#this does in fact extend to sex and does in fact make talking to an angel slightly awkward at times. the end

[thegreatyin]

hello and welcome to my notes/formal presentation on how angels are actually all just weird autistic birds. any questions.

[tremendum]

personal lies

[not my gif. title from the song of the same name, by Djo.] pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her)     rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)       word count: 5.6k  requested: Hi! Your work is so insane and incredible! I've literally been thinking about Joel Miller nonstop and was wondering if you'd write a fic where reader is flirty but also has a way of getting herself into clumsy situations- like she bends over to grab something at a party and Joel turns around at the same time and he's pressed right against reader's ass- and these situations keep happening and she just bullies him about him being a pervert until he finally does something about it ;) Keep up the incredible writing!! summary: "when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons." warnings: healthy age gap (reader is around 23, Joel is like 47), DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader, dom!Joel, semi-public sex, light voyeurism, choking, light dacryphilia, inappropriate use of household appliances, use of word slut, its dirty, slight allusions to exhibitionism, brief choking, so much dirty talk (its joel), so much degradation, reader calls Joel a pervert, teasing, slight dumbification, brief spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum play, spanking. think that's it!

notes: okay once again, another mean!Joel for the soul! its a problem! im happy for this request bc it helped so much with my writer's block. pls pls keep sending requests i love them all u guys are amazing.

[other Joel fics: i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you fever landmines  Mr. Miller Series ]

★  

the bathroom window fogs much quicker than it used to. 

it's the first thing you've realized since returning back to your childhood home - the lack of use in your old shower, now empty of all the half-used floral shampoos and body scrubs of your youth. 

you suppose it makes sense, with your father living on his own now that you're five years out of the house - he has no real need to shower in the bathroom you'd once used as your own. in fact, as you examine under the cabinets and the medicine cupboard, it seems as though he's converted it into a storage room for cleaning supplies and the odd bundle of cotton swabs. 

it makes you grin as you massage lotion into your legs, staring at your foggy reflection. 

your father's muffled voice from downstairs shouts something and, in lieu of a response, you towel off and wrap it around yourself, cursing your father for not restocking towels that were large enough to cover yourself in a modest way to your trek back to your room; not that it much matters, your father's friends won't be arriving for another hour and a half, at the least. 

you're struck with something from your youth when you open the door, though -

and it grunts in response. 

the breath leaves your throat as your eyes drag over the expanse of chest which lies just in front of the bathroom, with a hand extended almost as if he were about to open the door - muscular arms and a familiar wristwatch - certainly not your father's. 

you gape up at Joel Miller, who stares, wide-eyed, back down at your form.

your face floods with an immense amount of heat; Joel Miller, your father's closest friend.

you haven't seen him since last summer - and before then it was even more scarce. between college out of state and splitting summers with your father and mother, before your visit home last summer, you don't think you'd seen him since you left for university. 

he's changed, but not that much - tan, with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a nicely fit t-shirt that brings out the honey of his eyes. now, though, he's got slight smile lines on his face that compliment his striking, burly features and a peppering of gray through his hair; your mouth runs dry as you take in the large frame of thick shoulders and contoured biceps. christ. 

when you were a teen, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - he was kind, funny, and would always buy you iced tea when he ran for some beers for him and your father after a day working around the house or in the yard. but he was just your dad's friend, someone who made you blush strictly because he was teasing you. 

now, though - ever since last summer when you'd caught his eyes lingering on your figure a few too many times, he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons. it was a thrilling game you came to know last summer - the way he’d flush and clench his jaw after every quip, each slight tease of phrase, wink, of riding up of your skirt when he walked by.

it makes your stomach flip still - and the most delicious part of it all is the smoldering glares he'd give you when you pushed him too far; last summer, you'd discovered the only good thing about your clumsy, teasing nature: Joel's reactions. 

he’s everything the gentleman, always has been - even when you pushed his buttons, flustered him, he never lost his cool. only ever let his eyes wander and speak for themselves.

so when you open the door directly into him, you’re shocked to see him standing there, eyes wide.

his appearance throws you off, as there was nobody besides your father in the house when you'd stepped into the shower minutes before. tilting your head, you regain your footing quickly, heart picking up as you see his eyes rake over the length of your legs, exposed from the tiny pink towel you wear.

it’s been far too long you think, noting the change in his face when he recognizes you.

his eyes scour over every curve of your body, as if seeing you for the first time- you can’t hide your smirk. "can I help you with something, Joel?"  

his eyes avert just as quick as they found you, staring at something extremely interesting just above the crown of your head. "was lookin' for some rags. your father spilled downstairs." he shifts on his feet, looking into the steamy bathroom behind your frame, "didn't realize there was anybody home..." 

you hum, lifting a brow, "good thing I came out when I did," you send him a sly grin, "or else you'd have gotten a show." you tease, shooting him a gentle wink.

his eyes narrow slightly, tilting his head. he mutters your name lowly and it strikes you that you haven’t seen him in over a year and here you are, staring up at him, in a minuscule towel.

“watch it. didn’t know y’were in there.” he utters, sounding defensive as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

the rumble of your name as it leaves his lips is insatiable; it bathes you in heat as his eyes flicker down towards your chest and back up to your eyes and you smirk, a light tut leaving your mouth.

"sure you didn’t, Joel.”

he cocks a brow at your implications, his head tilting slightly, but he says nothing. your father yells something about warped wood downstairs and the moment snaps, Joel clearing his throat and you looking away.

“I'm onto you, perv." you smirk, winking once again. you don't give yourself the chance to see his reaction as you brush past him, a flick of your wet hair trailing over the green cotton of the shirt that hugs his biceps. you don't hear him move even as you slide past your door and shut it. 

it’s not until you’re inside your room that you hear the bathroom door slam so hard it reverberates through your walls. you fight your racing heartbeat and dull throb of arousal, pressing your fingers against your hot cheeks. 

"honey?" your dad calls as you leave your room.

“Joel's here. come say hi and help us set up."

your heart skips, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you round the stairs, where the two men stand at the bottom. feigning surprise, you start down the steps towards them. "hi, Mr. Miller." you say pleasantly, "when did you get here?" 

Joel's eyes flash with something as he watches you, tilting his head as if trying to decipher what you're playing at - as if he didn’t see you in a towel thirty minutes ago.

"little bit ago." he responds, shifting on his feet and watching you with crossed arms. “when did you get here?” he counters, nodding to your suitcase, which sits still at the top of your stairs.

your dad laughs at your words, though, breaking the tension he didn't even feel before you can answer Joel’s question. "-Mr. Miller? since when did you have any manners?" your dad snorts, "been calling him Joel as long as I have."   you roll your eyes playfully at him, reaching the last step, still a few inches shorter than the man next to your dad. 

Joel’s eyebrows raise; you look away as you grin. “trying to be polite, I guess. it’s been a bit.” you shrug.

"guess they did teach ya something mature in college, huh?" you dad smirks, nudging your arm. you flush and shrug just as Joel swallows, "haven't seen you in a while, sweetheart." he nods, "how've you been?" 

you smile, "been really good, Joel. better now that I get to see my favorite old man." you tease, stepping between the two men, eyes trailing over Joel's gaze even as you walk away. despite your dad's grunt of offense at your joke, he still grins, "you look nice, honey." he says, patting your shoulder.

you smile, not breaking eye contact with Joel as you hum, "thanks, I just showered."  

the crowd is thicker than you expected.

you didn’t know your father even had this many friends.

besides your own friends who you’d invited to come catch up, you spent the afternoon chatting with nearly every person in the old neighborhood you’d ever met.

if you thought being home from school while you were a student was bad, being freshly graduated at a backyard barbeque full of your dad's friends was much, much worse. 

flocks of couples, neighbors, and family friends gravitate towards you in waves, asking about your achievements and new job and oh, what's it like in the big city? 

you're barely able to break away for a minute to stalk over to the side of your house, nestled up in the grass of your backyard, to grab refreshments - sure, you've already had a few beers and you're not particularly thirsty, but Joel's leaning up against the side of the house and you're drawn with a heat in your abdomen towards him.

a small group of men talk just next to the coolers, engrossed in some conversation that holds no interest to you; but he's there, and something inside you screams for his attention. 

you barely brush his back to excuse yourself past the bodies, reaching down into the cooler to fish out something palatable.

but your blood runs just as cold as the ice in your hand when a sudden pressure against your ass sends a shiver of desire through you. 

you instinctively gasp. the pressure of someone’s hips pressing firmly but briefly against your ass, by accident, startles you as you stand up, a pulsing desire spreading through you instantly once you see Joel, face in shock, behind you.

you swallow; he must have turned after thinking someone’d tried to get his attention, just as you’d bent over. your face heats up.

you're met with eyes that hold awkward shock and a small dark flame that flickers slowly as your shame suddenly melts into a smirk, lunging at the perfect opportunity to sink your claws into him. 

"s-sorry, didn't see you there." he stutters slightly. heat pools in your stomach at the flush on his cheeks, the white ring around his knuckles spreading where he grips the neck of his beer bottle too tight. 

grinning, you shrug. "it's okay, Joel. I'm sure it was an accident. you seem to be prone to them." you say sweetly, voice sounding almost simpering as you smile.

from the look he gives you, it's clear he can see right through your words. "were you grabbing a beer?" you ask, watching his jaw clench. 

"no, I was-" but he stops himself at the teasing raise of your brows, shaking his head as he tries to save himself from your teasing. "sure. yeah." 

but just like that, he's fallen into your trap, and you smile, “just watch where you’re standing this time, yeah?” you ask. and within a split second, you're bending over again right before him, falsely digging through ice to grab a bottle that you know he likes. you shift slightly, leaning your weight on one leg as to pop your hip slightly before straightening up and handing the bottle to him with a smirk.

when you whirl back around, his eyes are up towards the sky, jaw clenched tightly with strain as if silently praying to god; though you know Joel Miller has not once stepped foot into a church in his whole life. he clears his throat tersely, eyes meeting yours again as he grabs the bottle from you. "thanks," he mutters. 

"you might want to finish that one first." you say with a grin, nodding towards his half-full beer bottle opened in his hands. he looks riled as he sends you a harsh look that only makes you smirk more, shrugging as you saunter off. 

as much as you try, you can’t get the feeling of Joel pressed against you out of your mind.

and, with a shivering glance across the patio, you can tell he can’t either; while fully engrossed in a conversation with a woman close to his age, you lock eyes with Joel for a full five seconds before you break away. his gaze is heavy and intent - it follows you, watches you interact with people from the town and your friends from high school.

despite the scorching stares he sends you from across the yard, you keep your distance from Joel, too. you're engrossed catching up with a few friends from high school on the patio when your dad pulls you aside, asking you to help out bringing the food onto the patio. 

bowls of chips, salads, roasted vegetables, condiments, and several different variations of sweets are brought out and spread across the folded tables outside. the smell of ribs and pulled pork from your father's smoker fills the air while you fill a tub full of water for the kids on the law to bob for apples in, watching from the serenity of your kitchen. 

the breeze floats through the open window as you stare out, the scene calm as you let your thoughts linger. out near the yard, a woman leans down to pick up a discarded paper plate and the man beside her places his hand on her hip; a gentle squeeze that has your eyes glued to the motion. unable to help it, your mind wanders.

Joel's hands are large; they're rough with callouses from work and the skin gets cracked during the winter, but they're warm. you start to wonder if he's got a woman to touch like that - sure, you remember a few women who'd hung out around your dad and him when you were younger, once Sarah was old enough. but there'd never, to your knowledge, been a serious girlfriend.

you watch with desire as the man taps the woman's hip, fingers close to her ass, as she straightens, and it causes you to avert your eyes. your cheeks heat as you imagine the way it'd feel if you were out there - if the man's hand was Joel's, if he were to grab you in the middle of all these people, shove you down onto your knees-

you clear your throat, eyes snapping down to the sink where the water was overflowing from the bin with a gentle bubbling noise.

you groan to yourself in embarrassment. you need to get a fucking grip - no, you need to get laid. 

the tub is filled a little too high; it's unsteady as you lift it up, hoisting it above your hips to hold against yourself as you turn around. but there's a figure behind you that makes you jump in shock, jolting the tub until it spills over yourself. you're hit with a shocking rush of cold as the water tips and drenches you; you let out a sharp yelp as one hand flies to your chest. "christ!" you snap, eyes landing on the perpetrator - 

"Joel!" you snap, "you scared me."

"jesus," he mutters, moving towards you, grabbing the bin from you and placing it down on the counter, "I wasn't even close t'you, sweetheart. I was walkin' into the garage." 

you swallow, taking a breath to calm your tight nerves. "I was zoned out, I guess-" you curse your bumbling hands, a light breeze catching over your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. just your luck.

you sigh, tilting your head, "what are you doing, slinking around here?" you raise a brow as you accuse him. he rolls his eyes, "ain't slinking anywhere. was goin' to find apples. your dad is adamant about those kids on the lawn. afraid they're gonna tear up his landscaping." 

you sigh, shaking your head, "you made me spill." you pout dumbly, heart still pounding as you become increasingly aware of how wet your dress is- his eyes narrow, "'s not my fault you're always gettin' yourself into trouble." he mutters, shrugging as he looks down at your chest, the fabric slowly melding itself against your hot skin as the water spreads. 

"says you." you retort, shaking your head. his eyes catch yours after you mutter it; a quick, intense glance that sends a strike of heat through you. a warning look. 

but as always, he doesn't linger on your teasing, instead clearing his throat and moving on. it drives you mad as he hums. "at least it's water." he tries, "clean you right up." he hands you a dish towel, which you take with a quirked brow. desire burns between your legs.

"I already showered today," your voice is seductive, floating through the tense silence of the room as your eyes meet the side of his face. "as I'm sure you haven't forgot." you tease.

his hands freeze from where they were, wiping some of the water from the counter with a towel. he turns slowly to look at you, face dark. the air suddenly feels thick. "what's that supposed to mean?" his voice is low, brows drawn as he stares down at you - jaw clenched, chest heaving. his eyes dare you to say it, to let him take a bite. 

you hum, "don't act coy now, Mr. Miller." you tease, watching his eyes darken with your words. "I see the way you watch me. don't act like you aren't thinking about me." you add boldly, heart hammering - if, somehow, you've made it all up in your delusional head, you're utterly fucked. 

but his jaw ticks and his inhale is sharp, a flicker of his eyes down to your bra as it peeks through the wet material gives him away. it lights a flame within you that nothing else ever has. 

"creeping around upstairs while I'm showering. you're trying to tell me you weren't about to slide in, take a peek?" you tilt your head to stare up at him through lidded eyes, kicking the teasing up the highest you've ever done. 

you push onto your tip toes, your dripping chest mere inches from his as the barbeque continues feet away, outside. "you want to see it, don't you? feel me against you, like you did out there? I'm really warm." you mutter, drinking in his silence as he heaves his chest against yours. “and so tight.” you whisper, bold courage seeping through you as your eyes fall to the straining tent in his pants.

a rush of pride tickles you when he doesn't stop you, doesn't tell you off - so you continue, legs jelly with arousal. "I'm way too young for you, but you just can't stop yourself, can you?" you whisper into his ear, "you're so perverted, Joel." 

you're throbbing with heat when you pull back slightly to drink in his red cheeks, his piercing stare that nearly kills you. his glare is molten, sharp as his gaze flickers from you then out to the party, returning with a burning malice. "go change. now." is all he says.

"are you distracted, Joel?" you tease, smirking up at him. “or just too scared?”

“shut up.” he orders, the malice behind it barely surviving his bark as his eyes dip quickly to your chest and back.

you smirk, “you can’t keep your eyes away from me. you’re a sick man, Joel.” you mutter, letting your hand drag down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts through your wet fabric. he nearly growls, rough hand flying to your bare arm, tugging you close to him. "take it off." he hisses.

you blink up at him, shivering from the hungry, dark eyes that seem to tear you apart inch by inch, as you breathe out a defiant, "you're not my dad." 

he chuckles at that, an exhale leaving his lips. "you're damn right 'm not. and you're not a fuckin' child. go change." 

you settle on a darker sundress this time, to avoid another wardrobe malfunction.

your heart hammers just as loud in your throat as it did minutes earlier in the kitchen as you stare out your bedroom window, searching for one figure in the crowd of guests. Joel's nowhere in sight, yet the kids are all huddled around a tub of water with bright red apples bobbing up and down. 

with a sharp sigh, you gather your undergarments and dress to bring down to the washer, flicking off your light. 

the laundry room smells fresh - a breath of clean air after the suffocating tenseness of the kitchen. the thought of Joel's face makes your cunt flutter slightly; that dark, angry stare - the rouge of his cheeks at your words. where doubt should creep in, nothing but pride fills your mind, knowing you can rile up the man just as easy as riding a bike. 

you've just started the wash cycle, moving to stand up when the door slams shut, making you jump once again to be met with Joel's large frame. 

you raise your brows, masking your shock and nerves with a grin, "back for more, creep? too late, I already put my panties in the wash-" 

but he crowds into you so quick that your mouth snaps shut; your back hits the edge of the washer as you stare up at him, shocked. "'m tired of your shit," he sneers, eyes angry, "prancin' around, wearing next to nothin' and bendin' over for everyone to see." your stomach flutters.

he sneers his next words. "you really that clumsy, or are you just too shy to admit how bad your pussy's aching for your daddy's best friend?" 

your jaw nearly drops from such bluntness coming from Joel's lips. you've rarely even heard him cuss - only during football games and the one time he burnt his hand on the grill after you'd leaned over and given him a perfect view down your shirt. 

 "Joel-" you start, a rush of arousal flooding the seat of your panties as you're pushed backwards. he leans into your space, dipping his head until he's in your ear. "who's the real creep, huh?" he mutters, warm breath scattering chills over your neck, "you’re sick, baby. goin' after men almost twice your age." he tuts, sliding his thick jeans between the soft skin of your thighs. “you got no idea what a man like me could do t’ya.” you gasp sharply, hands gripping his thick shoulders and he pushes you back further, your spine thrumming with the rumble of the washing machine.

“bet you think you can show me, don’t you?” you challenge, raising a brow.

"tired of your bullshit, sweetheart." he shakes his head, leaning back. "how am I gonna get you to shut up?" he asks mockingly. you swallow, canting your hips slightly as a prickle of desire rolls over you. "bet you'd love to turn this into a lesson, wouldn't you Joel?" you tease back, but he moves his leg up slightly, the rough material brushing against your heat. jolts of pleasure erupt from the spot and you let out a short mewl. his hand rises to grip your jaw, firm but gentle. his skin is hot and large against your cheeks. 

"don't lie, sweetheart, you love it." he growls, "you love trippin' and spillin' shit just so I can come clean up your mess for you. 's that right? you just need my attention?" his thumb caresses over your cheek, jilting a brow as he stares down at you, "answer me." 

you swallow dryly, nodding pathetically, "yes." 

he tuts, condescending as he tilts his head. "where's all the teasing now, baby? you're always so talkative. did'ya realize I'm too much for you?" he taunts. 

you shake your head, eyes wide, "no!" you eject, flames of heat licking your cheeks as he smirks. you try to go back on yourself, play down your eagerness, "-no, you're not too much, I promise." 

he tilts his head the other way this time, eyes sharp. "so what is it, then? y'afraid of all the people out there? that your daddy's gonna come looking for ya and find us in here? see me touching you, like the pervert I am? because I'll leave right now 'f that's what you want." 

you shiver as another rush of arousal floods you, twitching your hips at his words, the low drawl of his voice. you grasp him tight by his biceps, holding yourself against him as you meet his hot stare, unable to voice your desires. your blood pumps with need. 

"oh." he hums, eyes narrowing as he pushes his thigh up against you roughly, eliciting a short moan from you. "or do you like that?" 

you swallow, eyes lowering to where you drag your hips over his leg, pathetically desperate. he chuckles and it reverberates in his chest under your palms. "anyone could walk in here, sweetheart. your dad could be on the other side." he whispers into your ear, coaxing a moan from you - he tuts, "-an the washer's not loud enough if y'gonna moan like that." 

you nod, staring into his eyes; they pierce you with their intensity. he's giving you an out, asking if this is what you really want, or if its just some juvenile grasp for attention. your mind has been made up since you found out Joel was coming today, though. 

"I'll be quiet for you, Joel." you whisper, nodding, "I can handle it." 

you can tell, he likes that; he presses to you fully, his hardening cock pressing against your side. you sharply inhale, the reality settling in as you drip with desire, aching for his touch. boldly, with a breath of fresh desire, you snake your hand down to palm him through his jeans - he's thick, straining against his jeans as his grip on your jaw tightens. 

"how long have you been this hard, Joel?" you tease, confidence sudden as you smirk, "bet you've been thinking of me since you tried to sneak into the shower earlier for a peep show." 

his hand slides down to grasp your throat as your sentence tapers out: a squeeze causes a rush of pleasure through you. "quit it with the fuckin' lyin'. you're already desperate enough." his breath is hot on your face. with a grin, you accentuate a squeeze on his bulge, coaxing a short grunt from him. "says you, old man?"

this pushes him to the edge. 

rough hands leave your hip and throat to flip your body over, pushing you until you're bent over the washing machine, its vibrations tremoring your whole body. "eager, are you?" you tease, gasping when one hand presses you from the base of your neck.

his voice is sharp in response, "tired of you, sweetheart. gonna fuck all the teasin' right out of you." 

your cunt flutters at his words, wiggling your hips until you press against his crotch, feeling the hard thickness of his clothed cock over your panties. "-and you'll probably love every second of it too.” you mutter against the cold white surface of the washer. 

a harsh swat on your ass makes you yelp slightly, the pleasure smearing arousal between your thighs, legs shaky with anticipation. you swallow heavily when your dress is shoved up over your hips, exposing your skimpy panties to Joel as his large hands splay over the flesh of your ass. 

his hands grip and squeeze your skin, teasing you, as slowly his fingers graze over the seat of your underwear, toying with the ruined, soaked fabric. "you're dripping," he taunts you, the stark words causing your eyes to widen, a short whimper leaving your lips. "eager, are you?" he parrots your words. 

you let out a shuddered moan, swallowing as a finger falls to rub feather-light circles over your throbbing, clothed clit. the sensation has you bucking back against his touch, but his own grip on you prevents your movement; a harsh grip on your neck, forcing you down against the vibrations of the machine.

"tell me what you want." Joel mutters, voice commanding. you resist the urge once again to roll your eyes as you grit your teeth; your own medicine tastes bitter as he feeds you spoonfuls. "come on, you've always loved to talk." he sneers, his voice taunting, as if recalling all the times you've teased him, secretly aching for him. "you had such good manners in front of your daddy earlier, didn't you? so where's that pretty please? say pretty please, Joel, please fuck me on my daddy’s washing machine." he adds, thumb pressing down slightly harder on your clit. a strangled noise escaped your throat, your eyes wrenching shut. “say you want me to use you.”

"fuck- pretty please- J-Joel, please use me-“ you whimper, giving up as he hums at your words. a squeeze on your throat.

“y’gonna knock it off with the desperate teasing?” he asks sharply, holding you towards his mouth. you swallow, trying to hide your grin at the wall and hoping Joel can’t see it.

“yes, Joel, just please, please fuck me.” you submit to his request, throbbing with desire.

you feel his chest as he leans over you, breath against your spine. "begging your dad's best friend to fuck you? you’re so dirty, baby. you should be ashamed." he tuts, kissing your spine in a feather-light touch as his other hand slides your panties to the side, your arousal already dripping down your legs. 

your cheeks flush as you nod wordlessly, wiggling your hips slightly, cunt aching for him. 

he doesn't make you wait any longer; his cock is thick and heavy as he pulls himself out of his jeans, running his shaft through your molten heat.

your gasp is strangled as his tip nudges your clit, a groan from his lips rumbling and low as you hold your breath in anticipation. he rocks his hips again and your legs soon tense up, cold against the washer as your hands grip the sides, "hurry, please." your voice is breathless and cracked as you ask it, exhausted and driven wild from his teasing. "need it so bad.“ you whimper breathlessly. 

he has the audacity to chuckle lightly, his thickness spreading your juices and notching just at your entrance before sliding past in tease. your nails scrape the metal as your eyes clench shut - he's so big; a flood of nerves rolls over you. 

"i know you do, sweetheart.” he mutters; you almost consider slapping him, but then you're sharply inhaling at the sudden sensation of his spit, dripping down onto your pulsing, aching heat. you can't help the moan at the feeling; there's a moment where Joel's hand caresses your cheek gently and you can't help but lean into his warm skin, keening at the touch, until it slides over your mouth and you realize he's muffling you.

and then he pushes forwards, breaching your tight, hot cunt. 

and you’re gasping. simultaneously, you suck in breaths at the sensation, his own groan so low it may be a growl. 

your brows pinch together at the tight fit; he's so big and you're tight with desire as he slowly inches himself inside, relishing in the agonizing pleasure of him nearly splitting you open. "Joel," you whimper, voice completely muffled by his tight hold on your mouth. 

he whispers hot against the shell of your ear, "you better be quiet." 

his voice sends a flood of arousal through you, coaxing his cock further into you, enveloping him into your warmth as his cock presses against the spongy part of you that has your back arching in a gasp. and then he's dragging himself slowly out of you, thrusting back in deep and slow. 

he lets out a shuttering breath into your collarbone as your nails dig into metal. you squirm at how deep he is; sweat lines your brow as your body is forced against the machine, barely able to accommodate his size. you let out a breathless, broken whine into his palm at the feeling, his length nearly splitting you, the sounds of your arousal slicking him and coating you both as he starts to thrust with a deep pace.

he holds you hard against the machine, ensuring you can't buck your hips, the other hand sliding to your neck, keeping just where he wants you at the angle that has both your eyes nearly rolling back. 

he growls as he starts to fuck into you hard and rough, the washer shaking with his thrusts. "take me, that's right." he grunts - the sentence sends your toes curling in pleasure. "fuck-" he grunts, "dirty slut, letting me fuck you right here- practically begging me all night-" 

the vibrations from the washing machine send tremors of pleasure through you and with wide eyes, you can feel your orgasm growing quickly. you can't help the gasps as Joel hits the spot in you that has tears brimming at the edge of your vision. 

"you close already, sweetheart?" he taunts, hand grabbing both your wrists to pin them against your back. you can't move as he pumps into you, the machine hitting the wall as the fire writhes in your abdomen. 

you nod, tears almost spilling in pleasure. the vibrations are bringing you so close to the edge as he hits the spongy spot inside you that nearly makes you scream; he chuckles darkly. "you need a little more, baby?" 

you nod, wailing gently against him as you try to move against him, toes leaving the ground as he fucks you into the machine. "you wanna cum, hm?" 

you nod furiously, yelping, "yes!" through his muffling. 

you feel a familiar warm feeling in your abdomen after a several deep thrusts and you moan out as he lifts your leg slightly up, hitting a new angle that nearly sends you over the edge. "fuck." he hisses.

his hands grip your wrists tight, "you know how t'touch your clit, don't you, baby?" he asks. you nod, looking towards the wall as you can't crane your neck further to see him. he doesn't let up on his thrusts, even as you glare at the wall, nodding with a whimper. 

"why don't you touch yourself, then?" he asks, teasing with a dark lilt in his voice that sends thrills through your body. you flutter and clench at his condescending tone, his hand pinning your wrists back as you struggle to move your hand to where you most need it. 

"c'mon, sweetheart, try harder. work for it." 

a tear falls onto the washing machine as he thrusts deep, hard. he hums low, leaning over and hitting a new angle, lips against your neck. "you gonna stop slutting yourself out? an’ stop callin' me a pervert when you throw yourself at me?" he asks, taunting. you groan, nodding enough that your neck hurts as you keen your back towards him, on a desperate edge of something brilliant. 

he hums, "'kay, baby. touch yourself. want you to cum on my cock." 

your hands are released and frantically your fingers find your sensitive clit, yelping as he presses his hand harder to your mouth. the feeling is blinding. 

your cunt flutters as you hit your high not two thrusts later, your whole body tense. you let out a long, loud whine of his name as you nearly short circuit. 

 “f-fucking tight-" he grunts, his own thrusts sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, already moving on from yours as you go limp with pleasure in his grasp. 

overstimulation sends your legs quivering as he grips you tighter, fucking into your throbbing heat. your cunt, still sensitive and contracting, drives Joel crazy - though you tense as you hear a familiar voice calling out Joel's name from the patio. 

your eyes widen, but Joel doesn't stop - not when your dad yells his name louder, as if he's entered the kitchen. 

and, to your horror, your dad calls out for Joel, asking if he's seen you. 

 you don’t miss the coincidence of your dad yelling into the house in search of you while his best friend cums inside you. a groan quiet in your ear as Joel suddenly stills deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, both your breaths heavy. he rocks into you, shaking breath as your father once again calls for him. 

when Joel pulls out of you, he caresses your spine, releasing your mouth. you suck in a breath, shuttering when his thumb slides over your ruined cunt, thumbing his cum back inside you gently, lowly groaning. 

you don't say anything, too shocked to speak as he pulls your panties back over you, dragging your dress over your ass.

releasing you from his grip, he hums into your ear, "now you’ll quit your fuckin' teasing, you hear me?" 

and then, within seconds, you hear him returning outside, calling back your dad's name while you try to stand upright on shaky legs. 

shit.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @scarletthefierce @

message me if i forgot to tag u. requests are open.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

[hoseoksluna]

WINE | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader

genre: smut

word count: 4.7k

summary: both of you have a party to go to, but jungkook makes you needy again.

playlist: it's jeon time / pinterest board: wine

warnings: forced drinking, neck kissing, dom/sub dynamics, use of pet names and one particular title <3, degradation and praise, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), sensual dancing, dirty talk, spanking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, squirting, rough sex, plushie used during intercourse, hair pulling, jungkook needing to be in control, the importance of dom/sub role-play being just a role-play and not extending past the sex practice, aftercare

note: this was meant to be a fluff fic with jimin but then jungkook x calvin klein happened and i was fucked. my libido was awakened by that man, my ovulation triggered by his seductiveness and fucking godly beauty. this might be tmi, but i genuinely felt turned on while writing this, so i hope you enjoy. my bestie who always reads my work first said that my jungkook fics are vastly different from the ones with other members, and i agree. the sole reason behind it is the simple fact that jungkook owns my sexuality. so, yeah. please, show some love in the comments. happy reading!!

side note: HAPPY BDAY HOBI ᡣ𐭩

“A bit tipsy, aren’t we?”

You’re twirling. Twirling in golden circles as the late afternoon sunset traces the curves of your figure with its fingers, giving willingly a brisk dose of vigor to the movement as your delicately tousled curls spin around you. The warm light hits the shimmer on the highest points of your cheeks—coalesces with the glitter and you smile at the sun, fluttering your eyes shut. The ardent giggle spilling out of the mouth of your close friend is the music you dance to, and it helps your smile to grow in width.

You have somewhere to be. Both of you do. But you deem this is more important—it is your pregame after all, even though the wine glass in your hand is empty. Small drops of the white nectar make traces on the parquet floor, leaving behind the evidence of your joy, light as a feather somewhere within you. 

Freshly showered, Jungkook watches the show you put on for him. With one shoulder, he leans against the large wardrobe and rolls his sleeves upwards on his forearms, wrists adorned with golden bracelets that tinkle with each effort. He does it slowly, blindly. Prefers to focus on you, and not on the task he’s done too many times. You face him, aware of his warm gaze, and you lean your glass towards his chest, tilting your head to the side. 

“Barely,” you say. “Had one glass. Have another one with me?”

Jungkook smiles fondly, dropping his eyes to his wrists as he fixes the stacking of the thick gold. The cherry wood accentuates his countenance in a way that magnetically pulls you closer to him. Your legs act on their own, feet making their way to his. Something about the way they are shod in shiny dress shoes and yours are bare, toenails painted in cotton candy pink, drives a certain scarlet hue to go mad upon your dew-kissed face. Or maybe it’s the fact you two fucked hardly an hour ago that does it. You’ve always liked the scene, in which you’re naked and he’s fully dressed. Or it’s your ever persistent daddy issues and your obsession with Lolita. Maybe it’s a mixture of both.

You notice a ring on his pinky finger as he sweeps his ebony hair back. It wasn’t there when he had those digits wrapped around your throat in missionary. You take his inked hand to get a closer look, noticing the engraving of his last name. His father must have the same one. You caress it with your thumb. Its yellow gleam seeps into your skin—illuminates you and envelops you in its aura, fixing a heavenly halo above your head. You find yourself smiling when you look up at him and find that he’s been gazing down at you the whole time, his very own angel.

“If I were to have a glass of wine with you,” he mutters, and the mischievous twinkle that appears in his eyes excites you in a way that angels shouldn’t be provoked. “Then, there would be no party to go to.”

You know what he means, but you play dumb. You want to hear him say it.

“How so?” you ask and you widen your eyes softly to appear more alluring. You’re not sure if your body would handle another round, but you do enjoy the teasing—you enjoy the talk, the chase, the fuzzy feelings in your tummy.

Jungkook straightens and reaches for the bottle on the coffee table four steps away from you. Sinks the body of the glass onto his palm, pouring a good amount of the liquid inside. Nibbles his bottom lip as he stalks towards you, handing you the nectar, although he doesn’t let go. Your fingers wrap around his and it’s him who does the first move—lifting his arm to tilt the glass to your mouth. He’s gentle, a safe distance away to watch his whimsy unfold, but firm. He doesn’t lower his hand until the spillage of the gilded liquid trickles down your throat. Only then does he chuckle, setting the glass down. Satisfied.

Dizziness stirs your mind and you hardly have time to take a breather before Jungkook latches his mouth onto your wine-stained neck, tongue coming out to play—cleaning you up in figure eights that cause you to roll your eyes back. The ends of your curls tickle the back of his hand as he brushes his fingers along the dip of your spine, the skin bare in the open back of your knitted dress—made perfect for his sly touches.

He doesn’t press you against his body when he begins to suck on your neck; he still keeps the distance. Perhaps to make you needy, perhaps to make you ask for more. And it’s working, the magnetic pull does its thing once more and you roll your chest against his, aching to fit in the spaces of his figure that you know full well are there for you to hide in. Your nipples perk up at the slight attention, and electrifying sparks glide down the perimeters of your form in a way that you wish his hands would.

Absentmindedly, you touch them and Jungkook notices as he switches to the other side of your neck, the more sensitive one, the one that always leaves you dripping with your essence. You let him know, vocally, how much you like him there, and the sounds of pleasure you utter into his ear force him to pull out his phone from his pocket, steal your hand from your breast and place it in your palm.

He withdraws with a pop, plump lips coming to trace the shell of your ear. “I think we need some music,” he whispers, fingers skimming the curve of your ass. “Can you play some? Can you do that for me?”

Oh, that degradation kink of his. He knows he flung you out of his world into a pretty pink planet somewhere out there in the universe with that skilled tongue of his. He knows how dumb you get when horniness flushes your body with heat—he knows it intimately, for he’s the one who fucks you, the one you give yourself to when you blossom with the need to do so. He’s the one who opens the petals one by one, never to tear them, but to smell them, kiss them, hover them over the tender skin of his face just to be close to you. He knows you and he knows how to play with you just how you like it.

And you like to get into this state of mind. You like to be degraded, even though you’ll never admit it. You particularly like to get degraded by Jungkook.

Because of that reason, he likes to awaken it in you, beckon it to come out. How he found out is beyond your understanding. You reckon he sensed it while having your orgasms in his control. Somewhere in that dynamic, he found a little nook of a library and its contents fell into his grasp when he sank his fingers inside of you. All he had to do was read. And, also, listen.

Your bodily and vocal reactions didn’t protest.

You can’t even see his lockscreen, the numbers as you type in his mother’s birthday because Jungkook begins to toy with your earlobe, nibbling at the flesh ever so slightly. The pleasure, the wine getting into your head—it’s all suddenly too much. Paradoxically, you find the app somehow without looking out of a habit you learned throughout the months you’ve been casually seeing him, for Jungkook never fucks without his ‘It’s Jeon Time’ sex playlist. And he always wants you to pick out the first song. 

It impacts what he does to you later.

You scroll and you tap on a random song.

No BS by Chris Brown.

You return the phone and Jungkook begins to pepper soft kisses on your throat, pocketing the device. A sudden throbbing on your bundle of nerves makes you tenderly whine and in your head, you curse him out for making you needy again. He pretends not to hear you, making a way to your chin. He kisses it. Ghosts his lips over yours, puckers them to tease you and hums in appreciation for the song. You grab him everywhere you can. Hair, neck, shoulders. Squeezing. As if he hadn’t fucked the soul out of you earlier. As if you weren’t spent. And he just laughs.

No matter how soft the sound is, it forces all of the peach fuzz on your body to rise.

Oh, you’ve made him horny. You’re fucked.

No party for you.

“Good little girl,” he coos, grabbing your ass and pulling you flush to his body. The praise before the degradation—the calm before the storm. “Can always expect the best from you. You never fail to please me.”

His hardness greets you first, pressed torturously against your mound. You mewl at the feeling, but he silences you. His lips are second to say a playful hello as they delve into a firm kiss, hand grasping your hair in his fist. He inhales against you and before the two of you know it, you’re moving your bodies to the slow, sensual rhythm of the song. Jungkook kisses you again, parts your lips with his and slips his tongue inside. 

Just to taste you, briefly.

He spins you around. 

Towering over you, he wraps his arms around your middle and sways with you, pushing your hair to one side, so he can focus on your neck once more. Gliding his lips up and down your neck, nose nuzzling into the safe space there near your ear, he inhales again, your scent being the translucent ship that gets him to heavenly places he dreams of every now and then. He guides you with his hips, needing to be in control of everything, even of something as insignificant as a simple, intimate dance. You love it, you could never get enough of it. The stability being the foundation that holds it is what attracts you to it, the stability that you never had, the one that your inner child deserves. 

Palms flat on your tummy, Jungkook drifts them down and stops at your hips, fingers reaching your mound. 

“Those hips will be the death of me,” he murmurs, caressing your sides while continuing guiding you, pressing you just right against his prominent length. “Did you really expect me not to get hard seeing you dance like that?” 

You bite your lip, furrowing your eyebrows, rotating your hips to the chorus of the song, head empty. 

Jungkook grunts. The sound intoxicates you even more.

“My princess doesn’t really know what she’s doing to me, does she?” He hooks his fingers under the hem of your dress. “Too horny, too needy to think, hm?”

Shamelessly, you nod. “Want you again. Want to feel you inside of me.” 

Jungkook hums, then breaks into a gentle laughter. Lifts your garment and lets his fingers roam on your clothed folds, the white fabric drenched in your dewiness—pellucid enough to show the beauty of your flesh. 

Aware of how wet you are, he clicks his tongue. “You filthy girl, how many times do I have to fuck you in order for you to have enough?”

You grow silent. Brimming with a woozy desire, you opt to grind your ass against him again. Your brain cannot come up with any smart answer that would please him, so this is the best you could do. Jungkook curses under his breath, leans back to watch you. He meets each and every movement of your hips and completes them, creating waves that spur the butterflies in your belly to life. 

“Filthy”—He spanks you—“Fucking”—Another spank—“Girl.”

Knees bent, Jungkook grinds against your core, cutting short your hissing. He turns you around and bends you against the wardrobe, places your hands flat on the cherry wood. Takes off your panties swiftly and lets them pool by your ankles. Spanks you below your ass cheek, moaning at the lift and ripple of your plumpness. Does it again on the other one, letting out a sound that makes your dewiness, similarly like the wine down the sides of your neck, leak and stick to your inner thighs. Something between a dark chuckle, a moan and a purr of endearment. 

“What am I to do with such a greedy girl like you?” he says, fingers tracing each curve of your ass to etch the memory of it deeper into his brain. “You deserve to be fucked like this. Mercilessly, for my pleasure. Like the little slut you are. But I’ll be good to you.” 

He pushes your left inner thigh, guiding you to spread your legs. Cups your pussy, digits spreading your essence all over you. 

“I’ll be good to you because you just can’t help it, can you? Poor little baby is just a slut for this cock.”

You mewl at his words, but then you discover that he didn’t lubricate your cunt for you, but for himself.

You yelp when you feel his tongue right there on the softness of your inner thigh, licking up a stripe to drink you. You didn’t expect him to do it so quickly and your whines increase in volume when Jungkook buries his head in your pussy, the deft muscle swirling around your pulsating bundle, licking between your folds and teasing around your hole. You push your hips back, wanting him there more than ever, but he spanks you, bites your flesh before he soothes the pain with his kisses. Big kisses as he calls them, the ones with full tongue. The nasty, the dirty. Big kisses for big girls with experience—those he teaches. 

Jungkook stands up and wraps his fingers around your jawline, holding you like that as he draws closer to your ear. 

“Looks like you can’t go out with your little pussy wet like that and those pretty panties soiled like they are, can you?” He turns your head so you look at him and you let him see your star-filled eyes, damp with the cosmos. “What would they think of you?”

“Koo,” you cry out.

He purrs in mock sympathy. “I left you alone for what, half an hour? And your pussy is needy again. That’s not right, is it? You should stop and think about this. Daddy’s not fixing it for you.” 

As if he hadn’t spoken a word, he sinks his fingers inside of you. Middle and ring. Jackhammers them until you scream, then he pulls them out and spanks your pussy once, twice. With all four of his digits, he rubs the entirety of your femininity, sloppily and rapidly, the drops of your essence joining the company of the drying wine on the parquet floor. You’re seeing white, your orgasm inches away from you.

“Jungkook, please, don’t stop—” Your mouth rounds, voice breaks into a moan. “I’m gonna come, please, please—” 

He withdraws his fingers. Entire body, too. Like a starved animal, head tipped low, he stares you down. 

You struggle to catch your breath, swallowing dryly, leaning your head against your forearms.

“You said—you said you’d be good to me,” you croak out, throat dry, eyes lidding, mind absolutely fucked out. 

“I am.” 

The meaning of his words eludes you, but you soon forget about thinking when he licks his fingers clean. Wraps those pretty, puffy pillows around his slender fingers and sucks them. Then, he undoes the few buttons left of his ebony shirt, slowly and precisely. You clench around nothing, walls pressing together tightly. You’d slip a finger inside if you weren’t holding the side of the wardrobe for dear life.

“Get on the bed, now,” he orders. “Leave the dress on. Panties, too. I’ll show everyone how much of a little slut you are.” 

Without a second thought, you do as he says. 

You sit down on the edge of the bed and spread your legs as wide for him as the undergarment enfolding your thighs allows you, the ivory material pulled taut—your dewiness on show. Jungkook walks into the room like he has all the time in the world, like you aren’t gripping the flesh of your sides in order not to touch yourself. His shirt is fully unbuttoned now and the fabric lets you see a slither of his defined abdomen and fine black pubic hair peeking out of his Calvins due to how low his slacks are fixed on his hips. You lick your lips, dig half-moons into your skin until your knuckles turn white.

You need him. You need him so much that tears pool within the cosmos of your eyes.

“If only they were to see you right now,” he mutters. “So desperate for me. It’s too bad only I get to see you like this, isn’t it?” 

He worsens your desire with that mouth of his. It’s extreme. You scratch your nails down your thighs to relieve yourself at least a little bit. 

Fists on each side of you, Jungkook leans towards you. His simple gold chain swings in your face and you bite your lip to keep your needy mewls at bay.

“Am I talking to myself?” 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Did you forget how to talk?” He cocks his eyebrow. 

“I need you so bad. I can’t take it anymore,” you whine out, the best your brain could muster.

Jungkook puckers his lips at you in feigned sympathy again and you expect the worst to come out of his mouth, but he surprises you when he says, “what do you want me to do to you?”

You gasp almost soundlessly. Your heart skips in your chest happily. Fire of the starlight shines in your eyes and a brand new flush finds its way to your cheeks, hotter than the one from earlier when you were dancing with the sun. Before you can think you answer through, it slips out of you.

“Lick my pussy, please.” 

Jungkook smirks and the blush of roses smears across his cheeks and nose as well. He wipes at his mouth as if your answer made him drool—cuts the anticipation and kneels down at the bed, pushing your legs back. 

“Who am I to deny you?” 

The butterflies within your tummy go berserk. 

Tongue flat, he licks up your cunt. Over and over, lapping up your wetness, moaning, seizing your girlishness and rolling it over in his mouth. You tip your head back between your shoulder blades and your arms begin to shake, holding all of your weight. Like you were previously grinding against him, you do the same movement now into his face. Recreate the waves as he rides his tongue against your clit. 

He stops when you catch his gaze.

You cry out for him, bucking your hips. He shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours. His puffy lips glint in the dimmed light, the sun rays seconds away from saying their final goodbye.

“Needy little whore.”

Jungkook flicks at your little seashell, wraps those pillows around the muscle out of habit, but decides against it. Denies you the pleasure, knows too well you come too quickly from the suction. Decides to flutter his tongue instead, the pressure light, making you tremble like a butterfly wing. Retracts. Starts the torture again, alternating between light and hard. Fucks with your brain. Fucks with you.

“This feels too good, Daddy, oh my god.” 

You watch him at work, mouth parted open, sounds of gratification coming out freely. He’s never done this to you before. It’s new, it’s different and it feels otherworldly; it feels like he’s transporting you back to pink planet again. The faint pleasure, the build up, the hard intensity at last before he starts again. He pins your hips down to prevent you from getting ahead, lidded eyes zeroing on yours, and the cord in your belly tightens. You near to the edge, gusts of gasps and ragged breaths flowing out of your mouth. 

“I’m coming, Daddy, I’m coming, oh fuck.” 

The harsh light of stars comes down slowly upon your eyesight. You’re almost there. You roll your hips to meet his tongue one last time, despite the deathly grip he has on your hip bones, but he lifts his head. Rips the orgasm away from you.

“No.” He wipes his mouth with his hand.

Your vision blurs and frustration burns you hot.

“What?”

“You’re not coming.” 

You stare at him, eyelashes flittering. At loss for words.

“We have a party to go to, don’t we?” 

You scrunch up your eyebrows. You thought you weren’t going anywhere?

“And if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you come tonight.”

Your mouth falls open. 

“Close it before I fuck it.” 

He cups your chin, closing it for you. Wraps his fingers around your throat and pushes you back on the mattress. Your hair fans all around you and you hold your clothed breasts for emotional support, your brain not really registering that you’re getting fucked and that you’re not allowed to cum. You sob tearlessly at his cruelty, lifting your head to look at him. 

Jungkook unzips his slacks. Doesn’t bother to lower them, only pulls out his heavy length out of the tight confines of his boxers. His precum shines prettily on his mushroom and he spreads it all around him, jacking himself off, grunting, groaning, throwing his head back. All while being completely ignorant to your inner turmoil. 

“Look at what you’ve done to me,” he whispers, letting go of his cock to show you just how hard he is. 

Your head spins. His tip reaches his belly button and the thickness of his shaft obscures most of his pubic hair. You moan, aching to have him inside of you. Feel your slick trickle down onto the bedding. 

“So hot,” you say, lifting your eyes to catch him focused on the reactions painted on your face with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, chest heaving quickly. “You’re so beautiful.” 

Abruptly, Jungkook flops you onto your stomach. Crawls over you. Straddles you. Veiny forearms, partly shielded by the waterfall of your hair, come to stay on either side of your head. 

He reaches for the white bunny plushie resting against the pillows and hands him to you. Brushes your hair away from your face to whisper into your ear, “you better hold onto him.” 

You clutch him to your chest and bury your face in his soft fur. 

“Remember the rule?” he asks and you feel him drag the tip of his cock down the line of your ass—you feel him stop at your tight hole. 

Your breath shakes. “I can’t come.” 

Body reacting on its own, hips lifting, you allow him to glide down to your pussy.

Jungkook hums in appreciation. “That’s right. Look at you, so good for me already.” 

He chuckles darkly and you hate your life.

“You only know how to behave yourself when you want to come, don’t you? Such a slut.”

He punctuates his sentence by sheathing himself inside of you. You grip your plushie tight, groaning into his fur. He does it all in one go, not stopping once to let you adjust around him. He huffs against your hair, mocks your sound, eyelashes fluttering at your tightness, mouth agape. It’s otherworldly how he fits. It’s otherworldly how you can make out his expression, how you see it clearly behind your closed eyelids—how him mocking you and imitating you makes you drip even more, the lewdness of your juices encouraging him to go balls-deep. 

He rams into you. 

You scream into the bunny.

He rams into you in staccatos, the headboard of the bed colliding over and over again into the wall. Swift jerks. Hard. 

You feel so full.

“Slutty fucking pussy,” he whispers, gathers all of your hair into his fist and pulls your head back. Begins to fuck you evenly, picking up the pace. “So tight around Daddy, fuck.” 

You must be floating. Somewhere out there within that pink planet. All your surroundings are bleary, distorted, but so vibrant. Just as your hair is pulled back so are your wings retracted in the same way, held by your captor. You feel his lips at your temple, parted, breath hot and heavy. You can’t even hear yourself amidst your pleasure and his, but somehow—all of a sudden—you hear the voice of your favorite singer echoing in the living room.

Do I Wanna Know by the Arctic Monkeys. 

Little by little, you feel yourself returning back to planet Earth. Drool wets the corners of your mouth and you don’t have the strength to wipe it off, focusing all of your strength on stalling your orgasm, the voice of your beloved Alex pushing against you in a fight.

Jungkook lets go of your hair, but wraps the same arm around your shoulders, plushie and neck, his weight coming on top of yours. Continues to slam into you without any care of the world, heedless of the way you’re fighting for your life.

“If I’m not mistaken, this is your song, baby, isn’t it?” he breathes into your ear, slowing down his pace, hips rocking against you to the rhythm.

You sob at the mercy, the ferocity of your incoming orgasm dwindling away. 

That is until he starts pounding you into the mattress again. 

You scream out. White vision begins to chase you again, the cord tightening in your full lower tummy. 

“Jungkook, please, I can’t—I can’t—” 

He grunts at your helplessness, hand gripping your mouth. Pace so fast your head knocks back into his shoulder. 

“You can take it. It’s your song.” He squeezes your cheeks. Grinds his hips slowly. You roll your eyes back, feeling him nudge your cervix. 

He begins to kiss along your jawline, your earlobe, the contours of the shell. You do the same, peppering kisses upon his forearm as your position allows you. 

“We could be together, if you wanted to,” he huffs the lyrics into your ear, just for you to hear. 

The cord snaps. 

Wetness gushes out of you; a sweet stream of your dewiness forces him to pull out of you—and your wet orgasm triggers his. He paints your open back white with his hot spurts of cum, sealing you, completing you. Jacks himself off with one hand while the other rubs your pussy, spanking it. You’re squirming, screaming, the orgasm long and so intense that you don’t even know where you are. Jungkook fingers you with three digits and coaxes another surge out of you. Slacks destroyed, dress soiled, bodies spent—your screams silent. 

He caresses the roundness of your ass to calm you down. 

“Breathe for me, baby,” 

You try, but you can’t. 

Too exhausted. 

You feel him leave, but in a moment you sense the mattress dipping beside you. The coldness of wet wipes on your skin, getting rid of the evidence of his pleasure. The warmth of his thumb on the tear-stained skin under your eyes as he turns you to your side. 

A glass of cold water is in his hand. You suddenly feel parched. His touch brought your senses back to you. 

“Sit up.”

You finish the glass in gulps. Some of it leaks down your throat. Jungkook smirks. 

“Well done.”

You hug your plushie tighter. “I’m sorry for coming.” 

Jungkook caresses your hair. You’re sitting on your legs while he’s standing by the side of the bed. Running his fingers through your disheveled, ruined curls. 

“I fucked you that hard on purpose,” he murmurs, curling a strand of hair behind your ear, finger coming to a stop at the beginning of the line of your jaw. “It was my intention to make you come.” 

You lean into his touch. Kiss the edge of his palm. Drowsy, droopy eyes still bearing into his. 

“Like I said. You did well.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Arms up.”

He takes off your dress and slinks your arms through the sleeves of his black shirt that he had discarded while fucking you. Your eyelids are shut when he lays you down on the cold side of the bed, tucking you in, and you’re halfway through the footpath to your pink planet when he promises, “I’ll make it up to you about that party.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part two

[mntalbrakdown]

doin’ time - C. Fisher

masterlist!

mentions of: cussing, makeouts, smut… 18+ MDNI. fem receiving (fingering), cum play, piv unprotected (wrap b4 u tap)

synopsis: at the empty house party you play a quick game of cat and mouse with conrad

wc: 3.5k

a/n: i haven’t proofread this yet

gif from @thatonekimgirl

the purple pink and blue strobe lights that Conrad, Belly, and Jeremiah bought at Paty City made you look like you were glowing. the party was 70's theme and you were dressed in a lime green mini dress with gogo boots, you teased your hair to have a bump paired with a white headband. you had a graphic black liner and you felt beautiful. you were with Cam at the dj booth. you and Cam have always been close, you guys were touchy, but you never liked him, nor did he to you. in fact he told you about his feelings for Skye which you applauded to because you wanted him to be happy.

"can you guys play" Jumper the one who allowed Belly to buy the liquor started his sentence. which was cut off when Skye pointed at the "fuck the requests" sign they made

"sorry the sign speaks" you say sitting next to Cam at a random table

"but" Jumper continues

"respect the playlist" Cam cuts Jumper off with that he walks away from his attempt

"Steven curated this playlist with great intent" Skye says making it sound like a great medicine that could cure all diseases

"to make boys get bitches" you say jokingly which was true you saw four guys within 30 minutes pull a girl upstairs

"rest in peace to their backs" Cam jokes since there were no beds in the house to have sex comfortably with

"so how are you and Conrad" Skye asks you

"what do you mean" it was out of the blue, you didn't know what they were talking about

"y/n you can't be that clueless" Cam pokes at you making you squirm

"i seriously don't know what your guys' game is right now" you say searching their eyes

"he so very obviously likes you" Skye says

"you have some nerve Skye" you say mocking them since they are also in a similar situation with Cam

"what does that mean" Cam asks

"nothing" Skye and you say in unison

"all im saying is that man is smitten with you" Skye says making Cam nod his head in agreement

"yeah right since when" you say taking a sip from your coke

"since you and I got close last summer, he got really stiff and would clench his jaw when we would hold each others hand or even when i had my hand around your waist, his whole mood would switch" Cam says pointing all the times Conrad has been tense

"all those times Belly would walk into the room" you rebuttal Cam’s so very wrong analysis.

"ehhh wrong" both Cam and Skye said in the same time making you laugh at how alike they are

"i've ran tests and experiments, that man always sits next to you and looks for your vote in a decision," Skye says

"fuck you both" you say flipping them off

"time and place" Cam says at lightning speed

"i don't want to get scoliosis" you mock the previous joke you said before

"don't think that's how it works" Skye retorts but nonetheless they laughed as well

"hey y/n let's get a picture" Steven says pulling you away from the two others as Conrad was hiding behind him

"yeah sure" you say hopping off the table saying you'll be right back to the others

as you were following the two boys through the groups of sweaty highlighter bodies you were almost lost and by each step the gap between you and Conrad grew bigger. he looked right behind and saw what was happening. he extended his hand out so the gap would close and you grabbed on. you walked until you were at the bottoms steps of the staircase. surprisingly there was nobody there

"ok stand right there" Steven says as he was looking through the polaroid lens

"did you set this up" you whisper in Conrad's ears as you tiptoe

"no" he says flustered

"he's lying" Steven says making you shocked by his good hearing

"good" you say as you smile wide for the camera as you try your hardest to give Conrad bunny ears. you wait for the flash but Steven takes his time. you could feel Conrad's eyes on you. as well as his arm snake around your waist. were they right? did Conrad really like you? as you get out of your own head you finally get the bright white flash from the camera making this go by faster

"let me see" Conrad says as if he was out of his spell and going over to Steven to see the photo, but the thing about Polaroids is that you have to wait a moment to see the photo develop

"stay with me" Conrad says grabbing you by the waist to take you to the bottom of the stairs and sit

"ok" it wasn't like he asked you to stay it was a demand and you weren't mad about it

"I'm going to find Taylor" Steven says as he walks away

"wear a condom" you scream

"fuck off" Steven screams back

"so how are you and Cam" Conrad asks through gritted teeth

"he's good, going to see if Skye already asks him out" you say trying to slide the fact that you and Cam aren't dating

"oh, I thought you two were a thing" Conrad says trying his hardest to bite back his smile

"no, we're just really close" you say meeting his blue eyes that were now dark with a glint in his eye

"cool" he says not knowing what else to say

"cooool" you say not knowing how to carry the conversation

"yeah" was the only thing muttered from Conrad

"why cool" you say trying to see his thought process

"cool in the fact i spent all of last summer wasting my time with Nicole, no offense to her she's cool, just wanted to talk to you" he says searching your eyes to see if he struck a nerve

"you're cute, dumb and oblivious, but cute" you say as your hand goes to his hair and push it to his ear, making him almost pur to your touch

"i'm the oblivious one" he says in a confused and questionable way

"yes, I'm the one talking to you" you say in the same tone

"you clearly never looked my way" he says pointing at your chest

"bullshit" you say leaning against the railing

"everyone else picked up on it" Conrad says

"ok fine, i was the oblivious one" you say surrounding "give me the photo" you say as enough time has passed so it would be devloped

"what would you give me if i do" Conrad whispered lustfully which caught you off guard

"pfft nothing" you says as you extend your arm to get the photo from his other side

"than no" he says grabbing the photo and extending his arm backwards so you couldn't reach it

"fuck your long arms" you say climbing over his lap and trying to grab the photo which made your boobs hit his face making him kiss them "oh shit my bad" you say retracting back to your previous seat

"no" Conrad says wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you on his lap

"oh" you say as you see Conrad lean in for a kiss and you go in, letting all your muscles relax and allow you to really enjoy this kiss, both your hands on each side of Conrad's face as his are trained on your waist and tangled in your hair

"i really like you" he says pulling away from the kiss to look up at your face seeing how swollen your lips have already gotten

"good, because i like you too" you say smiling at the fact some of your pink lipgloss got on his lips "let me see the photo" you says looking deep into Conrad's eyes as he hands the photo to you

it was you the highest you could possibly go on your tiptoes to give Conrad the bunny ears, but even than you could barely see your fingers. your face was looking straight at the camera with the most derpiest smile you could plaster on. he on the other hand was looking deep into you, he wanted to savor the moment of how you looked while someone takes a picture of you, no one ever does that, their main priority was to look at the lens. and even now as you look deep into the photo and analyze it. Conrad is looking at you seeing how you take something as small as a picture and critique it

"why are you looking at me in this" you say flipping the photo to him

"i don't know" he says, but he was obvlously lying, you could tell he was lying when he says those three words

"you're a liar" you say as you go in for a quick kiss which makes Conrad excited, but you quickly pull away

"booo" he says like a seven year

"not until you tell me the truth" you say looking deep into his eyes as he eyes your lips to make sure he catches everything over the loud music and also because he wants to continue kissing you

"i never get to be that close to you and i really liked you and thought you were dating Cam so I had to take advantage of my time with you" he blurts everything out ready to kiss you again

"awe" you say clapping both of your hands to your face making Conrad pull you into a kiss by grabbing you by the back of your head

"get a fucking room" Jeremiah says to the both of you

"we'll take yours asshole" Conrad says jokingly

"ewww gross" he says walking down the hall

"do you want to" Conrad says trying not to push anything, but he did really want you, but he wouldn't say anything because he didn't want to sway your vote

"umm sure" you say putting a piece of hair behind your ear

“here follow me” Conrad says as he carrie’s you off his lap so you could stand and than he got up.

he grabbed your hand in his and led you up the stairs. you were close with Belly so you knew enough about the house layout. but it was all empty now so it felt odd and anything but a home. it was just a house now. his room was empty. you tried to picture having a good comfortable time but you couldn’t. he could see the expression all written on your face.

“we could use a floaty” he says scratching the back of his head

“and pop it” you laugh thinking of the idea of doing it only to pop it in the middle of it

“i want it to be nice” he says trying not to have just a hookup. he really liked you. he wanted this night to be special. he finally got his girl

“it could be nice another day, hooking up at a party is already so unclassy” you say pulling him for a kiss

“ok but than where” he says in between your kiss

“what about the bathroom” it was the only place that could be remotely nice

“ok follow me” he says kissing you once last time on your gore head, lips, and lastly neck

Conrad grabbed your hand and took you down the hall to the bathroom. surprising it wasn’t busy. when you opened the door Conrad immediately locked the door. after he instantly cornered you at a wall so you couldn’t leave him. which you weren’t planning on it either way

“hey” Conrad said leaning his forehead on yours

“hi” you say leaning in to kiss him. leaned in for a kiss. it was deep and passionate. you felt yourself relax. your shoulders fell down as your hands followed his face to his jaw and let them stay there. as Conrad was deepening the kiss you let out a slight moan. it was music to Conrad’s ears. he wanted to hear more. he was hungry to hear more.

“i need you” Conrad pulls away from you with blissed out eyes

“fuck- me too” you say as Conrad picks you up and sits you at the sink

he lifted your dress up to reveal your dark red laced thong. he felt himself snap. he needed you. he needed to be inside you.

as he pulled the thong all the way down. “god you’re so wet” he puts the red lace in his pocket for ‘safe keeping’

he licked his two fingers as lubricant and started to finger you. you followed his fingers as they disappeared and reappeared. sucking on your bottom lip to not draw attention to the bathroom. even though no one could hear you over the loud music.

“look at me when i’m fucking you” Conrad demanded. he wanted to see how your face contoured at his actions. making him feel good inside

if he could he would do this to you all day. he’s been dreaming about this ever since he could remember. he continued with his action. adding fingers as he goes. as he did you gasped into his forearm almost drawing blood with your red nails. Conrad was circling your clit with his other hand to speed the processes up. he needed you.

“Conrad” you whispered lowly and it snapped. Conrad and you. with the white liquid falling down his hand.

“god i need you” as he licks his fingers clean and leaning down to kiss you, tasting yourself

“you’re all i need” you say with fucked out eyes

Conrad unbuttoned his pants, dropping everything with it. making you take his shirt off. leaving him exposed. you opened your legs wider for him.

“fuck” Conrad leans in to kiss you biting your bottom lip as he pulls away “i don’t have a condom” he says flatly

“it’s fine, i’m on the pill” you say as you get the cum spilling from you and rubbing it on Conrad to lubricat him.

“i need to feel you” Conrad says desperately as he pushes inside you. kissing you to hide your moans.

he was huge. you don’t know what you were expecting but he was stretching you in the best way possible. the whole time knowing Conrad you never ever thought about his size. as he entered inside you, you leaned against the mirror and exposing your neck. moaning loudly to the way Conrad is making you feel giving him a confidence boost. as he continued his actions you would look down because you liked the view and every time Conrad lifted your head to see him. and when he did you moaned because he was the one fucking your cunt.

“let me hear you” Conrad whispered in your ear

“fuck Connie” you say grabbing Conrad and making out with him

something about you being fucked in retro clothes. and how Conrad liked the dress because he could see your boobs which allowed him to leave hickeys down your chest as a manrepelent. that he is the one for you and only you. you tugged on his hair to make him moan, which led to him kissing you deeply, hitting a new spot

“y/n you need to take a picture with me and Taylor” Belly says loudly through the door

“mm- yeah on it just doing some-e touch ups” you struggle to speak because Conrad just kept going deeper and circling your clit trying to make you mess up

as you heard the steps walk away you let out a loud moan which you weren’t expecting. the white substance running down your legs as Conrad just looks amazed at you.

“that was so hot” Conrad says hiding his face into your neck leaving new hickeys to decorate your body in the morning “turn around” Conrad demanded

“but-“

“please it’ll be quick”

and so you did. you didn’t know why but you trusted him with everything you had inside of you. maybe because you knew him amongst all your life, but either way he was making you feel so good today.

he turned you around so your face was looking at the mirror. it was fogged up from the steam coming from the both of you. Conrad aligned himself again going deeper and faster keeping the same pace he liked how your face would come close to the mirror almost hitting it. your eyes were watering and you were trying not to let them stream and ruin your makeup, but he just kept going

your hair was all sorts of tangled. your eyeliner and masacra running and your lipstick was smudged. your boobs were spilling out from the top of the dress as Conrad kept pounding inside of you.

“you look so fucking hot” Conrad says looking at you from the mirror

“yeah” you say half moan half question

“fuck yeah” Conrad affirmed

“take a picture” you say grabbing his phone from the counter and putting it on selfie mode. letting both you and Conrad in the photo as you but your lip and he concentrates on making you feel good

“fuck that was hot” he says as you put it in his hidden photos

you would look at his face from the mirror he was so focused on pleasuring you. and than another moment he would make eye contact with you through the mirror. his naked body heaving from the lost of air.

he leaned down to where your ear was nibbling at it and licking it to add more stimulus and make you come which was successful. you grasped into the sink so hard that you thought you would break it and moaned so loud that Conrad made you face him and kiss him to suppress the noise. because even though he liked hearing you, that was loud enough to hear over the music and didn’t want to stop the fun

“Conrad-” you say clenching on Conrad’s shaft

your stomach was tightening for the third time this night. you felt your body come to a stop, everything inside you started to tighten. you were sure your mascara was running

Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you ramble. He speeds his movements, knowing you’re close

“You’re so beautiful.” he thought. The way your head is titled back, your mouth wide open. He loves the way your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure. He couldn’t help but smile, not being able to stop admiring you.

He watches your face as you unravel, feeling him come close behind. “Ohmygod, fuck. Conrad, please,” you begin to pull away from him and look forward, the overstimulation almost painful. you came so hard tipping Conrad over the edge and following behind.

as he pulls out you felt the cold air hit you and you arched your back, Conrad looks at the sight and wishes he could take a picture. he uses his fingers to push the cum in.

“what are you doing” you ask standing straight but losing your balance

“i want you to walk around with my cum inside you” Conrad says leaning in to kiss you

“you’re so annoying” you say turning around to the fogged you mirror and cleaning it with your hand. fixing your eyes and smudged lips.

“i’m keeping these” Conrad pulls your underwear from his pocket

“no!” you yelp running to grab them but breaking your ankles

“did i do i that” Conrad asks at your lose of walking skills

“shut up” you say walking slowly to the door and walking away struggling

“two new photos today” he says referring back to the polaroid and the explicit version

“only for you” you say fixing your dress down your body as you take your shoes off to be able to walk a little better

“what now” Conrad asked

“i’m tired let me lay with you” you say wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss you

“ok” he says with a polite smile

you didn’t really understand how he could destroy you one moment and than the nicest person in the world. a person who would want to give you the world. and you enjoyed it. it kept you on your toes.

you quickly run to his room to make sure one one else could see your state of fucked up appearance. but your plan failed as Conrad quickly swooped you taking you in for a quick kiss making you smile.

“i have some extra clothes if you want” he asks pulling them out to you

“ooo give me” you say changing quickly in the corner of his room

“you’re funny” he says laughing laying down on his blanket and pillow

“what why” you say putting the shirt over your head and walking back to him

“you were all about yourself a second ago and than now you’re all shy” he says poking you

“oh shut up” you say moving your body so your back faced him

“make me” he says towering over your face so he could be kissed by you

a/n: i take requests!

[preeningpisces]

Nanami NSFW Headcanons

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby fem!reader

Enjoy! 💙

☆ Starting controversial agaaaain, but like I said with Toji, I just don’t see him being a hard dom either. This man will never call you a whore, would be offended if you requested he call you a bitch or cumdump—I think he’d be okay with slut, but he wouldn’t say that unless you ask

☆ Very firm about his boundaries, he won’t do anything he doesn’t feel comfortable doing & you won’t be able to change his mind. Very respectful of yours & will never push them

☆ Lowkey loves to be praised & doted on. His ears turn very pink when you tell him how good he’s making you feel, or how big his cock is, or if you tell him his voice is sexy

☆ The fact you find his voice sexy confuses him—he thinks it’s too monotone, and he isn’t exactly the smoothest guy out there with his words. He’s not very talkative in general, and that extends to sex as well. Once you express how much it turns you on, however, he will dirty talk more, and more often as he builds confidence doing it (dirty talk is hard you guys, be patient with him!!!)

☆ Nanami is stiff, and awkward when your sexual relationship begins. He doesn’t have a ton of experience, and his stoic nature can make moments of passion challenging for him. If you’re more experienced, you’ll probably take the lead, and it’s something he’s very thankful for.

☆ If you’re less or equally experienced, he’ll take the lead. He’ll be honest about his own lack of experience, and the two of you will explore uncharted territory together—so sweet

☆ Even during the early stages when he’s awkward his intensity, observant nature, generosity, and thoroughness have an allure of their own

☆ He definitely warms up with time though, so don’t fret. Sex has never been at the forefront of his mind, so he discovers his kinks/preferences through your relationship

☆ As I said before, Nanami is a very generous lover; making you feel good makes him feel good. He’s the type that can come from eating you out, which is especially hot if he’s dressed in those formal clothes of his

☆ He loves toys, uses a vibrator on you almost everytime you have sex. Nanami is a very practical person; the vibrator makes you feel so good, and allows him to put more focus on other ways of pleasing you—why wouldn’t he use it? The notion that some men hate them bc they threaten their egos bewilders him

☆ Your vibrators are basically never dead because Nanami is on TOP of those things; he’s gotta make sure it’s ready for whenever the mood strikes you guys. The days you’re home and he’s at work you’ll occasionally get a ‘is the vibrator on the charger?’ text, reminding you like a parent would their kid about the chicken they’re supposed to thaw LMFAO

☆ Not a tease at all. If you say please he’s gonna do it!! If you tell him you want to be teased in the bedroom he’ll try his best but it doesn’t take much before he relents :/

☆ Breeding kink yes, but I just KNOW he’s a vasectomy man (unless yall decide to pop some kiddos out). He’s just too responsible to be risky, & doesn't want his partner to feel obliged to take on the responsibility of birth control all alone. Perfect man, truly

☆ Nanami loves some good ol’ fashioned missionary—who doesn’t? But he also really enjoys positions where he can just hold you close, and focus on the intimacy of the moment and the physical sensations rather than the visuals. Prone bone, and cuddlefucking are prime examples; when he rests his head in your neck, his free hand squeezing all your softness, he’s in heaven

☆ Nylons, pantyhose, stockings: wear them if you want to get destroyed. If you got thigh-highs that pinch your leg? Hoooooo boy. He’s not typically a biter, but the squishy parts hanging over the stocking will be gnawed on. Just accept they’ll be bruised, you’ll be ok

☆Nanami is very appreciative of lingerie, and does not tear it off, he’ll have you keep them on the whole time

☆ Huuuuge sucker for scents. Perfume, soap, laundry detergent—he appreciates good smells, and once he starts associating certain smells with you they get him going

[bunnys-kisses]

hello! i stumbled upon your blog and i must admit i LOVE the bakery theme. can i get a berry trifle and coffee with oscar piastri please? thank you so much!!!

bakery menu

want to submit your own order! check the original post for all the information & prompts! as for this prompt, i am loving that people are into the whole rivals idea. i love writing rivals for f1, it's like the soap opera aspect of f1. it's very funny.

berry trifle ('wrong, try again') + coffee (rivals) served to you by oscar piastri (formula one!)

cw: smut/pwp, (failed) rivals au, driver!reader, driver!oscar, a dash of breeding kink, unprotected sex, references to masturbation, cowgirl position,

okay, oscar didn't hate you. despite what the press had been alluding to after hungary, oscar didn't hate you. in fact, he had respect for you, you were breaking barriers for women in the field.

but by god, did you light a fire in him.

when he first met you, you were in the semi-baggy driver's clothes. the fabric didn't give you much shape. so oscar just thought you were the cute new driver.

that was until you attended an event for ferrari with leclerc, the dress-code did not include the driver's suit. that was when oscar got a good look at your figure. there was a strength to your form that could clearly be seen by the lack of full sleeves on the dress you wore.

oscar didn't know he was attending the gun show!

but that only made his carnal craving for you grow deeper.

"she's turning a lot of heads." charles remarked before he took a sip of his drink, "i told her that if she really worked on it, she could get some hefty sponsors."

"or a date." lando remarked as the three men watched you talk your way through the room. eventually lando said, "i'd smash." before he downed his drink and got up to get another one.

charles looked to oscar and asked, "what are your thoughts on her, piastri?" he was genuinely curious, oscar was quiet about you.

oscar sighed and made a face, "i want to crush her on the track." he turned to the other man and shrugged, "i don't care if she's a woman, i'm here to win."

-

you beat him in belgium. you also beat norris, leclerc, and verstappen. you held that trophy over your head while the national anthem of your home country played. oscar swore that he saw tears in your eyes.

there was a buzz about you over the course of the summer break. oscar took it as an opportunity to invite you to england. all driver's ran in the same circles and oscar was just extending an offer for you to get out of monaco for a week!

"i promise, it does get sunny... sometimes." he said to you over the phone. he didn't admit but when he heard you beautiful voice on the other end of the line, his hand was already around his cock.

he was in anticipation for your visit and was more than happy to pick you up from the airport. you threw yourself at him and laughed.

"you were right, it is hot!" you were wearing a light sweatshirt, "i honestly thought you were fuckin' with me. you must be cold, mister australia!"

he scratched the back of his neck, and his eyes went wide when you hastily took off the sweatshirt, exposing more of your body to him. he didn't know that ferrari made such tight tank tops.

oscar's plans to really cement you as a rival failed upon impact. he thought this trip was going to be really getting to the core of you and cementing himself as you rival. but, instead you were helping him make breakfast because you 'felt bad' that he was doing 'everything'.

it was two eggs in a pain and couple of sausages.

you lingered around him, he noticed by the second day you smelt like his body wash when you got close enough to him. you were all bright smiles, soft gazes and tight little tops.

oscar ended every night with his cock in his hand, idly masturbating until his legs cramped up. the sick little kink he often let his mind wander about was the breeding kink.

his dream was two seasons with you at mclaren (sorry, lando). you in the bright orange across the paddock. then halfway through the second season, you start feeling unwell. you'd be too stubborn to take a pregnancy test, but with the amount of tests drivers have to take, it wouldn't be long before you were confronted by the fact that oscar got you pregnant! then you start a bright new future as mrs. piastri, and lando can come back (yay, lando!).

that was why his plan to make you his rival failed, because his need to get his cock wet overrode everything else.

it took a week before you two started sleeping together. you could only drink, laugh and play so many video games before you led him back to his bedroom like a siren.

it was met with giggles and bad jokes. hands touching skin and finally the clothes were shed.

oscar liked you on top, as did you. you liked having the control of your movements as your pussy was a vice around his leaky cock. you were on birth control (duh), but the other driver didn't need to know.

he honestly thought he was taking you raw.

"tell me who's going to win it all this year?" you asked as you rolled your hips. his cock was snug in you, you had to admit, the other driver was packing some heat between his legs.

and he wasn't afraid to use it.

oscar rubbed his thumb against your hip and said, "yeah, number eighty-eight for mclaren." he smiled cockily.

"wrong, try again." you said as you laughed and tapped him on the nose, which made him groan. you bent over himself as you rocked your hips and kissed at his face. he looked visibly relaxed.

"oh c'mon!" he laughed as he tried to set the pace himself. but you placed your hands on his chest and anchored yourself. you were not letting him take control.

you leaned in to kiss him again. the air conditioning in the room prevented it from getting too hot. but, oscar could see the slight sheen of sweat on your naked body in the afternoon light.

"you don't think i'll beat you?"

you shook your head and continued to move up and down on his cock. you pushed the hair out of your face, "oh, don't be silly, piastri." you playfully slapped his toned chest, "we all know i'm going to beat you." then flashed your press smile.

words like that made him want to breed you even more. but, he kept those thoughts to himself. he didn't want to risk losing such a sweet pussy in his close proximity.

it'd be hard to win championship when you were carrying the other driver's baby!

you rested up against his chest and rolled your hips. you had taken his cock to the root and it nudged against you with each thrust of your hips. you could feel his balls up against your pussy.

"shit, fuck. you feel so good."

"i bet you say that to all the girls you bring back to this place." you laughed as you really worked at riding him. you panted heavily as you moved against him.

he ran his fingers through your hair, "nah, nah. no girl's as pretty as you." oscar's plan slipped through his fingers, he wanted you more as a wife then a rival.

"well, aren't you sweet, oscar."

the two of you continued to fuck in the afternoon light. the pleasure pumped through your body as you rode him. you knew you weren't going to last long, that was one thing you could admit about oscar.

he was a good fuck.

the bed squeaked a little bit under the both of you. oscar's orgasm hit him hard and he finished inside of you in a huff. his nails dug into your hips as you continued to ride him till you found your completion.

he looked in a bit of a daze as you continued to hump against him. you felt the sweat on your back and oscar's strong chest under your nails, your short nails scratching against the skin.

"shit, oscar." you groaned as you reached your climax.

you were both out of breath. you didn't know what to do after you stopped your movements besides just giving him a firm pat on the chest. you panted, "good. good."

he laughed, "excellent. now c'mere."

you soon laid out on his chest and linked your fingers with his. your legs tangled together as you laid there trying to catch your breath. it was almost intimate.

you kissed at the other's collarbones, "so what do you say, piastri? another round and then we can get some dinner?"

-

that evening you called charles up, you were seated on the balcony of the flat with your legs kicked out on the small table.

"leclerc residence, charles speaking." he yawned on the other end.

you replied, "it's barely eight o'clock. you're getting too old." with a hint of laughter in your voice. in all fairness you were a little tired too.

"glad to see you're alive in england. how's oscar?"

"good, good. our little mission is a success." you beamed on the other end, "oscar will be as docile as your little leo."

charles chuckled on the other end, "if he is, he's going to need more training. i don't get why you didn't start with lando? he was into you too."

"yeah, but oscar's accent got me first." you sighed, "i mean, eventually the two will tear each other apart." you shrugged.

"or tear you apart." charles remarked.

"i'm not too worried there, leclerc. you men are quite funny sometimes. i'll tell you everything when i get back."

your teammate replied, "whatever, just don't come crawling back to me when they both catch on and you've got cum coming out of your ears."

formula one was a man's world, but if you could keep a man like oscar piastri on his knees for you. then maybe you had a chance of winning the championship.

[malleleothreesome]

Stage Sex - Fellow Honest x Fem Reader (Part One)

🌟 summary: Fellow convinces you to become his latest star, taking your virginity shibari style in front of a live audience. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: afab fem reader. Porn with plot – if the plot is him convincing you to partake in the porn. I didn't write this with the intent of it being dubcon (in my mind, reader is a willing participant, and I never describe her as otherwise), but please err on the side of caution if you're sensitive to that. It's starring Fellow Honest, after all – he comes prepackaged with manipulation skills. He does use a bit of his UM after reader already consents, and I refer to his magic as hypnosis, playing into the fact that you're obedient to him and he can use you as he pleases. There is a MAJOR VOYEURISM theme to this. He calls you names like "good girl", "slut" and "whore". In part 1 he helps bring you to clitoral orgasm for the first time while he jerks himself off. Also a few lines of cunnilingus and some fingering. Shibari bondage starts in part 2, additional warnings will be listed there. Please let me know in the comments if I missed a warning or tag idk I haven't written something of this caliber before. ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 7.2k words because I'm DERANGED ༶༶༶ 🌟 song: Carousel - Melanie Martinez "And it's all fun and games... 'til somebody falls in love"

Fellow Honest’s tail swung back and forth. He had certainly done his research, and all of that hard work would finally pay off. He watched as you entered the theme park, skulking in the shadows behind the rest of the students. You struck him as an outcast—no friends, no family. A beautiful girl from another world, with a figure that would make even the Gods themselves lust after. The only magicless human girl at the all boy’s magic college. Nothing to lose. How perfect.

“Hello, Miss…?” Fellow’s eyebrow raises as he tilts his head, leaning towards you on his cane. His calculated, fox-like eyes drink in every inch of you. Extending his right arm out to you, he welcomes your hand into his.

“Y/N,” you answer, a bit startled at his overt friendliness. Yet, you allow his white satin glove to grasp firmly around your hand. 

“What a lovely name for such a breathtaking woman.” He bows forward to kiss your hand, maintaining fierce eye contact. In one swift motion, he turns toward his amusement park, wipes his mouth clean of your touch, and proudly waves his arm in the air to show off his property. 

“Miss Y/N! Welcome to Playfulland!” he boasts. He turns back toward you, weaseling his way deeper into your personal space. “It is an incredibly rare occasion to welcome someone as beautiful as you into my humble little park.”

You dismiss his praise with a flick of your palm and a shake of your head, desperately hoping not to blush. “Oh, no need to be so modest, dear. A shape like yours could make any man fall in love. I doubt the students at the college are the only ones that appreciate it.” A sly smile is plastered on his face while his eyes continue to look you up and down with intention. Your mind runs wild as you try not to absolutely melt into his praise. “Are you sure you’re not a talking doll? It’s a marvel that a woman so flawless could exist.”

You smile softly and look to the ground, cheeks burning. You tuck a strand of hair awkwardly behind your ear, stalling for composure. How are you supposed to respond to a handsome, magnetic stranger saying all the right things? Not a single soul has spoken so highly of you since you found yourself trapped in this world, forced to attend Night Raven College. Your growing ego leaves you no choice but to soak it all in.

“Tell me, Miss Y/N. Have you ever thought about becoming a performer?” He doesn’t pause to let you answer. “Why waste your valuable early 20’s by studying and attending lectures and surrounding yourself with pathetic boys? Women as blessed as you are don’t need a degree. Surely a wealthy man can care for you far beyond a measly degree. And while you wait for him, why not fill your days with fame, riches, and adoration from performing on my stage?”

You stand in a stunned silence. This guy isn’t holding anything back, is he? Charm and charisma ooze from each syllable, making your heart race. It feels a little wrong, basking in the praise of a stranger like this. But you feel beyond lonely and underappreciated at NRC. You long to feel wanted and cared about. Why not give this attractive, complimentary man a chance?

Before you know it, the fox beastman's arms are wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, how rude I am!" he exclaims. "I haven't even given you my name."

"Allow me to properly introduce myself." With a quick spin of his heels, he steps back and bows, taking your hand once again. "The name's Fellow Honest, owner of Playfulland." He lifts his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours. "But please, you're welcome to call me whatever you'd like." He winks.

You could have sworn you felt a physical spark. Suddenly lightheaded, you pull your hand from his grasp, heart pounding in your chest. You can't take your eyes off him. You can't tell if your nervous system is trying to tell you to run towards or away from him. The longer you stare into his fire-orange eyes, the weaker your knees feel. He’s so close you can feel the heat emanating off of his body—is his perfume made of magic? 

Something inside of you urges you to step away and re-evaluate. "Uh... I should probably get back to my friends," you stammer, trying to get your legs to move. "I'm sure they're wondering where I went. Thank you for the, uh, offer, though. I’ll think about it."

Fellow's arm is suddenly around your waist yet again, his fingers pressed firmly against your lower back as he pulls you close. Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches as you make contact with his chest. You feel his lips brush against your ear, and he whispers, "I have to insist, my dear. My employees are quite skilled, but you'd be the best thing that has graced my stage in years. It would be an honor to have someone of your caliber work for me."

His proximity. His hot breath on your ear. His possessive touch digging into the soft skin of your back. You feel a familiar flutter deep in between your thighs—you like this. You want to protest, to push him away, but the electricity between you is hypnotizing. His aroma—sweet wine and fresh roses—only adds to the spell, drowning out all logic and giving way to your body’s desperate pleas to take the lead.

"I have an office inside the theater where we can discuss this further, if you'd like," he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. "And please, take all the time you need. You're welcome to stay the night. We have luxurious rooms available—a small taste of the lifestyle you’d have if you make the right choice. I'll have someone escort you back to campus if you change your mind."

Your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a familiar face—a way out. Where the Hell did Ace go?! What about Leona or Trey–surely your upperclassmen should have stuck around to make sure the only magically defenseless student isn’t being taken advantage of by any sexy, suspicious strangers. Not to mention the fact that you’re the only girl at school. Chivalry must be extinct in Twisted Wonderland. You feel your heart drop: maybe they never cared about you at all.

Fellow's tail flicks in excitement as he watches your expression. Your eyes are wide and panicked, and he can sense your desperation. He smothers his own smile as your body language slowly indicates defeat. How utterly effortless! He has you right where he wants you. You're his to play with, and no one is there to stop him.

"Come now, dear, it won't hurt to indulge a little," Fellow coos sweetly. Your brain short circuits, blocking all thoughts unrelated to the electrifying feeling of his slender fingers dancing along your waistline. "You're already here! Why not stay and have some fun?" His lips find their way to your neck and you let out a soft gasp as a pulsing warmth radiates from your cunt.

"Fine," you finally whisper.

Fellow chuckles victoriously against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "I knew you’d be such a good girl." He spins you around, the sexual tension forcibly dissipating as he rips you from your lascivious thoughts and begins walking you down the cobblestone path. His hand rests on the small of your back, and his cane taps merrily against the concrete as you go. Your mind is still reeling from the shocking exchange, and you can barely match his pace as he escorts you to the grand theater. 

You stifle a blush as you hear park goers whisper amongst themselves, eyes glued on you, mouths falling open. "Who is that? Is she a celebrity?”

“She looks like a supermodel,” a woman chimes in, her tone covetous. 

Fellow would never waste an opportunity for free advertisement. He turns his head toward the group as you both keep walking. “Stick around ‘til after dark and you might just see this beauty show it all off on my grand stage!” He shouts, waving his cane in the air. 

The two of you enter the theater and Fellow wastes no time leading you up the stairs toward a private hallway. His hand never leaves your waist. You pass several doors before reaching a pair of large, heavy wooden doors, which Fellow opens with ease.

You can't help but gawk at the size of his office. A massive, ornate wooden desk sits in the middle of the room, flanked by shelves lined with books and trinkets. There's a fireplace and two plush leather couches, as well as a small bar in the corner of the room.

"Please, make yourself at home," Fellow says as he closes the door behind him. He makes his way over to the bar, grabbing a bottle of wine with two glasses. You perch on one of the leather couches and he joins you, placing the wine and glasses on the table in front of you. As you inspect his office, you can't help but feel drawn to a mannequin adorned with a gorgeous bejeweled brassiere and matching pants—if there’s enough coverage to even call them that. Your faces heat up, and you quickly turn away.

"Beautiful, isn't it? One of my favorites," Fellow says, following your gaze. "Unfortunately, no one has had the pleasure of modeling it just yet." He furrows his brows in disappointment. He pops the cork on the wine bottle and begins to pour. "Maybe tonight will be the night. How lucky for me that I have the perfect model."

Something is starting to feel very exciting about all of this. You’ve never had an opportunity to wear such a costume. After being enrolled in Night Raven College only because Crowley didn't know what else to do with you, being here is starting to feel quite freeing. And the way Fellow looks at you… you’ve never felt more attractive. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, gifting you the courage and desire to be exactly who he believes you to be.

"Would you like to try it on?"

The question catches you off guard. He's now looking smugly at you. Your cheeks flush red, but you hold eye contact.

"Wh-what?"

"The outfit, Darling," Fellow says, nodding his head toward the mannequin. "You can try it on if you'd like." You take a long sip of red wine, savoring the smooth fruitiness. It immediately goes to your head, and you can't help but down the rest of it.

"Come now, Love," Fellow says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We both know what you want."

You stare at the outfit and then back at him. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. This is a bad idea, right? Or is it?

"Okay," you say, almost surprising yourself.

Fellow claps his hands together in delight. "Wonderful! Don't worry, I'm a gentleman—I'll look away while you get changed."

You make your way over to the mannequin, wobbling a bit from the alcohol. The bra is a dark purple while the jewels are varying shades of blue, making the whole outfit glitter like the night sky. The "pants" are a matching, dark purple lace thong, with ribbon and jewel embellishments. There is a sparkling, sheer miniskirt attached, more of an accentuation than actual coverage. You reach out to touch the fabric, marveling at how silky it feels. It's so sexy. Imagining yourself wearing it on stage in front of thousands of people, with everyone staring at you, craving you, makes you a bit wet with excitement. Maybe you do want this.

You look at Fellow one more time to ensure he’s not peeping.

Reader, take note that Fellow is, in fact, peeping—through his pocket mirror that he is blocking with his body. He’s far too good at this. 

Feeling secure, you unbutton your uniform blazer, letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor. You undo the buttons of your shirt next, slowly exposing your bare chest. 

Fellow bites his lip as he stares into the mirror, watching in awe as you undress. Your body is even more incredible than he could have imagined. 

You slip off your shorts and underwear next, leaving you completely naked except for your bra. Your hands fumble a bit as you unhook the costume, letting it fall to the floor. 

Fellow feels his pants tighten. 

You can feel yourself getting more aroused, the excitement of being naked in a room with a stranger—soon to show off a revealing costume—starts to go to your head. You grab the brassiere off the mannequin, throwing your arms through the loops, eager to see if you look as good in it as you hope you will. 

Fellow takes his sweet time watching in the pocket mirror. He grins, pleased with your inexperience, watching carefully so that he can see every inch of your struggle, savoring in it. “Oh, how easy this is,” he thinks.

After finally finding the right combination of hooks and clasps, you manage to get the brassiere fastened. You gasp softly, feeling the cool jewels press against your nipples through sheer fabric. You can't help but feel like it was made specially for you. The way it pulls your boobs together to create perfect, plump cleavage gives you actual pride. You shimmy the panties on next, loving the way the lacy fabric rubs against your clit as you pull the thong taut against your hips—a tingling reminder that your body is desperate for any sort of friction that may be interpreted as pleasure. You give your ass a little shake as you put on the skirt, reveling in how good the material feels as it brushes against your bare skin. Engrossed in your own experience, you’re completely unaware that you're giving Fellow quite the show. 

He can't help but lick his lips, reaching down to massage his groin through his slacks. 

You spin around and strike a pose for your imaginary crowd, feeling powerful. 

"Are you ready, my love?" Fellow asks, startling you out of your daydream. 

He pockets his mirror and adjusts the front of his pants, trying to disguise his erection as best he can.

"I'm ready."

"Show me what you've got," he says. You both turn around to face each other and he gasps, his eyes widening and mouth falling open.

"My goodness, darling," he whispers. "You're exquisite."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel like the sexiest woman alive. You take a step forward, heart pounding in your chest. Fellow stands up, taking his cane in his hand. He walks over to you and stalks circles around you, gazing up and down as though inspecting merchandise. You yelp as his cold, hard cane smacks your ass.

Finally he stops directly in front of you, meeting your gaze once again. "Oh, Darling, you're an absolute vision." He cups your cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb across your lips. He wears a sinister smile, and you feel your mouth run dry as you finally realize how sharp his fangs are. You're almost certain he can tell how turned on you are right now.

He pulls away to replenish your wine glass.

"I can't wait to see you dance, my dear. You're going to be a star." He gazes dramatically into the distance, waving his hand like he’s envisioning your name written in dazzling lights. He hands you the full glass and you gulp it down greedily, eager for the liquid courage. You don't even care that this man is a total stranger—it actually makes it hotter.

"Oh, one more thing," Fellow says. He stands up and walks over to the mannequin, opening a drawer next to it and grabbing a matching set of lacy thigh highs. He kneels down in front of you, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he slips the stockings onto your feet. He repeats the process on your other leg, taking his time to run his hands up and down your thighs.

You bite your lip and look away, feeling embarrassed by how wet you are. He's so close to where you want him to touch you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stand this before giving in and doing something you might later regret.

Fellow stands up, his hands gliding up your legs as he does. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up so you're forced to look at him.

"What a naughty little minx," he whispers. "You're practically dripping." He smirks, once again bearing his fangs in the process.

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink.

Fellow laughs. "Oh, there's no use hiding it, love. I can smell it." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your arousal. "It’s heavenly."

God dammit. You can't help but throw your head back in frustration from being outed so easily. Never underestimate a beastman's sense of smell.

He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"Don't worry, darling," he says, making his way back to the bar. "I'll make sure you're properly taken care of." He refills his glass and downs it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to wait until he's inside you.

You try to get back on track to a more... professional topic. "So, is this the type of outfit I would wear if I were to perform?" You try to sound as innocent as possible.

Fellow laughs a slow, deranged, almost maniacal laugh that makes your skin crawl. "Oh, no, darling. Outfits like these are reserved for the backup dancers. With the plans I have for you, you'll be wearing far less." He sets his wine glass on his desk and opens one of the drawers, pulling out a roll of thin, dark brown rope. Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks toward you, unraveling the rope as he goes.

You stumble backwards instinctively and even in your drunken haze, you start trying to take note of your surroundings and look for the exit. "Is this a joke?" you ask, trying to sound as calm as possible. "You know you don't need to tie me up if you want me to stay, right?" You try your best to reason with him and hope to God you didn’t put yourself in harm’s way.

"Oh, I'm not tying you up to get you to stay, Miss Y/N." He puts on his most pleasant and agreeable facial expression, lips contorting into an innocent cat-like smile, eyes crinkled as he feigns benevolence. "It smells to me like you'd do that all on your own. Am I correct?" He tilts his head toward you and gazes into your soul with piercing, knowing eyes. 

He makes a show of walking over to the door and opening it, waving his hand through the open air of the doorframe. "Make no mistake, I'm certainly not forcing you to stay here. You are welcome to leave right now. I'll even let you keep the outfit, if you’d like." He gives you a knowing smirk and continues to hold the door open.

You gulp, feeling the familiar heat between your thighs grow stronger. Your mind is racing, trying to think of every possible rationalization to feel safe staying—anything to get your pussy the relief it deserves. If he really was a predator—you try to reason with yourself—you'd probably be dead by now. And he was right, you do feel like you could get off, just from being tied up. Your body seems to be the decision-maker here, and it’s telling you to stay.

You shake your head at his offer. "No, I'm good."

"Wonderful," he purrs, his expression darkening. He slams the door shut and turns the lock, letting the thud of the door ricochet through your body. "Now then! The reason I am tying you up is for your performance. Just a few short hours until showtime!" He steps forward, closing the gap between you. He runs his fingertips down your bare arm, stopping to wrap them around your wrist. You shiver at his touch, your body instinctively leaning toward him, yearning for more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment and arousal. You don't understand how he's able to turn you on so easily.

"You see, my dear," Fellow begins, his voice soft and seductive, "I'm not the only one who's been watching you hungrily." You feel his hot breath on your neck as he brings his lips close to your ear. "Believe me, Doll, they're going to love what they see." He takes your hand in his and places it on the bulge in his pants. His cock throbs beneath his clothes and your eyes widen at how big he is.

"I'm not just a magician, but a master of hypnosis as well," he elucidates. 

He's never before been so forthcoming in his whole career, but there's just something about you that makes him want to be upfront. 

Truthfully, he hasn't had to use any hypnosis magic at all to persuade you. No, you wanted this on your own. Despite your innocence and reluctance—you wanted him. His cold heart skips a beat at the thought. He releases your hand and once again cups your cheek. He pushes a thumb past your lips and forces you to suck on it. A deep moan escapes his lips as the sensation of your soft tongue against his thumb runs straight to his aching loins. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he slides it down your chin, tracing your jawline before moving to your neck. You arch your back and press your body against his, feeling the tip of his thumb press along your jugular, sending chills down your spine.

"And I can assure you that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect little hypnotized whore." You shudder as his tongue traces the side of your neck—it feels so good. He continues to drag his tongue up to your ear, and you moan loudly as he suckles your earlobe. Your knees are giving out, so you wrap your arms around him for support. "That's the beauty of my magic, love. No prior experience necessary. I'll ensure you put on the show of a lifetime. Simply allow yourself to enjoy the ride." You whimper softly, unable to form coherent thoughts or speak intelligibly, too caught up in the way he's pleasuring you.

"But don't worry, Love," he says, his voice low and raspy. "You'll still remember everything when we're done."

Your head is dizzy, trying desperately to process his every word. You can't stop yourself from moaning as his hands continue to explore. As far as the current circumstances go, nothing matters, as long as he’s making you feel this damn good. He takes his time groping and squeezing wherever—and whatever—he can get his greedy hands on, relishing in the opportunity to touch your perfect frame.

Looking into your eyes, he's suddenly overcome with emotion—unusual for him. This isn't something he's ever done with his employees, but there is a twinge in his chest willing him to do it. Perhaps—just this once—he can deviate from the script. Fellow hungrily crashes his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You melt against him, opening your mouth to grant him entry. You feel yourself losing control as he dominates your mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue. You grip onto his hair, pulling him closer. His fangs lightly graze your bottom lip and it makes you shiver. The way he kisses you is so possessive and needy, and it's driving you wild. You've never been kissed like this before. His hands travel down your body and grip your ass tightly, causing you to yelp. Your hands claw at his blue coat and green vest, desperately trying to remove his clothes so you can feel his bare skin. He growls into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

"Eager little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs against your lips.

You nod in response, gasping when he suddenly pulls away. Seeing how needy you are, he smirks, delighted at how much you want him.

"Oh, Darling. Why don't you save that for the audience?" he teases. "You're going to put on a good show for them, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'll do my best. I promise I'll make you proud," you gasp, feeling even more aroused by his words.

"That's a good girl." Fellow paces the room, circling you like a vulture. You can feel his eyes on you and can't help but squirm under his gaze. He grabs the rope from earlier, stopping right in front of you. His cane appears in his grasp, seemingly out of thin air. "Such a perfect little slut, so eager to please. I bet you'd do anything I asked you to, wouldn't you?" he asks, spinning his cane with the flick of his fingers, utilizing his hypnosis magic for the first time that day. He needs to ensure your loyalty lies with him.

"Yes." You answer without reluctance.

Fellow's cane magically disappears from his hand. "Such a good little whore." He takes a strand of your hair in his fingers and twirls it before gently tucking it behind your ear. "Now, a few more formalities before we get you ready for the stage. Shall we?" You flinch at the sound of him smacking the rope against the floor, like he's trying to command a circus animal.

Your mind is fuzzy, body practically burning with desire—you don't even notice him guiding you to his desk. He bends you over the hard wood, your breasts and stomach pressing against the cool surface. He presses his body against yours, his erection grinding between your ass cheeks, and you can't help but moan. Fellow rips off his gloves, tossing them aside. His right hand snakes around your body and reaches into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your wet clit. He slips a finger inside you—finally.

"My, my…" he whispers. "So wet for me already. You’ll look so beautiful when you're on stage for everyone to see. My precious little toy."

Your breathe heavier as he continues to fuck you with his finger, tantalizingly slow. Just as you open your mouth to beg for more, he slips his finger out of you and slams a contract on the table in front of you.

"I need you to sign this first. Standard contract," he says casually. "This is a business, after all." He drops a pen within your reach. All the while, he continues grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against the sheer fabric of your panties, further tantalizing your throbbing clit. "Go ahead, Darling. I can't wait to show you off."

You sign your name on the dotted line, quickly dismissing what seems to be the final roadblock in your path to pleasure. There's nothing else in your psyche than how badly you need him to fuck you. Your pussy aches with desire—you can't wait any longer. "Please. Please, fuck me," you whimper, begging him to give you what you want.

"Oh, Darling," he purrs. "All in due time."

Fellow leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I wonder how many people will come tonight just to see this pretty little body of yours?" he asks. "How many men and women will stare at you, touching themselves as you writhe in pleasure? I bet you can't wait for them to see how much of a needy little whore you are. You were born to be a star." His voice is soft and seductive as he plays on your desperation.

"Now. Let's get you out of these clothes." He expertly unhooks your bra with a single hand. With a swift yank, it falls to the floor, revealing your perfect tits, hard nipples on full display. "Beautiful. So deliciously plump and round, my flawless doll." 

You're still bent over the table as his fingers snake into the elastic waistband of your skimpy skirt and thong. He pulls it taut, ready to tear it right off of you... but he hesitates, remembering its one-of-a-kind value. Squatting slightly, he gently pulls your skirt and panties to the floor, utilizing the opportunity to bask in the aroma and view of your now-exposed pussy. He grabs your thighs where the stockings are and, quite impatient, rolls them down as his fingernails trail lines down the flesh of your legs in the process. He guides your feet out of each leg hole, revealing your full nudity. Seeing your juices glisten makes his eyes light up, mouth curling into a grin. His mouth waters and he inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent. He can't help but lean for a taste, his tongue gliding against your folds and lapping up your essence. Your knees buckle as his warm, wet tongue explores your deprived cunt. Nothing has ever felt so good. Your entire body trembles and you cry out in pleasure. He keeps his hands firmly planted on your ass, holding you in place as he continues to lap up your pussy. It feels so good, it's almost painful. He pulls away after a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"So, tell me, Love. Are you a virgin?" he asks with a sneaking suspicion. He traces his fingertips down your spine, awaiting your response.

You shudder, the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin is so tantalizing. "Yes," you answer, unable to hold back your excitement.

Fellow's eyes widen, surprised by how easy it was to get you to admit that. He smirks, continuing to caress your back. "Ah, perfect," he hums. "What a privilege it is to deflower you." He reaches for his phone on his desk and utilizes the speech to text feature to say one thing: “We’ve got a virgin.” He clicks the display off and gives you a wink. "The marketing team will start advertising for a very special show tonight. I wonder how many people will come to watch me break in a virgin? I'm sure we'll sell out! An incredibly rare specimen indeed."

His words send a chill down your spine. The thought of thousands of people watching you lose your virginity excites you even further, and you find yourself becoming increasingly aroused. Your whole body is hot—you can't help but squirm as your juices slowly drip down both legs. You shudder, picturing an entire audience getting aroused, their attention rapt on you. Just the thought of how many people will want you... all of those horny people, with their eager bodies and impatient erections at the sight of you losing your innocence. A hot sensation pools deep in your belly and your clit throbs with need. You roll your hips back toward him, wordlessly indicating your desires.

He pockets his phone, delighted that the plan is progressing so flawlessly. "Tell me, my dear, have you ever orgasmed before?" You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you shake your head. He grins, leaning in closer, his tail swishing between his legs and up onto your throbbing clit. It tickles so good. "Have you ever touched yourself?" Your body heats up, and a wave of shyness washes over you as you attempt to suppress a groan. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to surrender yourself completely. "What a beautiful thing, modesty…" he muses. "Tell me, Dear. No need to be so shy." Your face is turning a dark crimson, and he's never found something so appealing in all his years.

"No. Not successfully," you answer softly. You've never been able to get yourself off. Your hands would wander as you'd lie in bed, desperate to find some sort of relief, but it never came. You've never had that pleasure before, and you were starting to think you may never experience it.

"Oh, Darling, you poor thing. I'll have to take care of that for you. I know all the tricks.” Hearing the zipper of his pants, you gasp in anticipation. He takes his cock out of his boxers and you feel the flesh of his hardened tip slide over your wet labia. He takes your hand in his and guides it to your clit, teaching you how to circle your fingers around it in the perfect motion.

"Just like that, Love," he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "You're doing so well. Doesn't that feel good?" You moan softly as he continues to guide you, his free hand on his cock, sliding up and down its length, using your never-ending juices as lubrication. He bucks his hips slightly as he starts to jerk himself off, letting out a quiet moan, teasing himself and rubbing his cock head against the sopping wet folds of your untouched pussy—knowing he has to save it if he wants a fruitful show. The way your face contorts and your lips part with desperate pleasure, he suddenly has to fight himself not to lose control and break your hymen right then and there.

Knowing that Fellow can’t help but touch himself to you amplifies the pleasure even further. Your fingers continue to dance over your clit and for the first time, it feels amazing. Every nerve in your body is electrified, your breath coming in short pants. Your hand feels like it's floating through space as he moves you like a puppet, directing your motions the way that he wants you. He rubs himself a bit faster as he watches you writhing, becoming more desperate and vocal than before. His own lust becomes insatiable. He’s sculpting you into the perfect masterpiece, just the way he likes it—his own custom sex toy.

"Just imagine all those people in the audience," he murmurs. His hand quickens on his cock and he groans. His hand over yours speeds up to match his pace, and he adds more pressure to show you exactly how to pleasure yourself. "All of those hungry eyes on you, craving every inch of you…" His hips jerk slightly and he moans, losing himself to his own dirty thoughts. Your clit is throbbing so painfully that tears begin to form at the edges of your eyes. He has never seen anyone become so intoxicated with the simple idea of him before, and you don't even realize how loud and desperate your moans and cries have become. His face flushes every time you scream his name, and your beautiful expression fills him with the greatest satisfaction, an image forever imprinted in his brain. The sight of you, so eager to please him—he knows now that he'll never let you go.

You feel yourself approaching explosion—the very first time—and your muscles tense in response. "Oh, fuck, every single one of them will be touching themselves, getting off to the sight of you, desperate to be where I am right now. And here you are, moaning my name as I prepare you, just aching for me to bring you to your first orgasm. You'll look so beautiful when I pop that sweet little cherry of yours." 

He groans and bucks his hips, jerking himself off faster and faster. Your clit throbs, ready to explode. "You want to cum, don't you, darling?" His voice is low and husky, and he pants heavily. "Cum for me, darling, cum for me. I want to hear you scream for me." Your toes curl, knees buckling in ecstasy. He guides your hand even faster over your clit. "That's it, Love, just let go." His voice is the sweet encouragement that pushes you over the edge, almost on command. You feel a strange electricity ripple through your leg muscles, a release that exceeds every single thing you thought you knew about pleasure.

Your first true orgasm rips through your body like a tornado, tearing apart any inhibitions and preconceived notions about reality. Everything around you turns bright white as euphoria sweeps through your body, wave after wave leaving you moaning and shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Your legs feel like jelly, and it becomes impossible to hold yourself up. His fingers leave yours, transferring their tight grip to your hair, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he fucks himself furiously to the sight of you. You were like putty in his hand, melting and molding according to his wishes—a perfect, brainwashed, fucked-out little slut.

Fellow lets out a strained grunt as he orgasms, painting your ass with his seed. He can't help but sigh in pleasure as he gazes lovingly at the blank and pliant expression on your face as he drains the rest of himself onto you. He sighs as his last spurts dribble from the tip of his cock, admiring how much he's marked you as his. You're still shaking and whimpering as you come down from your high, your face contorted in pleasure, your eyes glazed over and staring into nothing. You look absolutely fucked out, and he takes a moment to admire your blissful expression before finally releasing you from his grip. He gives you a small push, causing you to fall forward onto your hands. He takes a step back to admire his handiwork—your thighs are soaked with your own cum, and your ass is dripping with his.

"Such a good girl," he praises. "You did such a good job for me. You're going to be the best performer I’ve ever had. It's about time we take you to the stage to get you set up, my dear. You’re better than I could have ever imagined.” You can only gasp, too wrecked from your pleasure to respond in words. Fellow grins with satisfaction, memorizing the sight of his seed glistening all over your back, chuckling to himself as he wipes it off with a tissue. He tosses the tissue into a random corner of his office and then helps you find your footing again.

Gently lifting your chin, his gaze softens, mouth opening to form a gentle smirk. His thumb brushes against your trembling bottom lip, a caring and fond expression overtaking his features. 

Your heart leaps into your throat as you begin to question the warmth in his smile and his affectionate gaze. Is your body's chemical response misreading signals, or are you witnessing evidence that Fellow perhaps has a bit more going on than simply taking sexual interest? A new, deeper desire to understand the mysterious man behind the curtain of your own experience begins to bloom in your mind. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your cheek. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips and you return it, savoring the way his soft lips feel against yours. It feels so intimate, like a lover's kiss, and your heart flutters in your chest. You pull away and look into his eyes once more, trying to figure out what he's thinking, but you can't read his expression. His face is completely unreadable, granting you no indication as to whether you're making any progress in decoding him.

He takes off his coat and helps you put it on, wrapping you up to ensure your modesty is protected for your short walk to the stage. He takes your hand and guides you out of his office, your legs still shaking from climax.

You walk together in silence, hand in hand, your head still spinning as you try to process everything that just happened. You can't believe how incredible your first orgasm felt, and you're already craving another.

"What are you thinking about, Darling?"

"I'm thinking about how I’ve never felt that good before," you admit, blushing slightly.

Fellow chuckles. "That's very sweet," he says. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be sure to give you many more orgasms in the future." His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing for him.

You continue walking in silence until you arrive at the stage. Fellow stops in front of the stage door and turns to face you.

"Are you ready, Love?" he asks, his voice gentle. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. His carnelian gaze holds yours, his hot breath dancing across your fingers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Your heart swells and you feel yourself melting.

You nod enthusiastically and squeeze his hands, hoping he doesn't pick up on your nervous, pounding heartbeat. "I'm ready," you affirm, gazing intently into his beautiful, half-lidded eyes, feeling braver and more confident than you have all day.

He flashes a subtle smile. "Wonderful." He gives you one last peck on the cheek before turning to open the stage door. He places his free hand on your lower back and guides you onto the stage, leading you towards the center, where the lighting crew are busy at work. He introduces you and makes a show of presenting you to the crew—holding out your arm like he would for a debutante entering a ball, a prince presenting his chosen partner to a ballroom dance. The crew whistle and holler as you walk onto the stage. All you can do is stand there with the distinct smile of a hypnotized-yet-willing participant in the world's most eccentric 18+ theater. Their ogling is the furthest thing from your mind, as your attention remains firmly rooted on the charismatic manager in your grasp.

"Sorry, Boys. This one is mine. No one can have her but me." He places his hand on the side of your arm and pulls you close to him, draping an arm over your waist possessively.

As you glance up, your breath catches and your heart skips a beat; your adoring, hungry gaze is returned by his, a mirror of your own emotions shining through in his flaming irises. There's something strange about his stare—there always is. His face betrays some of that vulnerability again, an instance where he's truly letting his guard down, a crack in his meticulous and calculated visage. It’s a warm hint of softness that signals what he said to the crew might ring true outside of these walls as well.

Fellow turns back toward the crew as a new scene is placed before them, and within a split second, he resumes his demeanor of a business-oriented gentleman. "One hour ‘til showtime. Make her shine, People! We want the audience drooling the second she gets on stage!" He holds out his hand, his cane reappearing like magic. "Have fun in makeup!" He winks at you, the flick of his head gesturing you away.

Stylists appear behind you, and you reluctantly release your hold on him. He flashes a reassuring smile as you are guided away, a bewitchingly charming smile settling onto his lips. You head backstage, and he turns to get back to business.

Damn, if you made it all the way down here... wow. Thank you so much for spending this time with me. If you enjoyed this, that means a lot to me because this is pretty much just a self indulgent fic I started writing as soon as Fellow dropped without really knowing too much about him. I haven't begun writing part two, but I have my general ideas of where I want it to go. If you have suggestions for part two, please comment or send me an ask, I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome

[tenelkadjowrites]

Declaration - Hongjoong x Reader (NSFW)

🍒 Summary: On the brink of moving out of the apartment you share with your bad boy roommate, Hongjoong, you’re shocked to learn that he’s a virgin - and wants his first time to be with you.

🍒 Word count: 9k

🍒 Genre & warnings: one shot smut. roommates to lovers. mentions of smoking, drinking, physical violence. loss of virginity. dirty talk. unprotected sex. creampie. oral sex.

this fic is not meant to represent hongjoong in any way, shape or form.

                “You’re lucky we didn’t get tossed out of here.”

                “Please, the bartender loves us.”

                “Does he?”

                “Well, he loves our money.”

                The heavy sigh you emit does not go unnoticed. Hongjoong glances up from his spot in front of the sink, casting a look in your direction. In the dimly lit, run down bathroom of the shitty bar you’ve been in for the past few hours, he appears to be in his element.

                That isn’t surprising, seeing as Hongjoong and his merry band of delinquents loved to frequent spots like this, stirring up trouble and relishing it. You just wish it hadn’t been tonight, of all nights.

                “Stop moving,” Seonghwa grumbles as he wraps the bandage around Hongjoong’s knuckles.

                It is a familiar sight: the dirty bathroom, the muffled rock music, Hongjoong being patched up by Seonghwa, their heads bowed together as they examine the injury. Hongjoong’s hair is electric blue (“Gatorade hair” you like to call it to annoy him sometimes) compared to Seonghwa’s black and occasionally they are so close together their hair mingles a little like swirling paint.

                “We can’t be in here forever. Eventually, someone is gonna need the bathroom,” You point out.

                But Hongjoong doesn’t seem concerned. “Woo will take care of it.”

                You don’t doubt that, seeing as Wooyoung is standing guard just outside the door. Seonghwa releases his hold on Hongjoong’s hand, briefly admiring the patch job he did to stop the bleeding from where Hongjoong had thrown a punch, missed, and struck the wall so hard some plaster fell off. Not that it stopped him from swinging again, this time finally connecting with the jaw of the man who ran his mouth a little too much for Hongjoong’s liking.

                You cross your arms, tentatively leaning against the wall next to the door. The various flyers for bands crinkle underneath your jacket; some of them are so old that they seem to be permanent fixtures to the paint.

                “Thanks, Hwa,” He says and then jerks his head in the direction of the door, “A moment alone though, please.”

                Seonghwa shoots you a glowering look, knowing that the part of the night where you lecture Hongjoong is about to begin. As he walks past you, dressed entirely in black, his lips smacking from his chewing gum, he doesn’t break eye contact with you. This no longer phases you, entirely used to Seonghwa and his guard dog act. Making sure to roll your eyes as he pushes the door open, almost colliding with Wooyoung, you then turn your attention to Hongjoong.

                “Does he always need to be like that?”

                “You know, a lot of women love Seonghwa,” Hongjoong replies, flexing his fingers to make sure the bandage remains in place, “Are quite dedicated to him, in fact. They write page after page describing him.”

                “Couldn’t be me,” You retort and leave your spot by the wall, going towards Hongjoong and motioning to see his hand which he extends, “I really didn’t want the night to play out this way, you know.”

                Hongjoong has enough sense to look slightly abashed while still protesting at the same time. “You heard what that guy was saying about you.”

                “Who cares? You always take me to some shithole like this and then are blown away when some asshole runs his mouth. You’ve never decked them before.”

                “Tonight is different. We’re celebrating,” He puts emphasis on the word as if it clears everything up, “You got an amazing job and the party shouldn’t be ruined by some asshole.”

                And you’re moving out, is the unsaid sentence because for all your differences with Hongjoong, he’s been your roommate for the last four years. But your new job is on the outskirts of the city and the commute just didn’t make sense, leading you to make the choice to move closer.

                Hongjoong, with his slight frame, short height and diminutive appearance, would normally not fit the picture of what a hard ass would look like. But in the four years of knowing him, including moments like having to pay bail a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t sitting in a cell, you know better. Hongjoong has a ferocity to him unmatched by anyone else in his group of equally feral friends. He isn’t afraid of anyone, doesn’t think repercussions through, acts on instinct instead of logic, and tears through people and things for the fun of it.

                But he never misses rent, keeps things exceptionally tidy and isn’t home very often. In all, a dream roommate which meant overlooking the chaotic way his life was lived outside the apartment.

                You hadn’t made it a habit to hang out with Hongjoong regularly, seeing as it always resulted with Seonghwa patching him up in a grimy bathroom. But after asking you to come out for one last hurrah before the move, you agreed – and now stood in the aforementioned grimy bathroom.

                You make sure that Seonghwa did a good job with the bandage, taking note of the blood seeping through a little at Hongjoong’s knuckles. At some point during the fight, Hongjoong’s hat went flying although you are sure someone has retrieved it. He has a baggy black t-shirt on, oversized for his thin frame, with the logo of some underground rock group you’ve never heard of. His jeans are covered in rips and tears and his combat boots are well worn with paint splattered all over them. His nails are painted black although at this point they are more chipped than not. His facial features are at odds with his clothing; he looks as delicate as a small bird which is probably why he has two eyebrow piercings above one eye and a lip ring to try to counteract that very comparison.

                “I think the celebration would go smoother without some jerk threatening to sue you.”

                Hongjoong gives a small shrug. “He won’t do anything. And we didn’t even get kicked out.”

                “A successful night for sure,” You reply dryly, finishing up studying his hand – as usual Seonghwa had done a good job.

                Hongjoong grins wickedly, “They usually are. Come on,” He nudges you with his shoulder while walking towards the door, “It’s only a little past midnight.”

                You sigh, following your roommate out into the night of whatever little bit of chaos remained.

*

                The ‘little bit of chaos’ ended up resulting in a hangover and sleeping past noon. By the time you’re up, showered, managed to eat something and are focusing on packing up the rest of your things, it is past six pm. You only have a week until it is time to move and your room is filled with boxes and a random assortment of items tossed all over the place. Stretched out on your bed, you are staring at a pile of clothes, torn between donating them or keeping them just in case.

                Overthinking the clothing situation is only making your hangover headache worse. The apartment is quiet because Hongjoong, after making sure you got back home safely at two in the morning, had went back out. This is normal for him so you don’t think much of it. Seonghwa is moving in after you go and will continue his guard dog act so Hongjoong will always have someone watching over him.

                As if conjuring your roommate up, you hear the front door open and the sound of Hongjoong’s boots against the floor before he removes them.

                “Are you here?” He barks out into the silence and when you call back an affirmative answer, he appears a few seconds later at the entrance to your room.

                His hair is disheveled, small dark circles under his eyes that means he is running on basically no sleep while in the same clothes as yesterday.

                “How’s your hand?” You ask, motioning him to come inside – all these years living together and Hongjoong never entered your room without permission.

                He blinks in surprise, as if having forgotten about the injury entirely, glancing down at it. “Oh? Fine, I guess.”

                When he gets a step closer, you scrunch up your nose. “Joong, you stink, no offense. You smell like fifty bars threw up on you.”

                Hongjoong immediately looks affronted, grabbing the front of his shirt and sniffing it. He smells of booze, cigarette smoke and the city in general. “I don’t smell anything.”

                “Of course you don’t, you’re just soaking in it.”

                “Well,” He sways a little on his feet, “I’ll shower.”

                You narrow your eyes at your roommate, sliding off the bed and braving the smell to look closer at his face. “Are you drunk?”

                “Still drunk, actually, because I was drunk last night, remember.”

                “Fucking hell, what have you been doing since I got back here?”

                “Uh….drinking.”

                “Okayyy,” You drag the word out, gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders and turning him to face the door, “Why don’t we get you in bed to sleep this off and then you can shower? Last thing I want to deal with before I move is you falling in the shower and hurting yourself.”

                “This jerk challenged Mingi and I to a drinking contest,” Hongjoong explains sourly, “I lost.”

                “Clearly. How did Mingi fare?”

                “He won,” He replies brightly, his words slurring at the edge, “We spent the winnings on more booze.”

                “Wonderful, truly. Let’s move it along, please.”

                “Wait, wait,” His hand reaches out for the doorframe, the nail polish completely chipped off the thumb, “Wait.” His slender fingers grip the wood, knuckles turning white for a second.

                You release your hold on his shoulders as Hongjoong turns around to face you. In the evening sun coming through the window, it is clearer now that he is intoxicated. This isn’t new behavior for him. In the four years of being his roommate, you’ve made a point in not asking the following: what he does when he’s out with his friends when you’re not around and how he makes his money to pay rent. Some knowledge is better off not knowing.

                “You’re moving soon so it doesn’t matter,” He declares – to you? to himself? You’re not sure.

                “What doesn’t matter?”

                “All of it.”

                “Can you be a little more specific?” You are trying to keep impatience from creeping into your tone, casting a glance at the collection of clothes you need to get back to overthinking about.

                “There’s something I need to talk to you about. Ask you about? Uhm,” His brow furrows in drunken confusion for a second before he continues, “It’s about me.”

                “Should we discuss this now?” You say with a small sigh.

                “You’re moving so I wanted to ask if you could do me a favour.”

                “I’m not helping you hide a body.”

                “N-no, what? No, not that. Besides, I’d ask Hwa for help with something like that. He’s very meticulous.”

                “Can you please get to the point?”

                Hongjoong suddenly looks a bit unsure of himself which is strange to see. You can’t actually recall ever seeing the expression on his face before and it ushers you into silence, wondering with a quickening heart what in the world he is going to tell you.

                His words are still slurred so you lean a little closer to him (much to your chagrin, given the smell) to try to understand what he is saying.

                “Since you’re moving, I wanted to ask if you would – well, the thing is. You know, I’ve fooled around a lot. But never…you know. So I was wondering if you would. With me.”

                You blink at him, unable to comprehend what Hongjoong is trying to say. If it had been anyone else talking, you would have assumed they were trying to tell you they were a virgin. But that would be ridiculous given the fact this is Hongjoong, who seemed to naturally have people drawn to him. You also definitely saw him making out with people in bars before too…

                As the silence drags on, Hongjoong shifts uncomfortably. That same fragile expression is on his face, a far cry from the usual cocky grin he carried.

                “I’m sorry, are you telling me that you’re a…virgin?” You finally ask point blank when it became clear that your roommate is not going to speak more.

                Hongjoong blinks and to your surprise, there is a touch of colour across his cheeks as he replies stiffly, “Yes.”

                “And you’re asking me to…sleep with you?”

                He clears his throat a little. “Yes.”

                You don’t know what to say and can’t really wrap your head around what he is telling you. What you do know is Hongjoong is drunk and this is not a conversation to be had at this moment. He might not even remember it come tomorrow nor the request he has made.

                Carefully, you reply, “Hongjoong, I think you should get some sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow, alright? But you’re intoxicated and this is more of a…. sober conversation.”

                He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and mumbles that he understands. Turning around, he shuffles out of your room and down the hall to his own space, closing the door firmly behind him. You hover in the doorway, waiting for…well, you aren’t sure. Was he upset that you pushed the conversation off? Even if he is, you know you did the right thing.

                When it is clear Hongjoong isn’t going to reappear, you quietly shut the door and stare at your bed.

                How is it possible that your roommate is a virgin? He is exceptionally good with people, charming even - when he wanted to be. Sure, he might throw a punch here or there or…often but you also witnessed him flirting constantly with people.

                On the other hand, now that you’re thinking about it, you cannot recall Hongjoong ever bringing someone back to the apartment to spend the night. But you just assumed that he was sleeping with people elsewhere.

                Apparently, he wasn’t.

                So I was wondering if you would. With me.

                For all Hongjoong’s tendencies to get in trouble, you always considered him a friend. But the thoughts never crossed into anything else. You never pictured yourself taking things further with him. He had been your roommate for years, why mess that up with sex?

                Since you’re moving…obviously Hongjoong gave this some thought before drunkenly suggesting you take his virginity. There isn’t anything to ruin when you’re moving out. If the sex was terrible or awkward, Hongjoong knew you’d be on the other side of the city. Through that lens, it made sense why he asked you.

                Tomorrow, you think, I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow when he’s sober.

*

                Late afternoon the next day, you stand outside Hongjoong’s door. He slept almost the entire day, waking up only two hours ago and taking an incredibly long shower. The kitchen smells of coffee and half the pot is already gone. His room is mostly quiet although the low hum of a TV show lets you know he is up.

                You aren’t sure how to approach this conversation. You’ve seen Hongjoong punch multiple people, you’ve seen him get hauled out of bar fights by Jongho, you’ve watched him fix up a motorcycle for an illegal street race and have lost count at watching Seonghwa patch him up.

                But you’ve never had a conversation about his sexual history or how it might include you.

                Lecturing Hongjoong is second nature to you, to the point that you sometimes think he enjoys the speeches. Talking to Hongjoong about his virginity? Yeah, you’re out of your element. You’re hoping that he was so drunk last night that he made the whole thing up.

                But the expression on his face during his confession lingers in your mind, giving you a sneaking suspicion there wasn’t anything false about it.

                Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door. You hear something clatter to the floor and then a shuffling of Hongjoong’s feet. A second later, he opens the door, avoiding your eyes.

                “Hey.”

                “Hi, Joong. How are you feeling? Hungover?”

                “No,” He says almost defensively as if being hungover would be a slight on his character, “Just tired.”

                “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a second.”

                His eyes flick up to yours. There is a wariness that has settled across his delicate face. He remembers the conversation, you think as he moves to the side to let you into his room. The blinds are pulled shut over the window. The TV has some show on at a low volume, the screen brightness so dimmed that you know he is definitely hungover since it must hurt his eyes.

                Hongjoong is wearing an oversized white t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants. He looks somehow smaller than ever. Even with the eyebrow and lip piercings, you don’t think that it is possible to recall a time where he looked so tiny. He also smells a thousand times better than yesterday; the scent of clean laundry and soap clings to him in an almost comforting way.

                You sit gingerly on the edge of Hongjoong’s bed. One side of his room is a chaotic mess of paintings in progress, a collection of paints shoved on top of his dresser in a teetering tower, completely unorganized. Hongjoong didn’t keep it a secret that he was an artist but the amount of people who knew probably could be counted on your fingers. He never showed his finished work to anyone and you only caught glimpses the rare times you were in his room.

                Hongjoong just stands there, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. You have no idea how to start this conversation.

                “Listen, this is kinda awkward for me,” You begin, “But I have to talk to you about a conversation we had yesterday when you were drunk.”

                “I remember it,” His tone is defensive, straightening himself out so that he looks as tall as possible.

                You’ve never had his attitude directed at you before but are familiar with it. Right now, however, it comes off as artificial, an act to protect himself from however this talk goes.

                “Great, okay. Were you telling the truth?”

                “Why would I lie?”

                “Maybe you found it funny.”

                “Why would that be funny?” He snaps, his agitation and anxiety too powerful to be masked by his tough guy exterior.

                You shrug. “Seeing my reaction about something like that. You might believe that I would find something amusing about an admission like that. I don’t, by the way. But when you’re drunk, sometimes what we find funny can be different.”

                Hongjoong narrows his eyes slightly, crossing his arms. He looks as defensive as ever but you get the feeling he is crossing his arms more to mentally protect himself, not because he is actually hostile. “You don’t find it funny?”

                “No. So, it’s true then? You’re a virgin?”

                Hongjoong flinches at the word and then scowls. “Yes.”

                “Not to lecture you but you do know virginity is just a social construct –”

                He waves one hand dismissively as if swatting a fly. “Don’t start. I already know. I’ve read it online a thousand times. And it’s not like I have zero experience. Casually making out in bars or whatever happen often enough.”

                “Right,” You reply, “But anything more than that…”

                He averts his gaze, still on edge. “Nothing. It isn’t that I’m against it. I just built it up too much in my head and now it’s some gigantic thing that gives me anxiety. I’ve had a thousand different ideas. I’ve thought about just finding someone at one of the bars or one of the shows I go to and fucking them behind the stage or something and getting it over with. I don’t want it to be some fucking…cuddly romantic thing. But when it comes to pulling the trigger, I just never seem to.”

                “And the idea to ask me?”

                There is a flicker of embarrassment that is wiped cleanly away by his earlier expression of hostility as he replies, “You’re moving. So, if it is awkward or terrible, it doesn’t matter. I won’t ever have to see you again. It can’t ruin us being roommates cuz you’ll be gone. You understand?”

                “Yeah, I get it. But there needs to be…a level of attraction for sleeping together to work, Hongjoong. And I have to admit that I never thought of you that way because you’re my roommate.”

                Hongjoong tentatively sits next to you on the edge of the bed although his posture looks as if he is ready to flee at any second. “Yeah, but we’re not going to be come next week. So…think about it.”

                You study his profile since he remains steadfastly looking ahead. The curve of his elegant nose, the fragility of his features – no amount of piercings could erase those things. Even his hands resting in his lap look to be made from porcelain, the bandage still wrapped around his knuckles making you wonder how he hasn’t broken a bone from throwing punches.

                You try to picture Hongjoong approaching your bed, stripping your clothes off your body, his fingers running across your skin. His lips against yours, the way his breathing would change when he would be turned on. He would probably still be in control when it came to sex, judging from how he is in everything else, even if it would be entirely new to him. The idea of him turning into a whimpering mess seems unlikely to happen.

                “Just think about it,” Hongjoong goes, “I know it’s…an unusual request. But I feel comfortable with you. I don’t think the anxiety would be so bad knowing you’re moving out and if it sucks, it won’t matter. That’s why I want it to be you and no one else.”

                You stand up, skin strangely hot and nod. “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

                Hongjoong looks relieved, nodding. “Great. Well, listen, I gotta clean my bedsheets cuz they smell like booze and I have half a pot of coffee left to go so…”

                “Right, I’m going now,” You say, eyes darting to his hands one last time, thinking about how they’d feel against your thighs, “Thanks for the talk.”

                Hongjoong shrugs with the air of forced casual indifference which you see right through but won’t point out. You close the door, mulling over what it would be like to sleep with him. He’s right in that there wouldn’t be any downsides. You’re moving so if it’s terrible, does it matter? It would be so easy to tumble into bed with him.

                Once you’re back in your own room, you flop down on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

                So think about it.

                Hongjoong makes it sound so simple. That causes you to wonder how long he had been thinking about it, how long he imagined sleeping with you. He never gave any indication about such things but he also hides everything under his tough guy exterior.

                In your four years of being roommates with Hongjoong, you always trusted and got along with him. Sure, his life was not one you fully understood nor wanted for your own but he seemed at ease in it. There was the time your car broke down and he sent Yeosang out to pick you up immediately. The rare time you’d attend a rock show with Hongjoong and he would viciously push any guy who tried to get a little too touchy feeling with you under the guise of being smushed in the crowd. Sometimes, after vanishing for a few days, he would reappear with your favourite Starbucks order for no reason at all. Or that one time your relationship ended because your ex cheated on you and Hongjoong played innocent when they showed up and accused him of keying his car. Not to mention the fact Hongjoong just punched that guy last night for being vulgar…

                “Oh god,” You mumble, suddenly sitting up.

                Of course it had been easy for Hongjoong to imagine sleeping with you. The gestures that you just assumed were typical roommate ones and hadn’t questioned are now very clearly indications of a larger interest in you. You’re only seeing it now because of his confession of his virginity and asking to lose it to you, of all people.

                So think about it, he said, carefully hiding his emotions underneath the veneer of indifference and attitude.

                You lay back down and finally, truly, think about it.

*

                Hongjoong promptly vanishes the next two days. You have never noticed his absence before, always enjoying having a roommate that didn’t spend a lot of time at home. But with the last conversation being so serious, the silence feels intentional as if he is worried hanging around will create some sort of pressure on the choice you need to make.

                With your old job winding down and the move mostly organized and settled, you spend a lot of time thinking about sleeping with Hongjoong. You carefully weigh the pros and cons, you consider what it would do to any possible friendship you could have with him after the move, and then you think about how he more than likely has been interested in you for years and just would never say anything about it. In fact, he seems content to let you go without asking you to go out on a date.

                With anyone else, you’d assume this is because he is more interested in using you to rip the ‘virgin’ label off him. However, you know your roommate well enough to be aware that he wouldn’t act like that. In suggesting this to you, and mentioning his earlier anxiety about having sex, you believe that his feelings for you just make the entire process simpler and less stressful. He seems to be aware that, up until now, you have never looked at him in anything other than the light of a roommate and he didn’t want to ruin that by telling you of his affections.

                But tonight, you texted him asking to talk and a few hours later, a little after eight pm, the front door of the apartment opens and you hear Hongjoong’s boots against the floor. You are nervous, unsure how this is going to play out. There is silence and then a hard knock on the door.

                After telling him to come in, he opens the door and hovers in the entrance. Tonight he’s wearing a white button up and as usual, it is a little too large for him. It is purposely untucked although he has a black belt looped around it, smushing the fabric against his waist. His jeans don’t even have any holes in them and his nails are freshly painted black.

                “Wow,” You say by way of greeting, “You look almost presentable.”

                He rolls his eyes but the corners of his lips quirk up for a second. “New exhibit at the museum started and sometimes the staff gets bitchy if the people going during the opening week don’t look super presentable. There’s no official dress code there but you know what I mean. I didn’t feel like having a lot of old people gawk at me while I was looking at the paintings.”

                 “Right, I understand.”

                There is a beat of silence. Hongjoong leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. You can almost see the walls going up as he prepares for rejection.

                “Anyway, you wanted to talk?” He prompts.

                You wish he wasn’t on the other side of the room while you sit on your bed. But you know better than to make Hongjoong feel cornered, especially with such a sensitive discussion on the table.

                “I wanted to talk about our conversation the other day. I’ve been thinking a lot about it.”

                “Alright…” He trails off, quickly masking the sudden insecurity that is hitting him by darting his eyes away from you.

                You inhale slowly and then go, “I want to. If you still are interested, I mean.”

                Hongjoong’s eyes snap back in your direction, the surprise written all over his face. The vulnerability shown there takes you by surprise, a glimpse underneath his cool exterior that you weren’t prepared for.

                But then the look is gone, replaced with that typical hard expression. He narrows his eyes, pushing away from the doorframe and towards you. “Do you mean it? You’re not just saying this because you feel pressured? Because it’s fine if you don’t want to.”

                “I don’t feel pressured. I want to.”     

                “Why?” His tone is laced with hostility, another defense mechanism he’s deploying in navigating this conversation.

                Hongjoong stands in front of you now, smelling of clean laundry and his familiar cologne still clinging to his skin. Tilting your face to look upwards at him, you speak.

                “Because your logic makes sense. If it’s awkward or terrible, I’m moving and we don’t ever have to see one another again. We’ve known each other for years. I’m comfortable with you. And…” You steel yourself for the next comment, unsure how he will take it. “And I figured it out. How you feel about me.”

                Hongjoong goes very still, staring at you with a careful blank stare on his face. But for all his attempts at coming off indifferent, he flexes the fingers of his right hand to try to steady his nerves.

                You continue to talk, although it is in a bit of a faster voice than before, nervous Hongjoong is going to take something the wrong way and leave. “I know you didn’t mean for me to learn that you might see more as more than friends or a roommate. I only realized it after you asked me about sleeping together. I understand your reasoning more now; it isn’t just about the fact I am moving away. Your feelings about me make the entire thing a little more comfortable, a little less anxiety inducing. I get it.”

                “I don’t want you sleeping with me out of pity,” He replies stiffly.

                “I’m not.”

                “How is this not pity?” He says hotly.

                “Because you told me to think about it. About being with you. So, I thought about it.”

                “And?” He demands, refusing to budge from his hostility.

                You take a steadying breath and bring your hands carefully forward, gently grabbing onto the belt around his waist, giving it a small tug to bring Hongjoong closer. “And I want you,” You say simply.

                Something in his fragile face seems to shift at the words, like small cracks in fine china. One second, he stands in front of you defensive and on edge. In the next second, he is bending down to cup your cheeks in his hands, his lips hot against yours. You gasp in surprise, muffled in the kiss. Even with all your daydreaming about him since his admission of being a virgin, the reality of Hongjoong kissing you is a bit surreal.

                Your hands grip his belt, pulling on it to lead him onto the bed as you lay back against the pillows, not breaking the kiss. His tongue slips in your mouth and there is heat growing in your body like a slow wave. You weren’t expecting the kiss to be this intense, unsure what it would be like to actually have him in this manner.

                The kiss ends suddenly and Hongjoong is peering closely at your face. His breathing is uneven and his normally guarded expression is open with all the concerns and worries floating around in his head.

                You are slightly disoriented from the kiss, wondering why he stopped.

                “Do you want to keep going?” He asks in a soft voice, the softest you’ve heard from him.

                You swallow hard, disbelieving that he does not see the impact the kiss had on you. “Yeah, unless…unless you’re having second thoughts.”

                “I’m not,” He goes and there is that same defiance creeping back in his tone, that jagged edge of his personality you have grown so accustomed to over the years. “I just wasn’t sure if you were.”

                “I’m not, Joong. I want – I mean, you can kiss me again. If you want.”

                His lips are back against yours, not requiring another suggestion nor word from you. This time, your hands circle around his waist, bunching the fabric of his shirt in your hands, holding onto him while continuing to kiss. All that making out must have paid off because Hongjoong’s kisses are the type that leave you breathless, your heart thrumming in your chest like a trapped bird.

                But he sticks to kissing and it strikes you that he is not going to be as in charge or bossy as you previously thought. He is simply too shy to act on what he wants, tying into his story about his anxiety and how it kept him from losing his virginity.

                You begin to kiss along his jawline and down his neck. The touch makes him shiver and you realize how sensitive he is. Carefully, you bring one hand upwards to his hair, the blue strands curling around your fingers, feeling the softness against your skin. Hongjoong’s breath hitches; it is a foreign sound to you, something entirely brand new from a person you believed to know almost everything about.

                “Does that feel nice?” You ask quietly in between kissing along his neck.

                Hongjoong makes a soft humming noise in response, a mixture of too shy and too turned on to speak. Carefully, you change positions so that he is now underneath your body. You’re straddling him, leaning forward to drape your body against his, finding his lips once more. His hands tentatively move along your sides, just brushing underneath your shirt to touch bare skin.

                Your body shivers from the slight touch which seems to give Hongjoong confidence because his fingers trail upwards, underneath your shirt and stopping right where your bra begins. He is stiff in his jeans and it is difficult to hold back and not grind down against his body just to hear what your roommate sounds like turned on.

                Moving your hand away from Hongjoong’s hair, you bring it to meet where his hovers. Carefully, you cover his hand with yours, allowing it to travel upwards to your bra. His breathing has quickened as he begins to grope you. Shyly, his other hand comes to your chest, squeezing your tits as you resume kissing him.

                Your tongue is in his mouth and your brain is overrun by the scent of him, the sensation of his hands, how he feels underneath your body. You’re wet, you realize with a jolt, turned on by Hongjoong and the gentle unraveling of him occurring so close to you.

                The kiss breaks and this time you’re studying Hongjoong’s face. There is a hint of colour in his cheeks, his lips are flushed from all the making out and he has one tiny hickey already forming on the delicate skin of his neck. You don’t even recall giving it to him.

                The expression in his eyes is one of an unraveling – his typical tough guy posture is being pulled away like a cover off a painting, exposing the centre of Hongjoong in a way that you have never seen before.

                The desire to see Hongjoong completely undone hits you squarely in the chest. It is a powerful urge to see what he looks and sounds like when he is experiencing intense pleasure. You pull off your t-shirt, tossing it to the side. Hongjoong swallows hard, eyes widening while you unclasp your bra and bring his hands back up to your bare breasts.

                He seems entranced with groping them, brushing his fingertips across your nipples. When it makes you shiver, he repeats the action, clearly studying what makes you react the most. You’re swiftly undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, stopping to remove his belt which drops off the bed with a clatter. He sits up slightly as you peel it off his shoulders, removing it entirely and leaving Hongjoong bare chested.

                Running your hands down his chest, you take in the sight of his toned chest and hard abdomen. Experimentally, you rock your hips just a little, just enough to put some pressure on his groin. He inhales sharply, eyes closing for a moment. Hongjoong is a delicate thing underneath you, sensitive to any and all pleasure that is entirely brand new to him.

                You slide off him, kicking off your shorts and unzipping his pants. He lifts his hips to allow them to be removed, leaving him in just his boxers. Your gaze turns to Hongjoong, making sure he is doing okay. There is a look of determination in his eyes to keep going although there is still the same hint of vulnerability that grows stronger every time an article of clothing is removed.

                “You wanna keep going?” You check in.

                Hongjoong nods firmly although his voice is soft when replying, “Don’t stop.”

                Your hand glides over his thigh and up to his boxers, rubbing him gently. There is a small moan from him, so quiet as if he is holding back. You squeeze his cock through the boxers and his eyes close tightly, mumbling a curse under his breath.

                Slowly, you pull down his boxers, freeing his cock from them. Hongjoong is stiff and warm, the heavy weight of his length against his stomach. You wrap your hand around his cock and he whimpers. Having never heard such a noise from him before, you stop, letting him get used to the sensation.

                But Hongjoong doesn’t seem to be interested in stopping because in a breathless voice he goes, “P-please.”

                Hearing him so desperate leaves you unable to refuse. You spit in the palm of your hand and slowly stroke Hongjoong’s length, fighting the urge to take him in your mouth. But you don’t want to overwhelm Hongjoong with too much, not now, not for his first time. Instead, you lean forward and plant one kiss on the tip which elicits a groan from your roommate.

                “Is there a certain way you’d like to do this?” You ask, wanting him to make all the choices.

                Hongjoong opens his eyes, casting a look downward while you stroke his length. His breathing is shallow, his pupils blown out with desire and his blue hair framing his elegant face.

                “Just…if you could…” His shyness is growing by the second, completely unlike every conversation you’ve ever had before with him, “If you could be on top,” He finishes quickly, the colour in his cheeks deepening.

                You’re surprised again at how Hongjoong is like putty in your hands, so swift to give over all control and let you lead the process. For someone who is usually outspoken and bossy, this turn is enticing. Seeing your roommate crumble from every touch makes the pull towards him even more acute.

                Slipping your underwear off, you straddle Hongjoong. His cock presses in between your folds and he moans again. His blue hair is splayed against the pillow, a bright splash of electric ocean that only highlights his small frame and tender appearance.

                Positioning yourself so that his cock is at your entrance, you lower your hips. His cock pushes inside your wet hole and Hongjoong groans louder, his head rolling back as the pleasure engulfs his length. He enters easily, your pussy slick with juices from just exploring and touching him. When he is fully inside your cunt, you go still, letting him get used to being inside you.

                Hongjoong is unspooling in front of you. All the previous hostile energy he used to protect himself is gone. The fragility on display now is both a turn on and endearing. His bandaged hand grips the bed sheets, his eyes fluttering open to look at you. The colour deepens across his cheeks, making him look almost like a sunset across the ocean.

                You lean forward and kiss him. He tilts his face to meet your lips, the desperation evident in how he moves his tongue and the way he is trembling underneath your body. You still don’t move your hips, enjoying the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock buried in you.

                He is kissing along your jaw and down your neck, growing bold enough to bring his hands around your back, gently indicating to move forward a little. As you do so, your pussy tightens around his cock and Hongjoong groans again as his lips find your nipples, placing one in your mouth so he can suck on them. Your hands are next to his head, gripping the sheets as you begin to move your hips back, starting to ride him.

                Hongjoong switches to your other nipple, his teeth grazing the skin as he gropes your other breast with his hand. When he slips your nipple out of his mouth, his hands go to your shoulders, pulling you back down so that he can kiss you again. Your lips meet his hungrily as the rocking of your hips steadily increases. His tongue is messy in your mouth, his hands against your back, a whimpering mess with each movement taken.

                You pull away, straightening out on top of him, beginning to properly bounce on his cock now. All the years of being roommates are wiped away by the sight of Hongjoong delirious with pleasure. His hands glide down to your hips as the noises tumble from his lips. Hongjoong is not quiet in the slightest; there is none of the silenced pleasure you are so used to having from your past lovers. His eyes are closed once more and his eyelashes lay against his skin like small whisps of a raven’s feathers. He arches his hips at one point as you sink down on his cock and your hands lay flat against his stomach. The muscles are hard underneath your fingers and your speed increases, driving your pussy down faster to get a stronger reaction out of Hongjoong.

                It works. Whatever else residing in his brain is quickly wiped away from how good it feels. He curses loudly, his eyes opening to reveal a hazy expression of lust and desire. A strand of his blue hair lays across his forehead, his tongue pokes out from in between his lips, and his grip tightens on your hips. He is a mess, each ragged gasp and whimper his way of wishing that the pleasure would never stop, a desperate plea to extend this moment forever. It is difficult to merge the Hongjoong underneath you – the one with the flushed skin, ragged breathing and slender frame trembling – as your roommate who punched a guy from mouthing off the other night, the same man who showed no hesitation in telling someone off for the slightest mistake.

                It is even trickier to accept that it is you making him feel this way. You are unsure what Hongjoong pictured for his first time but did he know how he would crumble when put against your body? Did he know that everything would be this intense due to a mixture of his feelings for you and how long you’ve known one another? Was he aware of how he would be a writhing whimpering man far removed from how he acted in public?

                His jaw is clenched as he gasps out, “I’m gonna – I’m so close,” With desperation he pulls at you, bringing your body against his as he pleads, “Kiss me.”

                Your lips are hot on his, the kiss desperate, your tongues pressing together as you bring your hips down one final time. Hongjoong’s groan is muffled as he begins his climax. He clings to you, his arms around your back, fingernails gently pressing into your skin. The kiss ends and you watch as Hongjoong submits completely to his orgasm, erasing all signs of the roommate you once thought you knew. You can feel his warm cum in your cunt, the beautiful vulnerability of his facial expressions as he submits to the dizzying high of the climax.

                Hongjoong’s hands slide off your back, his breathing hard and fast as he tries to wipe the haze from his brain. Carefully, you move off his lap, laying down next to him. Your eyes rake across his body, admiring his small frame, his chest and messy hair. He opens his eyes and turns onto his side, propping himself up a little to stare at you. His eyebrow piercing glints in the light.

                You are unsure how to start the conversation. How do you ask your roommate if losing his virginity was enjoyable? His cum is leaking out of your pussy, something you never thought would happen. Casual conversation at this point seems asinine.

                But before you can utter a word, Hongjoong looks crossed and goes, “You didn’t cum.”

                The ever familiar expression of hostility creeps back across his pretty face, a signal to a return to form. The satisfaction that just obliterated his earlier composure is swiftly replaced by a petulant expression.

                “Oh,” You’re surprised, not thinking he noticed nor care so much, “I mean, this was more about you than me…” You trail off, taking note of his frown.

                “Who said that?” He demands, “Just teach me.”

                “Teach you what?”

                A tiny bit of timidity creeps back into his eyes but he resolutely pushes through it and goes, “How to eat your pussy.”

                It’s the dirtiest thing Hongjoong has ever said to you and momentarily renders you speechless. Finally, you nod, moving back among the pillows. Hongjoong doesn’t waste a moment, shifting so that he is in front of you. His hands are on your thighs and he gently spreads your legs apart. Having him looking at your pussy which still has his cum leaking out of it feels incredibly intimate and you’re thrown off by the sudden timidness that is sweeping over you.

                Hongjoong’s cheeks are flushing with colour again but the expression on his face is one of determination and a growing passion. He brings two fingers down along your slit, spreading your lips apart just enough to take in the sight of his cum in your hole.

                In a shaky voice, he goes, “You have a pretty pussy.” You are unsure if it is nerves making his voice quake, lust or a mixture of both. He slips his fingers in his mouth for a couple of seconds and then brings one to your entrance, pushing it inside. “Is that okay?”

                You nod but then realize Hongjoong is too busy staring at the way you’re taking his finger. “Y-yeah, that’s perfect.”

                “I like pushing my load back in you,” His voice is soft and tentative, dirty talk being something new to him, but you give him credit for pushing through his anxiety, “It looks good.”

                You bring your hand down to your clit, rubbing it a little while saying, “Bring your tongue here –” The rest of your explanation is cut off as Hongjoong doesn’t waste a second, lowering his face to your pussy and rolling his tongue across your clit.

                You curse in surprise as Hongjoong’s tongue presses against your nub, his finger pumping in your hole slowly. At first, his movements are a little awkward and unsure but with more guiding, he switches to flicking his tongue across your clit while inserting a second finger. This feels much better and Hongjoong seems pleased to hear the moans that are flowing freely from your mouth now.

                He fucks you faster with his fingers, burying them inside you. Your pussy is a mess of his cum and your wetness and as his pace accelerates, so do the lewd noises of your hole taking him. At one point, he pulls away to watch how your hole is wrapped around his fingers. He looks entranced and when he suddenly looks up, his face is covered in you and his cheeks are a deep pink.

                “Am I…am I doing okay?” He asks, unsure of himself.

                “Yes,” You breathe out, “Can you fuck me faster? And try sucking on my clit.”

                Hongjoong, apparently ever obedient in bed, wraps his lips around your swollen clit while picking up the speed of his finger thrusts. You gasp, your hand going to his hair, curling it around your fingertips. You quietly urge him to keep going, noticing that each compliment you give him only seems to make Hongjoong more determined to bring you to climax. Out of all the interesting things you’re learning about your roommate today, finding out he has an affinity to being complimented for doing a good job has to be the most surprising.

                “Don’t stop, Joong,” You plead as his fingers are buried in your cunt and he is switching between sucking and flicking his tongue over your clit as your thighs shake, “Please, you’re doing such a good job.”

                He makes a noise that is almost a sigh of contentment, not stopping for a moment. Your climax begins with one final movement of his tongue. Between his fingers and how he works your clit, you lose yourself to Hongjoong. Your grip on his hair tightens as the bliss reaches its peak. His name tumbles from your lips as he stops touching your clit and instead slips his tongue inside your hole. The slurping sounds are obscene yet he doesn’t seem to care. It is only when your orgasm finally subsides that your hold on his hair releases and you are trying to catch your breath.

                A second later, Hongjoong’s head pops up in your vision, his expression as earnest as you’ve ever seen it. “Was that good? Did I do a good job?”

                You know that it’ll be a secret taken to your grave that Hongjoong turns into a needy little thing in bed. You would never want to ruin his reputation.

                In response, you reach out, yanking him down so that the two of you are kissing. He makes a noise of surprise but returns the kiss immediately. He tastes like your arousal; he tastes like you want more of him.

*

                Stepping back into your room after cleaning up, now dressed back in your clothes, Hongjoong is just finishing doing up the last button on his dress shirt. He glances up at your entrance. His face is back in its usual neutral expression although the way his fingers shake against the button betrays his real emotions.

                “Are you leaving?” You ask curiously.

                Hongjoong nods. “Yeah, got some stuff to do.” He’s lying and you know it but don’t want to press things.

                Yet you still wonder what happens now. Knowing about his feelings for you combined with the sexual chemistry, you think it would be a shame if things just really ended here. You hadn’t expected sex to be that enjoyable nor had you thought that Hongjoong unraveling underneath your body would have looked so good.

                “Joong, before you go…”

                He looks up from zipping up his jeans, his belt hanging loosely in between his fingers. His eyes are guarded, his disposition wary. All the walls are back up.

                “Yeah?”

                “Well, I mean, is that just…it? You ‘lost’ your virginity and I just move out and we barely talk anymore?”

                His brow furrows, his piercings glinting as he walks towards you. You aren’t sure why you’re pressing this discussion now minus a gut feeling that if you don’t do it at this very moment, Hongjoong is going to slip out the front door because his vulnerability will lead him to clamming up. You’ll move out and probably never see him again.

                His back is against the doorframe, his gaze heavy on yours. His shirt hangs off him loosely, the front dipping to reveal the top of his chest. The hickey has darkened against his skin.

                “What else is there?” He juts his chin out but a flicker of anxiety in his eyes exposes him.

                “I liked being with you. It felt good and…” Slightly embarrassing to admit this aloud but you keep going, “I like you. I realized it when you were underneath me. I know you have feelings for me. Why can’t we see where this goes after I move out?”

                He looks surprised but quickly covers it up with a cocky expression, poking his finger against your hip. “You want me to ask you out on a date, don’t you?”

                “Well…yes.”

                Another poke. “You had that much fun with me?”

                “You’re fishing for compliments now.”

                “You were quick to give them out when we were fucking,” He retorts, “Why can’t I get any now?”

                “Because you’re back to being Mr. Cool Guy and I thought you don’t want any compliments unless someone is like ‘nice right hook’ or something.”

                His hand comes to a stop on your hip, looking at you with the expression of a cat that just found a glass of milk unattended. “Come out with me on a date.”

                Hongjoong has looked at you a thousand times over the years but never quite so openly as he is right now. You can feel it all the way down to your toes and it throws you completely off balance. The dichotomy of him during sex and outside of sex makes the magnetic pull stronger.

                “Okay,” You say simply as his hand snakes to your lower back and pushes you forward just enough so that he is pressing against your body, “O-oh!” You gasp in surprise and then quickly try to brush it off with the question, “What are we gonna do on the date?”

                “Don’t worry, we’ll do the typical tedious date shit,” His eyes drop to your lower half before raising one eyebrow, “Maybe afterwards though, I can do what I did earlier. I gotta admit that it was pretty fun to hear you be that loud just because of my tongue,” He leans forward, bringing his lips close to your ear, “And you tasted good too.”

                Your head spins, surprised at how easily Hongjoong can bounce back from being such a whimpering mess to openly flirting about eating you out. But Hongjoong has always displayed a cocky exterior and it didn’t look like that was going to magically change. You’re also taken aback by how weak in the knees you feel.

                Swatting his hand away, you take a step back, hoping he can’t tell how flustered you are or you’ll never hear the end of it. “Didn’t you have somewhere to be?”

                “I was lying to get out of here in case the conversation got awkward,” He openly admits, looping his belt through his jeans, shaking his blue hair out of his eyes, “But now I’m actually hungry. You wanna grab something to eat with me? Strictly in a roommate capacity.”

                “Sure. Let me get ready real quick.”

                “Alright,” He turns to walk out of your room but stops when you say his name, looking over his shoulder, “What?”

                “Do you feel any different? Now that you’re not a virgin, I mean.”

                Hongjoong looks thoughtful for a moment and then shrugs. “Nah, I feel the same. I guess because I lost it to you.” The words take you by surprise and there is a small hint of colour on his cheeks at the admission. “It just felt natural with you. You’re ah…always the one I wanted to lose it with,” He scowls then as if disgusted by opening up in such a manner, “Come on, go change. I’m seriously starving.”

                You watch him leave, shutting the door behind him. In the quiet space of your room, you press your fingers against your chest, feeling the thrum of your heart. Maybe it had been easy to overlook Hongjoong all these years due to the formality of being roommates.

                But it is evident to your mind and body that you are no longer overlooking your vulnerable yet prideful roommate thanks to his drunken declaration a few nights ago.

                Lucky you.

the end.

Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multiland - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @likexaxdaydream - @senpai-of-doom - @halazea - @moonsangie - @woosfantasy - @yungiology - @erensluut - @yeosang-dot-mp3 - @lvnateez - @carodrug - @fruitcakebin - @yyakitori - @salam2salang - @cath1418 - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @pyeonghongrie-main - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @cherrypandora - @almondmilkeu - @kitten4sannie - @leo-seonghwa - @silentcry329 - @shesinthrain - @northerngalxy - @ateezstanforever - @yourfatherlucifer - @jagiyaracha - @myyyshinelight - @marievllr-abg - @kibs-and-bits - @ddeonghwassimp - @oizyscherry - @lil-killer-kitten - @necessiteez - @lmnhead - @thesongofalyssa - @orithyia-eriphyle - @turtash - @mingigiggles - @tvxqnnie - @biddes-enthusiast - @seonghwasmuffin - sorry, it didn't let me tag some of yall.

[ivystoryweaver]

Perfect Fit (Volume 2 of 3)

(you read that right I'm a liar as usual)

"And that simmering resentment burns, turning over inside you, fueling…pure lust."

Read Volume 1 || Perfect Fit Masterlist

Pairing: Nathan Bateman from Ex Machina x f!reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Read volume 1 first. You are staying at Nathan's secluded home, part of an ongoing experiment that involves a lot of sex with him and his lookalike android Nate. But who is who, and are you truly safe?

Content: MDNI, NSFW, you are responsible for your reading. (more below the cut) Nathan Bateman should be warning enough

Content/Warnings: sci-fi horror elements, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, voyeurism, degradation AND praise, creampie, cum eating, spitting, nipple play, impact play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral-m rec., anal sex, group sex, dub con related to gaslighting, sex with AI/androids, language, other sci-fi nonsense, violence, wounds, blood, not beta'd

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

"Here, taste this." You offer an oversized spoon to Nate so he can sample the vegan stew you've been working on all morning. The aroma permeates the air around you, and your stomach releases a symphony of anticipatory grumbles.

The android smirks, but it's playful, not condescending, like his creator. "You know I don't eat. Sounds like you need to, though."

"You can taste, can't you?" You challenge, nodding for him to at least bring it to his tongue.

He wets his lips, dark eyes flickering from your face down the curves of your body. "Yeah, I can taste, sweetheart." His tongue darts out to swipe over his plush lips for good measure.

"Jesus, you're as bad as Nathan," you huff, only half serious anyway. Shrugging one shoulder, you sip the stew yourself, humming at the hearty flavor. "More for me."

Nate regards you carefully for a moment before dutifully reaching into the cupboard for two bowls. "I want to, you know... Eat."

"I'm sure Nathan could make it happen," you nonchalantly reply. "I mean, there are certainly fluids that come out of your body as it is."

"Nicely put, sweetheart," Nate chuckles, presenting the bowls to you. "Nathan couldn't have said it better, I'm sure."

"Fuck you," you tease, bumping him with your hip, nodding toward the twin bowls he's offered. "Why two? Nathan eating with us?"

"You never know."

Nate was right. Determining what Nathan would or would not do, or where he might even turn up was a bit of mystery lately. You were starting to believe you all lived in a modernized house from the board game Clue - complete with mysteries and secret passages.

Nathan disappeared and reappeared at the oddest times.

But there's Nate. He's...softer. He smiles more than Nathan - laughs, even. There's a tender warmth in those earthy eyes. Or Nate's letting you think there is. Or perhaps Nathan's letting you think it. You can't be entirely sure.

Life is like this lately. Nate cooks with you, talks with you - not just at you - plays Scrabble with you, sometimes even Uno - your favorite. (Nathan doesn't even consider it a real game). You work out, swim, hike, fuck - like, a lot, watch movies, take baths...

Nate does everything a regular person might do, except use a digestive system. If Nathan really is trying to pass him off as human, you're not sure why he has withheld this particular function from his creation.

And your role as Nathan's employee has never been more ambiguous. In fact, you haven't done any actual work in a few weeks, unless spending copious amounts of domestic and coital time on camera was in your job description. (Knowing Nathan, it was.)

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Nate has been venturing into your bedroom at night anytime he wants. You haven't told him no. In fact, you usually roll over and play with your toy.

This is what Nathan wants, right? For you to 'use him', to see if Nate can pass as a human? All while Nathan watches.

So you give him a show. This is apparently your work, although it feels like extended holiday.

Forget sleep. You can sleep whenever this weird, once-in-a-lifetime fuckfest ends and you are flown out of here, back to your humdrum life.

In the meantime, there's a very eager cock hard and ready as you sink down and slowly start to ride him. The stretch of him inside you pulls a moaning sigh from your lips.

Nate's hands rove all over you - thick fingers gripping your thighs, pushing up over your abdomen to cup your breasts. He likes to make you feel good - that's what he tells you anyway, as his thumbs swipe your sensitive nipples.

And this is a possible way you think you're able to tell Nate apart from Nathan.

Nathan is always about Nathan. Oh, he knows what he's doing in bed and you like everything he does. But it's for him. Everything is, always.

Nate seems different.

Probably all in your head, but as he pushes the pad of his thumb over your clit, you can't find it in you to care either way.

Besides, you keep proving Nathan wrong, at least by your own estimation, and that brings its on brand of pleasure. See, you've figured out that Nate's ego, although nearly a match for his maker's, is his weakness - or, if not a weakness, then it's at least a foolproof way to determine which "twin" is bottomed out inside your cunt.

Rolling over with him still inside, you relax while he pleasures you eagerly.

"Show me how fast you can move," is all it takes for a clearly non-human Nate to turn into your personal vibrating toy.

He looks like Nathan - feels just as good, with the same thick cock - the expanse of his defined shoulders, toned chest, corded neck that seems to invite your tongue to lave over it hungrily - but...Nate is ultimately a machine. He has more stamina and he can move in ways his master cannot...when Nathan allows it, of course.

At your urging, Nate's cock plunges inside you and you verbally "coax" his setting to high. Your Nathan-shaped toy makes you scream in ecstasy as he vibrates your pussy through a rapid orgasm, your body shaking with a euphoric rush that keeps you happily entangled in this experiment. While building toward another, Nate abruptly powers down.

The muscled weight of him pins you to the bed, leaving you not only unsatisfied, but trapped. You call for help, but you hear nothing for the next few seconds.

"Nathan, I know you're watching, you asshole," you huff, finding it a little difficult to breathe underneath the android's dead weight, let alone yell. "Get him off me." You hope Nathan's watching, anyway. You haven't laid eyes on him in a week.

You almost tremble with relief as Nathan strolls in a couple minutes later, shirtless, with black joggers hanging low on his hips.

"Something wrong, babydoll?" He casually taunts, pushing his wire frames up his nose. He gestures dramatically at his creation. "Your little toy malfunction?"

"Nathan, come on," you practically wheeze.

He snorts, and with a determined head shake, rolls the android off your body - Nate's inanimate form thumping on the bed beside you.

Then that damn question - your weakness: "You okay, sweetheart?" Easing down to hover over you, Nathan cages you in with his muscular arms, mustering a puppy eyed countenance that could almost count as concern.

"Like you give a shit," you somewhat playfully whine, squirming underneath him, pounding your fists against his chest in a dramatic pout - when in actuality, you're thrilled to see him. "You did that on purpose."

"That so?" He volleys, dark eyebrows shooting up patronizingly as he drags his fingers through your soaked folds. "He's been malfunctioning - you know this." His middle finger plunges inside you effortlessly while his thumb languidly toys with your clit.

You make no effort to stop him. If he's going to manipulate you, you might as well enjoy it - your mantra. Or maybe your excuse to endure it all.

"I don't know 'this'," you refute - your words weakly attempting to sting as your body shifts receptively to meet the thrusting of his fingers, moaning deeply as he slides two more fingers inside you and curls them forward, into that spongy softness deep within. "Where have you been? Do you seriously spend all day watching us like a TV show?"

Yanking his digits right back out, Nathan smacks your wet cunt as a warning. The sting jolts your body, as pain skitters along every nerve ending, but you crave his attention so desperately, your pussy drips, yearning for friction.

"You know how busy I am," he warns, but you moan at the rough stimulation of your clit as he smacks you again.

"Fuck me or get out of my room," you snarl, shoving at his shoulders.

He actually laughs. "Such a needy whore." He tuts condescendingly before shrugging his bare shoulders. "You don't want answers - fine, I'll put my mouth to better use."

You naturally assume Nathan plans to eat you out but he climbs back up your body and rests his elbows on either side of your head, holding his weight off you. Reaching up with his fingers, he pulls his wire frames off his face and tosses them on Nate's bare, inanimate chest.

On any other man, these stunning, deep brown eyes would melt you on the spot. And they almost do now as he holds your gaze, touching his forehead to yours.

"I have missed you," he murmurs, rendering you speechless.

Then he kisses you.

And...fuck, it's a good kiss. The heat of his breath ghosts your cheek as his fuzzy beard tickles your chin. His lips - a scandalously soft contrast to the rest of him - invite yours open, into a tangle of breath and the wet thrust of his tongue over yours.

His thumb traces the contour of your jaw with deceptive tenderness as he settles on top of you. You part for air and he stares down into your eyes, his prominent nose brushing against yours. His mouth meets yours again and you feel the weight of his clothed cock push against your drenched cunt.

He knows you like to be kissed. And how you like it.

He kisses you and kisses you and grinds the soft cotton of his joggers over your clit, dragging, agonizingly slowly, back and forth, sending sparks of pleasure and desire surging along every nerve ending as he shares your breath, cradling your face and licking into you so hotly...

And he keeps you here for an eternity - steadily grinding, making out with you like a teenager in his bedroom.

If he's taking scientific notes, which he always does - he will note that it takes you 27 minutes to come like this. He never gives you anything else, but his mouth and the steady tickle and drag over your clit as he dry humps you.

He controls the pace, because, of course he does. And you remain at his mercy, willingly.

Your back arches in rapture and he tears his mouth from yours to watch you fall apart underneath him.

Then he gets what he wants when you moan and whimper his name.

His name.

Okay, personal vibrating fuck toys aside, this was pure paradise. Your chest heaves as you attempt to catch your breath - your chest rising and falling deliciously as you come back to yourself.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," Nathan groans appreciatively.

When your eyes finally, lazily peel open, you find him standing on his knees over you, joggers shoved down past the swell of his ample hips, jerking himself to the sight of you attempting to catch your breath.

Out of habit, you reach for his cock to help finish him off, but he gently brushes your hand away. "Just lie there," he instructs, vigorously working his dextrous fingers over the heavy length of his weeping cock. "Look fucking perfect, babydoll. Stay right there. Gonna come on your tits."

You moan his name again, locking eyes with him and thrusting your breasts out purposely before reaching to toy with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers.

"Such a dirty slut," he grunts, wetting his lips at the sight of you fondling yourself. It only takes a few more strokes for him to spill his thick ropes of cum all over you, as promised, delicious sounds rumbling out of his broad chest as the warmth of him coats your skin.

Wetting your lips, you take advantage of his split second of sated vulnerability and decide to tease him, spreading his cum all over your breasts with your fingers.

"Better clean you up," he says, before commanding Nate to power on.

Malfunctioning, your ass. Nathan probably powered the android down on purpose earlier.

"Suck her tits. Clean her up," Nathan commands, nodding toward your chest.

Nate complies, gazing down at you briefly before lowering his lips to your nipple and swirling his tongue over the pebbled flesh, swiping through a glob of Nathan's spend.

Nathan chuckles, amused, before easing down to capture your other nipple. Both men latch onto your tits, swirling their tongues and sucking you vigorously.

"Oh my god," you moan, writhing underneath them, wondering how you could possibly want anything more after a couple of orgasms this evening.

Nathan starts up again, reaching for your cunt, knowing how overstimulated you are. He's been testing your limits lately. Before you can protest, however, Nate pulls off your tit with a pop, easing up to nuzzle your neck and breathe on your ear.

"You okay, baby?"

You smile at him adoringly, Nathan notes - then responds, naughtily cramming four fingers roughly into your pussy.

"Nathan, hold on," you gasp, reaching for his arm. "It's too much. I need a second."

Slowly removing his hand, he scoffs, pinching your nipple hard with his free hand, causing you to hiss in surprise.

"Give her a damn second," Nate echoes, earning a glare from his maker.

Nathan immediately powers him down again; only this time Nate doesn't land on top of you.

"Would you stop that?" You huff, working your arm free of Nate's deadened grasp. "Your god complex, I swear."

Nathan stares at you blankly for thirty straight seconds. You're unsure if you've ever heard him shut the hell up for this long while fully conscious.

"Have fun with your toy," he spits, stalking out of the room.

You groan in frustration. Nathan is such a child sometimes. Nate was only trying to listen to you - to watch out for you.

All right, maybe you haven't been fair to Nate. You've been using him as a life-sized vibrator, but he really does seem to care.

Your mind briefly drifts to the dozens of times he's drawn you a hot bath, washed your body in the shower, made sure you had plenty of water to drink, used a damp cloth to clean you. His aftercare game is next level. He likes to whisper on your neck and hold you while you fall asleep.

Ugh, what is happening to you?

The notion of you having feelings for an android is just...not okay. Also, the idea of you having feelings for a narcissistic mad scientist like Nathan is nothing short of a recipe for disaster...or maybe heartbreak. That is, if your heart is even in it.

Is it?

At first, there was nothing about Nathan you particularly cared for on a personal level - aside from his genius. He's not even really your type.

Obnoxiously rich? Not your style. Narcissistic? Hell no.

Every word out of his mouth makes you roll your eyes. The fact that his gorgeous hair is shaved off while he has an annoyingly long beard is ridiculous nonsense. The reasoning for him wearing wire framed glasses of all looks, and doesn’t wear contacts, or hasn’t had LASIK surgery with his wealth, is absurd.

Probably doesn’t trust anyone to touch his eyes. Altough this won’t stop him from sticking his dick into damn near anything, especially if he invented it.

Sometimes the mere sound of his voice makes you tense up. No one loves the sound of his own rambling more than he does. He probably stands in the mirror and talks to himself. He probably has Nate repeat back to him everything he just said simply so he can hear the sound of his own voice.

He knows everything about everything. A maven. But not. He actually really knows. It’s infuriating.

He’s perfect. He’s active, he’s healthy, his body is a machine as much as Nate’s: eat, sleep, fuck, exercise. But instead of seeing the need to exercise as a of human deficit, (whereas Nate was built to be perfect), Nathan sees it at some sort of basic human function. He performs it without question and it keeps him in excellent condition.

Other times, you could listen to him talk for hours but you hate yourself for giving him the pleasure of your undivided attention. You like to imagine a world where he might actually value you as more than a warm body or a sounding board - something to reflect Nathan back to Nathan - but you know it will never happen. And right when you convince yourself that you are worth more than all this -

Worth more than exhilarating hikes in breathtaking nature, healthy food, stimulating conversation and work, plenty of rest, a near perfect sexual companion?

Wait, what were you complaining about again?

At any rate, right as you start to remind yourself how dangerous and self-centered Nathan really is, he always shows you tenderness - asks your opinion, checks to see if you’re okay.

Even then, he’s always right. He’s the doctor who prescribes exactly what you need to get you back into “working condition” for him. It’s always about him.

And that simmering resentment burns, turning over inside you, fueling…pure lust.

Fuck this.

Grabbing an oversized t-shirt from the end of your bed, you yank it over your head, and follow.

"Nathan, wait!" You call, jogging down the hallway after him, but he's already out of sight.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

You find him the next morning in the kitchen, looking a little more bundled up than his typical short sleeved polo shirt or too-loose tank top.

"I'm going for a hike," he announces, taking what appears to be the last swig of a protein shake.

He washes the glass out in the sink before leaning against the counter. Folding his muscled arms over his chest, he gives you a once over. "Wanna come?"

You stare at him for a moment. "You...want me to come hiking with you?"

The question is barely out of your mouth before he groans. "Why do you make me repeat myself?"

"Because...I never see you anymore," you return his condescension, as if it should be obvious. "I don't even do any work for you, or with you. What am I doing here, Nathan?"

He glares at you over his wire frames, dark eyebrows arching pointedly before huffing out a sigh and pushing his glasses back up his nose. "That's what I want to talk to you about. Come on."

Nathan's not kidding about taking a hike. You climb a steep trail, thankful that he encourages eating healthy and staying active. If you had been sitting on your ass all these months, your climb would be quite a struggle. But the view from the top is nothing short of spectacular.

A magnificent waterfall cascades from where you are - a piece of heaven itself - dropping dramatically to craggy rocks below. The two of you sit, enveloped by the roar and refreshing mist the waterfall grants you. And, as if listening to nature itself speak, Nathan is, for once, quiet.         

You take the rare and unrestricted opportunity to watch him, unguarded. He really is quite beautiful, beneath the constantly shifting, condescending eyebrows, glasses that are sexier than glasses have ever seemed to you before, and his bushy beard. Damn, he wears it all well. 

You continue on this way, in ethereal comfort,  unwilling to be the first one to interrupt this unexpected serenity. 

After a while, he turns to you and holds out his hand. "Ready to head back, sweetheart?"

You can't help but smile at the conundrum that is Nathan, allowing him to help you up.

"It really is beautiful here," you comment on the hike back down. "Definitely different than being surrounded by androids."

He spares you a glance over his shoulder, but doesn't reply for several more minutes.

"I have to be here, for my work," He informs, nodding around you. "It's...balance."

"The artificial versus the natural?" You question, expecting a condescending remark.

Instead, he regards you with warmth, allowing you to catch up to walk beside him, instead of following his lead.

"Something like that."

"Hmm..." You nod, keeping step with your complicated, brilliant, mysterious boss. "What am I doing here then?"

He rolls his eyes but one corner of his mouth curls. "Upsetting the balance."

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Of course an interlude like this with Nathan eventually turns sexual. It is your primary connection to one another, after all, beyond even that of employer/employee.

He takes a quick shower and suggests you soak in the tub while he makes dinner. You don't even make it to dessert before he's all over you.

Which reminds you...Nate has been powered off since yesterday. Maybe Nathan wanted you all to himself.

Perhaps that’s wishful thinking.

As if reading your mind, however, Nathan explains that Nate needed some recalibrating. You mistakenly assumed this would involve you as an employee, but Nathan has other ides.

"Just say the word and I'll leave him off," Nathan flippantly suggests...while he's balls deep inside you.

Breathlessly gasping, you respond to the fusion of your bodies joined, moving perfectly in sync after doing this too many times before. Nathan knows every expanse of skin- every dip and valley. He knows full well how caressing your hip bone causes you to shift against him - creating delicious friction. Fingertips rake across your abdomen tracing each and every insecurity, igniting you with desire and confidence, even. 

Nobody has ever known you like this, touched you, pulled you apart so expertly. Truthfully, you couldn't and did not know ecstasy like this even existed. And the bliss of sexual gratification feels so much like lovemaking that you don't even know what to think or feel anymore. You only know that you crave him, every day, all day. 

And you're somehow meant to be here with him, in this wild experiment, existing in this chaotic sci-fi bubble. Your body fits his so well that sometimes you feel like - androids aside - you really were made just for him, to fit him perfectly. 

"He's your experiment," you counter, finally answering as you roll your hips to meet his expertly timed thrusts.

"Don't tell me you miss him," he groans, gripping your hips and driving into you deeper, eyes darkening at the challenge.

Your back arches off the bed as he hits that spot you love. "I missed you, Nathan," you pant, pushing your hands over the breadth of his sculpted shoulders to tangle behind his neck as you pull yourself against the solid heat of him, your bodies pressed together at every point. "That's the truth. I've missed you."

Answering you with his mouth on yours, he kisses you while you fall apart for him and keeps going until he's coming inside you.

He collapses beside you, panting against your cheek, his hefty thigh slung across yours as you come back to yourselves.

"Are you happy here?" He quietly whispers against your skin.

"Yes," you breathe wholeheartedly. "Most of the time. Is this really what you wanted when you brought me here?"

He huffs out a sardonic chuckle. "Sex? Obviously."

"No, I mean...'upsetting the balance' - what you said earlier." Scrubbing your fingers over his fuzzy hair, you silently curse the warm, fizzy yearning inside you. "I don't think anything could ever upset your balance. Always in control."

Rolling onto his back, he stares up at the ceiling. "You haven't noticed this all revolves around you?" He circles his finger in the air.

"Mmm...sure seems that way when I don't see you for a week," you smart off, already missing his touch and attention.

"That's why you have Nate," his eyebrows shoot up playfully as he props up on his elbow to face you. "Someone to play with."

"Well he's not you. No matter how much of a genius you are."

"Shit," he huffs, amused. "I don't know if I should be flattered or crushingly disappointed in my work."

As if on cue, Nate saunters into the room naked as the day he was invented.

"Somebody missed me?" He teases, sounding a lot like his creator.

With a smug smile, Nathan motions to your naked body. "Somebody missed me. You not up to the challenge? Can't keep her satisfied?"

Climbing off the bed, Nathan walks around to stand right where your face is. "Open that pretty mouth for me," he commands, ignoring the android for a moment.

Nate groans, clearly annoyed by Nathan's condescending dismissal - but the emotional response only manages to please his creator. Every time Nate acts human, it serves to stroke Nathan's ego a little more.

To your surprise, he beckons the android over, instructing him to be the one fuck your mouth. You're so curious to see what Nathan has in mind that you comply without protest. The sight of your naked body draped across the bed, head hanging off the edge, tongue out, has Nate hard instantly. Nathan watches eagerly as you start sucking off his creation.

Nate seems to have gotten over his brief moment of attitude as you take his cock in your wet mouth and get to work.

"So pretty like this, sweetheart," Nate praises you. "So good to me."

Your body warms at the encouragement - such a sharp contrast to being called a whore all the time - which also makes your pussy quiver, to be fair.

Moving around to the other end of you, Nathan traces his thick fingers over the curve of your ass before spreading your cheeks apart and spitting on your tight hole. You moan around Nate's cock, knowing what's coming. You have no objection to being used by these two, and your pussy could use the break.

Nathan pushes his thumb past your tight ring of muscle, teasing you and opening you up for the intrusion of his cock. You're used to him playing with your ass by now, but the stretch always gets to you. After applying some lube, he eases slowly inside, groaning at how tight your ass always feels squeezing him.

Full of cock on both ends, Nate strokes your cheek, praising you while Nathan calls you a greedy whore (again).

"She's not a whore," Nate protests. And this is the first time you hear a full out argument between an android and a human.

Nathan laughs out, nodding down toward your writhing, naked body between them. "Look at her. She's getting nothing out of this - taking it up the ass while your fake dick is cutting off her air supply. Who would let us do this besides a cum dumpster whore?"

As if that's not the meanest thing he's ever said about you, he punctuates his declaration by spitting on your cunt before slapping you there.

And you moan.

Nate roughly pulls out of your mouth, jarring your head as he does.

"You can't actually want this," He accuses. "Not from this piece of shit anyway." He gestures at his creator, who smirks triumph, or perhaps he simply finds Nate's display entertaining.

Gripping your hips, Nathan thrusts into your tight hole faster, spearing you so hard that you know you'll be sore.

"Nathan, it's..." You trail off, your voice a pathetic whine.

"Feel so good squeezing my cock, babydoll," He encourages, licking his lips at the sight of your wildly bouncing tits.

"You're hurting her," Nate lowly growls taking a brave step forward.

"She wants it," Nathan argues, spanking your cunt a few more times in rapid succession, the stinging sensation making your clit throb as you shriek in surprise. "Do your goddamn job and put your cock back in her mouth."

"My job is not to hurt her," Nate passionately defends. Instead of giving his creator anymore of his attention, he eases down beside your bucking body, brushing his fingers over your cheek.

"Do you want him to stop?"

Nathan laughs at him. "You're pathetic."

You can't help yourself. Something about Nathan's dismissive treatment of you, railing your ass while Nate tries to defend your honor has you right at the edge. Or maybe you just like an audience. Nathan’s always known how to push your buttons. Your eyes roll back in your head and you feel like you could come again, with the slightest stimulation.

But you glance between them and you know this is different. Something is way off with these two.

“Wait,” you huff, realizing this has all gotten a little too weird. “Nathan, wait.”

With an annoyed growl, he pulls out of you, hands landing on his hips as he takes his 'ready to lecture you' pose.

“You two need more time alone?” He bites, glancing between the two of you. “A week wasn’t enough?”

"Why don't you fuck off?" Nate snaps, shoving Nathan's shoulder. "She doesn't even know what you're really doing here."

You scramble to your feet, eyes wide and worried. "Nathan?"

"Can you believe this?" Nathan scoffs, but not really to you. He seems to be talking to himself. "Fucking unreal."

Nate shoves him again and Nathan immediately powers him down. Nate hits the ground with a bone-crunching thud and you gasp out, hands covering your mouth.

Seeing you truly disturbed gives Nathan pause.

"What is going on here?" You demand, stalking across the room to grab a robe to wrap around your naked body. "Why are you and Nate at each other's throats?" Kneeling down beside Nate, you roll him over, checking to see if he's...damaged.

You glare at Nathan. "Answer me."

Gesturing animatedly, he huffs, "You saw him. I told you you he needs recalibrating."

"No. You two were having a dick measuring contest - "

"I didn't see you complaining about my dick," he bites back.

"Stop avoiding the question," you scold. "What is going on here? What's Nate talking about? What don't I know? Why am I really here if not to work? What do you want from me?"

When he hesitates, you let out an annoyed sigh, more frustrated with your own expectations than with him. "Nevermind," you sigh, stalking toward the bathroom. He really is going to continue stringing you along, you suppose.

Normally, he isn't one to follow, or play emotional volleyball. He doesn't need to chase you because you're always available to him. But something draws him to you this time.

"Sweetheart, what the fuck?"

You ignore him, barreling through the bathroom door and closing it behind you. He barges right in, uninvited. Amidst all the weirdness, he's maintained an impressive boner.

"I left you alone for a week, with Nate - that doesn't make you happy." He talks demonstratively with his hands, despite the fact that he's stark naked and you're attempting to splash water on your face. "I spent an entire day with you - no androids for two days - that doesn't make you happy either. Why are you being so damn cryptic?"

You can't believe what you're hearing. Turing off the faucet, you glare at his reflection. "Why the hell do you care what makes me happy? Since when does that matter to you in the least?"

"What makes you think it doesn't matter? I just asked you tonight if you were happy."

You shrug him off as he reaches out for you.

"You know what, Nathan? Forget this. I-I need to leave. I need a break from this place. You're never going to tell me the truth about anything."

He scoffs as if you couldn't possibly be serious. "You can't leave."

You shove past him, out of the bathroom. "What do you mean I can't leave?" You demand, gathering some clothes so you can get dressed.

Nathan reaches for his own pants, jerking them up his legs agitatedly. "You know exactly what I mean. You're stuck here for now, sweetheart."

Ugh, you're in no mood.

"Get out of my room." You point to the android. "And take him with you."

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

The next day, Nathan is absent. But so is Nate. You can't seem to find them anywhere and the silence chills you to the bone.

So you pack your suitcase because you're done with this bullshit. You want to be here, but you've lost all objectivity and you need a break if nothing else. It's been fun and wild, but there are some serious warning signs starting to freak you right the hell out.

Another day passes and you see no one.

On the third day, Nate comes to your room in the middle of the night. He slides into bed with you while you're tossing and turning.

"Are you okay?" You whisper, although there's no reason to keep your voice down as Nathan is surely listening anyway.

"Are you really going to leave?" Dark eyes bore into yours as his hands grip your hips and pull you flush against his body.

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "I don't see any point in being here anymore. Not if I'm not going to work with Nathan and the two of you are going to pretend I don't exist."

"I'm not doing that," Nate insists, touching his forehead to yours. "I can't help it if he powers me down. I missed you."

And he kisses you, passionately.

Your body tends to automatically respond, but this has all gotten too bizarre.

"Nate, stop, hold on," you protest, gently pushing him off you.

"I know you want to leave," he confesses, nodding toward your packed bag. "I just...I wanted to spend one more night with you."

You actually consider it. Then against your better judgment, you do.

Because you're leaving. And because at least a piece of your heart belongs to Nathan. And Nate was Nathan's gift to you.

Nate fucks you so slowly and sweetly that you cry - maybe from overwhelm, or from confusion, or because it's over. Maybe because you think you'll never be with Nathan like this again.

He carries you to the tub when you finish, lets you soak, washes you, pats your exhausted body with a fluffy towel and wraps you in a luxurious robe.

"You must be hungry, sweetheart," he whispers on your ear, dragging his palm up your thigh as he helps you work lotion into your skin.

Sometimes this man is pure heaven. Except...he's not a man.

"Why are you so good to me?" You murmur, laying your head on his shoulder.

He finishes moisturizing one leg and switches to the other, a little smile pulling at the corner at his lip. "You know why."

You chuckle, even as he tickles your foot teasingly. "No, I don't."

Locking eyes with you, he pauses. Wiping his hands clean, he touches your cheek. "I was made for you."

Clearing your throat, you avert your eyes. "As an experiment?"

"I don't care why," he shakes his head. "I love you."

You falter, your gaze dropping. "How can you be sure?"

"I'm sure," he insists, lifting your chin up so you'll look at him again. "And I know you feel for me too. Don't you?"

He keeps searching for your gaze.

"Nate...I-I can't."

"But why?" He presses, his voice soft and pleading - warm brown eyes softer than you've ever seen his, or Nathan's.

Wetting your lips, you shake your head. "Because, you're a...machine."

His eyes go cold. Silently he stands up, eyes raking over your body. His hands land on his hips, making him look just like Nathan. "You think I'm not real? That because I was built I can't feel things?"

"I didn't say that," you protest, rising to join him. "I-it's my fault really. I've let this go on too long and for too far. This was supposed to be fun. An experiment, I thought. But I'm so confused."

Feelings will definitely make this far messier than it needs to be. Of that, you're certain, because of the strong feelings you harbor for Nathan. Which is why you desperately need to get out of here.

As if things couldn't get more awkward and disconcerting, Nathan decides to grace you with his presence.

"Nathan, what do you want?" You groan. "And where have you been?"

Smugly folding his arms over the breadth of his chest, Nathan nods to the android. "Didn't want to miss the big love confession. Don't let me stop you."

"Don't be an asshole," you huff, realizing he must have been watching, as fucking usual. "I am seriously over this. Get out unless you're here to tell me about my ride home." Or unless he plans to confess something too?

"I told you. You're not leaving." Dark eyebrows arch over his wire frames.

"You can't keep her here," Nate interjects, stepping between the two of you protectively.

"Nate, please, I'm fine." You turn back to Nathan. "What is really going on here? Why are you two having some kind of pissing contest?"

Nate frowns, confused, but Nathan rolls his eyes.

Just then, the power switches off, bathing your room in an eerie red light.

Nate springs into action. "Get your bag. Time to leave. Now."

Nathan tries to power him down but it doesn't work. "What have you done? What the hell have you done?" He barks at his android, seeming truly frantic.

Even though Nate seems inclined to help and protect you, it's Nathan you turn to in your confusion. "What's wrong?" If Nathan feels out of control of a situation, it can't be good.

But before he can answer you, the glint of a silver blade catches your eye. Nate brandishes a weapon and forcefully shoves it into Nathan's bare chest.

"Can't power me down, can you, asshole?" He snarls, pulling the blade out with a bloody squelch and thrusting it back into his abdomen even as you scream, horrified.

The next few moments rack your body with fear as tears burn your eyes, clouding your vision. You sink down beside Nathan, sobbing, pressing your hands down over the bleeding wound on his chest. The knife remains in his abdomen.

"What did you do?" You cry, flinching when Nate turns his gaze to you. Trembling in fear, you inch back, wondering if you're next.

"Nate, please," you whimper. "Why are you doing this?"

"Not to you," he passionately returns, reaching out for you. "I could never hurt you. I - I did this for you. I love you."

"This is not love," you cry. "We have to help him."

"Why? Don't tell me you love him."

Your shoulders shake as you lean over Nathan, blood oozing between your fingers. There's no one around for miles. Nathan's going to die and you're going to be stuck in this weird ass mansion with the robot who murdered him and who knows how many other robots.

A moaning sob rips out of you as you realize how foolish you've been, letting Nathan toy with you all this time instead of demanding more answers or insisting on leaving.

"You do, don't you?" Nate shakes his head disbelievingly. "You love him. After everything he's done to you. Fucking unreal."

That phrase niggles at the back of your mind, but you're too horrified to realize...

"Hey...it's okay." Nate kneels down beside you, reaching for your hand. You whimper and shrink away, assuming he means to kill you too.

So much for loving you. Asshole.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Look..." Nate reaches for the knife embedded in Nathan's stomach. Instead of yanking it out, he cuts deeper, dragging the knife across his abdomen, all while you scream for him to stop.

A wave of nausea roils throughout your body as he peels back a bloody layer of skin to reveal...machinery.

In fact, past the initial layer of skin, there's not much blood at all.

Your vision blurs and the world goes black.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Thanks for your patience! I always write an extra chapter than I intended. It's my signature move. I'm sure you're used to it by now. xoxo

P.S. I know we love soft Nathan and funny Nathan (I certainly do) but in this story, I wanted to explore the genre more closely related to Ex Machina and what I fully feel the film's Nathan Bateman might be capable of. (Or Nate??) Thanks for reading!

Miscellaneous Characters Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Follow @ivystoryupdates and turn on notifications to never miss an update

Join my tag list - for chaptered fics and short stories only

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Can I request general headcanons of Sully during sex? Thank you so much

I never really realized I didn't ever go deep into basic Sully stuff, so I hope you enjoy~ Not super lewd but obviously discussion of sex and sexual things below.

Sully I think goes back and forth with what he's like during sex. When I first made the blog I viewed him as just wanting rough sex, to be fully and completely dominant, but as I've continued writing for him and he's changed in my mind, I feel like that is no longer the exclusive case. Sully does like to be the dominant one sometimes, to be the one calling the shots and ruining you underneath him, covering you in markings, and reminding you that he's the only one who gets to treat you that way. On the other hand, I now also think that when Sully is deep in love with you and fully trusts you, he might like to surrender the reigns sometimes and let you take charge.

When Sully is topping you he tends to be a service top. I don't think he generally cares about his own pleasure that much at all, as he just wants to prove he can be a good partner and show that he can make you feel really good. Even when he's subbing for you, I think he'll let you do pretty much anything you'd prefer (within boundaries and reason obviously), because it just makes him feel good to see you feeling good and enjoying yourself. When it comes to volume, I think Sully can be pretty loud, but mostly because he likes talking to you, talking about what he's going to do to you, how you look above or below him, provoking you to beg for things, or maybe even begging for things himself, he likes to be very talkative during sex. I don't think he moans a lot, except for when he's cumming, but I do think he groans quite a bit when he's feeling good. I think Sully is partial to marathons over sprints, as I think he'd rather spend a long time enjoying one really great round, lavishing you in all his attention, rather than multiple shorter rounds, unless he's really pent up, then I can see him going for sprints.

I think Sully really enjoys covering you in hickeys, just because it gives him a good rush to know you love him enough to let him cover you in them, especially in visible places. I think Sully is into things like hair pulling (giving but especially receiving), he's definitely into spanking, praise/degradation, and also I just??? This just popped into my head but I think Sully is probably huge on cockwarming. I think having you on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you for an extended period, just absolutely drives him crazy, I think he just loves the fact that he gets to be so close to you and feel good at the same time. I think he's really open to experimenting with kinks, he'll certainly try something at least once with you, but I also think he's super super insistent on safewords and check-ins because he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable or be doing something you don't enjoy, more than pretty much anything. Sully likes to lay on top of you when he's fucking you so he can get as much skin-on-skin contact as he can, it just makes everything better for him. I think cumming inside of you is his absolute favorite because it's just about as intimate as things get, but he's happy to cum anywhere that you're comfortable with. Random extra headcanon, but I feel like after sex he likes cuddling with you and just tracing random shapes all over your body as you both decompress, and it becomes a habit really early on in your sex life with him that never goes away.

[restinslices]

If Bi-Han Was A Sub

Let it be known I'm a Virgin. I'm Bisexual and Bi-myself. I get no bitches. Absolutely zero play. So take everything I say with a grain of salt.  No pronouns used. Mentions of sex from behind but that could be a dick or a strap on. Whatever fits your fantasy. And obviously MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SCHOOL IS IN SESSION. READ A BOOK.

I know the chances of Bi-Han being a sub are pretty low. I get that. I understand why people write him as a Dom… but if he wasn't-

I don't think he would come out and say this is what he wanted. Most likely it just kinda happened? You guys just kept having sex and you noticed he let you take the reins, and you just kept seeing how much you could get away with. 

When you do eventually bring this up he's like "what are you talking about? I'm not a fucking sub". Sir- 

I feel like you'd keep the same position and role, but it wouldn't actually have a label. It'd take awhile for him to actually say he takes the submissive role. 

I also don't think he'd make initiating sex a big deal. Some people try really hard to seduce their partner and I can see him just coming up to you and saying "I want you". 

Having this big man under you and listening to everything you say though? Heavenly. 

That's a fucking lie. Why? He's stubborn and disobedient 

Kuai Liang gives ready to serve, this MF gives off ready to get on your nerves 

What's wild is that he does this shit on purpose. 

This the same guy who keeps reminding Tomas he's an orphan. Trust me, this bitch is petty. Unnecessarily so. 

I feel like he'd do shit to piss you off because A) he's petty. B) he likes seeing you pissed off. And C) he's into punishments. 

We can all tell this man is not fragile. So roughhousing is definitely encouraged and appreciated. Realistically, there's a good chance he's stronger than you and could just flip shit if he wanted, but he doesn't. Honestly though, in my head that would add to the fun for both of you. The fact he could physically stop all this, but chooses not to. 

This concept would especially get milked if he was being punished. 

He would start mouthing off and you'd be like "if you hate this so much, why not stop me? You're strong enough to". He'd have no real response because he had no legitimate reason. 

"You know what I think? I think the Grandmaster is just like every other man; a slut who needs to be put in his place". 

However, if there is something he doesn't like, he has no problem with telling you. You wouldn't have to worry about secretly hurting him or making him feel like shit because he'd let you know immediately if you were taking it too far. Obviously you'd apologize, and he'd just tell you to make sure it didn't happen again. 

Things I'd think he'd be into is impact play, rough sex, dirty talk, restraints, temp play, overstimulation, masochism, and probably some more shit I can't think of. I feel like his kink list is like when someone pulls out a small scroll, then it turns out that bitch is long and hits the floor. I feel like he'd also enjoy humiliation to an extent. He doesn't want to be embarrassed in public, but if you made him beat off in front of a mirror while you watched, he wouldn't be against it. 

Idk why but he really gives me "hit me harder vibes". You'll think you're hitting him hard but then he'd ask you to hit him harder. 

"Harder" probably explains his entire vibe. He pisses you off to make your life harder. He wants you to hit him harder. Be harder on him when he breaks a rule. Fuck him harder. Just be harder. He's not easily breakable. He can handle it. 

I just really feel like he enjoys rough sex from behind. Probably finds that shit relaxing. 

I feel like the punishment he'd absolutely hate would be orgasm denial. One night is already tough but when you won't let him cum for an extended amount of time? Torture. 

He gives off the vibes of someone who wants constant sex, so cutting him off would be hard. I feel like this is the only rule he for sure wouldn't break because he knows you'd just reset the amount of days he can't cum for. 

Aftercare with him would probably be difficult because he wouldn't say what he needed. He's good at telling you when he's uncomfortable with something, but isn't good at saying exactly what he wants when you're done. He's just not used to being pampered and thinks asking you to do things like cuddle with him is embarrassing. 

It's obviously not though, so you make sure to take care of him. 

He appreciates it, even if he won't say he does. 

He makes sure to care for you as well. He's an asshole but he's not that big of an asshole. If you're warm from all the moving, he'd cool you down. He'd probably try to get up to run you a bath and you're like "sit the fuck down". 

Probably enjoys silence afterwards. I don't mean he doesn't wanna hear you or he wants to pretend you don't exist. He just enjoys feeling your presence there and the sound of whatever is outside. 

An afterthought I just had. Bi-Han grunts, Kuai Liang moans loudly, Tomas probably whines. 

I know I should be writing Liar pt 2, and I am. Unfortunately the voices have taken over so this came out first. Might make another part, maybe a short Drabble. Idk. I do know that I will make one of these for Kuai Liang and Tomas.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Josephine Baker (The Siren of the Tropics, ZouZou)— Josephine Baker was an American born actress, singer, and utter icon of the period, creating the 1920s banana skirt look. She was the first black woman to star in a major motion film. She fought in the French resistance in WWII, given a Legion of Honour, as well as refusing to perform in segregated theatres in the US. She was bisexual, a fighter, and overall an absolutely incredible woman as well as being extremely attractive.

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Josephine Baker:

Black, American-born, French dancer and singer. Phenomenal sensation, took music-halls by storm. Famous in the silent film era.

Let's talk La Revue Negre, Shuffle Along. The iconique banana outfit? But also getting a Croix de Guerre and full military honors at burial in Paris due to working with the Resistance.

She exuded sex, was a beautiful dancer, vivacious, and her silliness and humor added to her attractiveness. She looked just as good in drag too.

So I know she was more famous for other stuff than movies and her movies weren’t Hollywood but my first exposure to her was in her films so I’ve always thought of her as a film actress first and foremost. Also she was the first black woman to star in a major motion picture so I think that warrants an entry

Iconic! Just look up anything about her life. She was a fascinating woman.

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

[zahri-melitor]

Catwoman 1989 (Her Sister's Keeper):

This is a direct sequel to Batman: Year One, and I definitely had to dig BYO back out and line the stories up, and in doing so I noticed how much work Mindy Newell did to transform the needlessly dark, grim and gritty reboot of Selina's origin into a story where you could see Selina in it.

I actually do think Batman: Year One is a story worth reading, and it very much fits into the dark realism turn that was gripping DC in the mid to late 80s. I also think that Frank Miller doesn't care about the interior lives of women (or as them as anything more than set dressing, given how much of his oeuvre consists of every woman appearing being framed by her sexual relationship to the men in the story, down to 'and the women here are all prostitutes').

Mindy Newell does.

Selina's bondage-gear costume and mask from BYO makes sense - as it's a costume her pimp gave her to wear for a particular client. Selina's haircut makes sense - she's started training in self defence with Ted Grant after having been beaten up by a client and left for dead outside of Maggie's convent. Newell literally spends half of the first issue reusing every panel that shows Selina or Holly from Batman #404 and #405, and providing context and additional motivation for what's happening and how that affects Selina. She breaks down the hardened, self-assured Selina that Miller wrote and shows the uncertainty, self doubt and determination under it.

It's just fascinating reinterpretation work to find a character underneath a story that doesn't centre them, and as someone who's done similar work as a fanfic writer it does indeed strike me that Newell does this in a confident way that makes it clear both Newell and Brozowski were sitting there with the issues open in front of them...and Brozowski was redrawing, not tracing. Transformational storytelling!

It also hits a lot of points about how and why Selina becomes Catwoman. Why's she stealing jewels? Because it's a lot more lucrative to her than sex work (and she enjoys it more). She's caught up in her quest for revenge more than saving Maggie - until her decisions lead to Maggie almost dying. She gives Selina and Bruce a proper conversation together about their different moral codes and motivations. Selina's desire to check on the people of the East End starts here, even if its initial form is mostly selfish and does not extend much past the people she cares about.

What I also did not expect going in was how much I was going to like Magdalene. Maggie’s tougher and has got more grit to her than I expected. She stands up to the cops with assurance, she seeks help on her own terms, she refuses to be a victim while she's kidnapped, and she faces off with Batman to protect her sister.

(Batman and Maggie talking in Catwoman #4)

The art is also excellently atmospheric the whole way through, hampered as it is by the fact that Batman Year One had already given Selina two of my least favourite outfits ever to use for this overlapping story.

I really liked this. From what I hear, Newell's Lois Lane mini is equally interesting in terms of centring a woman's story in a dark and gritty setting. Her background in healthcare as a nurse pops out in terms of what the story focused on. I really wish Newell had been given more writing opportunities, later on, because what she put together here is just really intelligent and entertaining.

[leclerc-s]

espresso with a side of depresso

series masterlist

liked by mickschumacher, bradleywillsimpson, zoyatorres and others

maejonesverstappen just wanted to put out a little song before coachella 🤎 espresso 4/11

view all comments

rhysjones i fear for my mental sanity every time you drop a new song.

estebanocon please no more songs with inuendos

↳ maejonesverstappen 🤭

↳ lancestroll we are so fucked.

user82 i too am also praying no more songs about max jones-verstappen's dick.

↳ user45 she has us all traumatized

isabellaperez what's the point in dropping music if i'm no longer around to terrorize jos?

↳ maejonesverstappen now whose choice was it to leave?

↳ isabellaperez THAT FACT IS IRRELEVANT!

alex_albon ma'am we are begging please stop singing about max's dick or your sex life.

user51 okay but she looks so hot? can max verstappen fight?

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 *max jones-verstappen does not condone hitting women but point me to the nearest track in your area and we'll settle this on the track like real men.

↳ user51 i'm a woman?

↳ maxjonesverstappen wasn't aware gender mattered on the track? but fine *we'll settle this on the track like real people.

danieljonesricciardo as long as it's not another nonsense or nonsense christmas we'll be fine guys. so fine.

↳ user30 this is the embodiment of the dog in a room on fire saying 'this is fine'

georgerussell63 no doubt she's getting ready to further traumatize us. twice just wasn't enough.

lewis hamilton my blood pressure has suddenly skyrocketed. anyone want to tell me why?

alex albon why do you always have to assume it's our fault? lewis hamilton it's always you people

isabella perez mae's dropping a new song.

lewis hamilton that explains so much. please tell me there's no references to max's dick.

mae jones-verstappen i can't promise that.

george russell WHEN WILL THE TORTURE END??

daniel jones-ricciardo probably when they have children to embarrass.

charles leclerc if max keeps winning everything, that'll probably be soon.

rhys jones woah! gross! child here!!

lando norris that's the circle of life baby jones! well, maybe not soon.

logan sargeant i think she enjoys torturing us with mentions of max's dick in songs.

max jones-verstappen can we stop talking about my dick please?

zoya torres TELL YOUR WIFE TO STOP WRITING SONGS ABOUT IT!

mae jones-verstappen 🤭🤭

daphne jones-ricciardo oh she is so proud of herself.

rowan todd of course she is. it's like pierre making a tripod joke.

fernando alonso sebastian i am begging you, please come back. put these animals under control.

sebastian vettel aren't you the one extending his contract to become the oldest driver in f1 histroy?

lewis hamilton hey, i'm still here!!

sebastian vettel he's older!

isabella perez i'm still going to torture jos. he's not get away from me simply because i no longer work for red bull.

rhys jones THE TORTURE JOS VERSTAPPEN CLUB HAS OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCED A NEW MEETING!!

max jones-verstappen stop torturing my father!

dulce perez but you two make it so easy for them

daphne jones-ricciardo children. all of you.

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, rhysjones, tatemcrae and others

maejonesverstappen triple shot...espresso out now ☕️

view all comments

user63 how the fuck did max verstappen end up with her?

isabellaperez oh wow. ditch the husband and marry me please!

↳ maejonesverstappen we can run away, ditch the husband and the boyfriend!

↳ isabellaperez say less baby girl

↳ oscarpiastri no, please say more.

↳ maxjonesverstappen i agree say more.

user09 oh she's so hot. please marry me.

user56 good thing your daddy made you get a boating license when you were 15.

nataliaruiz woah, how did verstappen ever end up with you??

↳ maejonesverstappen his insane yapping rizz somehow woo'd me.

user79 you're so pretty. i love you.

rhysjones how did you release a summer bop but daph is releasing the world's most depressing album?

↳ maejonesverstappen it's called versatility baby brother. you play a war criminal, daphne is depressed, and i sing about things i shouldn't.

↳ isabellaperez like max's dick!

baileywinters you gorgeous, gorgeous girl.

↳ maejonesverstappen 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

user61 it will always surprise me that daphne and mae are related. it's no surprise that mae's related to rhys but witch daphne's it's a shock.

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, rhysjones, tatemcrae and others

maejonesverstappen espresso btsoo ☕️

view all comments

maxjonesverstappen1 woah. marry me??

↳ maejonesverstappen maxie, we're already married.

↳ maxjonesverstappen i am one lucky man.

maxjonesverstappen1 that smile 🥰

maxjonesverstappen1 i love you

↳ user42 max jones-verstappen, certified simp for his wife.

↳ user28 he's never beating the trophy husband allegation. this is why he and daniel get along so well, they were made to be trophy husbands.

user56 good thing your daddy made you get a boating license when you were 15.

coreyfogelmanis how did that man end up with you??

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 stop bullying me!!

↳ coreyfogelmanis oh as her best friend it is my job to bully you

user10 i have never been more in love with women than i am now.

dulceperez that's one pretty girl. marry me?

↳ maejonesverstappen i would rather not be chased down by a rabid leclerc

↳ arthur_leclerc i am not rabid mae!

↳ louis_graham you chased me through the streets of monaco with a rolling pin because you thought i had a crush on dulce.

↳ arthur_leclerc that's not true!!

freya vettel me? you? beautiful blonde babies?

↳ maejonesverstappen i'm sure we could find a way

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 okay, mickschumacher come get your girlfriend before i block her.

↳ mickschumacher oh but this is so funny.

user06 SUMMER BOP RIGHT HERE!!

user17 oh mae jones-verstappen sure knows how to write a summer bop.

sebastian vettel why did you have to speak of honeybees that way?

mae jones-verstappen seb, please.

mick schumacher you might actually make him cry.

freya vettel he's definitely going to cry.

sebastian vettel i don't understand why we had to speak of honeybees that way?

rhys jones WHAT ABOUT THE NINTENDO? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN THAT FOR US TOO??

alex albon she ruined christmas now she's ruined honeybees and nintendos

mae jones-verstappen okay, now you two are being dramatic. i didn't ruin anything.

daphne jones-ricciardo how to you look sophie in the face? because it took me months to look grace in the face after i released dress.

penelope trevino it's a talent!

lando norris okay mayores, calm down

rowan todd and this is why i'm glad i never wrote a horny song about a french man.

bailey winters or me about a british man

pierre gasly wow imagine what it would be like if my girlfriend loved me.

rhys jones maybe she'd love you more if you stayed at red bull considering she's a red bull fan.

pierre gasly daniel, i swear to god, keep that kid away from me or i'll strangle him.

daniel jones-ricciardo okay, rhys, maybe we shouldn't attack the driver.

rhys jones he drives an alpine. i'll be safe.

logan sargeant lmao!

lance stroll who pissed off the pipsqueak?

arthur leclerc my guess is pierre.

pierre gasly all i said was percy jackson would get beat up by harry potter and now he's all pissy.

rhys jones BECAUSE YOU'RE LIKE YOU CROISSANT! PERCY GREW UP IN NEW YORK!! HARRY GREW UP IN FUCKING ENGLAND!

isabella perez yeah, i agree with rhys. there's no way harry beats percy.

charles leclerc but harry has a wand?

dulce perez and 9 times out of 10 he only uses expelliarmus.

logan sargeant have none of you read the percy jackson books? percy controls water, he 100% beats harry.

lewis hamilton this is just another way for you people to do the whole uk vs usa argument.

isabella perez WHAT'S A STICK GOING TO DO AGAINST A GLOCK?

fernando alonso i beg, please god give me strength to deal with these idiots

esteban ocon why are we having this argument?

rhys jones because i'm right and pierre is wrong. he just won't admit it.

mick schumacher i fear our brains need to be studied for science.

carlos sainz i think katniss beats them both.

rhys jones STOP CARLOS OR I WILL NOT HOLD BACK!!

daphne jones-ricciardo he's very passionate about this carlos. please don't make him attack you.

carlos sainz i retract my statement

rhys jones I'M RIGHT AND EVERYONE WHO DISAGREED WITH ME IS WRONG SO SHUT UP!

natalia ruiz never a dull moment with you people. never.

sebastian vettel i seriously question my life whenever someone sends a text that starts an argument in this group chat.

isabella perez YO NICO ROSBERG'S GOING TO BE IN CHINA!!

george russell BROCEDES REUNION INCOMING!!

rhys jones more like nico yapping about lewis

charles leclerc you can sit i my garage for the race weekend?

rhys jones LET'S GO!!!! A WIN IS A WIN BITCHES!!

max jones-verstappen traitor

daniel jones-ricciardo traitor

rhys jones I AM A TIFOSI FIRST AND BROTHER-IN-LAW SECOND!!

fernando alonso i don't have the strength to deal with this.

isabella perez remember to stream espresso!!

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm not going to lie, i've been watching grey's anatomy for the first time and that's why i haven't been posting much. but today's the day guys!! i also don't know how or why this devolved into what it did towards the end.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[personality-corner]

Bridgerton MBTI

Daphne Bridgerton - ESFJ

Daphne is motivated by the social norms in her society, and is very aware of how others are feeling. She cares a lot about what other people are doing, and tries to control the emotional environment to secure a match for herself. But this extends far beyond herself, she uses her emotional awareness to help Marina, and to call out Anthony when she notices he has feelings for Kate Sharma, rather than Edwina. Her awareness of how society works, and her own experiences seeing love with her parents have also influenced a lot of her decisions.

Simon Basset - ISTP

Simon lives by his own logic, and often refuses to live by the objective rules set by society. He initially doesn’t want to have kids, because to him, that means letting his abusive father get what he wants. However, because of his logical view, he often ignores the emotions of others, and doesn’t think about how his actions affect everyone. He enjoys activities like boxing, as it keeps him busy and he also makes rather impulsive decisions to help with his Ti and his own plans.

Anthony Bridgerton - ESTJ

Anthony is the oldest brother in the family, and therefore has the most responsibilities. He genuinely cares for his siblings, but shows this through his controlling tendencies and by taking a logical and objective approach to their projects. He nitpicks Daphne’s prospects to the point to where she is unhappy, and he also refuses to acknowledge his own feelings when it comes to marriage. He is very connected to his Si, which makes him haunted by the memory of his father, leading him to make many decisions based on tradition and knowledge of his environment.

Kate Bridgerton (nee Sharma)- ENTJ

Kate is very similar to Anthony in many ways. She too, cares for her younger sibling and does so through an objective and controlling lens. She also refuses to apply emotions to her decisions, ignoring the fact that she does have feelings for Anthony, as his marriage to Edwina would be objectively better than a marriage to her. The main difference between Kate and Anthony, however, is that Kate’s decisions are based around ideas and the future rather than tradition and the past.

Penelope Bridgerton (nee Featherington)- INFP

Penelope’s emotions are a guiding factor to her character- for better or for worse. She sometimes gets so obsessed with how she is feeling that she doesn’t stop to think about how her actions may be affecting those around her. However, her Fi is also her greatest strength as well. She is very critical of her environment and is able to focus on what she’s feeling, desiring a love match rather than a security match. Oftentimes, she confuses fiction for reality, which is the main reason her mother doesn’t like her reading books.

Colin Bridgerton- ENFP

Colin is a dreamer, who is so focused on exploring the unknown and his thoughts, that he ignores what is right in front of him. It took him years to figure out that Penelope liked him… and that was only after Penelope explicitly told him she wanted to be more than friends. Not only this, but he is constantly looking at his own emotions to figure out what needs to happen. He unintentionally ruins Penelope’s proposal, because he realized that she doesn’t love Debling and that he wants her to be with him.

Eloise Bridgerton - INTJ

Eloise tends to focus on a select few ideas, and doesn’t like to explore anything else that is critical of these ideas. Because of this, she tends to ignore or be unaware of what is going on around her, and how her ideas are not useful to everyone. She is constantly reading books and pamphlets, which is where she obtains a lot of the knowledge she does, and is constantly talking about this knowledge. She also has very strong Fi, criticizing Cressida when she does something that is against her morals.

Benedict Bridgerton - ESFP

Benedict likes to live in the moment, and appreciate his surroundings. He does this through art, and sometimes sex. He has been known to participate in orgies and theeesomes for the sake of it. Unlike many of the other Bridgertons, Benedict seems less concerned about societal pressures as a whole. He doesn’t scold Eloise when he catches her smoking and instead asks her for something to smoke. He is more concerned doing what he wants than appeasing structure rules or appeasing society.

Violet Bridgerton - ISFJ

Violet’s experiences are the guiding point of her character, and are exactly why she wants what she does for her children. She is a huge advocate for marrying for love, because she had married for love, and was very happy within her marriage. Despite this, she is also aware of social rules and tries her best to encourage her children to follow them. She scolds Colin for “encouraging inappropriate conversations” when he starts joking about sex to Eloise. She also encourages Eloise to attend balls, and interact with suitors.

Francesca Bridgerton - ISTJ

Francesca wants a love match, but unlike Daphne or Anthony, she would prefer to not have many suitors. Francesca is comfortable with silence and knowing the environment she is in, and is often eager to talk about subjects she is knowledgeable in, such as piano forte. She also seems to be comfortable in a routine, doing the same things as she normally would on the day of her presentation because it is “just another day.”

To Be Typed: There will be another post, as Tumblr only allows ten pics per post, so I decided to make this post more centered around the Bridgertons and their love interests. I’m going to hold off on typing Hyacinth and Gregory until later seasons.

[wildemaven]

Saturday’s with Javier: Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

WC: 1840

Warnings: E- sex to sleep, unprotected P in V, orgasms, nipple play, established relationship, fluff, 2nd POV, nightmares, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s everything- if I forgot anything let me know.

A/N: Y’all! I don’t even know what this is or if I even like it all that much. I wanted it to be this steamy scene for them, so I pushed myself to get smuttier than I have before but I don’t even know if it reads that way. So, if it sucks I’m sorry!

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Sleep eluded Javier.

Not as often as it once did.

But it does from time to time.

He thinks back to his time in Colombia when it was late nights, surviving on rich black coffee just to make it through one more report.

He’d settle into his apartment, locking the world out in hopes to catch a few hours of rest before it was time to get back to the embassy.

Rinse and repeat.

He’s grateful though when sleep doesn’t come easy these days, it’s not due to hunting down leads or chasing big name narcos from town to town, it’s due to normal life happenings. Some nights finding his brain just won’t shut off, as he lays awake against your sleeping form.

On those rare occasions, Javier silently waves his white flag and surrenders himself to the night.

*

The living room is his retreat on sleepless nights. He hates leaving you to sleep alone, knowing you hate waking up with out him near, but he’s always worried his restless movements will wake you.

The radio is low, as it plays through the local radio station, drowning out the incessant tick of the wall clock— it’s always the loudest on these nights.

The leather pulls at his bare skin as Javier shifts in the chair, his previous position already sending an ache to his lower back.

His book abandoned on the coffee table, the page where he left off dog-eared and ready for next time.

A mug sits half empty and cold on the end table next to where he’s been sitting for the last hour. Its contents a tea blend of chamomile, lemon balm and some other spices you’d picked up for him for these nights.

He settles back into the chair, a gift from you when you’d bought this house, you said he needed a comfy place to relax after his long hours on the ranch— he’s indebted to your need to care of him in ways he’d never think to.

The minutes continue to tick on, the night slowly teetering on the edge of tomorrow. Annoyance seeping through the cracks of his wakeful mind.

Breathing out a huff of frustration, Javier drops his head on to the back of the chair, eyes closed, accepting the fact that sleep is not in the cards for him this time.

Theres a creak of a wooden door opening, followed by light footfalls down the hallway nearing where Javier still sits in the dimly lit living room.

“Javi?” Your voice still soft with sleep.

His attention snaps to you padding your way through the room to him. When he’d left you in bed you were bare, but now you’re wearing his shirt— a deep green, soft and worn-in from his years of wearing it, he prefers seeing it draped over your form now.

“Shit! Cariño, did I wake you?” Sitting forward, an elbow resting on his knee as his other arm extends out you, beckoning you closer to him.

A yawn escapes, your arms raising in an attempt to stretch out your wearied muscles, your shirt— Javi’s shirt —barely covering your lower half.

“Mmmm, no you didn’t wake me. Couldn’t sleep and you weren’t there when I rolled over.” You grab his hand and sit down on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, pulling his hand into your lap.

“How long have you been awake?” Noticing his book next to where you’re sitting and the mug on the side table.

“An hour or so maybe. Came out here so I wouldn’t wake you. Made some of that tea, little reading and listening to some music— hoped something might do the trick.”

Your fingers dance across his hand, soft lenitive strokes as you listen to him talk.

“Nightmare?”

“No. Not this time. Just couldn’t get back to sleep.”

Nightmares had haunted him for years. Stealing away his sleep, plaguing his mind with thoughts of his past. Images and stories that had been seared into his mind for years. Even after Colombia, night was an enemy to Javier, always grateful when the sun saved him from the darkness of his dreams.

That was until you. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d slept as good as he did with you next him. He felt more relaxed, his mind was quiet, he’d wake feeling rested and ready for the day.

There were times when a nightmare would crawl out from the depths at which they lay dormant for months, trying to ambush Javier when he’d least expect them. Those nights he’d wake in your arms, your voice pulling him into safety, reassuring him that you were with him and he was okay.

“What can I do to help?” Brushing a few of his loose strands of hair out of his face.

“I don’t even know. Feel like I’ve tried most of my usual things so far.”

“Most?? Is there something else that might help?”

He thinks back to his nights in Colombia, when he needed to sleep just a few hours so he could get through the next day.

“I don’t know Cariño, it’s late and—.”

“Humor me Javi— You’ve got to get some sleep. Especially if you don’t want Chucho to give you shit, he worries about you when you show up looking like you haven’t slept in days.”

“In Colombia, I had a few things that helped, but don’t know if they would do me any good now.”

You give him a look, encouraging him to continue to share his thoughts.

“Smoking— helped me relax, took the edge off of those long shitty days.” His skin tingles at the thought of the nicotine pulling through the his lips.

“Hm… Javi, I know it’s been awhile, but if you need to— y-you can if it will help.”

“No, no I don’t need it.” He shakes his head, seeing the worry in your eyes.

Javier had quit smoking. You had never pressured him to do so, but when he had mentioned it was something he wanted to finally stop, you were there to support him through it. He hadn’t touched a cigarette for 4 months and wasn’t about to just for a night of sleep.

“What else might help you?” Tilting your head to the side as you wait for him to share, your fingers continue to card through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp.

“A drink or two, but it’s too goddamn late for whiskey— I’m not that young anymore. Pops would give me shit for working with a fuckin’ hangover.” You laugh in agreement.

“Well, smoking and drinking are out of the equation. So that leaves….” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip trying to hide your smirk, knowing exactly what that left— sex.

You knew about the brothels, the women he’d pay for information and doubled as a late night release, every bit of his past was no secret to you. And you never held any of it against him ever, it’s now just a part of who he use to be— judgement wasn’t something you ever gave him.

He doesn’t even have to say a single thing before you’re leaning forward, capturing his lips with your own.

You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing into the kiss as you slowly push him back into the chair, fervently crawling into his lap so you could straddle him.

His hands instinctively grab your hips as you deliberately grind down on to him.

“C-Cariño, you don’t have to. It-it’s late-fuck-it’s late…”

He can feel your unclothed sex through his thin boxers, which are now damp from your dripping arousal and his pre-cum mixing together. His body’s reaction is desirous and eager, he’s hard as your movements continue at a steady pace.

“Mmm. I want to, especially if it means my husband will be asleep in bed with me after—ooh— I want to make you feel good my love.”

You’re body craving more, breathless as your hand drifts down under his waistband, your fingers gliding over his taut warm skin. Kissing him again as you remove his hardened length from his boxers, sliding the tip of it through your soaked folds.

Javier looks down as you slowly begin to sink down onto his cock, taking him inch by inch, unhurried in your efforts which has his nerve endings firing off instantaneously.

“Fuck!” His hands working hastily to remove your shirt, the slightest bounce of your breasts as your naked form begins to move in up and downward motions.

A groan barrels from his chest at the sight of you, an ethereal vision lost in effortless pleasure. Your eyes closed, blissed out at the feeling of his cock hitting every little sweet spot.

“Oh Fuck— Javier!” His name nearly a whimper as it floats through the air.

One hand still steadily gripping his shoulder for support and the other now holding your breast, kneading its weight. Each calculated squeeze and gentle rolling of your nipple, is a building sensation that sends a ripple of lust surging through your body.

“Javi— ah— I’m so close… I’m—“ He can feel you squeezing him, a fierce grip on his length, prompting him grab on to your hips tighter as he thrusts up into you.

“I’m not— shit— gonna last much longer—“ His voice shaky as he groans, trying to warn you. “T-touch yourself baby.”

You nod at his direction, a hand snaking down between where you’re both melding together, swiping your fingers through the slick gathering at the base of Javier’s cock.

It’s blinding the instant your fingers glid over your sensitive clit, swollen and needy, each circular motion of your fingers edging you closer and closer.

Your thighs are trembling, Javier pulling you down to him, his thrusts now faster and deeper. Your mouths fusing together, a tangled mess of licking and sucking, shared moans and staggered breaths.

Before you can even start your warning of coming, your body tenses as your orgasm explodes through your body. It dances about in a slow succession of pulses, each one pulling Javier in further, triggering his own release.

“God— J-Javier I love you!”

He pulls your body tight against his, fingers digging into your dewy skin as he spills into you.

“Fuck! I l-love you, Amor!”

*

You’re both not sure how much time passes as still lay draped over Javier. His fingers delicately stroking the length of your spine, your breathing evened little puffs against his neck.

“Javier, if you keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep right here.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

“That’s the plan Cariño.”

The leather sticks to you as you shift your tired legs, adjusting your body up so you’re hovering slightly over where he’s still laying back on the chair.

He looks relaxed— eyes looking sleepy, heavy slow blinks as he looks at you.

His hand settles on the back of your neck and pulls you in until lips meet in a soft drowsy kiss.

“Let’s go to bed Cariño.”