your seat. You look around and it’s like you finally woke up. Your heart freezes at the thought, ‘You kissed Professor Miller! You kissed your fucking tutor! Your mom’s friend! Fuck!’

Your head whips back to him. “I’m so sorry,” you mumble, trying not to burst into tears, your throat getting squeezed with embarrassment. “I…I don’t know why I’ve done it. I must have lost my mind. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking pity on me, Professor.”

His hand darts to your shoulder but he swiftly puts it away.

“First of all, call me Joel, please …and what do you mean by pity? I didn’t take pity on you. I acted inappropriately but… I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.”

You drop your head and murmur under your breath, “A complete mess?”

He sighs and takes your hand in his. His big warm palm engulfs it completely and you look up at him, not being able to contain yourself anymore, as tears well up in your eyes. His voice is warm and soft and so pleasant you wish he’d never stop talking.

“You’re a wonderful young woman. Intelligent, kind, capable of anything you’ll set your mind to. Your future is bright, I'm sure of it.”

You smile and tears roll down your cheeks.

“And you’re very beautiful. I hope someone tells you this.”

You sniff, eyes downcast, and shake your head, making your tears fall. Joel gently takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up so you would look at him. His face is blurry with all the wetness in your eyes. He cups your cheek and brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“Well, then let me do it. You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

Your heart stops. At least you think so because what you’re hearing can not be real. You died and went to heaven otherwise it’s unbelievable that Professor Miller… Joel is telling you this.

You’re gawking at him and he chuckles before taking his hand away.

“I love that I can see all your emotions on your face.”

You hastily close your mouth and try to collect yourself while a whirlwind of feelings swirls in your stomach.

“And I don’t regret kissing you.”

You search his face for a sign of a joke, but find none. He looks and sounds serious and you feel yourself lean closer to him.

“Me neither, Joel,” you whisper, his name sweet on your tongue, and lean forward a little. It takes him a second to meet you halfway and kiss you. He takes the lead and moves his lips slowly and gently against yours but you feel that he’s holding himself down by the way he breathes, the way his lips move faster and with more vigor until he stops himself. You feel hot wrapped in the warm blanket so still glued to him you unwrap yourself and it pools at your feet.

“You’ll get cold,” he mumbles against your lips and you shake your head no, still kissing him. You don’t want it to end so you desperately cling to him with only your lips touching.

Another thunder shakes the house and you feel his hand on your naked knee. You part your legs and scoot closer to him and his thumb brushes your inner thigh. Your whole body erupts with chills.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as his lips leave yours, “Your legs are ice cold.” He puts his hands on your arms, “And you’re still shivering, poor thing.”

You’re about to explain that it’s not because of the rain or wet clothes, at least not only. It’s him, his plush lips on yours, his warm hands gliding over your skin, his eyes looking at you so differently from what you’re used to. All of it makes every cell in your body vibrate, your stomach churn, your core burn with arousal.

But before you can tell him all that, he says something that makes you stop in your tracks, “Would you like to take a bath?”

For the hundredth time today you’re staring at him with your mouth agape.

“H-here? In your house?” you stumble, blinking at him.

“Yes. There's a nice tub upstairs in my bedroom.” He hears himself and hastily adds, “It’s not like that. Ehm… You can take it and I’ll wait for you here. I’m afraid you’ll get sick because of my carelessness.”

His beautiful brown eyes are pleading you to agree. You don’t want to leave him but your sodden cold clothes make the offer of a hot bath sound better with every second.

So you nod and he beams at you. In a second he’s walking upstairs and you’re trailing behind him, your hand in his. He leads you to his bedroom and you quickly look around, seeing that it’s perfect like the rest of his house, simple but cozy. You follow him to the en-suite bathroom and he starts the water. He explains to you how to make it colder and hotter like you’ve never seen a bathtub before but you don’t get offended or annoyed. He’s nervous, it’s visible and it makes you jittery too. Suddenly the idea of being alone without him makes you sad and your heart aches.

The tub fills up fast and while he’s telling you about the bath salts and towels you interrupt him,

“Can you stay?”

Now it’s his turn to gawk at you.

“When…until it’s full?” He asks and you shake your head.

“No, when I take it. Can you stay with me?”

He swallows loudly and takes a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve crossed so many lines today. I’m not sure I can cross this one.”

“You told me to do what I want right? And I want you to stay with me, Joel,” you say louder, trying to feign confidence, before taking a step to him.

“Are you sure?”

You look deep into his eyes, so close that you can see your own reflection in them and reply,

“I'm not sure about anything in my life… but I'm sure that I want this,” you say, drawing an invisible line between your hearts with your finger, and add, “Really badly.”

His dark eyes are darting between yours as if he’s looking for a trace of doubt in them. He won’t find any. He’s reading your features and they probably tell him something because in the next moment he slowly leans to you. The kiss is soft but the more you taste him the more confident you get.

So you press your body to his and he groans when your lower belly touches his bulge. Your heart and pussy flutter when you realize how big and stiff he is. Is it because of you? A part of you can’t believe a man like him can be interested in you but his body can’t lie.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling away but, in an attempt to interrupt something you don’t want to hear, you raise your hands and start unbuttoning your wet blouse.

Joel’s eyes are glued to your fingers, working their way up your top. Soon your belly is revealed, then sternum and your breasts, covered by the bra. You slide the blouse off your body and it pools at your feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel whispers, as his hand slowly lifts to your breast and he brushes your nipple through the thin lace of the bra with his thumb. It’s already perked up from all the kissing and the cold and you whimper, your body vibrating with desire at the slightest touch of his big hand.

You get impatient and take your skirt off too. You’re standing in front of him wearing nothing but a lace white set and Joel growls like a hungry wolf. You bite your lip, hearing the sound of his desire for you.

His gaze slides from your face to your breasts, belly, hips, legs and up to your face again. He seems to make a decision because soon he starts unbuttoning his shirt too.

“I’m going to hell,” he mumbles as the expanse of his chest is revealed to you and you salivate seeing his golden skin, soft belly, happy trail that leads down. Your clit twitches when he unzips his pants.

Soon his clothes join yours on the floor and he places his hands on your waist. You try not to look at the huge tent in his boxers but fail miserably. He smiles and pulls you into his arms and you hug his middle. He’s big and hot against your cold skin and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

“Still shivering, poor thing, let’s get you into the hot water,” he whispers and his hands slide to your back. He searches for your eyes and after you look up and nod, he unclasps your bra and takes it off you.

His chest is heaving when his gaze moves down to your naked breasts but he doesn’t stop stripping you. With his fingers hooked in your panties, he waits for your permission and then slides them down. They fall on the floor around your feet and you step out of them.

His eyes are completely obsidian now and his hands dart to you but he stops himself.

“Could you help me?” You ask and turn around before offering him your hand. He takes it and you step into the full tub. The water feels scolding hot at first but all your senses are focused on Joel and you lower yourself into the hot water. Sitting in the middle of the tub you look at his bulge, which is at your eye level now.

“Join me, please,” you plead and he mumbles soft “yeah,” before pulling his boxers down. His cock springs free and your pussy buzzes with anticipation and fear because he’s really big and thick.

Joel gets in the water behind you, his legs bent at the knees by your sides. He puts his hands on your shoulders and pulls you to lie down against his chest.

You rest your back on his warm broad chest and he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel his cock twitch against your lower back and a quiet whimper escapes your lips, “Joel.”

He almost purrs hearing how you said his name. You feel his heart beating hard at your back. His body, so big and strong, envelops you, warms you up better than the hot water around you and you feel like it’s where you belong, in his arms, reveling in his warmth, his softness, ready to give him anything he’d wish for.

The ache in your pussy gets harder to ignore and you squirm between his legs. He takes a sharp breath and bucks his hips against your butt. You feel his lips at your temple as he plants a kiss there.

“You’re so hot,” he praises you as his hands slide up your body and he cups your breasts. He palms your pebbled nipples and you moan, pressing your thighs together.

Then you tilt your head to the side and back and look up at Joel. His face is twisted in pleasure, eyes blown, and he lowers his head and catches your lips with his. This kiss is different from the ones you’ve shared before. Craving, impatience in every stroke of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, and you drown in pleasure of his caress.

Suddenly it’s not enough for the both of you. Without saying a word to each other you sit up and turn around while he helps you shift in the tub with his hands on your waist. You’re facing him now, standing on your knees, and he takes in your wet naked body before whispering,

“Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

You breathe out a soft ‘ok’ and in a second he lifts you up and sets you on the edge of the tub in the corner. You lean your back against the cold tile wall and shiver. Joel notices your reaction and starts pouring the water over you so you’d warm up again.

When you say that you’re not cold, he stands on his knees in front of you, his hands planted on the edge of the tub by your sides. He cages you in between his broad torso and the wall and your pussy pulsates for him.

“Could you spread your legs for me, please?” he says, sitting down on his heels, as his chest is pressed to your knees.

You slowly do what he asked and your pussy blooms for him, folds opening up to his view and Joel’s breath hitches and he llicks his lips at the sight.

“Oh, my,” he mumbles and glances up at you, "You have the most gorgeous pussy, sweetheart." That word on his lips sends a fiery wave through every inch of your body and you whimper, when he moves into the space between your legs, spreading your thighs wider with his broad torso.

His plush lips parted, eyes blown and restless, he takes you in - his gaze hastily runs over your face, breast, belly, cunt as if he can't get enough of you. He reaches for your face and kisses you deeply and passionately. His hand brushes against your aching pussy and you moan.

"My sweet girl," he whispers against the corner of your mouth and his soft lips move down to your neck, collar bone, chest. He's swirling his tongue over your nipple, his hand kneading your breast while you are running your fingers through his damp curls.

Soon he gets to your pussy and when his hot lips touch you there you almost come against his mouth.

“You’re sweet all over, honey,” he mumbles against your twitching clit, hunching down. Then he grabs your ankle in the water and lifts your leg.

“Put your foot on the edge, yeah, like that, good girl.” You’re completely exposed to him now but your desire shuts all your insecurities and you ache to show him every inch of you without any shame.

Soon you’re moaning and writhing on the edge of the tub as his tongue is dancing over your clit before his lips close around it and he gently sucks on the bud, keeping your folds spread with his thick fingers.

You’ve never felt more euphoric in your life and he approvingly hums against your pussy, when you whisper his name again and again, alternating it with whimpers and soft ‘yeah’s’.

“Damn, I can come just from hearing you, honey. What are you doing to me?” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs, eyes glistening. He looks completely pussy-drunk and it must be taking everything from him not to spill his seed into the bath water right now.

You give him a little apologetic smile and he continues pleasuring you. Joel’s caresses are slow and gentle, he’s almost edging you but when you start moving your hips, searching for more friction, he reads your signal immediately.

“Need more, sweetheart?”

You nod eagerly and with his hands on your inner thighs he starts devouring your pussy, his growls full of lust. The flat of his tongue is rubbing against your clit, then the warm muscle plunges into your crying hole as his nose nudges your clit and soon you’re screaming, shaking with the hardest climax of your life.

Joel laps at your juices, generously dripping into his greedy mouth as you’re digging your fingers into his broad shoulders, clenching around his tongue when he slides it inside you.

“Yeah… like that. Oh, my good girl,” Joel mumbles, his words muffled by your pussy.

When your climax dissipates, you rest your head back against the wall and he stays between your legs, peppering kisses on your inner thighs. His palms glide up and down your legs as you’re catching your breath.

When you look down, your eyes well up with tears when you see this big, gorgeous, intelligent, hot man on his knees in front of you. A voice inside your head reminds you that he’s much older, your parents will kill you, you’re fucked. But you push all your fears away when he gently helps you get back in the water and sets you on his lap.

Straddling him, you look into his eyes. You’re feeling a myriad of emotions but the brightest one makes your heart sing - you finally feel like yourself, confident, free, happy.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a smile, grateful for the pleasure but also for the self assurance he gave you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He returns your smile with the warmest grin and pulls you into his embrace before kissing you. His big arms envelop your torso as you melt against his chest.

His cock twitches between your bodies and the fire in your core ignites with a new force.

“I want you inside,” you whisper, nuzzling his neck.

“Oh, darling… I wish for nothing more but … I’m afraid to hurt you.”

You sit up straight and drop your gaze into the water. His cock looks painfully hard and huge and you take a sharp breath, imagining it piercing you.

“I wanna try,” you say with confidence.

He searches for any doubt in your eyes again and then nods. Joel helps you to stand on your knees in the bath, holding you steady with his hand on your hip, the other holding his cock at the base.

“Start slowly and if it hurts… stop any second, ok?”

You agree, positioning yourself right above his waiting cock and begin lowering your hips.

You feel his hot tip bump into your clit and, feeling a burst of pleasure, you grind against it a few times. You both moan at the sensation and Joel tightens his grip on your body.

His handsome face twisted in pleasure might be the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You don’t tear your eyes off him, wishing the image got sealed in your memory forever.

You shift a little, nudge your hole with his fat head and start sinking on his throbbing member.

He’s big. Really big.

You widen your eyes as his length parts your folds and slides inside you, surprisingly easily thanks to your recent orgasm.

Joel leans back against the tub and watches your pussy swallow him in the water, his brows furrowed, half-lidded eyes set on the place where you two are slowly joining.

You lower yourself further as your walls spread, trying to accommodate his member inside you. It hurts a little but you’re so aroused you hardly notice it.

Joel moans when you’re finally flush with him, his cock filling your wet heat perfectly.

“Fuck, ohhh, fuck… I’m sorry for all the cursing, honey, but your pussy feels fucking incredible.”

You smile at the praise and clench around him making him squeeze his eyes shut.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks with his eyes still closed.

You shake your head, but hastily add ‘no’, realizing he can’t see you.

“I’ve had a boyfriend. But he dumped me pretty quickly.”

He looks at you, brows furrowed, as he hears a slight sadness in your voice.

“His loss, sweetheart,” he says, gently taking your neck between his palms.

His gaze slides down your body to your pussy.

“Hnggg, you’re so tight.”

“Sorry. “

“What? No, it’s .. Gosh, I can’t think straight when you …look like this, wrapped around my cock. I’m in heaven.”

His warm hand rises to your face and he cups your heated cheek. You nuzzle into it smiling against his palm. Then you move your face a little and when you feel his thumb at your lips you part them and take it into your mouth.

His cock throbs deliciously inside you, and he moans as your tongue swirls over his thick finger.

“Oh my god, you naughty thing. You’re going to be the death of me.”

You smile around his finger and roll your hips a little. You both almost scream at the sensation. His thumb slips out of your open mouth as a wave of pleasure rushes through you. You seem to feel his cock everywhere. You can’t stop now, not with the way his thick length massages your pussy on the inside, sending bolts of ecstasy through your body.

You start fucking yourself on his stiff cock and you both fill the room with groans and whimpers, adding them to the soft splashing of the tub water.

He tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut while you feel another climax building.

“Oh, Professor,” you moan and he groans, clenching his teeth,

“Don’t.”

“What?” You ask and bite your lip, seeing that he’s deep in the pits of lust just like you are.

“Because I won’t let you stop calling me that,” he groans and your heart sings at the implication of you two doing it again in the future.

Not giving him any respite you breathe out, “It feels so good, Professor,” and start bouncing on his throbbing cock.

Joel moans but then holds you down.

“Baby, are you on the pill? I can’t… I’m gonna come soon.”

“No,” you reply through panting and he furrows his brows,

“Shit… not sure I have condoms,” he says, his eyes darting between yours. He clears his throat and adds, “I haven’t been with anyone for …some time now.”

You feel like he wants to apologize and you shut him up with a kiss.

“It’s ok. I’ll get Plan B. I want…want it inside me,” you whisper against his lips and sit up, starting to move again. You roll your hips, feeling your clit rub against his soft belly, and whimpers escape your parted lips again and again.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mumbles, watching your body slowly move on him. He’s almost drooling as his palm slides from your neck to your chest, over the swells of your breasts, brushing against your erect nipples, caressing the soft skin of your belly. He dips his hand in the water and presses it to a lump right over your mound and moans,

“Oh, fuck, I can feel my cock right here… do you feel me deep, baby? Tell me.”

“Yes, Professor,”

“Shit, I’m not gonna last, gonna fill you up.”

Looking down, you see it, the bulge in your belly moving up and down, his cock inside you stretching your skin.

With a loud moan, you clench around him and it sends a chain reaction making your pussy vibrate and contract, as another climax starts shaking your body.

“Yeah, baby, just like that… squeeze my fat cock, my good fucking girl.”

Not being able to hold any longer, Joel erupts inside your core, jets of cum spurting against your walls. You feel hot from the water and his heated body and now there’s warmth inside you too, your pussy’s getting filled with him.

You’re fucking yourself on his exploding cock while he’s sucking on your neck, and then he holds you so tight, it gets difficult to breathe. Every cell in your body is screaming with pleasure and you wish this moment never passed, he was inside you forever, holding you close.

When you both feel your climaxes subside, Joel leans back against the wall and pulls you to lie on his chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, plugged by his cock and full of his seed. You breathe in the scent of his skin, your hands on his chest as he rocks you like a big strong wave, slowly breathing in and out. You feel an immense affection towards him, and your throat gets squeezed with upcoming tears. You try to hide them from him but when you sniff he gently cups your cheek and makes you look at him.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” he asks, looking you over with worry in his gaze.

“No, I’m just… I’m just happy. I’m sorry.”

You smile at each other until he takes your face in his big hands and plants kisses on your eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, lips. You giggle when his facial hair tickles your delicate skin and he laughs with you.

Your bodies relaxed, hunger satiated, you stay in the bath for a few more minutes while he’s pouring water with his hands over your shoulders to keep you warm.

When the temperature lowers, he gets out of the tub and brings you a big fluffy towel while you shamelessly watch him move naked and wet around the bathroom. He helps you to get up and you bite your lip when his cock twitches at the sight of your body on display for him. He clears his throat and starts gently drying your skin. The memory takes you back to him drying you in his living room, before you crossed the line with him and you marvel how much changed between now and then.

You feel happy for the first time in a long time but also scared of what happens next. What if he goes back to being just your tutor, what if he doesn’t want to see you at all, what if your parents find out… The thoughts rush through your mind and he reads your face again and asks, “What is it, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, driving away your fears. Joel wraps you in the towel and you gasp when he lifts you. He laughs, carrying you to his bedroom, and then lowers you gently on the bed.

“Get under the duvet, sweetheart.”

You listen to him and get comfortable in his bed. The sheets smell of him and you can’t help but gush again. He brings your clothes and you sit up reaching for them so you could put them on but he stops you.

“Stay here. I’ll go get you the pill,” he says and makes you lie back down. After getting dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, Joel tucks you in and kisses you gently before leaving.

You hear his car drive off and fall into the comfort of his bed. You close your eyes for a second suddenly feeling tired.

You wake up from soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, lips.

“I hate to wake you up, honey, but your parents are worried.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes and holding the duvet over your naked breasts. You see the pill and a glass of water on the nightstand and take it.

“They called?” You ask, swallowing Plan B.

“Yes, I told them you needed to do some extra exercises.”

You giggle but he looks upset. Your fears come back again.

“You regret it,” you whisper, as your eyes well up with tears.

In a second you’re in his big arms and he whispers against your cheek,

“Never, baby. I don’t. But I can’t help but feel guilty. I should know better. I feel like I’m robbing you of your time. You should be someone young, someone who can give you more.”

You search for his eyes and take his face in your hands.

“No, I don’t want anyone else. I want… I need you.”

You kiss him and pull him to lie over you on the bed. You’re making out holding each other close. The rain has stopped and you can hear birds chirping outside through an open window.

“Fuck.. I need to go,” you whine, parting from Joel and reaching for your clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Language, young lady,” he scolds you with a smirk. You bite your lip and purr with a sultry tone, “Sorry, Professor.”

You love how this word makes him shiver with arousal now.

He adjusts himself, cursing under his breath and his dark eyes are watching you while you’re giving him a little show while putting on your clothes - gliding your hands over your body, slowly slipping into your panties and bra. When you slide your arms into your already dry blouse, he gets up to button it up for you. Soon your lips gravitate towards each other and it takes a lot from you to part from him again.

You go downstairs and Joel offers to drive you home but you politely refuse.

“I’ll walk. I love the smell of the air after rain,” you smile ready to leave, standing at the door, “besides someone told me to enjoy myself more so I’m gonna follow his advice.”

You smile at each other and he gives you a farewell kiss, hugging you, before whispering in your ear, “My sweet girl. Thank you.”

You look deeply into his eyes and ask,

“See you on Thursday?”

“Yes, but you’re going to study.” Your widened sad eyes make him chuckle as he adds, “Among other things.”

You beam at him, peck his lips and walk out of the door, feeling wings behind your back.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! 💖

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @littlemisspascal

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS | JOHNNY CAGE MK1 WITH S/O

A/N: Yes, he's my favorite, please make requests for me with this man, I need ideas, I need requests- I'm obsessed for him. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post.

TW: sfw, smut, fluff, sex, sexual positions, afab reader, pet names, vaginal sex, oral m!re. | f!re |, degradation, daddykink.

SFW:

Johnny Cage is the typical golden retriever boyfriend, he will want your attention because we know he is an attention slut, not only applies to his fans but also to you, you need to keep in mind that when Johnny wants your attention, He'll get it one way or another, whether it's sending you countless messages, asking you for affection, or even begging you to stay with him, if you're the type to get angry and punish him with silence, he'll be very upset. bad, even becoming physically ill.

He loves being emotionally pampered, a lot of cuddling with him with his head in your lap, while the two of you watch a movie together in the living room of his mansion, while you massage his scalp and the light brown locks of his silky hair, he would be happy. smiling like a fool in love - which he is - even if you pointed it out, he would deny it with some typical joke of his, if you threaten to leave his side or stop making out with him he will pout and complain, a lot.

He also likes tight arms just enjoying the silence between the two of you, chaste kisses on his forehead or cheek are welcome, especially if you wear lipstick or gloss, he will smile sideways and run his fingers through the warm residue on your lips on his skin.

Johnny likes to show you on all his social networks, always taking selfies with you and posting them, stories talking to his fans but always with you by his side, he loves sharing some couple story about the two of you so that everyone can laugh at such a situation that you passed by, like the time he got the location of the award show he was going to wrong and you had to walk a long way to get to the right place, with Johnny carrying you on his back obviously, he wasn't going to make his beautiful S/O walk. If you're the shy type, he'll push you a little, not because he's mean, but because he wants to show you to the world, show the person who makes Johnny Cage happy, but if you still don't want to, he'll respect your decision, Even if it upsets him a little at first, he will still take photos of you and the two of you together, with various filters, from the cute ones to the most cursed ones he finds.

The two of you have a YouTube and Twitch channel together, he already had a channel so now you are a regular guest, after all you date him. Johnny loves just chatting in chat, or reacting to some edits and fanarts that his fans make of him live, he always thanks everyone and is satisfied, from the most amateur to the most professional, everyone is valid and valuable from Cage's perspective , and he also loves the edits with the photo and video of you as a couple, with you and him thanking you for your affection, he leaves the @'s of the editors and designers, encouraging their growth. In the lives it also happens that Johnny plays some games with you, his favorite is the horror genre, he loves seeing your reactions because you feel tense around him and the chat, he sits on a black gaming chair in the center of the camera and you or in the background or on his side - it's your choice - he also gets scared very easily so you can take advantage and poke his shoulder or arm during a tense moment in the gameplay, he'll jump and scream from his chair like a scared kitten while letting out a series of swear words - he may or may not have let his glasses fall to the floor and break one of those times.

Johnny lets you wear his clothes, he's very stylish, if there's something you like, you can wear it, he has enough money to buy a new and identical piece, but obviously there are clothes that he's more zealous and jealous of, he He'll even let you use it if you tell him you'll be careful, if you tear it or get it dirty, he won't do anything other than sigh and get irritated for a few hours, then go buy a piece like the old one and pretend nothing happened.

He also loves that you make him breakfast, he loves his food, his seasoning, the smell of warm food makes Johnny wake up in bed with a satisfied smile, seeing you in his kitchen, preparing everything for him, that's it. it also made his ego rise, but in a good way after all he has you in his life and no Hollywood award compares to having you as his partner, he comes up behind you and while hugging you, giving you a kiss on the head and smelling you, even though he's drowsy, he wants to be there with you, watching you make his breakfast with such care - Cage also whispers in a hoarse and low voice how much he loves you, thanking you for being so helpful to him and that will reward you later however you want -

The two of you play 'just dance' together, Johnny knows practically all the choreographies and makes you dance with him, whether you're good or bad at dancing, what matters to him is that you just have fun with him, and he's great at dancing, knowing move the hips extremely well and being very elastic.

Johnny loves sending you memes, posts, songs, everything he sees and remembers about you he will send you immediately, Johnny is the type who has a gallery full of memes that he never sent because he forgot, he is the type who sends more than +99 reels in less than 10 minutes, so if you two have been chatting don't be surprised if you get distracted and have more than 60 videos in your dm, each with a caption and context from Cage:

"I remembered you."

"LMAO you that day (Y/N)"

"That song is the one you like, isn't it?"

"lol that's so me"

"That food looks delicious, can we make it later?"

"pookie wookie"

"This film appears a lot in my fy, let's see it this weekend"

"Am I bbg in this edit?"

He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.

He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.

The two of you have a typical mean girls night together, with skincare, hair moisturizing, movies together and gossiping together, Johnny doesn't mind if you want to try makeup on him, or paint his nails - as long as it's black and he's not in No acting roles at the moment - he accepts it willingly, and he even likes it when you do eyeliner on him - he looks even more handsome, believe me. -

Loves to pamper you materially! Johnny is the type that if he sees that you are looking too much at a certain product in a store, he will pull you and enter the place, calling the salesperson immediately and buying everything you want, and I guarantee you, he knows exactly when you want something. or when you're lying that you don't want to because you're embarrassed, if you lie and try to say that you didn't want to, Johnny will get serious and immediately take the most expensive products in the store for you, as a form of "punishment" for lying to him. He will be able to take you to the concert of your favorite band or singer when he is off work as a Hollywood star or he will hire the singer/band you want to do a private show at his mansion, nothing is too expensive or impossible for Johnny Cage.

He loves romantic nights with you. Johnny will put on a fancy suit, hire a good buffet for a candlelit dinner with you, something he does practically every weekend, it has become a couple's tradition in your relationship. A good dinner and expensive wine, to end the night with the lights of the Cage mansion partially turned off, with you and Johnny in the large marble area, the only light was from the moon that entered through the large video window, with the song: "You rock my world - Michael Jackson" playing in the background, on the speakers of the luxurious room, with the two of you pressed against each other, just singing while dancing intertwined in a heat of passion and love. - Johnny loves this song because he says it sums up what you did in his life, you rocked his world in a way that he can only thank you internally for being the love of his life, and being the person he can count on always, even though he is sometimes too arrogant and proud to admit it, he always says: "-This song sums up what I feel and have always felt about you honey." -It's his way of saying he loves you, when he can't say it directly.

He hates to show it, but he is extremely insecure, after the separation from his ex-wife - Cris - he always asks you if you still love him or if you will leave him one day, this insecurity causes some jealous attacks when you go out, doesn't it? nothing serious, just Johnny sulking and asking you why you're so different with him - which you weren't - just make this man sure of your relationship, holding his arm or hand when you go out helps a lot, with him smiling stupidly in the corner because you're proud to be dating him, after all who wouldn't be? he is Johnny Cage after all.

He's extremely intelligent, so he'll love rambling about everything about you, movies, art, history, everything. He will talk about several topics at the same time, while his head is in your lap.

NSFW:

Recorded sex: He carries that stupid phone of his 24 hours a day, that is, this also applies to sex, he will fuck you practically making a movie every time, recording in HD all your reactions and how you fit your body to his so well , moans, juices of lust, your face salivating with pleasure, the nicknames, the dirtiest things, all recorded and saved in a folder with a password on his cell phone. He uses the videos to masturbate when he is traveling to direct a film as a director, he becomes needy and needs you by his side, having to settle for the homemade porn videos that the two of you make together, your pussy jumping on his dick in the video, his body, his reactions, as he whimpered, fucking his own dick in his hand, writhing on the hotel bed he was in.

Sex on the phone: Well, when the porn videos you made, he will call you, begging you to masturbate on call with him, either just vocally, or on video call, or exchanging nudes while the two of you did it.

"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."

Daddykink: Self Explanatory, he loves being called daddy by you, he himself has a habit of calling himself daddy in random situations, with an arrogant air. "-Leave it to Daddy, Baby." "-Oh yes, Daddy Johnny is here to sort it out." And this applies to sex, he will fuck you while you call him Daddy or Daddy Johnny - he loves that shit, it boosts his ego like hell. -

Degradation and praise: He loves to praise you and degrade you at the same time, he also loves to be praised during sex, especially when you do the "missionary" position, while he looked at your face, fucking your pussy with greed and hunger.

"-Do you want to cum, my naughty little slut?"

"-You really want my seed to fill your pussy, don't you? You're such a dirty slut, wanting to be bred by me. You want to mark you as mine, don't you?"

"-You're nothing but a filthy whore, begging for my cock."

"-You're such a good boy/girl, taking my dick in that tight, pretty pussy, like the good slut you are."

His favorite sexual positions with you: 69, Doggy Style, Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl, Missionary, Scoop Me Up, The Seashell, The Pinball Wizard, Valedictorian, Table Top, The Lazy Man, The Snake, Stand and Deliver.

He also loves giving oral, he would really stay under your legs all day fucking you with his tongue if he could, in every corner of his mansion that he could, his tongue fucks you in the right spots, passing from your clitoris to the your entrance tight, his thick and firm hands keep you in place, holding the soft flesh of your hips, massaging the area in small circles with his thumb while looking into your eyes, while his mouth was too busy working for you. make you cum - maybe... Just maybe he rubs his nose on your clitoris to tease you, he has a big nose... Just maybe. -

Johnny likes blowjobs when he's angry, he likes to come home, have a good whiskey while sitting on the couch, and you between his legs, sucking him greedily, it was a relaxing sight, making Johnny remember the good things about life, you.

"-Yes fuck baby... Keep going... I really need to cum, you're my good boy/girl, sucking my dick so good."

Please squirt on this man! He loves to fuck you and make you squirt, whether with his dick, tongue, fingers or even vibrators - which you have to stimulate your pussy and his dick in some foreplay - Johnny just wants you to cum and get him all wet with your Sweet essence, the first time you squirted on him you were embarrassed, but he wasn't, he seemed to have discovered a new world, smiling like a fool.

"-Mmmm Johnny... I... Please take it off, I-" -You tried to speak between moans, while your pussy squeezed Johnny's cock more than ever, he felt something different, smiling sideways.

"-Fuck I bet that's a fucking squirt, come on, I want to see you squirt on my dick baby, this is going to be so fucking hot, just cum in that tight pussy." -Johnny says, thrusting his dick even more into your pussy, with all the strength and speed he could have in his hips at that moment, fucking you to the core, he gives a strong thrust, hitting his dick on your cervix, making you moan and squirt on his dick, abdomen and groin, dirtying him all over, while he smiled extremely happily.

"-I won't stop fucking you until you do it again baby." -He says smug with a cheesy wink, but he was serious, you were going to do that until he saw you squirt and cum like that again.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023