#why do people need fans when they read smut

[dilfl0v3rss]

NEED more boxer!todo smut maybe one where reader is jealous of the fan girls ???

yes yes yes yes yes yes yessssss!!!!

you loved your boyfriend more than anything. he was caring, respectful, loyal, and most of all, he wasn't afraid to express his love for you. whether it be in an interview or literally in a middle of a match todo always made sure to let people know he belonged to you. though this was true, there always seemed to be those sex-crazed fans that saw your man as nothing but a piece of meat. eyeing him at every angle, just waiting to pounce on him when you're either not around or not looking. todo always told you not to worry about these women, but how could you when he'd do barely anything to keep them in check?

you were accompanying todo at yet another meet and greet, fixing up his locs into a much better bun than whatever he threw it in earlier as your beefy boyfriend sat uncomfortably in his seat. "wanna go the fuck home" he mumbled as he boredly watched the hundreds of girls scream their heads off at the entrance. your hand moved towards the back of his neck, plucking him lightly before lecturing him. "watch your mouth, these people are dying t'meet you and this how you repay them?" todo sucked his teeth in front of you, earning him another pluck on the other side of his neck as you moved in front of him, blocking his view of the entrance as you stood between him and the table. "ow! cmon mama, we both know that we rather be in the bed right now" the smirk on his lips already let you know what he was implying as he outstretched a wide hand on the plump of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh as he peeked past you towards the door.

you quickly slapped his hand away, giving him a warning look as you began to move towards where the rest of his team and security were standing. "behave" you mouthed before both of your attention was brought to the swarm of screaming women moving towards the table. todo internally rolled his eyes at the sight in front of him. in his eyes he didn't understand why these women acted like this, never really paying attention to how he looked when he fought. you, on the other hand, understood completely. from his tight jawline to the sight of his sweaty, glistening body. you knew your man was fine, but that didn't mean you enjoyed when these women would act like this.

"oh my goshhhhh a.t please sign this!!!" the first girl yelled, practically shoving a picture of him in his face. he internally sighed at her behavior, his hand moving towards the picture before quickly signing his initials on it and giving it back to her. "there you go. loved that fight by the way, think i handled my business well. whatchu think about it?" the girl stood in embarrassment as she looked around the room, not having a clue in the world about what fight he was talking about since she probably got the picture from a random site online. todo turned towards you, a small smirk creeping on his lips as the girl quickly walked away. you couldn't help but laugh as you instantly thought back to the fight he was talking about. it happened to be the same fight you gave hime a little something in his dressing room before he went out.

the next group of woman to come up were much calmer, all wearing white t shirt with todo's face in the middle of a heart. of course they tied the backs of them, making their breasts nearly burst through the fabric as their one size too small miniskirts sat right over the bottom of their asses, they probably weren't even wearing underwear. "hi aoiii" the women said in unison, their high pitched voices making your eyes roll as the three of them leaned over the table. this time todo didn't seem as bored, his lip twitching into a smirk as he read the words on each of their shirts. the girl on his left wearing one that said "aoi", the middle one wearing one that said "is our", and the girl on the right wearing one that had a big pink "daddy" right under his picture. the sight of them made you cringe as you quietly scoffed in disgust.

"well this is new" he said with a chuckle, making the girls giggle as well. their breasts bouncing in their tight shirts as they basically eye fucked your boyfriend right in front of you. "we're such big fans todo, really!" the girl on the left said as she batted her long lashes at him. "yea we've been t'nearly every match!" "n'when we couldn't get tickets we'd watch you on tv!" the other two followed, leaning closer towards him on the table as he kept that dumb smirk on his face. "well i appreciate that ladies, i could tell y'all are big fans" you were getting irritated now. your nails digging into your palms as you watched the girl in the middle hand him a gift box with a bright pink bow on it, small smirks on their faces as they waited for him to open it. "want me t'open it now or later?" each of the girls quickly replied. "now!" a fit of giggles following as they watched the man slowly undo the bow.

as todo removed the lid he nearly choked on his tongue. inside the box sat three pairs of panties, each a different color which also happened to match the colors of the words on each of their shirts. the girl on the left's being baby blue, the girl in the middle's being black, and the girl on the right's being pink. his eyes widened before he slowly put the lid back on, picking up the sharpie and looking at the three woman. "w-what y'all want signed?" he said, clearing is throat after he spoke in which the girls replied almost immediately by pointing to the small line in the top right corner of the big heart in the middle of each of their shirts. of course this was also where their left breasts were located, making todo's heart nearly stop beating in his chest.

you were fuming now, feeling as if steam was being released from your ears as you watched this man, YOUR man, smile from ear to ear as he signed his name on each of their shirts. you couldn't watch the scene any longer, turning on your heals and walking towards the exit to wait for him in the car. todo didn't even notice until he heard the exit door slam onto the wall when you opened it, your back turned to him as you angrily walked away. "s'cuse me for a minute" he mumbled, getting up from his seat to follow you outside. the girls giggly attitudes were quickly replaced with sadness as they watched todo walk away as if all the things they just did meant nothing.

you were nearly at his car now, the keys already in your purse since he gave them to you when it was time for the event to start. "mama...baby where you goin?" you ignored him, continuing your search for his keys so you can just go. todo didn't give up though, walking up behind you before lightly pulling your arm around so you can face him. "what's the issue?" was he dumb? did he really not see the problem in what just went on? anger began to cloud your brain, making all your movements rougher and full of attitude as you snatched your arm from his hold and waved your hands in his face as you spoke.

"nigga are you dumb, stupid, or a complete fuckin idiot cause there's no way in hell you don't understand what the problem is" todo's face hardened at your disrespectful attitude, his jaw clenching as he stared down at you with serious eyes. "who the fuck you talkin to like that y/n? don't make me embarrass you out here." you scoffed, his words not putting a single drop of fear in your heart as you pushed your finger into his chest. "you already did that when you was in there signing tiddies and smiling all in bitches faces you hoe ass nigga. m'not finna go back n fourth wit you when i know i could have a new nigga in my bed by tonight so you can go back in there wit your little girlfriends and leave me the fuck alo-" before you knew it your view quickly changed from aoi's face to the upside down view of his lower back as he threw you over his shoulder.

"nigga put me down ion care if you a pro boxer i will fuck you up out here!"

"yeah yeah whatever you say, jus keep that same energy when we get in there."

'in where?' you thought. nevertheless, you continued slapping your hands on his back, trying to free yourself from his strong hands. before you knew it the two of you were back inside, the attention of almost every person in there on you and todo as he continued his journey to the bathroom, not paying them any mind. he became irritated with your small fists hitting his back, using his much larger hands to his advantage as he left a light tap on your ass, "cut it out ma, you only makin it worse for yourself." the three women still stood in their spots in front of his table, looks of jealousy on each of their faces as they watched you. your current state made you embarrassed as you looked at the group of girls the best you could as you hung over your boyfriend's shoulder. todo payed all of them no mind, silently walking into the bathroom and locking the door before putting you down.

as soon as he released you, you made quick work of giving him a piece of your mind as you fixed your dress in the mirror. "stupid ass nigga, now you standing there all mad at me cause i told you the truth. im not trippin over you aoi you can go be wit them bitches right now and i wouldn't bat an eye." you dug yourself into an even deeper hole as you continued to fix yourself up in the mirror, not paying the man any mind as he walked up behind you. he was close, leaving no room between your ass and his print as he dropped his lips towards your ear. "you done?" the sound of his voice made arousal rush to your core, but you feigned indifference. why was he so calm? on other days when you would get like this your boyfriend would usually entertain it, feeding into your attitudes by arguing with you, today felt different.

your gazed moved towards his in the mirror. you were going to speak, but the look in his eyes told you that maybe it was better if you didn't. the look he carried was one you've never seen up close like this before. this was the same look he had before getting in the ring with that one mouthy opponent. the same opponent that ended up getting sent flying to the other side of the ring in just the first round. so you settled for a slow nod instead, an apology already on the tip of your tongue as you felt his wide hand outstretch on your the middle of your back. "bend over f'me then" he left you no more room for arguments as he already had you bending over the sink with his hand, his eyes never leaving yours as he used his other hand to lift up your dress. "why you mad at me baby?" you opened your mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of his deep, menacing voice, "and before you answer that lemme remind you that ian flirt with those girls, didn't let em touch me, didn't even ask f'their names. just been polite and signed my name on their shirts so why you mad at daddy, baby?"

as you thought back to the events that happened you realized how wrong you were, you fucked up. you were so blinded by jealousy that you didn't notice how respectful your man was still being to you during the entire situation. tears began to well in your eyes, your bottom lip already trembling as an apology sat ready on your tongue. "sh sh sh, m'not hearin none of that right now. tell me why you upset" your tears escaped you as you spoke, your breathing already picking up speed as you tried to get through a single sentence without sobbing. "cause i was j-jealous" todo nodded his head at your truthfulness, freeing himself from his black jeans before lining himself up with your entrance. "and what did papa said t'do when you start feelin that way princess?"

your tears fell more frequently now, your voice quieting down almost to a whisper as you shyly told him the words he wanted to here. "said t-to talk t'you about it to avoid stuff l-like this" he nodded again, tightly gripping your hips as he slowly sunk into you. the moan you let out was sinful, the thin walls of the bathroom doing probably nothing to keep everyone outside from hearing the two of you. "auughh d-da-" "sh sh shh, you was able to remember everything you was supposed t'do, but still managed not t'do it. y'know what that means right?" you slowly nodded your head, earning you a hard slap on your ass. the stinging pain of his rough palm caused more tears to fall as your legs buckled under you. "y-yes, m-means i'm in tr-trouble"

todo hummed in delight at your compliance, one of his hands snaking up your back and into your hair as he gripped your hip firmly with his other. "m'glad you know, take what i give you and if i see you tryna run imma just go deeper, y'hear me?" you didn't even get the chance to reply before you felt every inch of his dick begin to move in and out of you at a slow pace. the sound of his hips and your ass already filling the room as you released whiney moans into the air. "m'so sorry p-papa, i didn't m-mean t'make you madddd" you whined, your hands clenching in a tight fist to keep you from pushing at his abdomen. todo ignored you, quickening his pace and strengthening his trhrusts to the point where the sink acquired a slight shake.

you knew that you wouldn't be able to last long if he kept fucking you like this, your back arched to perfection as he pulled you up slightly so you can watch him in the mirror. he quickly released your hip, moving his hand towards your chin as he made you look yourself in the eyes. "what's my name mama? say it real loud so all those girls could hear." his deep voice traveled right between your legs, your arousal only growing as he felt your essence begin to spread all over his thighs. your eyes lost their focus, nothing but your release on your mind as you began to fuck yourself back onto his dick. todo couldn't help a devilish smirk from growing on his features, your fucked out expression almost making him ease up on you, but almost wasn't enough...

the next thing you knew todo's thrusts doubled in power, his hand gripping your hair tighter as he left three hard slaps to your ass. "y'hear me pretty? say my name." he knew you could barely think right now let alone speak, but todo had a habit of pushing you past your limits. your pouty lips parted, smeared lipgloss making them shine as you forced out the name he's been dying to hear. "daddy, f-fuckkk s'daddy!" your words were followed by a plethora of moans and whines, your release on the tip of your tongue as you felt his dick kiss parts of you that could never be reached by someone else. todo just smiled, lust dancing in his eyes as he stared you down in the mirror. "s'right mama, it don't matter if a girl put it on a t shirt or on her fucking forehead. daddy only got one girl n it's you"

tears began to fall down your cheeks, your pleasure only growing as you listened to your boyfriend reassure you. at the sound of his voice your walls began to tighten, signaling to him you were about to cum. todo moved his hand towards your stomach, pushing your back to his chest as he kissed up and down your neck. "you gonna cum? gon make a mess on your dick?" you quickly nodded your head at his question, tear stained cheeks shining in the dim light of the bathroom as you moved yourself back harder onto him. "w-wan you t'fill me up daddy" todo felt himself twitch at sight of you, your low eyes and glossy lips making it hard for him to keep his orgasm at bay as he quickened the speed of his thrusts. "ill give you want you want princess don't worry, give you whatever you want as long as you listen. you gon listen to daddy now?"

you replied almost instantly with a drawn out "yessss!" making todo's heart skip a beat as he quickly connected the two of your lips. the two of you made out sloppily, not worrying at all about the noise as your release trickled out of you onto his dick. your vision began to whiten as your legs buckled from underneath you. of course aoi caught you, continuing his ministrations until he was filling you up with his thick load. as both of your breathing began to slow you slipped out of todo's arms and turned around to face him. "m'sorry for gettin jealous baby, i just don't like seein you around so many women." you shied away from his gaze, making him put a strong hand under your jaw so you can look at him as he spoke. "i know mama and i forgive you, now can we just forget this whole stupid meet n greet shit so i can go home and fuck you properly. i hate these things just as much as you do."

the two of you laughed, getting each other dressed before quietly exiting the bathroom. you were surprised to see that all of the women had left, their hopes of pulling the pro boxer being killed by the sound of the two of you fucking like animals in the bathroom.

"looks like they already forgot it"

[shorthairchris]

Things that give me the ick when I’m reading smuts about the triplets ✨

“Me and Matt have been dating for the past few months and we’ve never done anything other than kissing.” Be so for real. Why? Are y’all babies? You know these are grown men right?

When they make one of them an asshole. Like I get the whole enemies to lovers trope but you really expect me to believe that Chris hates y/n for no reason? Or cheated on her countless times? He’s the most loving caring person in the world wdym

When Matt/Chris are suddenly completely different people??? “My corporate boss Matt Sturniolo” “My architecture professor Mr. Sturniolo” who??? I can’t take this seriously sorry

When the aftercare turns into a whole ass ROUTINE babe we’ve been fucking for the past 3 hours we’re going to sleep!!! I don’t need Matt to run me a hot bath and rub my feet 😭 just give me a baby wipe and I’m good

This might be an unpopular opinion but I don’t like when things are too perfect. “You are Chris’ dream girl, you live with his brothers in a big house and you’re all best friends, his family LOVES you, he spoils you with gifts, the fans are obsessed with you” This isn’t a Disney movie and I’m not 8 years old chill.

Honestly I get that it’s a classic but I can’t stand the y/n thing. Like why are we using my name? There’s no need for that just call me baby or something idc (also I have a middle eastern name and it sounds ridiculous in English I can’t do that shit)

When the reader is a bitch and always has an attitude. I don’t even like myself why would Chris like me?

When they try to make Chris sound like he’s from the hood 💀 just cuz he likes rap music doesn’t mean he’s any less white

When we’ve been BEST friends for our whole lives and suddenly when we hook up you call me a cumslut???? There’s no way you’re comfortable with that please 😭

* please note that this is all jokes, the writers here are crazy talented and I love y’all :)

[wongyuuu]

lens of ice | yjh | one

pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓

part one | part two (final)

The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.

Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.

"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"

Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice. 

Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.

"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"

The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.

"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists" 

"When can I have the surgery?"

You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.

"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"

Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.

"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"

That was enough to get your attention.

"Why?" 

Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.

The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.

"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"

It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.

"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"

Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.

"Well, good luck to you"

"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"

You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.

"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"

"Nothing will change" 

A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.

"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"

Jihoon simply shook his head at you.

"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"

With a salute Jihoon left.

"Fuck"

You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock. 

"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.

Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"

Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.

"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"

Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.

"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"

Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.

"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.

A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium. 

And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan? 

"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed" 

Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.

"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"

Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him. 

"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.

With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you. 

"Will you need to film my family?" 

"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life" 

Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.

"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"

You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so. 

Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.

Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second. 

In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.

And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.

“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.

“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.

“Fine”

“Just fine?”

You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.

“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”

Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.

Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.

Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.

“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.

You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.

“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.

You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.

“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”

“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”

Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.

“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.

You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.

“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”

The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.

You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.

You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.

The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.

And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.

Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.

"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.

You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.

You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"

Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.

Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.

Option b was actually the only possible choice.

“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”

Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.

“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.

“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”

You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.

He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.

You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.

“What if I say something and regret it later?”

It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.

“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.

“Can we throw it all away and start again?”

Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.

“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.

“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”

With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.

Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.

“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”

“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”

He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.

“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”

“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”

He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.

“No, the ultimate goal is to win”

As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.

You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.

“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”

“Hi”

The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.

His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.

“Can we film it?” You asked.

Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.

For Jeonghan, that was never the case.

Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.

Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.

As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.

“You said you would film anything and everything.”

You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.

In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.

“Do you think it’s important?”

You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.

“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”

“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it

You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.

Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary. 

You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either. 

While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten. 

It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that. 

However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?

You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him. 

It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain. 

Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes. 

"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?"  someone asked. 

You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you. 

"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed. 

"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?" 

"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?" 

"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?" 

The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.

Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him. 

You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head. 

“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried

“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad. 

That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you. 

“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse. 

“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”

By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot. 

The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake. 

As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.

The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.

Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.

Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.

What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.

You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.

In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.

You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.

Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.

You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.

It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.

"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”

You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.

Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?

There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.

It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.

That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?

Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling. 

It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua. 

It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments. 

His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little. 

“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.

Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels. 

“I think she will,” Jeonghan said. 

Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit. 

“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”

Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough. 

“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”

“Am I not a real person?”

The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.

“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”

Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment

“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”

Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.

“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”

Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.

“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”

After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.

Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours. 

The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much. 

It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics. 

And he only had one change left. 

So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted. 

He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to. 

“Are you nervous?” you asked him.

Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because. 

However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring. 

He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself  In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.

“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”

You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.

“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”

He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore. 

Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.

“Do you think I can still do it?”

There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see. 

Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment. 

“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”

You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way. 

Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.

"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan. 

He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it. 

Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.

"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile. 

"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"

Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin. 

"Come on, humor me"

You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.

"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”

Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.

Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.

Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.

It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.

“Where did you see those pictures?”

“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”

One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.

He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.

“I thought we were getting to know each other”.

Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.

There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.

And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.

Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.

“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.

You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.

“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”

Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”

You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.

In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.

The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.

For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.

You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.

It was become just you and your job.

Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.

“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”

You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.

He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?

Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.

He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.

Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.

He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.

Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.

“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.

He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.

"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.

Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.

Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.

"I realized I don't know anything about you"

You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.

"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"

He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.

"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.

At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.

"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.

"Whatever you want to share"

The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.

"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"

You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"

For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.

You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."

You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.

Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.

"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"

You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"

You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed. 

Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.

So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.

Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.

"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.

Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.

Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.

"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"

Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.

"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"

The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.

You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.

"You have to rest"

You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.

“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”

Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.

Finally, you were alone.

“You have to rest,” you said again.

You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.

“I need to get it right”

"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"

A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.

"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”

You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else. 

“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours. 

“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”

You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around. 

So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land. 

Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him. 

“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”

Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing. 

“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.

You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.

Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.

But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.

“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.

You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.

“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”

You saw it and shook your head again.

“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.

Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.

“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”

“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”

You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.

From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.

With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.

He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.

“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”

Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.

With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,

“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.

Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.

“I won’t let you fall”

The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you. 

You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.

When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink. 

“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”

Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course. 

His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.

“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”

The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.

“I think we should stop here”

You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.

You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.

"I thought that…"

“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.

You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.

But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.

Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.

"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”

You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.

“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”

Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.

You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.

“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”

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[m00nlight-ramblings]

Soul Meets Body

After the final battle with the Netherbrain, you and Halsin have found solace in what was once the Shadowlands. Domesticity and nature interweave with your every day life now that you are parents, but for the past few months, something has been missing. Halsin shows you how much he's missed your body.

Pairings: Halsin (dad!) x fem reader (plus sized after giving birth)

Warnings: SMUT, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), breeding kink, body image issues, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5.2k

Requested: yes

A/N: As a plus sized fan fic writer, I hardly see plus sized stuff, especially for Halsin so I decided to write something! This fic deals HEAVILY with body image issues of a plus sized reader after giving birth, so please read with caution if that is a trigger for you! ALSO: based on notes and patch updates from Larian, the Shadowlands were renamed the Reclaimed Lands, and in original notes for Halsin, his last name was Silverborough! So that's why those details are included. Also also dad Halsin is my fave ok bye.

The sun hung high in the sky midday, casting beautiful shadows through the leaves of the trees. The nearby laughter of children cascaded throughout the village, leaving a permanent smile on your face wherever you went. Your baby Lora, wrapped snug in a sling on your chest, cooed as you weeded the perimeter of the village, tossing the uprooted plants in a basket for Halsin to use later on.

Little feet scampered past you, calling your name in greeting as you knelt in the soft earth. Every time a little voice graced your ears, you perked up - what a life you were now leading, filled with such hope and joy. You felt lucky from the moment you woke up, to the moment you went to bed, for three reasons: the beautiful children that graced the Reclaimed Lands, which was once the Shadowlands, your beautiful daughter Lora, and of course, Halsin.

Your life had taken on new meaning once the final battle against the Netherbrain was won. Throughout your journey, you thought that the one thing you wanted more than anything was to return to your old life - to go home to the familiarity of Baldur's Gate. But when you had met Halsin - and subsequently fell in love with him - everything had changed, and you found yourself back in the Reclaimed Lands with the Alderman himself, becoming the unofficial parents of more children you had ever expected to have.

Of course, some adults came to the Reclaimed Lands to start anew as well - people pushed out by the curse returning home, or some wanting a fresh start. The little village you now claimed as your own was growing by the week, and nothing filled your heart more than knowing the love you and Halsin had put into cultivating the safe space.

A mere two months after you had gone home to the Reclaimed Lands, you discovered you were with child, baring the tiny bulge of Halsin's baby. It was no surprise to either of you - the elf who wanted to do things "as nature intended" acted on those natural instincts as often as they found him, and the idea of starting a family together was something both you and him couldn't get out of your head.

Once you had become pregnant, Halsin was unsurprisingly the perfect partner. Caring and attentive, you never needed nor wanted for anything. As if he could read your mind, before you could even ask, Halsin would appear with whatever you seemed to crave. Whether it be the particular berries near the river you seemed to want at night, a massage under his giant hands, or even a shoulder to cry on whenever your ankles swelled or back ached, Halsin was there to provide for you.

Your lovemaking never ceased while pregnant, either - in fact, your sex life with Halsin seemed to do nothing but increase. Often times, you caught Halsin staring at you while you absentmindedly cleaned up after dinner, or played with the children during the afternoon - his eyes falling to your growing belly. At night, while you sat on top of him, legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusted into you, he sucked and nibbled on your swollen breasts, his hands gently caressing your belly and large behind.

"How beautiful you are," He would breathe into your ear, your bodies slick with sweat, "Creating this beautiful life inside of you. You are ethereal...I am in awe. I am not worthy of your beauty." He'd cup your cheek and suck on your bottom lip as you quietly cried his name, tears overflowing from your eyes from both pleasure and love.

When Halsin was feeling more territorial, taking you from behind, but still being more gentle than usual, he would lay his chest flat on your back so he could be as deep as his cock would allow. "Knowing that everyone can look at you and see that I did this," He would grunt, his thrusts strong and pleading, "Knowing I filled you with my seed. That I love you so often and so well that the future is growing inside of you. I need it. I crave it," His would say through gritted teeth, "Everyone knows you're mine. And I am yours. Forever."

Once Loradove was born, your sexual appetite had basically ceased. Nights that were once full of screaming and thrusting and panting were now full of changing diapers, aiding cries, and soft lullabies. Halsin, of course, was the most doting father - taking Lora without asking so you could rest, playing with her so you could do some chores, or even doing the chores himself. He was the perfect father - you knew his urges to have you were increasing tenfold as every month passed that you didn't make love. But you also knew he would never complain...thinking only of his sexual urges made him feel selfish, you knew, and he would never want to act selfishly towards you.

It had been five months since Halsin last touched you in that way. Truth be told, it wasn't just that you were too busy with the village and children and your own daughter to have sex. You also couldn't bare to look in the mirror at your newfound "mother" body. A body that, once, when fighting goblins and monsters alongside Halsin and saving Faerun, was taut with muscles and curves. Now, your belly was soft and expanded, the defined muscles you once had nowhere to be found. Stretch marks decorated you stomach and thighs, and you needed a completely new wardrobe. You dreamed of being the type of mother you had known throughout your years - weeks after giving birth somehow going back to what they once were - small and desirable.

You only felt ugly. Looking at Halsin's body, rock solid and sexy, there was absolutely no way - in your mind - he could have found your softness alluring, especially when he had met the smaller, more attractive version of you. The idea of being fully naked in front of him used to send shivers down your spin and make your heart race, but now, it was enough to make you cry.

A child's playful laugh snapped you out of your day dream, your hand limply holding on to a bundle of mugwort that you had pulled a few minutes prior. Shaking your head, you placed it in the basket near your feet, watching Halsin appear into the village around the bend. A few children had run over to him, immediately hanging on his large limbs like he was a tree branch. He smiled and lifted them in the air, sending them flying before he caught them, gently kissing their temples and placing them on the ground.

As his usual way, he scanned the village, his eyes softening when they found you. You stopped weeding and stood, your smile matching his. A few moments later he was by your side, the children trailing behind him. He bent his head to give you a soft kiss - one that still gave you butterflies.

"My heart," He spoke gently, his hand immediately finding your waist. You winced inwardly as he gripped the soft rolls of your side. He slowly pushed back the cloth wrapping that hid Lora's face, and when her eyes met his, she instantly cooed. The smile Halsin reserved for her appeared on his face, and he gently pulled her from the cloth, holding her close. "My little one. How beautiful you are! Were you helping your mother today?" He eyed you, his eyes glittering. You chuckled.

"Quite so. If she wasn't swaddled, I'm sure she'd be reaching for the belladonna to try and have an afternoon snack," You sighed, smiling and wiping your brow, "She's lucky she's so cute."

"Cute?" Halsin asked, his eyebrows raising, "She's magnificent. Breathtaking. She is perfect...cute is nowhere near the word to describe Loradove Silverbough." Suddenly, Lora screeched, causing Halsin to furrow his brows immediately.

Laughing, you gently placed your hand on his bicep, "I think she also is tired."

He chuckled, pressing a small kiss on her cheek, "I will put her down for her nap. Go, do whatever your heart desires, my love. I will see to it that you have the afternoon for yourself. Daddy's got it from here." He winked, causing you to blush.

How the word "daddy" had changed in your lexicon in 9 months.

A few minutes later, you found yourself at the nearby creek on the outskirts of the village, your sweater off and laid beside you in the afternoon heat. Your feet dangled in the cool water, the laughter of the children still around you as you dozed in and out of a nap in the sunlight. Moments like this one were not rare - with Halsin, it truly was a partnership, splitting responsibilities 50/50.

When you opened your eyes again, the sun was setting, a sure sign of heading home. It was almost dinner time, you knew, which meant that you had spent at least a few hours dozing off by the creek. Your feet, wrinkled from being submerged for so long, felt chilly as you took them out of the water. Holding your shoes in your hands, you made the short walk home, passing by the children being herded inside by the adults.

As you opened the front door to your cottage, a whiff of food hit your nostrils, sending your stomach growling - some sort of roast was being prepared, with the sounds of banging pots and giggling coming from the kitchen.

"My heart!" Halsin cried, "Is that you?"

"Yes, I'm home, Halsin." You shouted back, dropping your shoes by the door.

"Lora! Mama's home!" You heard Halsin proclaim, to which Lora responded with a delightful squeal. You smiled, wiping the immediate happy tears from your eyes.

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

As you rounded your way to the kitchen, you found Halsin plating up dinner, Lora in her little feeding chair, bits of mushed food all over her face. She immediately reached for you when she saw you, so you scooped her up, grabbing a towel from a nearby table and wiping her face gently.

"My precious angel, you eat like such a little whirlwind." You murmured, kissing her eyelashes. She cooed and grabbed at your hair as felt Halsin's hand on your shoulder. Turning towards him, he smiled and leaned down to kiss your cheek, then slowly moved to your earlobe.

"My love," He breathed, his voice low. A shiver went down your spine as you leaned into his body. Your eyelids fluttered shut, the familiar feeling of comfort warming your body. He sighed contently and ushered you towards the chair nearest you, "Sit, my heart. Dinner is ready."

You sat, opening your eyes again and smiling. He placed the plate in front of you, and was about to take Lora from your hands but you shook your head, holding her closer.

"I missed her."

Halsin chuckled and sat across from you, "Of course. If she gets too rowdy while you try to eat, I'll put her back in her chair." He made a face at Lora, who made the same one back - their version of a secret handshake.

Idly chatting about your days, you ate dinner slowly, savoring the moments with the two of them. Soon Lora was starting to fuss, alerting the two of you to her nearing bedtime.

You bathed and dressed her, putting her down in her crib while Halsin washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Walking into your bedroom, he was discarding his clothes for the night, slipping into the bed the two of you shared. As you walked in, he smiled.

“Did she go down easy?” He asked. You nodded.

“For the most part. Some tears when she realized that it was bedtime, but she was so exhausted that she went down almost as soon as her back hit the bed.” You took a sleep dress from your closet, putting it over your day clothes. Underneath the dress, you slipped the straps of your shirt off, and then your pants; the way you had gotten changed every night since Lora was young. Halsin said nothing of the intricate dressing, but you knew he watched you every night, probably wondering why his love wouldn’t stand naked in front of him. You turned and he smiled softly, patting the bed next to him.

As you laid next to him he tucked the blankets to your collarbone, kissing your forehead. “Early night? I have quite the day ahead of me tomorrow.” You yawned and nodded, nuzzling into him.

“Yes. I, myself am also exhausted.”

Halsin blew out the lamp and wrapped one of his strong arms around you, falling asleep almost instantly. You closed your eyes as well, but sleep came harder for you - the nap you took earlier in the day apparently robbing you of sleep this evening.

After an hour of tossing and turning, Halsin’s voice spoke in the dark room. “My love…are you alright? Your stirring woke me.”

You huffed as you moved on your side, throwing your arms at your side in the blankets, “I’m sorry, Halsin. I’m having a hard time falling asleep.”

Halsin was silent for a moment, but you felt him move closer to you, as he had drifted a bit during sleep, an arm wrapping around your waist. He started to pepper kisses on your neck, his breath hot in your ear. Eventually, his hand lightly palmed at your breast, your nipple gently pinched in between his fingers.

“Well…if you can’t sleep…maybe we can make use to the extra time given to us.” He whispered in your ear, rolling your nipple in his hand. Your heart fluttered, but you felt your stomach drop. Gently pushing him away, you turned to him.

“Halsin…” You started, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the first time Halsin had tried to have sex with you since Lora was born, but every time he had tried previously, your excuses of being tired seemed more plausible. Now that it was five months, you weren’t quite sure what to say.

The hand that palmed your breast found its way to your cheek. “Please, my heart. Talk to me. I don’t want to pry, especially after you have given me the gift of our beautiful daughter…but why won’t you let me make love to you?”

In the darkness, you felt like you could cry. How could you explain to this man - this sweet, caring man - how you felt so uncomfortable with the idea of sleeping together? How you were afraid to show him what your body had become…how you were afraid that, if he saw you, he wouldn’t think of you the same?

It wasn't as if you didn't want to have sex with him - your heart stirred often when you saw him. There were so many nights where you just wanted to reach out to him - to bury his head in between your legs, or take his member in your mouth. Often you were so pent up with sexual frustration that when Halsin left the cottage, and Lora was down for a nap, you had to pleasure yourself in order to find some sort of release.

As his thumb stroked your cheek with such care, you knew it wasn’t fair to him to leave him in the dark like that. To leave him wondering if he had done something wrong, no matter how embarrassing your reasonings seemed.

You swallowed your nerves, placing your hand on his. “My body…” You started, your voice low. You could already feel the tremble in your voice as you held back tears, uncomfortable with your admission of these feelings, “My body is not the same as it was when we first met. When we…first fell in love.”

“Of course it isn’t,” He spoke plainly, “You have given birth, given Lora the gift of life. It is as nature has intended it - change is inevitable, and your body is meant to change when you grow full as one does when pregnant, my love.”

“No, that’s - that’s not what I meant,” You sighed, trying again. “What I mean is…my body is not…as nice as it was when we met. As…beautiful. As…sexy. I’m afraid you’ll look at it and be…disappointed. Dissatisfied.” Though you couldn’t really see him, you cast your eyes down to your sleep shirt, unable to look in the direction of his eyes.

A large span of silence passed. Slowly, he lowered the hand cradling your cheek. Heat rose in your body, flushing your cheeks.

"How...could you say something like that?" Halsin eventually asked, "Your body is beautiful, no matter what it looks like. You think a little softness will deter my yearning for you?"

"It's not just 'softness', Halsin," You said, the tears spilling from your cheeks, "It's...rolls. It's stretchmarks. Dimples and expanded skin where there was none before."

Suddenly, the oil lamp on the bedside table was lit. Halsin stared down on you, his brows furrowed in sadness. He took your face in his hands, kissing away the tears that had spilled.

"Oh, my love," He sighed in between kisses, "If only you could peek inside my heart...inside my brain. So you knew that my words match how I really feel, that I am not exaggerating," Pulling away, he smiled softly and looked into your eyes, "Your body. Is beautiful. It is a beautiful work of nature - of art. Your size does not dictate how badly I want to be inside of you. Your soul does. I love your body in every way it comes...would you stop stirring for me if I had added rolls and marks? If I had dimples on my thighs, or added skin on my belly?"

You smiled at his tenderness, which you always somehow knew he would respond with. "Of course not."

"So please know that when I mean my body stirs for you, I mean it. I would never want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, but know that I have fantasized about ravaging you ever since the cleric gave us permission to make love after Loradove's birth. If you'll have me...please let me show how much I yearn for you."

You bit your lip, looking at him. He was completely nude - as he slept every night - and was on top of you. The very sight of him was causing an ache in your core, and you pressed your thighs together. Slowly, you leaned your head forward, pressing your lips to his.

At first, it was gentle, but as you felt his body press into yours, you very quickly found yourself get carried away, your tongue pressing into his mouth. Very gladly he opened his mouth, his tongue dancing with yours. He immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, and as you felt his erection press into you, you moaned. Nervously, you reached down to the hem of your sleep dress, but desperate to feel Halsin's skin on yours (and to get it over with), you grabbed the dress and pulled it over your head, discarding it on the floor.

There.

It was over with.

The one thing you had been so anxious over - finally being naked with Halsin again - had finally happened. You had discarded your clothes in front of him, being fully naked with him for the first time since you had given birth. Holding your breath - wracked with nerves - you watched his eyes take your body in. He didn't speak for several moments as his eyes moved from your head, all the way to your feet multiple times. He moved one of his hands from behind your back, to slowly tracing lines down your body, sending shivers up your spine. Dipping his head to your body, he started to slowly kiss you, gently planting kisses on your stomach, on your thighs, paying extra attention to the stretchmarks that covered your lower half.

Finally, he looked into your eyes, and you realized they were glassy with tears. He shook his head slowly and he enveloped your lips in a kiss that was so passionate, it knocked the wind out of you. When he pulled away, he cupped your cheeks once more.

"For you to think that you are anything other than beautiful is a thought I never want you to have again," He spoke, his voice low, "I covet every mark, every dimple, every soft roll on your body. Regardless if you gave life or not...your body is a beautiful work of nature, and if I need to make love to you every night in order for you to see it, I will gladly sacrifice." He smiled lightly, kissing you again. Shivers ran up your spine as he lowered his fingers to tease your clit, his fingers weaving in between your folds. Once he felt how wet you were, he moaned into the kiss, "Silvanus help me, you're going to make me finish before I even start."

His touch sent shockwaves through your system - five months of your pent up sexual desires for Halsin were starting to unravel, causing you to careen to your orgasm faster than you ever have in your life. As Halsin rubbed circles on your aching clit, you whimpered, your arms finding their way around his neck. He held you close as he brought you to him, leaning you forward so you were mere inches from his face.

"My gorgeous, gorgeous, girl," He whispered, kissing your temple. The combination of his increasingly deep movements on your clit, and the tender whispered nothings in your ear was leaving you overstimulated.

"Halsin...I'm already close." You whined, gently biting down on his shoulder. He chuckled and growled at the bite, taking his fingers off of your clit and inserting two of them inside your cunt.

"Already? My heart...I'm afraid I will be sending you over the edge many times tonight if that's how long you are going to last." As he pumped into your pussy, you threw your head back, pressing your back into the bed. Quickly, he slid down your body, gently kissing you along the way. He never stopped pumping his fingers, but as soon as his head reached your core, he pressed your legs open with his nose to suck on your clit, taking it in his mouth in its entirety. He moaned loudly, his tongue lapping over your entire pussy, the wet sounds emanating from the two you absolutely sinful.

Arching your back, your vision started to fuzz as you squeezed your eyes shut. As you looked down at Halsin, he seemed absolutely enthralled by you, his face reminiscent of the eating a delicious meal. His fingers curled upwards as he continued to switch between sucking on your clit, to lapping at your folds with his large, flat tongue.

"Gods, I'm going to come!" You whined, gripping his hair as he sucked. He didn't deviate from his movements, completely focused on making you feel his ecstasy. As you bucked your hips into his face, your orgasm crashed around you, Halsin inserting one more finger to pump into you to send you over the edge.

You screamed his name, so loudly you felt like you were going to blackout. Halsin continued on for several moments before he pulled away slowly, taking in the sight of you writhing underneath him. His chest was heaving as he gripped your thighs, his eyes dancing as he took you in. When you finally calmed down enough, you opened your eyes, looking into his.

Immediately, you burst into tears.

"I was so scared to do that." You confessed, your tears spilling over. You laughed, embarrassed, as Halsin leaned forward to kiss you.

"Never," He said, his tongue sliding on your lower lip, "Never be scared with me. Never again."

Resting your hands on his solid chest, you felt your desire focus, watching Halsin stroke his cock above you. You moaned at the sight of him - large, and beautiful, and fucking perfect.

You would never go this long without him again.

"Halsin, if I don't have you inside of me soon, I think I'm going to go crazy." You said, reaching down to help him with his strokes. His mouth fell open and he lolled his head back, murmuring your name. He took your hand from his erect penis to his mouth, kissing it gently before he lined himself up with you.

"Anything you desire, my heart." He said, before taking your hands and pinning them above your head. He held your wrists with one hand as he slowly slid inside of you, never breaking eye contact. The further he slid in, the more you two moaned, brows furrowed. Once he bottomed out, he growled. "Hells - I do not think I'll be lasting too long, either."

You laughed and he chuckled, winking at you before he began to thrust. Slow and deliberate, he grunted with his movements, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

You couldn't help but moan - there was no trying to stay quiet anymore. The past few months of not having Halsin had made you so pent up, that any touch from him seemed to cause your core to stir.

Picking up his pace, the headboard creaked. Halsin palmed at one of your tits, dipping his head to suck on your nipple. You arched your back so he could take you deeper in his mouth, and soon, he started to suck on the skin around your nipple. Heat rushed to your head as waves of pleasure continued to spread throughout your body.

As the two of you fucked, you were sloppy, messy. Noise and juices and movements shared between the two of you with no regard, with no holding back. Both of you were desperate for each other's touch, your whole body felt like it was on fire.

Eventually, as Halsin thrusted into you, he spread your legs with his other hand, abandoning your wrists above your head. After he spread your legs, he pressed one of his large fingers to your clit, circling it slowly.

"You, are so beautiful," He spoke, every word accentuated with a thrust, "The most beautiful creature nature has ever created. The most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

"Gods, Halsin - you make me feel so good. You fuck me so good." Your whimpers were bordering on incoherent as he fucked you, but it didn't matter. You were safe - you were fucking the love of your life, and Hells did it feel good.

"That's it," He spoke, moving your legs so you were on your side. He stopped thrusting for a moment to adjust you, closing your legs on his cock so he could thrust deeper, "That's it, my beautiful goddess," He be began to thrust again, and palmed at your tits, "I love this body. You are so beautiful. I love you."

"I love you too," You moaned, your back arching, gripping the sheets underneath you, "Daddy, I love you."

Halsin's eyes were set ablaze at your words. Your use of Daddy before Lora was around during sex, but you had a feeling that it took on a whole new meaning while you fucked him. He smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow. You could tell by his thrusts that he was nearing his edge, which was soon for Halsin.

It seemed the five months had the same affect on him, too.

"Daddy's fucking you good?" He groaned, grabbing a fistful of your ass. He squeezed hard before winding his hand back, giving you a tight slap on one of your cheeks, "You like it when Daddy fucks you like this?"

"Yes!" You screamed, grabbing hold of his forearm, "Gods, you make me feel so good!"

His grip on your ass tightened as he started to switch between his thrusts - slow and measured, and rough, pounding into you so hard his cock coming in contact with your cunt made a loud SMACK noise with every movement. Your walls clenched around him as he roughly gripped your hips, his hair becoming wet with sweat. Every time you clenched around his cock he growled, a noise that reminded you of an animal - feral, full of wanting.

"You're going to make me come," He said, his chest heaving. The sound of his cock and balls slapping against your wet core filled the room at an increased pace, and he didn't stop. "I'm going to fill you, my heart."

"Fill me," You commanded, looking into his eyes. Halsin groaned and leaned forward, his forehead touching yours. With three more thrusts, he growled and released, filling you with his orgasm. A silent scream came from his lips, followed by him murmuring your name over and over again. He bucked his hips a few more times to drain himself in you before he slowly slid out, immediately cradling you in his arms.

Both of you were panting, sweating, but you didn't care. You were holding on to each other for dear life, thankful for how the night turned out.

Halsin kissed every inch of you from your chest up, cupping your face with the utmost care. Pulling away, he looked at you.

"You put the stars in the sky, my heart," He spoke, gently kissing you. "The moon...the sun...they pale in comparison to your beauty," Gently running his hands over your body, he titled his head, "How do you feel?"

Still catching your breath, you smiled at him, "Incredible. Beautiful." You answered, honestly.

Halsin's face lit up and he pressed a kiss to you again. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and soon, his body was pressing against yours again, his pent up desire found his movements.

"If you give me just a bit of time, I would love to make you feel beautiful again." He spoke, sending shivers up your spine. Brushing a piece of hair out of your face, you were about to reply.

Suddenly, Lora cried from her room. Both of you stopped in your tracks, and when you realized she wasn't going to stop, you bot started to laugh. You went to get up from bed, but Halsin gently pushed you down, springing up himself.

"Rest, my love. I have her," He started to walk out of the room, but turned back quickly, "When I come back into this room, you better not have put your clothes back on."

You giggled and titled your head, feeling seductive for the first time in Gods knows how long, "Mr. Halsin, if you don't watch yourself, you're going to have put yet another baby in me."

Halsin's eyes darkened, and you knew you hit his desires on the head. His cock twitched and he coughed, trying to control himself. "Who says that's not the plan?" He asked, before slipping into Lora's room.

You laid back down on the bed, your breathing returning to normal. From the other room, you heard Halsin speaking softly to your daughter, singing her a lullaby to get her to go back to sleep. Pulling the covers over your body, you relished in the feeling of the blankets on your naked skin. Sighing happily, you moved your legs around in the bed, the sensation spreading warmth throughout your body.

How lucky you were.

---

If you liked this one, don't forget to leave a comment - it’s so so appreciated ❤️ Thank you all for reading!

[knightyoomyoui]

[SMUT] TWICE Tzuyu x Male Reader - "First Time"

Here's a Tzuyu smut for 2024, which is the first and one of my two remaining smut fics left before I offically end my TWICE smut anthology series. I guess I can't give that much hint already for what's gonna be the final one, since I feel that you guys know already if I say that it would be my toughest challenge so far on both writing one-shot fanfic and a smut genre respectively. Just noticed that simply my main agenda right now after returning for my hiatus is to finish everything I've left behind that are this close from being complete, and it all starts here. Enjoy reading, you horndogs lol. WARNING: mature content, contains smut, +18 WORD COUNT: 5800+ TAGS: friends with benefits, vanilla sex, masturbation, oral sex, thigh fuck, blowjob, pussy licking, ass eating, fluff, doggystyle, anal, body worship

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You are heavily concentrated on the project that you are currently working on your desktop. It was already 11PM and you haven't had any dinner yet since you're the type of person who wants to finish a work when so invested in just one sitting.

Stretching your back on your swivel chair for a second after you switched to another template in your editing application, you heard your doorbell rang from outside. It surprised you because it's unlikely to have visitors at this rate of time.

Eyeing the heavy long metal beside your door, you carefully made your walk through the door and braced yourself to open it. Gripping the doorknob tight, you slowly turn it. Before you were about to swung it open, a familiar voice spoke from the outside, even surprising you more.

"Y-YN a-are you still there?"

She might have probably seen the lights from your windows still open, and essentially confirming if you are still awake inside or not anymore as she knows that you can sleep on either the lights are off or on, and she's aware also of what time is it already for her to do this.

Any threat or risks that you felt was completely swooped away when you heard her voice. Opening the door wide, there you saw your bestfriend Tzuyu standing in front of you.

As she raises her head, your eyes caught a glimpse of her own... and it doesn't share the same good condition. Her looks baggy, reddish, and... watery.

"Tzuyu, what brings you here?" You asked her curiously. "A-and... did you cried?"

Tzuyu nodded and in a swift moment, she slowly comes up to you and hugged you. You were dumbstrucked at her actions and what happened to her that made her be like this, but what matters first is that this poor lady in your arms definitely needs some comfort.

Raising your arm, you gently patted and rubbed her back as you let her pour all her tears on your shoulder. "Just let it out, Tzuyu. I  don't know what is going on, but I'm here for you okay?"

That's the reason why Tzuyu primarily chose to come right at you whenever she needs help. You were just there all the time for her, and it's so rare for people to make an alloted time for their special someone to accompany them whenever they need to.

"Let's go inside, it's already late." You invited her in to the house. She quickly followed and remove her grasp at you as you paved the way for her to enter.

She stepped inside, and you closed the door. "Let's go there." You pointed at the couch next to your workplace.

Tzuyu silently followed your command before she finally spoke as she got to sit comfortably. "Thanks for this, YN." Her voice was shaky and rough.

"What happened, Tzuyu? Is something wrong going on?" You asked her as you poured some hot glass of milk and cookies for her. "I know you always come by for my help but I didn't expect you to be here in the middle of the night."

"I-it's my parents." She wiped her tears off and clasped her hands together, laying them down on her lap. "They're having another huge miscommunication again. It's been like that for almost a week already, and I can't stand it anymore seeing them like that. I had enough, that's why I decided to run away and come seek for a place to stay in... through you."

You understood her purpose of appearing here immediately. "And you're free to stay here whenever you want, I'll do everything for my friend." Tzuyu smiled at that, but almost sincere as she felt slightly different at that statement. "What was your parents arguing about, if I may ask?"

"It's about my dad going out frequently these days looking for some cash to borrow from. I think he's been into loaning for sometime, much less to our knowledge. He got fired from work when the company he was working in decided not to accept everyone who has a health condition due to safety regulations, and he got both detected that he has acute diabetes and is already middle aged." Tzuyu began to explain.

"My mom was a stylist at a salon but her salary wasn't enough now for just us to sustain because we need it now too for my dad's treatment. Then, just now, they got into an argument when my mom learns that my dad was secretly making loan from most people these days without her permission. You know how loan sharks can be dangerous, right? But my dad just defended that he just want to do something for us to still gain money and he doesn't want to stay at home doing nothing for her family."

Tzuyu started to tear up once again, from the mixed emotions she's having from both of her parent's side in their tough situation. You once again assisted her by giving her a clean cloth to wipe her tears away. "Now I get it. I do understand your father's point though. It's hard for a parent to just find their selves doing nothing when they know the hard time their family must've been going through.

It's their responsibility to take care and provide their daily needs, and not doing that so will ick them uncomfortably. Even if doing loans was also quite not a good idea, atleast you can see how your father loves you and your mom. Your mom was just angry at your fad because she doesn't want him to get in danger once he couldn't be able to pay all his dues in no time."

Tzuyu nodded at you, pinpointing all the comments you have to say regarding her concern, as it makes sense anyway. "I was starting to consider to help them by looking for some job to do to earn money for them, but I'm not that decided yet plus... I don't really feel it yet to engage at work while I'm still studying you know."

"Ahh, the fear that you might be unable to do both of them simulteanously, huh. You don't want to fail your grades, isn't it?"

"Yeah." You were right. You know Tzuyu to be actually a smart girl based from the earlier times when you first met her and your experience of her being your classmate. She has a lot of potential, but what you like about her is that she's careful on using those and avoid the possibility of wasting it on the wrong time.

"You know what, save it for tomorrow. You should go to rest, you look unsettled at the moment. It's already midnight." You mentioned as you looked once again in her droopy eyes and gloomy demeanor. "We can talk about this again for tomorrow."

"T-thank you again, YN." You nodded for her gratitude. "Stay here, okay? You want to watch TV?" She agreed. You opened it for her. "Entertain yourself there with your milk and cookies, I'll be just finish my task here."

She obliged, and she lets you do your thing there on the desktop. Minutes have passed, and with all those glances Tzuyu has been giving on your busy self, she began to get curious at what actually you are doing.

She stood from her seat and approaches you. Peeking at the monitor of your computer, you were shocked when she ducked next to your side, her pretty face almost inches away from you.

Your fingers nervously types from the keyboard and moves the mouse as you just let her observe what you are doing. "What's for the edit?"

"Commission." You simply answered. "Client requested to create a presentation for her upcoming thesis research. She has no other time left because she spent too much researching and revising her topic. Good thing she already has parts prepared for me to input for each slides."

Tzuyu hummed. She continues to watch you do your work while also admiring the fact that you are doing a sideline also apart from your current education. "So you are part-timing too?"

"Freelancing to be exact. I'm the one who looks for clients and offer service. Mostly editing, as you can see."

You started to sense the purpose pf her inquiry. "You know Tzuyu, my only advice about what you're planning is that you are doing right. Don't rush about it. If you don't feel the passion of it then don't head straight. It's hard to do something that you didn't even feel doing in the first place."

Tzuyu keeps that in mind. "Can I put up some suggestions?"

"Sure do. Would love to hear it from you."

She then began to point out some more details she can imagine in her head and you judged it with her by trying it on your work. It almost took half an hour before you finally finish it, saving you some more time of impring your butt too much on the chair for sitting too long and tiring yourself up.

Fortunately, Tzuyu helped you to wrap up early. "Oh wow, I didn't know you were so good at designing. Tzuyu, I swear I see some potential in you."

Tzuyu blushed and became embarassed. "Damn it, YN. Stop fluttering me." You chuckled and awwed at her cuteness. "But thank you."

"You should consider freelancing too, maybe you can attract a client that pays a lot but I hope you can endure the huge assignment."

"I'll take note of it." She nodded. You noticed that she already emptied her milk and cookies. "Cmon, let's get you to your room for tonight."

Tzuyu followed you and both ended up in a bedroom that is cozy and suitable enough for a single person to be used. "You can sleep on the bed, I'll be here on my extra cushion here."

She gasped and became shy at your gentleman act. "B-but, YN... this is y-your room. I'm fine-"

"No buts, no ifs. You are a woman who should be treated with respect. Now please, you can take mine for the night."

You were about to set up the cushion on the floor but Tzuyu tugged your arm. "Yes?"

"C-can you just stay with me on the bed?"

You became speechless at her request. The fact that you are about to sleep with Tzuyu close to you has effectively boosted the blood cursing through your body, creating goosebumps on your skin. You became red and flustered about it.

"W-what? Why?"

"I- I can't sleep without hugging something." Tzuyu pouted.

"I have an extra pillow though."

"I need something big that fits me to cuddle." Her voice became even more softer. You sweared that your heart is about to melt. "I have a life-sized bear that my mom bought for me since I was a kid on my home but I don't want to go back there for now. So... c-can you be my cuddle bear for now, if you might?"

You sighed heavily at how Tzuyu looks so pure and beautiful pleading at you with her puppy eyes and that mellow visuals. This is what's pulling you back: it's your freaking crush and the idea of sleeping with her on the same space, same bed is what's unraveling your lack of composure.

But you don't want your friend to be sad and disappointed because of your stubborness. "Alright, fine. You can hug me in your sleep."

"Yay! Thank you, YN!"

Both of you laid down on the bed you turned around with Tzuyu facing your back, as you can't endure much longer seeing her face too long, although it would be a delight to have such this wonderful sight before you sleep and to wake up in the morning.

She wraps her arms at your waist and hugged you tightly. You blushed when you felt her soft breasts squished on your upper back, sending your heart to race. She buries her face at the crook of your neck before sending a chilling whisper close to your ear.

"Goodnight, YN."

"G-goodnight, Tzu..." You breathily replied before you and her doze off to slumber.

The next morning, Tzuyu woke up first than you. Her eyes slowly opened, regaining her sight, and the first thing she saw was your side-profile. You were now laying flat on your back beside her.

She indulges the pleasant view of your peaceful state, smiling on her own happiness to have such an amazing friend and an irresistable crush like you. Although her frown began to shape from her lips when she remembered the reality that she is still uncertain if you do feel the same for her.

Intaking this moment of you and her in one bed, nothing around but a room filled of silence and being struck by the bright sunlight of the morning. She looked at your bodies laying together until her eyebrows furrow when she spotted something strange under you.

Tzuyu saw a hump-shaped formed onto the blanket that is covering your lower blanket. She was curious to see what it is as she noticed how it almost seemed like it's moving.

Taking off the blanket around you, it had her thinking twice if what she just did is not right at all.

But that doesn't mean she didn't like it at all.

Tzuyu was staring at the source of that hump, and that is coming from your short that is having a tent marked on your crotch.

Unlike from the blanket, what she's looking at was even more obvious at what shape it is. It was long, large and diagonally laying down, measuring it as it reaches down to the upper part of your thigh.

Tzuyu was blushing hard as she realized that she just witnessed you having the most common thing for boys: a morningwood. You have no idea at all that you have a woman beside you who is clearly seeing how hard you can get with whatever reason it may be.

She became so curious, almost deciding if she'll take a touch of it to found out what it feels. Her hands raised up and fidgeting to go forward onto your crotch.

That is, until she got interrupted when she shrieked a little as she saw you moved, and your new position got her swallowing her threat and nervousness crawling inside.

You are now laying sideways, with your front figure now facing her. Tzuyu can feel your morningwood pressing against her bare thighs, and she swear that it's driving her hormones crazy when her skin can feel the warmth of your covered erected cock laying down on her touch.

"He feels so big, oh my goodness." Tzuyu whispered. She even teased it by gently bouncing your cock on her thigh by moving it up and down slowly. Her thighs start to rub with each other as she is beginning to become horny.

"N-no... control yourself, Tzu. You don't want to end up harassing your friend while sleeping. This isn't right." Tzuyu quickly shook her head before carefully removing herself away from your side, standing up from the bed.

As she is now on her feet, she glanced downwards and noticed a wet spot on her shorts. She was shocked to see that she got easily wet thinking about your elongated cock earlier. It had her panicked and rushed quickly at the bathroom to aid this.

Minutes later, you woke up after still in your morning wood, not having any clue that Tzuyu seen that beast earlier. You tried to fixed it by repositioning it on your boxers and hid it under the hem of your shirt.

You exit the bedroom and saw Tzuyu preparing your breakfast on the table. "Wow, Tzuyu I wasn't expecting that you'll be the one to cook." You chuckled as you saw the mouthwatering scrambled eggs and fried rice with the plates.

"Well, I don't want to do nothing while staying here you know. I want to remain productive too." Tzuyu smiled. Her eyes glided down to your shorts and remembering what she just saw almost distracted the stability of her mind. "G-good morn-ning, YN.", she awkwardly greeted you.

"Good morning too, Tzu. Let's eat?"

The two of you began to eat and start some random topics to talk during your breakfast. After both were finished, you volunteered to do some dishes while Tzuyu asks permission to take a shower in which you granted and willingly let her borrow your spare clothes for the meantime.

While you on your way back to the kitchen to grab a new clean rug from your storage area, you heard something that catched your attention from the bathroom door. Your hearing is very sharp and sensitive that's why you can immediately catch on the sounds around you.

And this one is a bit surprising and... enticing. You pressed your ear closer at the door and there you heard loud and clear the sound of someone moaning inside. It definitely is coming from Tzuyu and judging from the noise she's creating, you probably guessed that she must be doing something to satisfy her needs: and you cannot believe it that you have your girl bestfriend masturbating in the bathroom of your own freaking house.

You quickly rushed away out of the door when you noticed that the noise stopped. As you returned to the kitchen, you gently massaged your cock getting hard from that sultry noise.

Is s-she... Fuck, I'm getting turned on with my friend masturbating. Goddamn, control it YN. You don't want her to caught you acting lewd." You hissed yourself before continuing with your dishes.

Tzuyu emerged from the bathroom, just as time you finished washing dishes. You sheepishly avoided her by quickly grabbing your towel and take your turn next at the bathroom to shower.

 As you stepped inside after closing the door to see Tzuyu sitting on the couch and looking at her phone, you looked around your bathroom and had you imagined Tzuyu doing her own business earlier in this exact spot.

It made you rush quickly on taking a bath while fighting with the urge to masturbate by squeezing and massaging your cock and balls with soap, basically edging yourself away from doing so.

It was then you finished, you realized that you forgot to bring your clothes with you at your rush. "I have to be quick."

You opened the door and was about to dash outside when it shocked you that Tzuyu was walking at the same direction as you, emerging out from the kitchen, resulting in her to collide at your naked body. Her feet accidentally pulled your towel after she slumped backwards to control her balance, causing your towel to unveil your lower part.

Both became speechless and flustered as you realized that your largened cock has now exposed to Tzuyu's innocent eyes. You tried to cover it with your hands despite it's massive size. "O-OH SHIT,  TZUYU DON'T LOOK!"

You exclaimed to her but instead she remained staring, gawking at it's size. "Oh my god please turn around, i'll take back my towel. I'm so s-"

"You don't have to, I've seen it already."

"Huh?"

Your face crumpled in confusion at what Tzuyu said. "I-I've seen your thing a while ago after I woke up and I noticed that it's... h-hard. It's bulging on your boxers that I was concerned it might break it by itself."

"And I-I felt bad about it, I- I almost want to help it..." Tzuyu slowly steps forwards, removes your hands from blocking it and returns her sight at your cock now pointing at her, she inspects how it throbs everytime her eyes stare longer at it. "T-Tzuyu wait..."

"Does it give you difficulty right now, YN? I-I'm willing to help you, if you d-don't mind." Tzuyu looked at you with her mischievous soft demeanor. You gasped at her offer.

"But Tzuyu, are you sure about that? This is so embarassing but..."

"Hmm?"

"I don't have a problem w-with it, it's just that... oh God I can't form my words coming out of my mouth well!"

"Don't stress yourself, you said it already." Tzuyu shushed you as she patted your chest. She leaned at your face and landed a surprise kiss on you, making your eyes widen and jaw drop more at her action. "For now, just let me repay you in return for helping me by doing t-the same for you~"

She slowly lowered herself down to her knees, now kneeling in front of you. Her eyes and now leveled equally with your cock facing at her. She bit her lips and viewed at it with mesmerizing gazes. "I've only seeing these from the internet, and I was so right that to see this in personal is a much better deal to admire. I might get addicted with this."

Her hands surrounded the thickness of your cock. She slowly pulls it and bends it upwards, tightening her grip before she starts pumping it in a dangerously slow pace. She heard your deep sigh and looked upwards to see your face floating in cloud nine.

"Does it feel good, YN?"

"Y-yeah, it does. God, it's so much better than using my own hand."

Tzuyu smiled at that compliment. She started to stroke you even more, her fist kept that grip before her other available hand started to come to play too, targeting your testicles.

Your hanging huge balls got fondled with care. "It feels so full and heavy, YN." She pointed out. "Are you even doing it?"

"Y-yeah..." you said as you started to hold her hair and rub it gently.

"How often?"

"J-just... two times in a week, sometimes months." Your breath became raggy as she began increasing the speed of her fists jacking off your thick meat. "Oh god, Tzu..."

"Are you ready, YN?"

"For what?"

She didn't had to reply verbally, but instead gave you the answer orally by circling your mushroom head leaking pre-cum already with her tongue.

"S-shit! I'm sensitive t-there, oh!" You gasped loud as Tzuyu continues to do foreplay on your helpless cock, licking the entire length and juggling each of your balls with her puckered mouth.

After feeling satisfied, she now puts your entire meat inside her mouth and starts bobbing her head off. She fucked herself with an increasing force until her nose is now touching your groin.

Tzuyu pointed at her head and hair to signal you something in which you understood right away. You gripped it and started doing the favor on your own by fucking her mouth with your own choosing of speed.

Your desire on having such lustful act with Tzuyu is making you overwhelm, urging you to participate further in this with her. With the tightening of your groin, you mercilessly pounded her face to race through the end.

"I'm cumming, Tzuyu. Where do you want me in?"

Tzuyu just pointed at her throat. Few pumps and that's all it took for you to blast off your warm seed, filling up her mouth with your load that was saved up for months of your inactivity to ejaculate.

She slowly lets go of your cock with a loud pop before cleaning her lips with the remaining traces of cum left. "We can do it right here, but my pussy is unavailable for now. I-I don't want to get pregnant y-yet..."

"It's fine, Tzuyu. I respect that." You got her point. She must be fearing that she might cause additional stress for her parents in the middle of their financial crisis just to assist her on supporting her pregnancy and the child's needs once she gave birth to it.

You took a mental note that now you're having sex with her, a necessary caution would be required first to perform to ensure the safety.

"But that doesn't mean we can't pleasure ourselves anymore without that. You can still use my body... wear condoms, but only for this another hole I got behind me." She said as she stood up and turned her back on you, making her posture upright as she presents you her ass and rubbing it on your cock.

You had enough of her teasing, you lifted her shirt up and pulled her through her torso. Your hands climbed up to her bra-covered boobs. They are average sized at it's finest, perfect enough to fit in your palm.

You unclasped her bra and removed it around her, now playing on her naked tits while you devoured her neck with supple kisses. She purred and yelped at the sensation she's getting from you pleasing her.

Your fingers pinched and twirling her nipples before you turned her around and made her kiss you. You carried her body and brought her on the couch while she is wrapped around you.

You sat on the couch with her on your lap. Letting go of her lips, you then head on to her breasts by give the attention it deserves, sucking and licking the light-brown delectable areolas and nipples that she have while massaging each it to intensify the pleasure.

Tzuyu was just moaning at your active mouth running around her sensitive area. Your hands then moved around her ass as you kneaded her cheeks from her short before you hooked on the waistband and removed it from her legs.

Her now exposed underwear is the only garment she has left. She crawled on the bed and went all fours. You switched behind her and kneeled, facing her alluring ass as you removed her underwear and took a sniff on it.

Her asshole and the outline of her restricted pussy is now visible to your hungry eyes. Without no more hesitation, you rubbed yourself around her cheeks, making her gasp at the air that you blew from your nose and mouth having in contact with her private areas, tickling her into goosebumps.

You start licking her pussy, wiggling her outer walls before you spreaded it with your fingers then inserted it inside, making Tzuyu scream in surprise. Your mouth then worked next on her hole and sucked on each of her cheeks to grab a taste of her cake.

"Mmmhhmmphhh yeah you're so good at this, YN oh fuck~" she said while grinding her ass across your face and feel your fingers pumping back and forth in her pussy. She started to shiver when you quickened your movement, leaving her in a screaming, groaning mess.

"Ughhh yes fuck fuck fuck YN i'm so close, keep that fingers deep within me~" Tzuyu purred as she gripped tight at the back of the couch, enduring the huge pleasure being provided to her by her dear bestfriend.

"I'm cumming, i'm cumming on your face YN!" Tzuyu yelled before she squirted her love nectar straight to your awaiting face and mouth, tasting and slurping her juices as you slowly rode her orgasm out with slow fingering.

You didn't let Tzuyu to recover some more time as you stood up and jerked your cock at the gaps of her ass. "Are you ready, Tzu?"

"Yes, please. I can take it. I want it to be you, YN. You're the only one I trust."

"I'm glad so, Tzuyu. Tell me if I need to stop okay?"

She nodded. You directed your tip to her entrance and slowly entered. You heard Tzuyu groaned as each inch are now pressing her hole.

"A-ah wait, YN let me adjust." Tzuyu hissed and fixed her position in all fours. "Alright, continue."

You gently pushed deeper and now your cock is inside her ass. You started to move, and you gasped at how tight her ass feels around you, feeling the way she clench when your crotch bumps at her ass.

Sensing that this makes it even feel much better fucking her, you started clapping her ass as you feel like it. Tzuyu just continues to blabber random words of praises and constant moans while your speed changes from rough to vanilla.

Her sultry, sexy voice has reduced to a hum when she felt another splash of wamrth inside of her, but this time in her hole as you shoot another load of cum on her ass with regards to safety of commiting sex with her.

As you pulled out, you saw some few overflow out of her asshole. You gritted your teeth in guilt. "I-i'm sorry, I think I may have done it too much."

Tzuyu giggled and sighed at your considerate behavior. "Don't feel too bad about it, YN. It just means that you really gave it all... which is what I really want from you." She winked.

You blushed before standing back up. "I'm gonna go grab some tissue." You said as you left her for a while before going back to wipe the remaining cum on her ass to keep the couch left unstained with the smell of sex.

"Want to go for one more round?" She challenged you with a smirk as she sat properly beside you, crossing her legs.

"I'm in. What do you want next?"

"Hmm, I think it's time for you to decide for this one. I'm already satisfied with my own cravings, now it's your turn." Tzuyu said, posing herself like she's in deep thoughts. "May I ask you one? What part of my body do you actually admire?"

You traced her naked body but there's this one specific part that drives you crazy whenever you get hynoptized at it's perfect shape and thickness. "If i'm going to be honest, your best gift that was sculpted by the gods for you is your heavenly thighs, Tzu." You swayed your head while whistling at how magnificent it looks.

"Tell me more about it." She flirtatiously whispered at you while playing with your hair.

"I love your ass, those cute tits and that talented mouth too, but your thighs are just too immaculate. Too unmatchable. It's so jiggly..." You started to ran your hands around her well-built thighs. "So smooth, so thick... I would be really honored to be suffocated in these damn pillows."

"Now you gave me an idea to show me what more of these can do." Tzuyu winked. She reaches for your semi-limp cock, awakening it back to it's full size by flicking her fingers around the bulbous head. Her legs shifted above your lap, with your cock sandwiched between those voluptuous thighs to die for.

"And you are very lucky to experience such a rare service coming from such Thighwanese beauty." She smirks before she squishes your hardened cock and strokes its skin with her thighs by lifting both her legs up and down.

"Ugh... mmmphh oh~" You moaned at the relaxing feeling of her thick thighs pumping off your shaft, eager to empty your remaining load you got. Tzuyu was enjoying the sight of yourself trapped and savoring the sensation of her strongest exual appeal.

"How does it feel having my thighs wrapped around your big cock, YN?"

"It's amazing..." You shut your eyes and gasped heavily at the feeling. "Shit, I can't hold much longer if you're doing like this to me Tzu!"

"Cum. Cum for me, YN. Let it out."

You assisted her legs on stroking you by holding her ankles while you buckle your hips, banging her juicy thighs smeared with your pre-cum as it ripples from the impact until you shoot another stream of sticky cum all over it including her knees.

Tzuyu lets you rest as she removes her legs from you and scooped all your cum on her fingers before eating it. She also cleaned your softening cock in payback to what you did to her ass a while ago, sucking it off until no drops are left.

She laid her head beside your arm and cuddled at your body. "I'm sorry if this is too sudden, YN. I got carried away that I started to act like this."

"It's fine, Tzu. You just wanted to destress, let's say in such different way." You nodded. "But it doesn't matter, as long as I get to make you happy and satisfied, I'm always open to accompany you."  You smiled at her and caressed her hair. However, it disappointed when you changed from becoming serious.

"And also, I should be thanking you too Tzuyu for this moment. I've only done this for the first time with a woman, and... to be honest I have to dare myself saying this to you that... you are my ideal girl. The one that I admire for months now. The one that my heart only prefers." Your confession was heard in such clear and simple statement by Tzuyu, and she was very strucked and touched listening at your words.

"And what we did means so much to me because I get to do it with the girl that I love, although it saddens me to think if do you even feel the same as mine. I know I could've confessed to you in a much better setting and better time but I just want to express it all right now to clarify that these isn't just driven from lust, but through my sincere admiration for you that is swirling inside my heart. I love you, Tzuyu."

Tzuyu pursed her lower lip and smiled sweetly at your message. She holds your hands and looked dearly at you. "I'm relieved to know that this is both our first-time having sex together. I was a bit nervous and shy at first but I just let my desire and desperate need of your touch control me, and I'm also glad that it has to be you too, YN. I couldn't imagine other deserving man than only you who I can allow take my virginity."

She went forward and turned your face at her to perform another passionate kiss. "Because I love you too, YN and I will cherish this moment that we did."

"Through that, I must take responsibility for this too. Now shall I ask you something then?" You said.

"Go on." She chuckled.

"Will you be my girlfriend, Tzuyu?"

She grinned brightly at your initiation. "I would be very willing to."

After your heated session with Tzuyu, both of you went to wash yourselves again while doing another quickie session after can't stop getting enough yet with your insatiable bodies.

Now back on getting dressed up, you and Tzuyu proceeded to discuss about her family problem story where you have finally lended some advices for her that might be helpful about their current situation.

More than a week later, you helped her to return back on their home after saving enough courage to confront her parents. When they saw her made her heading back to their home, the married Chou couple welcomed their daughter as they have now settled into peace.

Tzuyu and you then decided to maintain their relationship secret for the meantime as they start to date and explore their affection for each other further. You are also planning to accompany her on looking for a part-time job after she decided that she really needs it, as she prepares herself to balance it with her studies. Not forgetting this kind of relationship you established with her, you and Tzuyu would proceed to fulfill more of your fantasies together mostly taken place at your home like pleasuring yourselves in other various positions that involves rimming, entertaining yourself when one of you is bored by feasting on her pussy, boobs and your cock, or even your most favorite of them all: compressing your face in between her flawless ass and thighs until you end up unconscious.

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

┊┊ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. Aϝϝliƈƚiσɳ ┊┊ཻུ۪۪

彡 A Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Cursed!Male!Reader | SMUT 彡

＊ Contents ; Obsession, stalking, masturbation, masochism, kind of non-con sleep blowjob, rough sex, murder, handjobs, and worshipping.

＊ Dynamic ; Soft Yandere/Admirer to Lover

＊ Sexual Dynamic ; Sub!Gojo Satoru | Dom!Male!Reader

＊ P.O.V ; Third

＊ Age Range ; 18+ (This is younger Gojo by the way.)

＊ Music suggestion ;

┌──────── • ✧ • ────────┐

Satoru was a man of many. Intelligent, charming, unserious, and funny; he had no problem with meeting people outside and inside of school. Rather, he had quite a bit of friends, set up the day he was born with everything he needed for a social life. Handsome, strong, and labeled better than everyone else. That was him. And he knew this very well.

It was no secret that he took advantage of it. In his spare time, Gojo was known for hooking up with various women and men like it was some sort of fun game where he needed to collect as many bodies as he could. Just to be on top of the ‘Who’s most fuckable pyramid?’. It was his thing. He was number one. He needed to have everything. Just, because, he was Gojo Satoru.

Many spread the word on how he was in those behind-the-scenes exchanges, his fucking skills not short from all his other accomplishments, perfection at its finest. And one thing that was the most mentioned about the sorceror was how no one… NO ONE… could get him to fall for them. No matter how many times they gave him gifts, no matter how much they followed him, he never looked their way once after they got alone for a simple bang.

Instead, they’d be the ones to fall head over heels and never got over the rejection. That was his specialty. The reason why he gained a fan base. And he was flattered by it. Amused even. But, it never convinced him to get with any single one of them. That would never happen in a million years.

After many shunned attempts from his classmates, old friends, and one night stands to get with him on a relationship level, they assumed that Satoru was full-on Aromantic. That the man loved himself too much to get something like a crush. Or he was in a completely different world than them because of his power.

Those weren’t the real reasons as to why Gojo wasn’t interested in them, however. He just didn’t feel drawn to that vulnerability. How they were so easy to figure out with a simple look from him. Knowing everything like this was the biggest challenge for him. He was stuck, endlessly bored because all of his options were predictable, and not one of them entertaining enough. No threat. That’s how it was.

Until sophomore year of the Jujutsu college was when he came across someone out of the ordinary in the school hallway. He happened to be a new student, transferring from a completely different part of the world, and the amount of cursed energy leaking from his aura made the sorcerer stop in his tracks.

When the man turned to look down directly into Satoru’s eyes as he walked past him, it sent shockwaves through his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. For the first time in his life, he found somebody that he was unable to read.

At first, he was in denial about it. He couldn��t understand why one person would be different from the rest when it came to his perception. So, to figure it out, he began to follow the guy around.

Don’t ask why he didn’t approach him first, he didn’t know why, but he couldn’t. His heart would beat irregularly and he’d start to sweat, his entire chest and face heating up if they locked eyes at all. Maybe it was because his [E/C] orbs were intimidating or because he was extremely fucking good-looking. Maybe both. All he knew was that he never experienced it before and that was terrifying.

He started with small stares from afar, prop up near the places he would spot him and watch what he would do for several minutes. Waiting until he left to walk right behind him and see where else he would go.

So far, he was about as normal as anyone else in routine. He’d walk to his classes, do his work, and focus hard on his studies throughout lunch. Burying his nose in books upon books that the white-haired man would never pick up. Yet, what he found intriguing was his lack of interest in others.

The man didn’t socialize, ever. He would get up from his seats and tables whenever somebody would sit next to him. If they tried to talk to him, they were ignored like they were a wall. He’d ignore them, throw their notes to him in the trash, and any project he was assigned to was made for him to be alone. It was almost near impossible to grab a name. Thankfully, the system needed it to enroll and that was easy to get to.

Now, he knew that it was wrong of him to invade his personal space and illegal. But, Gojo had a severe problem with boundaries and it didn’t help that he could get away with it by teleporting. Also, he just didn’t care. A little curiosity never hurt him.

Eventually, he got to rummaging through the school records in the late hours of night, finding a file containing a name he didn’t recognize, ‘[L/N] [F/N]’. Pulling it out of its box, he opened it to check the picture and came face-to-face with a question mark box in place of it. His eyebrows furrowed and he scanned through the rest of what was listed about him.

The description of his features and classes were all there, things that he already knew, the basic stuff. But, this confirmed that [F/N] was his name and that’s all that mattered. Satoru was about to close the document and put it back before he glanced down at a small paragraph that read:

‘[L/N] is reserved to be under tight supervision and security conditions. He shall never be allowed to leave the city or Jujutsu without permission. If it falters, we will initiate our final plan.’

He narrowed his glowing blue eyes at the ominous writing, thumbing over the edges of the page while he thought to himself quietly, ‘I wonder… Is he as good as me?’ That idea crossed his mind and didn’t leave him alone. ‘Someone stronger than me… Is that possible?’ His fingers folded the paper back to where it belonged while trying to ignore himself, tucking it safely, and closing the drawer to make it look like nothing was tampered with. Then he turned around to get to heading out, not seeing the large figure looming in the shadows behind him.

It was by the time Gojo hopped out of the window he used to break into the room, that he realized [F/N] was plaguing every corner of his brain. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. Like his face was burned into his memory.

His gloomy, [E/C] eyes that bore a hole through him whenever he caught his attention. That sharp nose that gave him an edge, scrunched up at anyone that passed by. Plump, pouty lips that would frown as soon as he was being bothered. God, and that soft red tone resting in the middle of them, it made him think of the worst perverted things he could possibly come up with.

Satoru was tripping over his feet trying to get back to his dorm room, using the roofs of buildings, and traveling at a rate he could when dealing with a boner this bad.

Finally, right as he stumbled into his place, he began unbuckling his belt and sliding it off to throw it loosely onto the floor somewhere. He got most of his clothes off of him and left his boxers to be the last thing pulled off, his dick springing free and brushing over his lower stomach before he wrapped his slender hand around the base.

He played with his tip for a minute, beads of pre-cum sliding down and coating his fingers. Letting him cover his shaft the more he pumped. It was throbbing, blushing pink like cotton candy, and glistened in the moonlight of his room. And oddly enough, all of this was being done to a fantasy of sucking [F/N] off.

Gojo had never touched himself to someone individually before. Especially to someone he hadn’t hooked up with. And not in a way where they were on top or it wasn’t solely based on sex.

This was new to him and he was losing himself to it, badly. His hips thrusted upwards into his hand, the other one reaching up to his mouth so he could suck on his fingers and coat them with spit. Finishing getting them wet, he positioned two of them against his hole and slowly forced it inside.

He closed his eyes and imagined it was [F/N]’s, groaning at the abnormal feeling of being finger-fucked but enjoying it more than anything else. It barely took a couple of times of ramming them in before his cum began to spurt out in huge amounts. Decorating both his stomach and his hand in a stringy design.

After that night, Satoru came to a conclusion on how he felt about the [H/C]-haired man. This proved to be very, very frustrating.

The urge to see [F/N] was constant. It got so bad that he was leaving zero to little time for his friends, spending most of it on lingering near his newfound crush and drooling over any tiny thing he would do. And this went on for weeks.

Until one day, his obsession hit an all-time high. He was following him into the locker rooms like usual, having memorized this to be his routine whenever he was going to get ready for training. Although, to his disappointment, the guy would use his shirt and towel to cover himself when he changed. So he never even got a single peek.

But, today seemed to be different because [F/N] didn’t head toward his locker. He went in the direction of the showers, carrying a couple of items with him that looked like clothes and necessities. Excitement and nervousness rushed through Satoru. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was going to get to see the man in all of his glory.

To keep himself from being detected, he was suspended in the air near the ceiling in a sitting position, patiently watching him arrange the shampoo and conditioner bottles before gripping the hem of his black fitted shirt.

[F/N] stripped it off of him, going at a slow pace that was teasing the hell out of him. Gojo was on the edge of his seat as he took in every bit, biting his bottom lip when he got to his pants and slipped them off of his slim waist. His build was impressive and so was his stature, enough to make Satoru draw blood from how hard he was digging his teeth in.

It wasn’t surprising that the white-haired man went straight to unbuttoning his pants and pulling his hard-on into view. Watching how he washed his body and cleaned his hair, struggling to hold in his moans while getting off to the sight. He barely got past five minutes before he was cumming mid-air, the droplets landing in the corner and making a bit of noise, causing Gojo to abruptly rush out of there as soon as he saw him turning his head.

His back was pressed against the wall on the other side of the showers, his chest moving up and down, the butterflies in his stomach swarming. He reached down to tuck his dick back in and zip it up, glancing at his hands that were dirtied with his jizz. Satoru sighed, in disbelief at his own actions before he went for the nearby sinks to wash them off.

Just as he did that, the shower was turned off and out stepped [F/N] a minute later. He passed by him while he was drying his hands off, causing Gojo to tense. His beating heart hadn’t even calmed from what happened not too long ago, he couldn’t handle this. So, he spun around and bolted for the door faster than the two of them could speak.

A small smirk quirked up the side of the [H/C]-haired man’s mouth, his gaze drifting toward the disappearing back of him, smug with a glint in his eyes.

Eventually, days had passed and Satoru was still in the same routine with chasing around his crush everywhere. Except it spread to him casually visiting his place in the middle of night to spend the rest of it either watching him sleep or pleasing himself outside of his window.

There would be times where he would break in and take his things to use like boxers and lotion. But, he tried to make it unnoticeable. He cared about stealth. That was until one of those nights, [F/N] decided to wear nothing but underwear.

Gojo’s blue eyes were glued on his figure, feeling like it was his lucky day to get to see something as rare as this. He was used to him wearing tank tops and basketball shorts, a small peep of his waistband was the most action he’d get if the man happened to move. Getting too excited, he was already sliding his sweatpants to his knees, shoving a hand in to get to jerking off for the millionth time. He couldn’t get tired of it when it came to him.

But before Satoru started, he realized that the window had been cracked open slightly. It was left open. Open…

He stopped what he was doing to push the rest of it upward, climbing inside of the tidy room and shutting it right after. The warmth and the quiet atmosphere invited him in, making him almost feel at home. That wasn’t wrong considering he was found in this place daily, scouring and finding out any thing that he had in this room. Which wasn’t much. Only thing that he was interested in was the locked box under his bed. Though, he couldn’t bust it no matter how hard he tried.

Looking down at the peaceful, sleeping [F/N] made his mind wander to a darker side of lust, his orbs brightening like diamonds as he let his sweats drop to the floor along with his boxers. He stepped out of them and lifted himself using his ‘Infinity’, hovering over him and getting the real picture of their size difference.

Gojo steadied his breathing as best as he could while flicking his eyes over his boxers, peeling them off bit by bit. He had to be extremely slow, careful than ever. Because if he woke up, who knows what would happen to him? And that risky feeling was more than enough fuel for the sex-crazed man.

Once [F/N]’s dick was exposed, Satoru had expected to see it flaccid, but it was already halfway hard. ‘Hm? Is he having a wet dream?’ He came to that conclusion. His excitement worsening because of the assumption and ended in him jumping the gun. He lowered down to where his tip was, giving a small kitten lick and watching his expression to see what would happen.

He knew it was a terrible idea to do what he was planning on. But, he didn’t want to stop what he was doing either. Actually, the fantasy of him finding out was really hot to him. What would he do? Would he get upset? Degrade him a bit? He was sure he could get off to that too.

[F/N] furrowed his brows a little and a noise similar to a grunt came from him, letting Gojo have the clear to go further. He placed his entire tongue on it, swirling around the head of his dick at a medium pace, and tasting his salty pre-cum with a satisfied look on his face. God, how long had he wanted to do this? He couldn’t keep track. It wasn’t that long of a wait but to him, it was like he served decades in prison, being teased with the keys in the cell next to him.

More grunts slipped past [F/N]’s pretty lips, falling onto his ears, and encouraging him to take more into his mouth. He hollowed out his cheeks while bobbing his head up and down to give the finishing touch, pulling out his phone at some point to snap a thirty second video of what he was doing for safekeeping. Every sound of his was making his own cock leak with arousal, dripping onto his bed, and reminding him that he needed attention too.

He dropped the device to move his hand back down, stroking his shaft and playing with the slit on his tip, muffling his moans on [F/N] and getting dirtier with the blowjob. His spit was running down the sides of him, messy and spreading around his mouth. The bobbing turned into a circle motion and he progressively got faster and faster. Feeling his dick twitching once he deepthroated.

The [H/C]-haired man’s legs lifted slightly, bending his knees while he thrusted upward. His eyebrows completely knitted together and his noises only sounding more intense. He was nearing his end, Satoru could tell. And it was then that he popped his mouth off, gasping for air, making his other hand wrap around to jack him off at a speed so quick that there was no time lost.

He stuck out his tongue and pressed it right against the landing zone, an odd euphoric look to his eyes as he soaked in the moment like it was his biggest achievement yet. That was until he saw those [E/C] ones piercing right back at him, the color of them being replaced with a… glowing, dark purple? What?

In an instant, Gojo’s hair was swept through and grabbed into a fistful, lifted off of him and thrown into the wall next to them with a force strong enough to cause him to go through it. His eyes went wide, staring directly at the frightened face of one of his classmates who was awoken by the loud impact and flying drywall. Barely a second into the exchange of words through looks with the girl, he was yanked back into the room, and the men rolled together onto the ground.

[F/N]’s palm slapped across his mouth, digging his thumb and all of his fingers into both of Satoru’s cheeks; turning him around to face towards his chest so he could pin him down better. His other hand was locked tightly in a grip around his wrists, both of his knees underneath his legs, his usual cold stare replaced by rage. And what he was hoping earlier felt heard all of a sudden.

There, he got to meet his crush for the first time and have that closeness he’d been hoping to get. Or just a simple word back. Something. He craved for his attention so bad that he could threaten him and it’d still satisfy his desire.

Gojo’s surprise slowly shifted into a wide smile, his eyes having a crazier spark to them while he giggled, figuring out what [F/N] had done. It was a trap.

The sound of a concerned voice interrupted before he could speak, “Gojo-kun? Are you okay?” Satoru mentally sighed, his expression dropping to half-lidded annoyed glare. He heard a brief slip of a laugh from [F/N] and raised his brows in shock, thinking he was amused by his face until he felt something pushing against his lower body, entering right inside of his hole.

No, he wasn’t laughing at that. He was laughing because he was enjoying the fact he was going to be exposed. Satoru should’ve been turned off by that, but rather he was loving it himself. He didn’t know why. This was so unlike the upcoming head of the Gojo clan. Although, he lost it already once [F/N] buried most of his thick length inside of him. His soul looked like it was being possessed, a purple glazing over his blue eyes.

Thankfully, he was stretched out by his fingers previously because the width of his cock was big enough to still make it feel uncomfortable. His thrusts rough as soon as he got most of it in. He didn’t think it would hurt this much, feel this amazing too. The combining sensations fucking with his brain and making him melt into the powerful man’s hold.

[F/N] was inside of his head. Literally. He could hear him whispering things in there through his technique, “You’re mine, Six Eyes. All of that cursed energy… It’s mine now.” Mind manipulation. That was his technique. He figured it out.

No wonder he couldn’t understand what it was at first. It was one of the main attributes of the special grade cursed object, ‘[M/N]’s Needles’. That means that the small marks on his forehead weren’t birthmarks, it was needles, deep into his own skull.

A smirk grew on the side of [F/N]’s mouth when he saw the ‘Aha!’ look across Gojo’s face, an extremely low, nerve-wracking voice coming out of him as he leaned right next to the white-haired male’s ear to remind him, “You’re not winning anything. I think I’d like to take your offer up on making you my new fuck toy.”

Then the aggressive fucking from before turned into straight abuse on him, Satoru’s expression twinging through a mixture of exasperation and pure bliss. Locking eyes with the same girl he’d been stressing about when his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. She choked up and took a step back, watching her peer get destroyed. But not for much longer because she mysteriously got warped into space, disappearing from the room without any explanation.

Gojo peeked back at [F/N], psychotically smirking and letting out a string of loud, slutty moans and groans. Not holding back because he knew that nobody could stop them. Especially with such a strong curse at his side. Despite his knowledge on what he was doing to him, he also made sure he could take control of the situation too. And what that means is he formed a pact.

The young sorcerer leaned forward, summoning most of his strength to give him a kiss, struggling to keep his eyes open anyway. [F/N] didn’t kiss back, knowing what he was up to the second he heard the thought from Satoru. But, he kept insisting, pushing his lips harder and harder against his.

There was several attempts at rejecting him, but it didn’t matter. Even as [F/N] gripped his ass harshly with both hands, dug all of his nails in, and tore his bottom lip up more. He continued to plant the same kiss, going so far and desperate that he started making out with him. It didn’t matter if he responded to it because Satoru wasn’t just doing it out of tricking him into this pact. This was love. Twisted, fucked up, love.

[F/N] pulled away for the twelfth time, panting and surprised that he was holding on for this amount of time. By now, they’d be falling apart and passing out. And he had even switched it to his most effective position. Gojo’s back was pressed up on the wall, arched and his legs wrapped around his waist, struggling to hold on from him being quite tall. His hand was wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard to the point where he was coughing, making sure that he didn’t lift himself to kiss him anymore.

“Do you want to get yourself killed? Or do you want to cum and survive, asshole?” [F/N] spat, getting up to his face in a threatening manner. Satoru smiled back at him once again, managing to choke a sentence out, “I want both… please!” He was teasing him even in this situation. The grip on his soul never wavering yet he talked back. This pissed him the hell off.

Every ounce of his strength raged into Gojo immediately after that, the wall caving in on them, and the sheer volume of both of their techniques fighting one another in the midst of their exchange. His crystal blues spaced out and tilted up, staring off as he fell limp in [F/N]’s arms, his forehead pressing against his to give one last attempt.

The [E/C]-eyed man couldn’t resist the temptation. He didn’t know why. He didn’t think about it. He just did it. His lips smashed onto Satoru’s expecting him to be drained of anything that he could use against him. But, he was wrong. Dead wrong. If anything, the fate had been sealed right then and there from that action.

A knot was forming in [F/N]’s and his stomach as he panicked about the failure when feeling his power fade along with Gojo’s, the smile from before planting against his face right in the kiss they had. He tricked him into it. He fucking cheated.

So much anger was rammed into Satoru for the next few hours even after [F/N] and him finished at the same pace. His guts practically being filled with his seed over and over, then rapidly having it fucked in until it couldn’t escape. He paid him back for what he did. For ruining everything he had by tying a commitment to him he didn’t want. Although, for some reason, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Possibly looking forward to their time together.

|| Extra ||

Satoru weakly smiled at Geto and shook his head, answering his question on where he’s been the last couple of months with a soft sigh, “I’ve been getting around a lot. When you have this many fans, it’s hard to keep up.” The black-haired man looked at him, unamused; poking at his noodles. His baggy eyes seemed to be getting worse. Shoko chimed in a smart comment, “Is that why you’re getting hickeys now? You letting someone top you?”

Gojo froze and snapped his head at her, his serious face causing her to began laughing like crazy and exclaim out loud, “No way! So, it’s true! You are being bottom!” He raised his hands in the air at her and waved them around while denying it profusely, “You think someone can get one over me? Gojo! Satoru! Do you not know my name? What kind of crazy lady are you, huh?!”

They bickered back and forth until Geto split the two of them up and decided it was time for all of them to go their separate ways. He waved ‘Goodbye’ as he walked away, slipping his hands in both of his pockets before turning his head to look in an alleyway that he was barely about to pass. For a split second, he was sure he caught a glance of purple eyes peering back at him, but when he checked again; there was nothing.

He looked at the dark midsection of the buildings, waiting to see if something else would happen, and then walked on as soon as it appeared to be his mind playing tricks on him.

Little did he know, that later on in that same alleyway, after Shoko left Gojo alone. He was being fondled by the curse he now claims as his forever boyfriend and ‘fuck buddy’ who stood there, eavesdropping on him the entire day.

They switch roles in following each other. Happening to be [F/N]’s day. And they both couldn’t hold back the urge of wanting to fuck the shit out of the other all the time. Satoru never reluctant to letting the man have his way. And as he let the blue-eyed man finish from his hand, he dug his teeth into his shoulder blade, mentally shouting at him in his head, “Who’s on top again, pretty boy?! What did you say to them again?” His cum spurted everywhere onto the floor and his fingers, those eyes rolling back like usual while he muttered, “You, sir…. Only, you.”

[getyourdirtyhandsoffme]

D-RIDING?! PART TWO (18+)

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

GENDER: FTM READER (M!READER FRIENDLY)

SUMMARY: You, a famous YouTuber, got noticed by idol crush, Bang Chan, from an "accidental" drunk tweet you made when he was in BuzzFeed. Now you are waiting in your house to make that tweet into a reality.

GENRE(S): Smut (mercy on me yall), Explicit, Fluff, comedy (cringe because I need one mentally)

SEPARATE WARNING(S):

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ READER:

Role(s): Submissive Bottom. You are a versatile bottom because I said so.

Genitals: I made it separate since there are people out there who do have a bottom surgery.

T-dick section: So one will have you having a t-dick (mentions of squirting).

Dick Section: While a separate one in the same post will have you having a Penis.

(I don't want y'all feeling uncomfortable/Gender Dysphoria as a TransMan myself)

Names: Pretty boy, Baby boy, Handsome, Cutie, Sweetheart

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ CHAN:

Role(s): Dominate Top. Made him Versatile too.

Genitals: He has a big dick because of the big nose theory.

Names: Chan, Chris, love, pretty boy

OTHER WARNING(S): You both are virgins, Oral (Reader receiving), Mentions of Vagina/T-Dick(Mentions of squirting) for the reader along with a separate one of you having a Dick. Nipple play (Reader receiving), Reader getting Manhandled kinda, Choking? Not breathplay. Cum licking, Mentions of your chest scars (or just chest) Fingering. Anal sex. Beggingish?. Praising. Different words for Dick and Vagina. Crying (reader)

OTHER(S): y'all, please have mercy on me! I never wrote smut before so this might make me leap over a bridge!

Please like, reblog and/or comment for my dignity.

Tags: @braveangel777 @1s3v3n1 @kodasstar @webwanderer @coralblook @ironhyacinth @bitchyzombienacho

IM BEING SO FR, I CANT WRITE SMUT- I CANT WRITE SMUT! HAVE MERCY ON ME AHHHH!

(I DIDNT PROOF READ OR HAD GRAMMAR CHECK, YALL GOT IT!)

It was refreshing.

You lay yourself down on your bed wearing your pajamas, silk pajamas, covering your naked body. The silk only stops at your thighs.

You waited for Chan to message you as you scroll through your fans' comments; requesting collabs, games, or other content to record.

You keep on scrolling, almost forgetting about the whole sexual situation going on until you hear a knock from your front door.

You walk out from your bedroom, holding your phone out and texting him if he was the one behind the door of your front entrance.

CB97: Why don't you find out, Cutie?

You sighed, as you slowly unlocked the door then slowly opened the door to check it was actually him.

A white hand pushes the door fully, revealing the man himself, smirking at you. He was wearing a black shirt, compressing his muscles with baggy sweatpants.

He was checking you out, blushing a bit from the silk pajamas going nice with your figure and skin color.

"Don't you look lovely, pretty boy?" Chris comments, his eyes still lingering in your body.

You felt yourself getting flustered, shy even just from him staring at you. He steps closer to you while closing the door behind him.

"Can I touch you?"

You nodded and just by that Chris leans into you, kissing your soft lips while his hands roam around your waist, while one hand grips your butt.

You moaned softly around his mouth.

Your arms around his neck as your hands slowly reach to his shirt, gripping it as you push your face away from Chris.

He looks at you confused, giving you almost puppy eyes.

You thought it was cute. Yousmirked as you took him to your room.

He looks around, admiring your room until you smash your face into his lips again, catching him off guard but quickly kissed you back.

You both feel impatient, as you take off Chan's black shirt as he pushes you down on the bed, prying off the silk pajamas.

"You are already naked underneath, you were really expecting me, huh?" His accent, his voice raspy, making you want him more and more.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎WARNING: T-DICK SECTION

For the people with no bottom surgery/testosterone:

He had you trapped, both of his hands holding your waist as he leans into your chest, giving a few kisses on your chest scar (or chest)

"So handsome..." He mutters as he continues on kissing you as you feel his hands reaching up to your chest, caressing your nipples as the other hand reaches between your thighs.

You moaned, feeling his fingers playing around your folds.

"You are so wet for me, baby boy. Do I really get you this wet? I'm so flattered..." He whispers into your ear.

All you can do is moan, nodding your head as you feel your thighs parting from each other.

You look down to see Chan giving a few kisses on your left thigh then giving a few more kisses, almost getting closer to your wet folds.

"I want to taste you so bad, would you let me taste you, sweetheart?" He looks up at you, waiting for your response.

"Please, Chris! I need you.."

He smiles, leaning his head towards your t-dick, immediately licking and sucking your folds. Even getting closer to your small dick, giving a few licks.

You moaned, as you moved your bottom area getting more pleasure, almost riding his face. You even felt his nose touching your dick, sending more pleasure into your body.

Chan lets you as he continues on licking and sucking, moaning a bit, sending vibrations through your body.

You continue on moving your body, feeling yourself getting close. Your body is twitching, as Chris raises his fingers closer to your t-dick, rubbing quickly as you moan even louder.

"Chris—a~ah, I'm cumming! F-fuck!"

He sucks harder and even rubs even faster until you finally cum, squirting.

Chan licks one more time as he moves his face away slowly as he stands up, admiring your sweaty figure.

You sit up as your legs twitch a bit.

"Damn, I squirted. This kinda embarrassing..."

Chan just laughed as he leans closer to your face giving a few kisses to your forehead and cheek.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎WARNING: DICK SECTION

For the people with bottom surgery/has a dick:

He had you trapped, both of his hands holding your waist as he leans into your chest, giving a few kisses on your chest scar. (Or chest)

"So handsome..." He mutters as he continues on kissing you as you feel his hands reaching up to your chest, caressing your nipples as the other hand reaches between your thighs.

You moaned, feeling his fingers playing the tip of your dick.

"You are so hard for me, baby boy. Do I really get you this hard? I'm so flattered..." He whispers into your ear.

All you can do is moan, nodding your head as you feel your thighs parting from each other.

You look down to see Chan giving a few kisses on your left thigh then giving a few more kisses, almost getting closer to your hard cock.

"I want to taste you so bad, would you let me taste you, sweetheart?" He looks up at you, waiting for your response.

"Please, Chris! I need you.."

He smiles, leaning his head towards your dick, immediately licking and sucking the tip. Pushing his head down, giving you a good suck.

You moaned, as you moved your bottom area getting more pleasure, almost riding his face. Chan lets you as he continues on licking and sucking, moaning a bit, sending vibrations through your body.

You continue on moving your body, feeling yourself getting close. Your body is twitching, as Chris raises his hands closer to your balls, fumbling around as you moan even louder.

"Chris—a~ah, I'm cumming! F-fuck!"

He sucked harder and faster until you finally cum, some hitting his face.

Chan licks one more time as he moves his face away slowly as he stands up, admiring your sweaty figure.

You sit up as your legs twitch a bit.

"Damn, that felt weird...."

Chan just laughed as he leans closer to your face giving a few kisses to your forehead and cheek.

"But, you enjoyed it didn't you?" He questions, as he continues on kissing your face.

"I did, but let's get into the main event, shall we?" Chris chuckles as you stand back up, holding between his baggy pants, pushing it down and throwing it to the side.

He looks down at you while chuckling again, smirking from how impatient you were.

His dick flings up, standing a bit straight and even dripping with pre-cum.

You licked your lips, your mouth just watering from the sight of his dick, however, you felt yourself getting kinda scared since it looks big.

"Chan, how big is your dick? I mean I knew it was big because of the nose theory..."

"Huh, what nose theory?"

"Focus on the question and not the nose theory—I'll tell you that later."

You look up at him as he thinks, then shrug.

"I don't know, I never measured my dick before..."

"Fuck you mean you never measured your dick? You know what, wait right here. You grab the lube and the condom from the cabinet next to my bed."

Chan did exactly what you said while still looking perplexed that his dick size really bothered you that much.

You came back, holding a measuring tape.

You sat back down on the bed as you told Chris to come clover to your face. You felt his dick touching your cheek.

You licked your lips as you raised the measuring tape. Chan just chuckled on how focused you were.

"Is it really that serious...?"

You just nodded until you reached the top of the tip.

"Damn, 8 inches? I guess OT8 is for life, huh?"

Chan groans, as he smacks on top of your head softly. "Don't ever say that again..." He jokingly said, shaking his head, smiling.

"Anyways, let's continue."

"Gladly." He says as he pushes you down, putting you into a mating press.

You hear a bottle cap opened making you shivered in anticipation.

He squirts a generous amount into his fingers.

You felt his fingers circling around your rim as his other hand gripped your neck, holding you down.

You whimpered, shaking your butt for him to just insert in already.

"P-please Chris~ Fuck, hurry up!" You whined.

"Sorry baby boy, let me give you what you want~" He teases you as you feel one of his fingers inserting in.

You hiss in pain, not used to the feeling at all. Chan shushes you as he tries to calm you down, giving you a few kisses in your back.

"It will feel good, I promise..."

You calm yourself down, moving your waist side to side.

He gently plays with your rim as he slowly inserts another one. You hissed a bit but you could slowly feel the pleasure going through your body.

He continues on fucking you until he hits a certain area making you moaned along with your toes curling.

"Found it..." He whispers, hitting your prostate while inserting the third finger in.

You moaned, sending Chris's dick even harder; throbbing and aching in pain. He was getting hot and bothered—impatient—but he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable so he continued on. He adds a fourth one just in case after finding out his dick was 8 inches.

"Chan, love, just put it in already!" You whined.

You didn't need to tell him twice.

He quickly rips the plastic out with his teeth then taking the condom out and putting it on his dick.

He quickly takes his fingers off as he lines his dick up your hole, tapping it a few times until he slowly inserts the tip in.

You hissed again. Even though his fingers were thick, nothing could beat his thick cock (corny).

He apologized softly, while he hissed too from the clench.

"Fuck, so tight. I'm going to push in more, okay sweetheart?"

All you can do was whine while he slowly pushes in more. You both hissed again as you felt tears coming out of your eyes.

Chris hands both made it to your waist, going in circles.

He inserts more until finally he fills you whole.

He waits as he groans, your hole tightening around him as he tries not to cum just from it. He bites his lip as he caresses you again.

You felt warmth in your chest, loving the care from Chris and the fact he even was waiting for you to get used to his size.

You smiled softly as you shook your butt, making him grip your waist.

"You can move, love~"

Just like that, he pulls his dick out and slams back into you making you moan. He was already going rough, almost like a crazy animal.

He keeps on going, angeling himself a bit as he slams again and again, hitting your prostate.

You moaned even louder, gripping the sheets.

"F-FUCK~♡ CHRIS A~AH!" You cried out in pleasure as he continued on abusing your prostate. You felt overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure he was giving you.

You both moaned out of pleasure feeling yourself getting closer. He was getting closer as well, you feel his dick twitch inside of you.

He leans in, his chest on top of your back, whispering sweet words to your ears making you shiver.

"P-pretty boy~ I'm about to cum...Are you about to cum as well? Hmm?" He whispers.

You repeated the word 'Yes' as he continued slamming until finally you both released. Chan's cum filling the condom whole.

He steps out, taking the condom out and tying it then throwing it away into the garbage bin.

You turn your body around, laying flat, your back facing the bedsheets as you calm yourself down.

Chan walks up to you then lies down next to you. "I never did this before so I wanna know (Knaur) if I did good?"

You smiled, feeling horny all of sudden from his sweet voice. His duality from being all dominant to almost submissive—You kinda wanna ride him until he breaks.

"it's my first time as well, Chan and you did so well for me, love..." You said to him, kissing him all over his face.

He chuckles, smiling widely from your praises until he yawns, clearly drained.

"I'm tired, my body is tired. Maybe we should've had sexs not around the performance. Haha!" He laughs, not noticing your eyes staring into him like you were going to devour him.

"Yeah, but, I'm quite disappointed..." You sadly said—well pretending to be sad—using your fingers to trace around his neck.

"h-huh? Why? You said I did good?" He sits up, looking at you like a sad puppy. (There is no pet play)

"of course! You did so well, but my tweet. You remember it don't you?" You said calmly as you continued on looking at him.

He thinks for a second until his face turns red.

"O-oh."

Oh indeed.

"B-but, aren't you tired, I'm quite tired myself..." He rambles until you shut him up by placing your hands around his mouth.

"But you promise you want to make that tweet into reality, right? I want to ride your dick until you cry. Calling my name. Plus, I'm doing all the work. You can just lay down and look pretty, my pretty boy~"

His face turns even more red, all of sudden turning shy and weak. His cock going hard again, throbbing in anticipation.

"Even your dick seems to agree with me~"

You can't wait to actually make that tweet into reality.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Ending (myself) in part three.

YALL IMMA KMS, I CANT WRITE SMUT WTF AHHHH

[mickyschumacher]

style was so fucking good HOLY SHITTTTT can u please please please do a part 2 xx

𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after separating from carlos, you thought you would never ever have to see him again. but fate is demanding and it demands you bumping into him in a club. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy (bc where would we be without it), reader is younger than carlos but not like insanely, reader has vagina, angst, ferrari SLANDER, charles moves to redbull oop, GOOGLED SPANISH! I'M SORRY 😭, teasing, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies peeps!), oral sex, cumming inside, car sex = dangerous car driving, brief handjob, dry(?) humping, confession time AHHH, incorrect modelling stuff again lol, nicer!carlos ♡︎

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: complicated ex!carlos sainz x model!fem!reader, bestie!lily he x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+ (whoops)

𝐀/𝐍: a lot of people wanted a part 2 so.... here it is! i hope this is up to your par with what you were thinking about ♡︎ has bit of a build up but the smut is there! decently proof read... i think? my eyes are vv tired from these exams :(

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

Three years.

A lot can happen in three years.

For you that meant with some crazy luck becoming the World's top supermodel. Kendall Jenner, Gigi and Bella Hadid, Emily Ratajkowski... whoever the top once was, you had put them all to shame. You were booked and busier than ever. You could've sworn you used to get your beauty sleep but now you were lucky if you could even get an hour let alone eight. The billboards and the magazines loved you and the public, god the public, they cherished you.

Never had the world needed a relatable, kind role model more and there you were. A diamond in the rough, waiting to be seen. You were even on your way of becoming an entrepreneur in sustainable fashion.

Everything was going your way.

It was a surprise for you. After Carlos, you thought you would be moping forever. And you did, at least for a few days. But when your manager and stylist advised you to release your pent up emotions, you thought the best way to do that was fully committing yourself to your work.

No more relationships. No hookups. No races. No Carlos.

And somehow, it worked. You were a single supermodel who won over the public. No races, no Carlos. You were bringing your company money.

But yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about Carlos. His smugness, the puppy brown eyes, his touch, the little signs that he cared; the softening of the side of his eyes when he looked at you before they were ridden with lust or his need to have some part of him touching you; his hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, or soft circles rubbed on your inner wrist.

You missed him.

But that was three years ago.

You and Carlos didn't even run in the same circles anymore.

For Carlos, three years meant extending his contract with Ferrari, although God knows why, losing three chances at a championship, fighting with Adami over the radio far more than he liked, and losing Charles to Red Bull. All while feeling very empty. No one really recognised who Carlos was anymore. Not his family, not the drivers, and not the fans. Hell, he himself didn't know who he was.

Whoever Carlos was right now... it was the mere shell of who he used to be.

He was drinking far too much for an F1 driver celebrating other's podiums. And now he got angry. He didn't get angry, he seethed. He let himself feel vexed in order to get motivated. But now he was just angry and torn but not for no reason.

Carlos was an idiot. He had made an irrevocably stupid decision. Separating from you was the worse decision he had ever made. And that said something considering he had extended with the most infuriating F1 team of the past few years.

How could he have even made that decision? Normally, he thought things out. He was an F1 driver, for God's sake. Some sort of thought could be accounted for. But he didn't know what it was... maybe he was too emotional the night he was with you. Whatever it was, he should've thought it out.

God, Carlos should've realised that all he needed to do was put more effort it. You and him... it would've worked. He would've stopped hurting you. He would've been fully committed to you.

But no. He had fuck to it up.

To say Carlos hadn't been stalking your socials everyday was an understatement. Cumming to your name was a pre-race ritual that had now turned into checking what projects you were doing. Not to be dramatic, but to him, it felt like you were just keeping him alive, giving him a reason to live.

Carlos couldn't even muster the courage to call you and ask if you could talk. He didn't deserve that. Like he said, you deserved more. And all these fans and the fame and money... you deserved all of it and more. Staying away from you was the best thing he could do for you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos had made a terrible, terrible decision to attend the Miami after race party after saying he wouldn't. In fact, he couldn't. Not when he knew for a fact that you were in a club only down the street.

The temptation to see you was strong.

The club lights flared across the dance floor while the heat and humidity of all these dancing bodies clung to his warm skin. Carlos' hands shook silently at his side while Charles and Lando mixed in conversation. Every fibre of his body was telling his feet to stick to this floor. He couldn't see you. He was only going to ruin your night. He bit down on his lip, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.

But his heart... it was a strong heart. And it was telling him to take that five minute walk.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air," Carlos yelled over the music blaring in his ears. Charles and Lando gave the Spaniard a nod before returning to their conversation.

Carlos tried to make his walk to the club as long as possible, veering off to the side, staring far too long into the windows of other stores. But eventually, he stood in front of the thriving club.

You were celebrating having reached 50 Vogue covers, including the Big Four twice. You told your manager you were fine with having dinner at home but the refusal was immediate and came with the claim of you needing a break. So here you were, dressed in the most sparkly, skimpy, backless deep cleavage silver slip dress, dancing your ass off.

When Carlos entered the club, it was hard to miss you. How could he? You were the centre of attention, dancing around in your little dress that was fighting to cling to your body while everyone cheered you on.

He shouldn't of come. He knew it. Because now, he couldn't leave. No matter how much he knew that to leave was the right decision.

You, on the other hand, didn't notice Carlos so easily. You were having the time of your life, swaying your hips side-to-side as the beat coursed through your veins. Your skin was dotted with sweat while a handsome stranger had come up to you, clearly looking to hook up. And while you weren't looking to screw just anyone, you couldn't shy away from the little bit of grinding your body so desperately craved.

The euphoria wasn't as high as you had once felt but it was enough to keep you on your toes. Heat travelled through your stomach while your eyes closed and your head fell back as another man moved behind you. You were in a haze of pleasure that made your pussy ache.

God, maybe you were too desperate for some pleasure. Because why did it feel like Carlos' cologne had engulfed you? Why did the fire burning within you flare up even further all of a sudden?

Your eyes shot open and a gasp fell from your lips when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at the man with wide eyes.

"Cariño," Carlos breathed out, hooded eyes peering down at you.

Your throat felt constricted. Your eyes watered with anger and shock.

"No," You said, pulling yourself away from him.

"No, no, no," You repeated while Carlos took a step towards you, hand reaching out to stop freaking you out.

"Y/N... I–" Carlos was cut short as you raced towards your table and picked up your purse and jacket, heading towards the exit doors of the club.

You could hear Carlos jog to catch up with you. Sighing, you put on your jacket, striding as far as you could in those stupidly beautiful heels you had worn. But you seemed to forget that he was an athlete at the end of the day.

"Y/N, please. Don't do this," Carlos begged, an inch away from you.

Your lips sunk into your bottom lip, ears attempting to block out the warm voice you had been craving for the past three years. Your heart was racing against your chest while your mind fell into disarray.

"Y/N," Carlos repeated, grabbing your arm gently.

You sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, feeling the hairs of your body stand straight. You turned and looked up at him with with reddened eyes, making him pause for a second.

"Three years, Carlos, three goddamn years... of nothing," You exasperated with the familiar words falling off your tongue all too easily.

"I know. I'm–"

"'... so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses.' Is that what you were going to say, Carlos?" You asked incredulously, arms folded as if they were going to protect you from all this sudden pain.

Carlos winced at your words, staring at you helplessly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I was doing fine... and you... what the hell were you thinking, Carlos?"

A silence settled between the both of you as the cold night air raced to cool down your flushed cheeks. Carlos breathed deeply. "I-I... I missed you, cariño. That's what I was thinking. That what I have been thinking for the past three years. I miss you all the time."

You stared at Carlos silently, chewing down on your lip nervously. This was what you wanted. You had waited all this time to hear those very words fall from his lips. Yet all you could say was: "So? That doesn't change anything." The lie made you crumble on the inside but you continued to speak. "You said it yourself, Carlos, we aren't good for each other. That I... deserve more."

"And you do!" Carlos spluttered, hands flailing about. "You deserve more than a better man, Y/N. You deserve the fucking universe. But I was wrong! I was wrong to say that we aren't good together. We can be good together. I think you complete me and if you let me even have the chance, I would be the luckiest man ever to be with you."

Carlos' hands were now gently holding your face, thumb gently brushing your heated skin. Your heart was now pounding in your eardrums. Your throat was caught. You felt impossibly warm. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. "I... I gave you so many chances," You whispered.

Carlos' eyes softened at your broken voice as a sorry expression fell over his face. "I know," He sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't think I can ever forgive myself, cariño. But if I have to spend forever trying to make it up to you, I gladly will."

"Carlos," You sighed, closing your eyes. You were annoyed with yourself. Annoyed at the fact you were leaning into his touch and annoyed at the familiar heartache that always let him get away with what he wanted. "I'm terrified. I don't want to hurt again. I don't want to hurt you either."

Carlos felt his heart clench, jaw taut with irritation. Every fibre of him hated that you even had to say that. But you were right. You always were. He whispered softly, letting his forehead meet yours, "You won't. I promise. I promise to be a better man. Just please give me a chance... give us a chance."

You opened your eyes to see those desperate puppy eyes boring into yours. You brought your hand to the one holding on your face, rubbing it gently. You knew your answer the moment he asked. "Okay," You responded with a small smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Initially, it was hard to get as comfortable as you once were with Carlos. You took every step with caution and he could tell by the scrunch of your nose and the chewing of you lip when you pondered for a moment too long. It was eating at him but there was nothing he could do but fufill his promise to you.

Carlos took you out on several dates as opposed to the few he previously taken you on. They weren't grand. No. Instead they were intimate. Dates that showed he was putting effort in. Like the time he decided to have a dinner date at his house where all the food was prepared by him. It was disastrous to say the least but you were also convinced he had gotten his sisters to help him out given that there was burnt food in the trash and it's aroma covered by candles and perfume in the air.

A sunset picnic followed after that. It was one of your favourites. The sun was setting, of course, and the warm breeze brushed past you while you ended up reading one of your favourite childhood books to Carlos. He listened intently as his hands roamed your skin. It wasn't necessarily sensual but it was intimate. Like all he wanted to do was just bathe in your presence. And bathe Carlos did as he began to ask you questions about your childhood and your family.

It bugged him that despite being with you for some time, he knew nothing about you. At least not really. Knowing your body reactions felt superficial in comparison to finding out you had a family pet that you cherished so much, your financial hardships, or that your parents disapproved of your modelling. That really hurt him. You didn't have anyone close to you. And he had just left you.

Carlos mentioned to you how much of a polla he truly was, apologising for all you had gone through. And while you laughed at his comment, you thanked him, hesitantly pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Carlos gazed at you as his heart throbbed at your action. He stared at you with a twinkle in his eyes. There was something about this moment... he wasn't quite sure whether it was the setting sun that made you glow or that breeze that made your hair gently fly while your perfume consumed him, but it made him nervous and happy.

Carlos smiled at your raised brows. "You're just so beautiful, cariño."

You sucked in a sharp breath. That look in his eyes... it was the same one you gave him when you were just mesmerised by his beauty. And now he looked at you the same way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Three months had passed and you had finally stepped into the paddock after what had felt like forever. Everyone was psyched that you were back here. Fans were screaming your name and the drivers had finally seen the reason behind the sudden change in Carlos.

"So... you and Y/N?" Lando queried carefully, watching you talk to Lily and Alex about all the things the both of you had missed.

Carlos peered over to you, catching your passing eyes. His heart skipped a beat at your little wave and smiling eyes. He grinned at you and waved back.

Lando watched the exchange with curious eyes, pulling a feigned pained expression. "Yeah... you and Y/N."

Carlos rolled his eyes at the man who had become one of his closest friends. "Yes, Lando, we're together. We've... we've been taking it slow. So I don't fuck it up."

Lando smiled at Carlos' words. He slapped his hand on the Spaniard's shoulder. "Good," He chirped, before dropping his smile. "You better not. That's basically my best friend right there. You hurt her, you better keep an eye out for Lily and I, and Alex by association."

Carlos chuckled. "Imagine if Fewtrell heard that."

"What Max doesn't know won't hurt him," Lando shrugged.

Carlos smiled in amusement, finding you walking towards him with the previously mentioned couple. "What are you two trying to get my lovely lady to do?" He asked with narrowed eyes when you appeared with a suspiciously wide smile. A beautiful smile, but suspicious nonetheless.

You flushed at his words, taking in a deep breath. "I may have been convinced to do a bit of... ugh, golf."

Golf. Your most dreaded sport. From the moment you knew what it was, you could not think of a more boring sport to save your life. No offence to Lily, but it was an old man's sport. And every F1 driver playing it did not help. But Lily being the amazing girl she was had changed your mind.

Lando cheered and Carlos' eyes widened slightly. "How did you manage to convince her? Even I couldn't get her to join me. Me out of all people."

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. "I think your win from me golfing is a little different from Lily's. Lily wants me to learn."

"Yeah? And what do I want that is so different?" Carlos asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to me.

You stood on your toes a bit, reaching his ear. "Quieres verme con esa diminuta ropa de golf," You whispered in Spanish, pulling away from his ear. "Esa es la diferencia." You want to see me in those teeny little golf clothes. That's the difference.

You felt a familiar tingle creep up your spine as you met Carlos' darkened eyes and tightened grip on your waist. His tongue darted out, swiping his bottom lip while he eyed you carefully. You were a vixen. A final smug smile rested on his face. "You're right, cariño. That's exactly what I want."

Lily looked at you two blankly. "Anyone catch that?" She asked Alex and Lando, who both shook their heads. She sighed, "Leave it to us to not know one of the most popular languages in the world. See you tomorrow, lovebirds. Try keep your hands off each other, there's kids."

Lando gaped at Lily's side glance towards him. "Well I never!"

Carlos grinned at Lando's words, keeping an eye on you. "I'll try."

You drew a sharp breath. What kind of mess had you exactly set up for yourself?

━━━━━━━━━━━

To be honest, Carlos wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting when you had told him that your manager had sorted out a golf outfit since it was not like you were playing an official tournament. But when you arrived to meet Carlos, Lando, Lily, and Alex at the golf course, Carlos let out the most strained sigh he had ever released.

You were a model, sorry, a supermodel, you looked good in everything already. But you dressed up for his favourite pass time was killing him.

You stood in front of him in the sun visor that hid your long hair, wearing the absolute tightest sleeveless polo shirt known to mankind tucked into small little pink skirt that rested at the middle of your thighs.

God, you were leaving very little for Carlos to imagine. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do to you first: 'accidentally' splash that white shirt with water because he just knew by those nipples that you weren't wearing a bra or excuse the both of you to the bathroom where he could bend you over and fuck you senselessly.

Lily let out a low whistle when she saw you. "Y/N, the woman you are..." She clicked her tongue while shaking her head.

You laughed lightly as Alex look at her incredulously. "I'm right here, you know."

"Alex, are you a woman named Y/N?" Lily asked genuinely.

"I– no," Alex stuttered with furrowed brows while Lando grinned.

"That’s what I thought!" Lilly gave a smug smile, pressing a kiss to her boyfriend’s cheek before linking her arm with yours.

Alex stood with Carlos, blinking blankly at your retreating figures. “I don’t get it,” Alex told the Spaniard.

Lando chuckled while Carlos placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You don’t need to. It’s Y/N. Now come on. From what I know, you have a lot to learn from Lily.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

Carlos was already bracing himself for whatever antics you were going to put up. He was expecting your full on ass up against him, teasing him to the point where he did end up taking you in the bathroom.

But you had decided to go the hard way.

When Carlos was teaching you how to hit the ball and what angle to use the golf club, he severely used the opportunity to put his hands on your hips. He thought you were going to fall back into his chest and press up on him. But instead you decided to listen to his instructions all so intently.

Then he saw it.

Your tongue darting out past those perfect lips of yours, wetting all those crevices with a natural sheen before you sunk your teeth to concentrate on hitting the ball.

And after he had seen it, Carlos couldn’t see anything else normally. Or he would argue that you wouldn’t let him.

No way was the slip of the golf ball accidental. Not when he watched you slowly bend down to get it, revealing your delicious cleavage in the so very unfortunate cut of your polo. Not when he watched your pink skirt cling to your thighs tightly as your lips jutted out to blow away the dirt from the ball.

It was a golf ball, for God’s sake. Of course it was going to have dirt on it.

And as you stood up, you turned so your ass faced him, skirt hugging your ass tight enough so he could see a sliver of your bare pussy.

Carlos could swear that he had never clutched a golf club as hard as he had in his life.

To make matters worse, all you did was strut away with a smirk while you shamelessly checked him out all throughout the games, leaving him with a semi-hard he tried his best to hide behind the thin handle of the club.

You were torturing him without even touching him. And he hated it.

Carlos couldn’t even excuse himself nor you to the bathroom after you purposefully decide to cling to Lily, who was suggesting different methods to play.

The dreadful day had finally come to an end as everyone began to feel the kick of playing golf for so long. You and Carlos bid goodbye to Lily, Alex, and Lando, after your boyfriend definitely did not inform you that you were going back home with him instead of your manager.

After packing your things away in Carlos’ red Ferrari, you happily took a seat in the front, letting out a small yawn as you stretched your arms.

Carlos quietly eyed you as he reversed out of the parking lot. “Tired?” He asked.

You nodded with slightly heavy eyelids. “It takes a lot of energy.”

“I agree,” Carlos nodded. “Teasing takes a lot of energy, hmm?”

Your eyes were fully awake now. You peered at the side of Carlos’ face. His jaw was taut and hands tightly gripped the wheel. You tried to hide your teetering smile but it was difficult. You just loved riling up Carlos. Especially sexually.

“A lot,” You agreed, also nodding before you moved your eyes out your window to prevent you from fully grinning.

Carlos internally sighed. You were a menace.

As he drove to his hotel, an idea popped into Carlos’ head. He knew the way to hotel and golf course like the back of his hand. He also knew that in two left turns, there was the most sketchy but quiet road in town.

Carlos pushed down the indicator, watching the left arrow blink rapidly at him while he turned the wheel. He could see your head turn to him in curiosity.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

Carlos smiled softly, shaking his head as if it was nothing while taking the last left turn.

You raised a brow. You feigned a gasp. “Is this where you kill me? Is this how I die? On some road in Miami?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Yes. How did you know?” He deadpanned.

Carlos parked the car in between some trees, ensuring that all the windows were fairly covered because no matter what, at the end of the day, he cared for both for your images.

Carlos turned to find your eyes already on him, waiting for an explanation. “You know the last time we met in Miami?”

You blinked blankly at him. “How could I forget?” You retorted sarcastically, covering up any last few traces of pain associated with that trip.

Carlos pursed his lips, smiling apologetically. He took your hands into his, rubbing them gently. “Well, when we were in the car, I had this vision—well I always have this vision but it was strong then, anyways—I had this vision of fucking you in this car, on the highway, ass on the wheel, making a mess on me, and making you cum so hard that you cover that Ferrari logo.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes dilated in pleasure. Suddenly you felt tingly all over your body and a strong heat pulsating in between your thighs. You pressed your thighs together at the thought.

“So I thought,” Carlos confused, smirking at your action, “although you’ve been a tease, I would still like to fuck the life out of you, cariño. Isn’t that so nice of me?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You wish you had the urge to roll your eyes. You really wish you did. But your breath was caught in your throat and you just felt a dribble of arousal leak past your aching core.

Instead you moved over to Carlos, putting a leg on either side of him and brought your lips to his.

Carlos immediately responded, hands flying towards your hips, gripping on your skin while he intensely kissed you back. He kissed you not just as a starved man, but a parched man. As if your lips were water and all he could do was drink you.

Your stomach churned with a familiar fire of pleasure. Your skin raised with goosebumps as Carlos’ thumbs circled your skin through the fairly thin fabric of your polo. A muffled moan was lodged in your throat the sound of Carlos’ grunts.

Carlos’ hands moved from your hips to the hem of your skirt. His hands dipped under the pink material that had been enticing him all day, feeling the ample flesh of your bare ass. An audible moan came from his throat as you had moved your lips to his neck to stop drinking those beautiful sounds.

“You’re such a tease, you know that? No fucking underwear so I could see those juicy lips of yours? Were you just waiting for me to take you from behind? What if Lando saw? Hmm?” Carlos queried, groping your ass while his fiery puppy browns pierced into your eyes.

You let out a small whine against his heated neck, bucking your hips against his cock.

“You like that, cariño? The idea of getting caught?” Carlos asked even though he clearly knew the answer if he looked down at the dark stain beginning to form on the front of your skirt.

Carlos smiled softly at your impatient eyes, pressed your hips onto his groin. “Grind on me, cariño. Make a mess on me,” He whispered, taking your lips with his once again.

You moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth in his bulge. The wave of arousal you craved slowly creeped up on you. The hard textured material of his shirt felt like a sin against your pussy. Carlos’ hands helping you keep your pace and making sure you felt every part of hard-on set you on fire.

Smoothly, Carlos used one of his hands to sneak up your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers leaving you in a blaze as he grazed your skin. “That’s it, cariño, that’s it,” He murmured against your lips. His fingers confused past the apex of your thigh, nearing your burning core.

Fuck, were you turned on. The heat radiating off your pussy was dangerous. His thumb edged towards your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves ever so slowly.

“Shit,” you swore, arching your back against the steering wheel. Your pussy ground up against his fingers while trying to press further on his cock; entertaining both levels of pleasure.

Carlos felt his cock tighten painfully against his hands when he moved his eyes from you and down to where your pussy met him. God, you had made a mess. His eyes flickered back up, watching you obscenely cover the Prancing Horse. “Merde,” He cussed.

This was how he wanted you. Fuck. Making a claim on everything that belonged to him with your body. Just the way he wanted.

You could feel Carlos dip his head forward, giving a long lick to your right nipple. You were sure your white polo was now see through, letting your pebbled mounds become available for Carlos’ disposal. You moaned, feeling your pussy become sticky with pleasure as Carlos pulled down the cut of your polo, freeing your breasts from those teasing confines, watching them bounce in admiration before he wrapped his lips around your nipple.

You arched your back even further, pushing your breast into his mouth while the other hand resting on your hip moved to fondle your lonely nipple, leaving you to do the rest of the work. "Carlos," You cried out breathlessly, speeding the pace of your hips as a familiar coil began to unwind at the pit of your stomach.

Carlos knew that tone better than he knew his circuits. Unlatching his swollen lips from your nipple, he looked up at you, making you moan even further. It was hard to disagree that Carlos was a good looking man, but right now, you were seeing him like no other: puffy lips, sweat-ridden tousled brown hair, cheeks freckled with pinks and reds, dark lust-hazed eyes... all for you.

"Don't cum just yet, cariño. I need to be inside you," Carlos panted, his tongue swiping his lips drenched.

You shuddered at the action before looking at him in dismay. "Carlos. Papi, no. Por favor." Please.

Just when Carlos thought his cock couldn't harden any further, you had proven the impossible. He held your chin in his hand, forcing you to hold his gaze. "Don't do that, cariño. Don't papi me. I'm already being so nice, hmm? Be a good girl and listen to be, okay baby?"

You sighed in frustration but you hips eased it's speed, succumbing to Carlos without a second thought.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of your head, continuing to rub your clit excruciatingly slow. "That's my girl," He praised, pressing you right against the steering wheel as he lifted his hips up.

Naturally your hands fell to his shorts, eagerly pushing down the pair of clothing as far as you could in this space. Your mouth salivated at the large bulge in his grey boxers. It was like his cock was greeting you; aching to me to you. In awe, you put your hand over his hard cock, softly brushing over the pulsating bulge.

"Fuck," Carlos sighed, eyes closed, feeling like he was on an obscene high already. He felt you gently trace over his thick cock, going even slower when you reached his tip, painstakingly grazing his slit through his boxers. He shot out his hand, holding yours in place.

Carlos swallowed all the saliva that he had gathered after seeing your wide, almost innocent, eyes beaming at him while a sickly sweet smile sprawled across your face. Jesus. How did he ever let you go? Now that he had you, he most certainly couldn't.

You grinned, knowing exactly how to awake the monster within him. You pushed down his boxers, letting him fully settle into the seat of the Ferrari and his cock stand against his toned stomach with a shade that almost made it look like it was angry with you for taking this long.

Gathering all the saliva in your mouth, you let the hot clear fluid slowly fall from your lips and onto his cock. Carlos sighed at the feeling, thumb reaching out to gather the last few drops from your lips before you brought it into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the pad of his thumb, giving him a pre-show before you released him.

Carlos watched as you bent down towards his cock, using your hand to rub your saliva down his throbbing cock. You could feel him pulsing in your hands, dying to be inside you. You lifted yourself back up, signalling Carlos you were ready.

Carlos' hands skated up your skirt, grabbing your bare hips as he guided you over his cock. All this time he had been teasing you as awfully as you had teased him today, so when you felt his cock against your wet folds, you let out a gasp while you hips bucked against involuntarily.

"Jesus fucking Christ," You swore, shuddering at the intoxicating high swarming through your body.

Carlos' cock throbbed against your pussy. He loved your sensitivity, so he pushed himself through your folds again, tip rubbing against your stimulated clit. He grunted against you. He could watch your body defy you over and over again.

But as much as he loved it, Carlos had been waiting to be in you liked a starved man.

Carlos' eyes flittered up to yours while he slowly pushed his cock into you. He memorised you carefully. Every twitch, every quiver. Your parter lips, the frequency of your moan. The contortion of your eyebrows while pleasure laced your eyes. He could remember you like this forever; his beautiful girl.

"Carlos," You panted, "more, please."

"Your wish is my command, princesa," Carlos whispered against your skin, pushing his hips further into you. His hands tightened around your waist, the warm grip of your folds pulling him in like a drug.

You knew it then and you knew it know. Carols had bewitched you. You would never be able to get enough of this feeling. The feeling of his cock jerking into your pussy because he just can't control himself. Nor the feeling of sucking him in like a vice because you want him all to yourself.

Carlos moaned, thrusting his aching cock while he muttered obscenities as if he was under some sort of spell. For what it was worth, he was. Every day, you entranced him. But right now, the sight of you against the Prancing Horse that was waiting to be covered in your cum... your saliva-covered breasts bouncing, your arched back against the wheel... it was driving him crazy. You were driving him crazy.

Your hands travelled to his hair, lips grazing past the bridge of his nose while you groaned. Your fingers wrapped his dishevelled brown waves around them, giving his locks a slight tug that coursed down his body.

Your hips ground against Carlos harshly, attempting to take any extra sliver of euphoria. His cock drove in and out of you at a rate that left no innocence in this car. It was lewd; the slapping of your sticky skin against one another, your breathless pants mingling together, and the fogged windows occurring from your feverish skin. Fuck, the both of you were in overdrive.

You let out a small whimper when you felt your body start to shake. You looked down at Carlos, who was peppering your bare shoulder with long sloppy kisses as he continued to thrust. Your eyes softened and the coil in your stomach began to tighten. "Carlos, I–"

Carlos smiled at the urgency in your voice. He began to pick up his pace, let out a few breathless pants. "Cum for me, mi amor."

You shook your head. "No, fuck, fuck, I–" You closed your eyes at the nearing high but forced them to open again, finding those puppy browns staring you down with confusion and maybe, just maybe, a bit of trauma from the last time. But you just had to say it. "I love you, Carlos. I love you so fucking much, mi amor. And I'll love you forever," You sobbed out.

Carlos gazed at you with wide eyes, his pace faltering slightly. As much as it turned him on, his heart was probably ten times happier. He felt warm; complete. He softened his gaze, bringing one hand to your cheek. His heart swelled at your natural lean in. Brushing his thumb gently, "I love you so much, Y/N. So much. And I'll never forget to remind you until my very last breath. You're my entire universe, querida (darling)."

Your eyes watered with a sickening amount of love as your body was hit with wave after wave. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," You cursed, clenching your eyes, a few tears slowly falling. Your hips bucked up against him, reaching for the high as Carlos rubbed your clit in fast circles.

"That's it, mi amor. Cum for me. Cover the the entire fucking wheel. Make a mess," Carlos encouraged, pushing you against the wheel, making your body convulse even further at the new texture.

"Fuck!" You swore, pussy throbbing and hips involuntarily jerking, reaching your climax.

Carlos groaned at the tight clench around his cock.

"Cum for me, Carlos. Look at the mess I made. All because of you. All for you," You coaxed, riding your sensitive pussy over him slowly.

His eyes flickered to the black Prancing Horse covered in your arousal; each little crevice of the wheel soaking up your cum. God, the monster you made him... He grunted, speeding up his pace as the coil in his stomach began to unwind quickly.

"Fuck, fuck," Carlos moaned loudly, holding you tightly to him. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," He muttered like a mantra, hips stuttering against you. He twitched inside you, feeling the hot salty strings of his cum spill into you.

"Oh, fuck," He sighed again, head falling on your chest while you moaned at the feeling of his cum inside you, clenching just one more time. His cock throbbed with another small high, pumping the last few ropes of his cum into you.

You let out a slow exhale, lifting Carlos' head by tilting his chin to face you. You rubbed his face gently, leaving a trail of kisses on his face as you both calmed down. You eyed the fogged windows and turned to see the Prancing Horse that had started this whole thing in the first place. You laughed softly.

"Well that was a stylish vision you had there," You remarked with a grin.

Carlos grinned right back at you. "Oh, cariño, we are doing that at least once every week."

"Oh, really?" You teased, putting your hands around his neck. "Well this type of car sex is definitely my style," You agreed after some feigned thinking.

Carlos smiled, tucking your sweaty hair behind your ears. He placed a long kiss on your lips. "It's our style."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[wonysugar]

Sana spotting reader in the crowd at the concert and keeps looking at her the whole show, then tells her manger to bring you backstage after the show and she ends up taking you back to her hotel room…smut of course. Thank you!

tags : belittling, humiliation, spanking (or just plain degradation if you’d like), sana has a strap, smut with plot!

content warning : smut! that’s..it lol

pairing : fan!femreader x sana minatozaki

word count : 2k

a/n : thank you so much for requesting, sana’s my bias so i had a super fun time writing this!!<3 also I’M SO SORRY FOR KEEPING YOU WAITING!! i hope the wait is worth it!

there you were, standing in line for the twice tour concert happening in your city, you would’ve came with a friend, but nobody in your circle really likes kpop the way you do.

plus, you didn’t want anyone you knew to see you fangirling over a girl group who doesn’t even know you exist which would get significantly worse when sana comes on stage.

you brought your twice lightstick and a silly little sign that reads “sana please kiss me i need you badly”, this was a one in a lifetime opportunity, you needed to confess your undying love to your soulmate if given the chance! listening to your own thoughts playback in your mind, you giggled at your delusions. god, you’re hilarious.

before you knew it, the line progressed and you were finally sat for the concert. fanchants ready to be yelled out, lightstick set up. oh you were so ready. plus, you got front seats too, so you were even more hyped.

then, they appeared. suddenly, everybody just lost their shit you included and started screaming for their bias. song after song, dancebreak after dancebreak, the crowd was going absolutely wild. while yes, you were enjoying the performance as a whole, but you just couldn’t stop staring at your favorite member. and surprisingly, she stared back most of the time! smiling at you and winking as she sang, just basically fueling all of your delusions. the rush of it all gave you the confidence you needed to do this.

you waited until she looked at you again and just held the sign up, you didn’t give a single fuck about the people behind you, they didn’t matter! you needed to make sana remember you by something, even if it was lowkey embarrassing!

she took a few moments to read it, squinting her eyes, then.. giggled??

oh she wants you badly!! is what you told yourself because you and facing reality are not a good match! she took the sign from your hands and showed it off to the other members, earning a bunch of laughs and giggles from them, followed by some talking.

oh nevermind, she’s most likely making fun of you.

embarrassed, you started looking around, pretending you didn’t know what was going on as if everyone didn’t just see that she grabbed the sign from you. but then, you spotted her writing something on it with a sharpie. intrigued, you watched her as she finished up writing. she jogged over to you and handed you back your sign as she winked at you. you smiled nervously and muttered a confused ‘thank you’ before your eyes darted at the writing.

your eyes widened, both in confusion and very pleasant surprise.

‘stay here after the concert, a manager will come get you ;)’

oh my god.

-

the final song finished and everybody cheered loudly for the last time. you had a great time, but you just couldn’t stop looking at your sign, reminiscing about what she was planning. was she trying to get you arrested? why would she wink though.. maybe she winked just so you would stay and THEN she’d get you arrested???

your mind ran wild as you quickly reached for the exit of the arena, trying not to get caught by whoever was out to get you, but before you could, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

fuck.

“excuse me, ms. minatozaki is requesting to see you, i believe.”

trying not to hide your defeat and fear of what could possibly happen, you nodded. “yup. lead the way!” you said, over enthusiastically. he motioned for you to follow him and he took you backstage, where, surprisingly, no other members were present. just her. you unintentionally gulp as the staff leaves you two alone.

god she’s literally staring you down. you would’ve been excited about being so close to her in person but the situation right now was kinda preventing that, you fidgeted with your hands. right as she was about to speak,

“are you gonna get me arrested? look, it was a silly little joke i had no intentions of making you uncomfortable and i’m honestly really sorry if i di-“

“relax, baby” she interrupted, “i found it endearing. i mean, it’s not like you’re a creepy old man, are you?” she slightly tilted her head as she asked the question.

you hesitantly shook your head. wait, did she just call you baby?? you felt that you could just die right then and there.

“so, why are you panicking? if i was trying to get you arrested, i wouldn’t be smiling and winking at you all show, would i now, cutie?”

your jaw slightly dropped at the amount of pet names that she just kept casually throwing around. does she not know what that can do to someone who’s like. infatuated with her??

“no, you wouldn’t, i don’t think.” you stuttered out. she giggled at you, eyeing you down, her gaze ending up on every single part of your body.

“are you free tonight?” she asked you, an innocent smile plastered on her face.

-

quite frankly, you were originally planning to go home right after concert, lay on your bed and watch tiktoks for like 5 hours straight but… let’s just say making out with the sana minatozaki on her hotel room’s bed was significantly better than that.

she unfortunately pulled away from you and looked into your eyes as she slightly panted, “what are you into, baby?” she asked you.

not knowing what to respond, you looked around nervously, still not over the fact that you’re about to fuck an idol?? your favorite one, at that. was this even allowed???

“uhm.” you finally responded, “i don’t know.. girls?” you awkwardly chuckled.

fuck, maybe being funny wasn’t the best approach, she looked like she was genuinely asking. you could tell from the drop of her expression that she was getting impatient, she subtly sighed, almost pulling away from you.

which…. you always found it kind of sexy when she got frustrated at her other members, or something of the sorts.

biting back a shy smile, you kept staring at her. then, as if something in her mind clicked, something in her eyes sparkled and she smirked.

“oh… i see where this is going.” she playfully smirked, getting closer to you again as if she could feel your face growing hotter by the second. “you’re into people treating you like garbage, aren’t you?”

you hesitated, but you ended up silently nodding. was she psychic??

“oh how cute. so if i were to fuck you roughly as i called you names, you’d like that, hm?”

you froze, then turned your head to look at anything that wasn’t her face. god that sounded so hot.

“answer, you bitch.” she grabbed you by the jaw and made you look at her, her eyes piercing through you. you swore that you could’ve came right then and there, but you obviously had and wanted to keep this going.

“y-yes sana, i’d like that. alot.” you squirmed under her, her eyes still not leaving yours. she scoffed.

“i knew you were a complete slut as soon as i saw you.” she kissed your neck, earning a relieved sigh from you as she unbuttons your shirt. “also,” she added,

“it’s ms. sana, got it?”

-

next thing you knew, she was violently dicking you down from behind with her strap. wait, why did she even bring it along with her on tour? whatever, that didn’t even matter right now, what mattered was that your twice bias was literally inside you and that you felt like you could squirt just from that. an exaggeration, but she was just that good at fucking you.

“fuckfuckfuck sana right there..” you moaned out, throwing your head down on the pillow before you stammered nervously, “i-i mean, ms. sana!”

in response, “aren’t you a cute thing. this is the fourth time you’ve made that mistake. does it feel that good?” you heard her giggle. okay, she didn’t sound mad, but you still needed to be careful next ti-

before you could even finish that thought, though, you felt her hand smack one of your cheeks with full force, making you flinch and unintentionally whimper at the impact. fuck, that hurt.

“apologize.” she coldly ordered you, her pace getting faster by the second, causing you to lose your breath. recollecting your thoughts, you let out a nervous “i’m s-sorry ms. sana fuck i’m sorry..”

“god.. look at you. ass up for a girl you barely even fucking know.” she hummed, clearly amused by all of this, amused by how easily you gave in. she gently scratched and pet your head as she would a dog, still roughly pounding you from the back. “are you stupid or just a horny bitch?” she mockingly giggles.

“that’s just what you are, isn’t it? a little bitch in heat. hm?”

if her purpose was to fill you with shame, then it was very much working. you felt humiliated. when you really thought about it like that, you are literally letting a stranger fuck you. not only that, but you went to her hotel room. maybe she was right, maybe you are just a whore.

“come on baby, say it. admit how much of a slut you are.” she pulled on your hair, forcing you to hold yourself up. you whimpered and moaned loudly at the sensations, trying your hardest to form a correct sentence, “yes ms. sana i’m a s-slut! fuckfuck i’m a slut for you p-pleaseee fuck me harder..”

your dignity and self-respect now long gone, your only priority was cumming. she probably caught onto that quickly, though, since she immediately started changing her pace, going at a much slower speed, much to your despair. you whined. “such a good bitch for mommy. are you getting close?” she asked.

mommy?? oh this woman wanted you dead. her words and the noises coming out of her contributing in making it harder for you to keep your composure. god you were a mess, being undone like this, being used like this, being at someone’s mercy, sana’s mercy. it turned you on so much.

moaning out consecutive mhms in response to sana’s question, she hummed, grabbing your waist. then, unexpectedly, she rams into you, her strap fucking in and out of you, covered in your slick. “then we’ll cum together, okay?” she orders, panting. you eagerly nod, head pressed into the pillow.

you feel your orgasm building up, your noises getting higher and louder. she quickly started shamelessly moaning louder too, good girls and just like thats escaping her mouth.

it didn’t take long before her breathing stopped for a moment, pulling on your hair with such a force. she moaned out your name, and that’s when your own mind blanked. that feeling in your lower stomach was now replaced with complete euphoria, and it was amplified by the fact that you knew it was caused by sana. you didn’t care about how loud you were being, you didn’t care about the people next door, you wanted them to know who was making you feel this good.

as you both came down from your high, you felt her pull out. it took you some time to actually sit up, but your legs weren’t exactly in the best state right now.

“do you do this to every fan you meet?” you ask her, laying down on your side, sounding kinda muffled due to your head still being in the pillow.

“hm, no. i’ve never done this before. i guess it was something about you.” she said, smiling as she was tying her hair and then eventually taking the strap off of her, setting it down on the nightstand.

then, you remembered your so called delusions. maybe they weren’t entirely delusions after all!

-

you took your bag, all dressed up and ready to leave the hotel room, she on the other hand, stayed naked, because that’s apparently how she sleeps. you say your goodbyes very obviously eyeing her bare body and head to leave, but she stops you.

“here’s my number, i’ll text you and eventually let you know when we come back here.” she winks at you, then sends you on your way.

well! getting dicked down by sana minatozaki wasn’t exactly on your bucket list this year, but it was certainly very welcomed, considering you went back home giggling to yourself and did your own thing when you arrived home, still thinking about all of it..

from now on, you could never allow yourself to miss the upcoming tours.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Immortal (Ghost x Medic!Reader Pt. 3)

"The path to paradise begins in hell."

— Dante Alighieri

Word count: 5.5 k

Summary: He knows now why he always returns to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased. What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead? (Last part of Ghost stories.)

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff, smut. Protective!Simon Ghost Riley. Graphic depictions of PTSD, suicidal thoughts and depression, mild violence. Emotional sex, love confessions, happy ending. Ghost POV.

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

No one has ever scolded him.

He's the one who whips people into shape, who makes them recall who and where they are, that Task Force 141 is no place for fuckery. Now he's the one being reminded of his place. 

Somehow it's ok to bring her flowers before dinner, but ever since he started to bring her coffee to get an excuse to see her at work, she began to shut down. He can fuck her doggy style at her place, but if he so much as lifts his mask to kiss the back of her neck at her office, she bats him away like an annoying fly.

And he's fucking confused.

He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought that women like to be courted. Now he's standing in the middle of her apartment, waiting for… he doesn't even know what. Pardon, perhaps.

"Why do you always call me lieutenant?"

"Well I can't call you Simon at work, can I?"

She's chaste and decent. Has been like that for a while now, retreating back to her role of a distant professional. 

Something's troubling her, and he tries to get to the bottom of it. Tries his best to cheer her up, even if it's absurd that someone like him attempts to do that.

"Y'could use the alias."

"I'm not going to call you that."

She reads Virgil while making it clear that he's quite ridiculous. A ghost. It must remind her of a children's book rather than something stealthy and fatal; to her, it's a grown man's sad attempt to play a superhero.

"Did you come up with the name yourself?" Her voice has a whiff of irony as she finally spares him a glance from her hard-cover poetry.

"...No," he lies, too soon. Far too soon. She catches him on it, pants down.

"You're a silly, silly man." She shakes her head slowly and returns to her book. Last week, it was Dante who had better things to offer, far better things compared to him – such as a more poetic depiction of hell.

But even with the distant aura he can't quite pierce, she gives him a concept of what it would be like to have a home. A real home where you don't have to dread the evening and everything it brings out in people. Even when he was doing the SAS Fan Dance and lying on the cold ground to have a compulsory 2-hour shut-eye, he never missed home. The weather-beaten trail and a flapping tarp were still a cosier place than the one he'd left behind. 

The closest thing to an actual home was always solitude. A few days without routine. A cold shower in the morning to wake him, but not frigid enough to kill the erection. A good, unhurried fap and some stale spit circling down the drain. No one giving him a pitiful eye for tossing old takeaway in the bin and opening the cupboard only to be met with some canned food and table salt.

Now, the first thing in the morning is the sensation of her. Fingertips sneaking their way under his arm and ghosting his stomach, stirring him so softly he doesn't quite know if he's gone to heaven. Home is a sleepy nest and slow kisses followed by the sounds of brewing coffee. Home has become a place of mundane tasks: helping her water the plants and tasting whether the vanilla pudding she made has enough sugar. Changing sheets together, listening to the fitful sea as it breaks upon the shore. Watching how she reads of the Trojan War.

When he just stands there, admiring how her manicured nails glide over the pages, she talks to him again without raising her lashes from the book. 

"Did you need something?"

…You. All of you. 

Now and forever.

"Ya wanna go out to eat tonight?"

Finally, he grabs her attention. The distance between them is sewn up so fast even a jerk like him can understand he finally made the right fucking move.

"What about your… The mask?"

He shrugs.

"I thought you liked my cooking," she gives him a smile. Sly… Foxy.

"I do. But let me feed you for a change."

He sees in that stare and the way she purses her lips that she's trying to prevent a dirty joke from coming out of her pretty little mouth. As much as he appreciates that little cunning look, as much as he loves when that mouth gets a little dirty, he's more than serious now.

"Come on. Let me take you out."

"Well. If you insist," she smiles, shuts the book, and flies to her closet to pull out a stunner of a dress.

…..…..…..

Her fingertips always make his cock stir. They were supposed to go to sleep – a rare thing, to not slip inside her after a nice lil evening. To his surprise she starts to trace the few hairs on his stomach, threading through them as they thicken below. 

He can feel how she gets tense upon seeing that he's hard and heavy before she even reaches there. But she's not tense from anticipation.

"I overheard some of the guys talking about us. Or, well, me."

His cock gives a tug, and she still doesn't touch it.

"How I'm your luxury whore."

The curtain shifts as the wind plays with it: softly, while he's ripped out of the dark safety of the womb.

"Luxury…" She laughs, but it's bitter and thick. "Isn't it funny?"

He's hard now mainly because of the fury that rises. It ripples through his chest and pulls his stomach taut.

"Was it the rookie?"

He hears his voice from far away, from under the sea, but luckily, her hand brings him back. It's placed on him again, this time further up. She likes to trace the cavity between his pecs, pet the hair she finds there, too. Sometimes, she buries her face there and inhales his sweat, then uses that spot as her pillow. It's that very moment when he finds peace if he already hasn't by then.

"You don't have to defend my honour," the night speaks softly.

So, it was the rookie.

Nothing but a boy, younger than Soap and cockier than he was when he left Manchester with nothing but a duffel bag on his shoulder. Nothing but a boy, and she knows how boys are. She knows how boys talk. She wouldn't be in the Force if she took filthy quips seriously. 

But this is fucking different. The fantasies of what he'll do to the fucker when he gets back get sicker and more beautiful by the second.

"Just… don't come there anymore unless you're injured. Ok?"

He can't hear her because the vile word overrides even the gorgeous visions of torture. It gathers up his throat as bile, and he barely has time to take a deep breath to force it down before it's too late.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." 

"At this hour…?"

"Can't sleep anyway."

He reaches the bathroom just in time before the vomit flies. The power of it forces him on his knees, forces him to take hold of the door frame. Everything he fed to her shoots up, like it was only a dream that he could make her happy.

…Are you just here for sex?

Her shy question echoes from the tiles as another retch pulls the rest of his love out. 

He's sweating worse than the time they had to operate him in the field, back when a bullet had worked its way through the naked spot between the straps of his plate carrier. The shower washes some of it away, but the stench stays, the foul word and the insolence, all the shallow things he has given her coat the insides of his mouth no matter how many times he tries to spit it away. The water only does so much, and she's still not asleep by the time he returns to her. 

The luxury is waiting for him, silky and sweet. 

Wet, even, if he wants.

"Baby… Honey?"

Baby.

Baby.

He feels his guts in his throat again but swallows them down. She's beautiful, even when sad and sorry. Sorry, and for what? For him, instead of herself and what she's been called, the spite she has had to suffer simply for lying down in the filth with him. 

"Are you okay...?"

"Yeah."

He goes to her, pulls her in his arms, and hopes he doesn't smell of puke.

"They're just words. Right?"

I'm more than just your whore, right?

Her hand doesn't shy away from the sweat that breaks through his back. She's not afraid of him, even when he's the monster she never asked for. He can respect that kind of fearlessness. 

"You're awfully quiet," she tries. 

Baby, please don't go berserk, is what he hears.

"Go to sleep, pet," he calls forth his softest voice, relieved to notice it sounds more like a lullaby than a command. He allows her to kiss him, wondering if she can taste the grave. 

"Yes, sir," she breathes a soft smile in his mouth. Then she turns and coats herself with his arm. It must feel heavy around her, but she only gives a happy sigh. "I always sleep better with you. You feel so good… Safe."

He wonders how strange it is that love sometimes feels like pain. Her words come close to a knife slowly being pushed to his insides. They're still burning when she mutters the last essential thing, already half-asleep in his arms.

"They're just words, Simon…"

…..…..…..

He doesn't know much about poetry, but perhaps Dante was right. 

The heart of hell is not a fiery lake of torment but an icy, cold, stagnant place. There's nothing there. Everything is frozen: screams, thoughts, even dreams. 

He's walked through grey rubble and drenched asphalt, through alleyways of havoc and debris, he's trekked through desolate woodland and marsh. He's run through life like it's a day-to-day race to not get killed, but the worst of it isn't the bullets or the cold or the wind or the rain. It's the sleepless nights, the inertia. His soul in chains. On those nights, he wanted to get killed. 

And yet, he's not the only one who has suffered the unfortunate event of being dragged through every plane of hell. He's not the first man to go through the funnel, nor is he the last. It only looks bad in a society where he's supposed to own a credit card and a house. It only tastes like shit when someone asks "How does it make you feel?" 

People like him shouldn't go to therapy at all. His solution was to quit playing a modern man the minute he realized he's no longer fit for that role. He's simply a dead body, reanimated to serve a purpose. He's a sharp tool, a weapon. (A zombie.)

He serves the greater good, but everyone knows the greater good is propaganda too. There's no grand fight between light and darkness. Good and evil only conduct people's choices: even his old man must've thought he was making the world a better place by playing the rebel. He told him he served the Queen just to piss that sodded bastard off, but the truth is he never served anyone. Not even himself.

Now, there's an odd purpose to his task. Now, every cell in his body is full of animus. 

He's an animated corpse, perhaps, but they forgot to bury the wrath.

"Where's the rookie?"

"Getting stapled."

"Where?"

Which room? 

Which fucking room?

He doesn't stay to heed directions. He doesn't need them; his instinct tells him enough. He doesn't even bother to knock, simply barges in, only to see that the boy sits on the bed he used to sit on, in the exact same position as him. And he knows it's not just the blood loss that makes the fucker look so drowsy and smug. 

The fury is pierced with an ice-tinged sword as he sees her gentle touch – she's tending to the wounds of an ungrateful kid with the same compassion she gives to all her patients, and the first thing on his mind is that she would make a good mother.

"What're you doing here?" 

His voice is soaked in ash, but the boy only looks up from the bed with pure, trouble-seeking gall.

"What are you doing here…? Sir."

She's looking at him too. She's pleading with those eyes. Silently, desperately. 

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

Her request only now makes sense as he sees how the boy looks him up and down and sees there's not a scratch on him. There's no reason for him to be here other than to relieve the pain in his loins.

"Well… Have fun," the rookie jumps from the table, and the rage threatens to pull him underwater like a tide. He never needed anything but his voice to stop a man in his tracks. Not size, not rank, not even his reputation, just voice. 

"My office. Five minutes."

The boy dares to give him another foul look.

"Is that all you need? Just five minutes?"

He even detects admiration in that stare – like he's some stallion, a prized old stud who receives fine mares to rut. Like the celestial woman standing behind this… boy is just some slag thrown to him like they threw to gladiators of old. His luxury whore.

The rookie finally catches the impending wrath that must swell and roil like sea inside the sockets of the skull. 

Yes, boy.

Death is coming.

"Sir," the boy swallows with an arduous blob, then walks out of the goddess's domain, finally with some humility upon those shoulders. 

The torture has already begun, and it shoots him full of sweet adrenaline. He tries to mask the rising war from her, but she sees enough just before he leaves her as well. Her words follow him but cannot penetrate the cloak of fury that shrouds him as he goes to prepare for carnage.

"Simon. I just stitched him together..."

…..…..…..

He doesn't solve the problem with a gun or a cock this time. 

He uses his fists and a knife.

It should disgust him; how much he enjoys it. It's one of those rare occasions when he almost loses himself in the riptide of blood. The things he imagines are far worse than what he finally allows himself to do. When the boy has a split lip and half his face swollen so bad he can't even see from the bruise, when the wetness dampens the crotch area and threatens to stain the carpet, he lets him go.

"Get out."

He's a different man when he rises from beside that broken boy; from next to the knife he plunged to the floor an inch away from his face to make his intentions clear. The boy is stripped of all arrogance and probably regrets the day he got the splendid idea to insult a woman. 

He doesn't have to get his hands deep into paperwork to have the rookie transferred; the boy does it for him. He leaves the base quietly as a shadow and with a face that looks like it has been forced through a waffle maker.

After that, everyone salutes him feet away.

His orders are obeyed without question, without a second's delay on missions. He has never pursued to be loved, but neither has he worked on making people fear him. Now he's not only a source of mystery and intrigue but also fear and wonder.

Soap isn't scared quite as shitless as the rest of them, but neither is he as friendly as he used to be. Price says nothing but he gets a few looks that tell him he has gone too far.

"You shouldn't have," she whispers when they're alone, stopping him in the quiet hallway. She's the only one who doesn't have fear and avoidance in her stare. If anything, the adoration in her eyes has deepened.

He has avoided her strictly, this time obeying her request not to go to her unless he has business there. He doesn't defend himself; he doesn't have the luxury to decide what should or shouldn't be done. He's not a saint nor a judge. He is territorial, though.

"You must be the craziest man I've ever met." 

She talks to his shadow as he's standing only a few feet away, unable to touch her.

"Good."

"...and the most incredible."

His sharp intake of air hisses between them as the artificial light casts shadows in electric blue. She tries to thank him for bashing a face in, all her noble Hippocratic Oaths forgotten.

She takes a step – just one, to make it perfectly clear she wants to touch him too.

"You're a brute, Simon."

The woman's eyes are a deep sea of gratitude. He wonders if she's equally as wet between those legs. Her voice says it all: she likes brutes.

The worship in her stare makes him understand why wars have been waged – this is the reason why crusaders sloshed through rivers of crimson blood, why whole civilizations were destroyed. This is why swords are forged and guns are fired. He draws another breath to swear his allegiance, an oath bound in blood.

"No one's gonna call you a–"

She crosses the final breadth of air between them and lifts his mask.

…..…..…..

The waves crash on the shore like clockwork. To him, it's the sound of limbo. 

The sea used to pull him in like a seductive pit, especially at night, during the sleepless shifts when he walked to the beach with nothing but the ghosts of all the people he had lost to keep him company. Watching all the futures and should have been's slowly drowning in the sea. 

Now he’s here with a living being, and the cold, dead sea has turned into blooming fireworks of crimson and coral. The amnesia has turned into bliss; all the treasures lost in the depths suddenly wash up on the shore like a sunken hoard.

She takes her shoes off the minute they reach the shore, then descends the sands with laughter. She could be from a movie or a magazine, gliding through bleached gold with sunbeams in her hair, sandals dangling from the crook of her fingers, heathers kissing her feet as she dives down the path. Her smile eclipses even the setting sun, and for the first time ever, he thinks it might've been a stupid idea to enlist. 

If there’s an opposite to ice and inertia, it's this. 

It's her. 

"You lied to me," she turns around but doesn't stop walking. "You have been to the beach."

She tilts her head as if reprimanding him, but he knows she's just laughing at his expense. She laughs at his name… She laughs at his broodings, she laughs at his shadows and his hubris. 

"Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No."

There's no soul out here but theirs; even the seagulls have withdrawn to rest. She stops to admire the sun, features turning soft as she takes in her counterpart. Apparently, she likes his humble tribute, the scarcity he has to offer. Some hollow bones, his opinion of a beach. Emptiness… A day coming to an end.

"I have no words for this."

"It's just a beach," he offers, and swallows when she turns. When the fuck has he ever felt embarrassed? His mask is gone, so she can see him swallow again as she approaches. It's the strangest thing how she can still cause his heart to hammer in his chest. He's used to stepping into a hail of bullets, driving a truck through a wall, waiting for that last unaware step to lunge forth and slit a man's throat. The organ never wailed then.

Her eyes take in his every flaw and scar, the rotten work on his skin before she wraps her hands around his neck. 

"No. No it's not. This is paradise."

She has to rise on her toes to kiss him, and he's glad he got rid of the mask. There's nothing between him and the taste of summer anymore – she reminds him of some bright tropical drink, something pure and sweet and innocent, pure fucking fun, something he has come to understand and define only through movies and tv. 

And he knows now why he always comes back to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased.  

She has introduced him back to the world: the sun, the birdsong, the simple, good life. How it feels like to have curtains, or bake just because it's Thursday, or walk barefoot on the beach in order to feel the burning sand on your skin. 

What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead?

"Simon," she shivers into his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't want people to think that… That we're just…"

"Pet. I know."

"They said you didn't trouble yourself with relationships."

Years of instinct and training make his spine tingle. He's holding another future in his arms and hopes it's not possible for a sea to swallow a sun.

"They?"

"Well, John. Captain." 

Her lashes hide what's going through her mind, but he can tell she's feeling shy from the way she shifts in his embrace.

"I asked about you. In spring. If there's someone… waiting for you."

He wrestles down a bitter laugh. The only lover ever waiting for him was nothingness in that chair; the only wife he came home to was shades, shadows, and dust. 

But he's starting to understand what she's trying to say. How, without even thinking about it, he just made the strongest possible declaration of not being here just for sex. He couldn't have sent a louder message with that boy.

Because not only Jonathan Price know that she's his. Soap knows too. Gaz knows too. Everyone working in Task Force 141 knows, even the fucking scrubbers and accountants know what's going on. Everyone knows that Ghost is real, and alive, and troubles himself with a relationship.

"I dreamed of you, you know." Her lashes flutter open, and he's met with the perfect example of total surrender. She's more than happy with the outcome, and why the hell shouldn't she be? Actions speak louder than words. He of all people should know that.

"Love–"

"Do you remember the day I found out you were a smoker?"

"...Sure."

She laughs, taking him back to the odd meeting in the yard when she was prying her suffocating latex gloves off, and he was trying to find some solace in a cigarette because he couldn't have her. 

"I was so angry at you. Playing with death at every turn..." 

"Yeah. Not the perfect man."

"But you were. You are." 

"Pet. If someone's perfect, it's you."

"No… I'm a hypocrite. I wanted you to just–just take me against the wall. After your stupid smoke."

He always wondered if she was suffocating too. In her gloves, in her beauty, in her sterile, medical, professional chasteness.

But he had no fucking clue that she–

"Or during, I don't care…"

Even the thought of her wanting him to tear apart her facades shatters the last sane thought in his head. He has tried to be civil, tried to suffocate the longing, but apparently, he doesn't have to. The image of burying himself inside her cunt while taking a drag from the thing she despises even more than his name or his mask or his guns is too fucking much. The fact that she views a dog like him as a perfect man makes his cock answer her call like a good, stout soldier. 

"Is that so?"

She stops breathing for a moment as he takes a drag from her now. She's raw whiskey straight to an empty stomach, the way his mind goes blank from sliding his mouth over the column of her throat. She tastes of sea there, and it's not pulling him in; it's pulling him under. The open-mouthed kisses make her jolt, he even draws out a moan or two; they swell between his legs. 

"You like that…?"

She answers to him with a soft whine. A soft nib of her ear, and her hips reply with a roll. The woman tries to latch onto him by gripping his shirt, threatening to do permanent damage to the fabric.

"No walls here, pet. Gotta take you on the sand," he gruffs in her ear, cock hard and ready from her tight little breaths. He could bet half his money that she's wetter than November down there. He could drag his cockhead across her cunt and the sound would be divine. 

"Simon–"

"I'll light a cig first."

"Stop teasing," she laughs, voice thick with hunger.

"...Roger that."

His hand is on his belt before he knows it. It's pathetic how much patience he has if he needs to crouch in a downpour and wait for a kill, but at the sight and smell and taste of her, he can't stop himself from wrenching his belt and pants open like a starved dog. It's a rush born of fear - that any time could be the last time.

She seems to shiver from his stare only when she lays herself upon the warm sand, naked as can be. She's like a vision on that beach: leaning on her elbows, thighs slowly parting, revealing the glistening sex between her legs. And she's fucking dripping, like an overripe peach. He could've safely bet all his money on her.

"How do you want me?"

Fucking fuck… 

He's walking in a dream: the most beautiful woman in the world is lying naked before his feet, bathing in gold, asking how he would prefer to take her. He doesn't even bother to get out of his clothes; he merely tugs his pants down and crawls between her legs, relishing the tight gasp he gets from being so crude.

Her eyes grow wide at the sight of him there, so close to her core, cock hanging heavy just an inch away from that tight cunt. She tries so hard to look composed while lying under his shadow, to not make it obvious that she wants that ugly thing inside. And it does feel like sin not to spread those legs and plough right in, especially when his fingers meet her silk and find that she's already throbbing.

"Want you just like this, pet," he rasps while dragging the pad of his thumb around her clit. Her back arches on the sand, forcing his fingers deeper into the dripping fruit.

It's different, her wetness; not thick and halfway there, but flowing, leaking, soaking good. The pussy is so glazed that he slips at the first attempt to slide a finger in. Her walls grip him the second he's seated deep, making it known how much she appreciates it that he's not here just for sex. 

"Someone's greedy," he's breathing rough, and she whines – he only gets to two fingers before she demands him to fuck her already.

"Want your–I need your cock…" 

She's begging, poor thing, almost crying on the sand, and he has no fucking choice but to remove his fingers and grab his cock instead.

"Have to go slow, love."

"Riley–for god's sake, now."

"F' fuck's sake…" He stumbles forward, all but gracefully, forces the tip on her soaked cunt as delicately as he can before pushing right in. She cries from the spread, fingers curling in the sand: a futile attempt to take him in without fainting.

"Tried to warn ya–"

"Don't you dare stop," she gasps, eyes full of love. As always, her wish is his command, and the tightness makes it an endless journey to bliss. The basest parts of him think about dying – having a heart attack on the same beach he almost drowned in, about ceasing to exist just for the sake of knowing that nothing is as good as this. 

He's deep as can fucking be, and it's still not enough – it's never enough. He collects her in his arms with a frustrated grunt, cock giving a tight pull only when she's finally safe and snug in his embrace. It's a tight cuddle that leaves them both breathless.

"Hold me tighter..." 

It's a soft order, but he can't get any closer: chest plastered on her skin and balls pressed against her ass, the sand grinding against her back as he makes love to her. She’s not made of twigs, but he’s far bigger than her, already threatening to crush her with his weight.

"Tighter…" she begs on his lips, tries to pull him closer with her whole being.

"Pet, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she sings, completely shieldless. Something warns him of danger, a reset far worse than drowning or being buried alive or shooting himself in a lonely apartment. He tries to calm her down with a kiss: he knows she loves kisses - but there are tears in her eyes, and his heart is hammering, hammering… 

"Simon, do you love me…?"

She asks that question right on his lips, and the first thing in his dog mind is that it's a stupid thing to ask when he's balls deep inside her and still trying to get closer.

"Yeah," he almost chokes on it, knowing it could be their wedding day and he would still choke on it because it doesn't taste like salt or metal or grave.

"I love you," she whispers. "Do you understand?"

No. No…

I fuckin' don't–

"And I'll always be here for you."

To his shock, there’s no sea water in his lungs, no dirt in his mouth. He’s not choking on anything, he's not in fact dying at all: he’s floating, somewhere between the sun and the sand and the sea. There's no more rush, no jaws of death snapping at his heels. He doesn't even long for heaven anymore. Not when there's a paradise on earth.

"Love, I need you to–need you to focus," he tries to stutter nonsense while she's pledging herself to him. Of course she only laughs at him: it hits him with the sweetest warmth.

"You're so silly…" 

"Yeah? I know." 

He's laughing too. It's just a few notes that get taken away by the sound of waves. It's just a breath from deep within, and still… Her gaze drops to his mouth, a flutter blinks back more tears.

"I love it when you laugh..." Her eyes shine brighter than the sun, riding the spine of the sea as one perfect tear rolls down her cheek. "Love it…"

The sun sets in tangerine, his new favourite colour. There's a whole bloom out there in the sky when she comes, fast and bright in his embrace. He comes right after, just from trying to stay inside her warmth, deep inside her, around her, and she says it, again and again and again… Until he breathes.

….….….

"Remember when I said I could've managed? Without you," she asks when they lie on the sand, skin on skin, watching the sun set beneath the onyx sea. The waves rise and break, but around them, the air is still. He's still inside her as she pulls his hand over her heart, entwining their fingers together: it's the softest little arrest, but her squeeze doesn't lack strength. 

"I lied too."

"I know."

She chuckles softly. "Is there something you don't know?"

"...Yeah. Why you're here out of all places."

She turns her head from the sunset into the falling darkness of him, and he wonders if that's why she's here... To be with his night. She said that people always get the dark wrong: that it's not supposed to be scary at all. That the purpose of darkness is safety, security, that there are tales where the day chases the night, and the night chases the day. She said it's because they're in love with each other.

"You really don't know…?" 

"You were smiling before we met and now you're crying all the time."

She looks up at him with trust and devotion, his daylight, his sun. There's none in the sky anymore, but it doesn't matter. It lives in her eyes.

"People cry from happiness too, Simon."

[kiwisbell]

helen ; chapter five

be seeing you

Si vis pacem, para bellum. Or, the choice.

series masterlist | my masterlist pairing: joel miller x f!reader tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), john wick AU, hitman!joel, husband!joel, established relationship, artist!reader, love as worship, sacrilege in the name of romance, flashbacks, graphic violence, guns, blood + injuries, tess cameo, childhood/religious trauma, criminal underworld, secrecy/lies, betrayal, ANGST, bamf miller bros, smut, fingering, joel is an emotional munch, shower sex, unprotected PIV, handjob, male whimpering, conflicting emotions, orgasms aplenty, Big Angst and Big Sad but also Big Epiphanies, ambiguous ending, i'm getting emotional writing these tags, it feels so final, the typical alcohol/smoking/profanity, dividers by @/saradika word count: ~ 9.3k a/n: hi, friends. i can't believe we're already at the end of the main story, and tbh if i think about it too much i'll probably cry. i want to thank @cavillscurls for beta reading this chapter as always and giving me the guidance and support i need. we'll have an epilogue after this chapter, so there's still more to look forward to, but nonetheless, i hope you enjoy and thank you so so much for reading. xoxo prev | next

Her eyes are so sad, you think, stepping back to take in the full scope of the canvas. It’s doused in paint from corner to corner, still wet to the touch, the woman and her lover intertwined so thoroughly that it’s difficult to tell where they both end. It’s in shades of glum blue and flecks of angry red and brown where his eye watches you. But it’s her eyes that cannot lift to meet yours. It’s her lashes that fan across her cheeks as she casts her gaze toward the bottom edge where the canvas is wrapped taut around the wood. 

The sun will soon rise, but you haven’t slept. The contours of the sky are washed in a haze of greys and pale blues and light pink and the air smells warm, heavy—a storm about to roll in. The clouds on the horizon are thick with a blackening rage. You sit in the alcove by the window and put your temple to the cool glass. You yawn. Joel does not come back.

“Do you think it's true,” you asked him one night, your head on his chest, hand on his heart, “that art makes nothing happen?”

Joel, drawing shapes on your back, dozing off in the golden light of the sunrise, frowned. “Someone tell you that?”

“It's something my art teacher used to say,” you told him. “No matter how much it moves people, it doesn't do anything.”

“Your art teacher sounds like a fuckin’ downer.”

You laughed, hiking your thigh up over his hip and playfully biting his jaw. “So it's bullshit?”

“I think,” said Joel, tucking his chin to kiss the top of your head, “that your art makes people feel. It brings ‘em together. It's important because it's yours.”

You propped your head up on his chest and threaded your fingers through his too-long hair, overdue for a trim. A curl draped over his forehead, his beard patchy and soft under the pads of your fingers. “Sometimes I wonder why you chose me,” you said. “I wonder why the universe brought you to me.”

Joel shook his head, guiding his rough, callused fingers up your arm, curling them around your wrist, gently prodding your veins. “Wasn't the universe,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t a choice. I was yours the second I saw you. So, I guess it's your fault.”

You just rolled your eyes and kissed him, mouth to smiling mouth. 

Your paintings may be yours, made with life and energy and colour, but when they are finished, they don’t move. They are stagnant as a heavy rock beneath a cliffside, washed over and over again by the cresting waves, its salt stolen for the water, eternal damnation to a fate of non-movement. And sometimes an artist will walk under the cliff, shove their easel into the fleshy ground the way a man erects his country’s flag in the earth he has stolen, and paint the rock. The artist is moved by the breathtaking colours of the shore and the way the wind flutters through the grass. But the rock does not budge. It never will. 

Your art will never erupt from the boundaries of the canvas and tell you what it means. The lovers in your painting will not tear open their mouths like the seams holding a wound together. They will not tell you what they want, need, crave. They are you, and that is what you hate—because dimpled flesh and lustful fingers and the press of his mouth to her throat cannot tell you what you’re supposed to do. 

You had become complacent in his love for you. You had let him press his worn hands to your body and pull your soul out through his mouth and you had been a wife, while all the time there was a stranger who occupied his heart, a spirit in an abandoned body. All the time, he'd been haunted. And although you had loved him, your love had not been enough to exorcise the guilt and trauma, pecking at him, an eagle at his liver. 

Crossing the room and sitting back down in front of the easel, you press your fingers to the corner of the canvas. The paint is cool to the touch, and you leave behind fingerprints where your signature should be. Pulling your hand back, you examine the accumulation of colour, the blues and reds swirling into the deep purple of a bruise, the bodies on a canvas that may only ever mean something to you, and you wonder, Is this all I am? A cautionary tale, a love lost? A fucking footnote at the end of a clause that reads: “See, for example, the one who never loved deeply enough to make it count”?

You bring your hand to your face to wipe away the tears beneath your eyes and blink hard at the sting, realising you’ve smeared paint across your cheekbones. 

In the bathroom, you scrub furiously, the cloying scent of it clinging to your throat and your tear ducts, washing away the evidence of their entwined bodies, their love, your pain. 

Once, you tried to get Joel to paint. You sat behind him on your bench, your legs bracketing his hips, your paintbrush in his hand. 

“I don’t know where to start,” he said.

Your lips brushed the shell of his ear as you spoke. “There’s no rulebook.”

He tried to turn his head and kiss you, but you nipped his ear in reproach. “Remember when you took me out driving at the airstrip because you wanted me to feel the road? Think of this like feeling the canvas. Go on, cowboy. Make nothing happen.”

Joel’s painting still hangs over your shared bed. The intruders never found it, or never cared enough to destroy it. It’s a candle, just a candle, its lines imprecise, the paint unevenly applied in places, the shine of the flame more orange than yellow. But it’s a painting, so the candle always burns. He titled it Love. 

The pain still sits low in your chest, pulling down your heart as if tied to it by a string. But Joel is still out there, fighting his way back to you, the way he always has, always will. You look down at your left hand, clutching the edge of the marble vanity, and decide to clean your wedding ring. 

“I’m sorry, brother,” says Tommy, turning the gun on Joel. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” growls Joel, struggling against his bonds. The clip rattles faintly in his brother’s hand as a tremor courses through him. 

“He’s following my orders,” says Cabrera, clapping his hand down on Tommy’s shoulder. “Fascinating what a man will do when he must consider his family’s well-being.”

Joel sucks on his teeth, his eyes not once leaving his brother. 

“It's my son,” Tommy says through his teeth. “It's Maria. If I don't do this—”

“Yeah? You gonna kill me, Tommy? Is that why your hand’s shakin’?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” his brother snaps. “You think I want to do this? I gotta save my family, Joel. You know what that's like.”

“All I’ve done for you,” says Joel, his hands curling into fists behind his back, “and you put a bullet in my head?”

“Not just your head, Joel,” says Cabrera. “When we're done with you, we’ll take your pretty girl as payment for my son’s life.”

Joel growls like a dog, blood roaring in his ears. “Kill me yourself, you goddamned coward. Kill me yourself and don’t you mention my wife again, or I swear to Christ—”

“You take His name in vain a lot for a nonbeliever,” says Cabrera, pulling his sleeves through his coat and setting his teeth as he looks toward Tommy once more. “Do it.”

“Yeah, brother,” Joel says darkly, “do it.”

Tommy nods once, planting his foot and pivoting. Five distinct sounds of handguns cocking echo throughout the warehouse as Tommy points the barrel between Manuel Cabrera’s eyes.

“Now that I’ve got a gun to your head,” he says evenly, “you can go ahead and pull that contract.”

Joel at last twists his wrists free of the ropes that bind them and shucks down the sleeves of his jacket to rub the raw skin. Not one soul does a goddamn thing to stop him as he rises to his feet. His chest heaves, his open lungs coarse and wet with a brittle rage, his exposed heart throbbing red, transparent as the stained glass windows of the church.

God does not tolerate anger, said the Sisters, again and again, bringing down the whip across his back. Sinew and bone and skin peeling back to lay bare some tender part of him they sought to rot out. Put your energy into His worship.

Slowly, Cabrera lifts his hands, sneering. “Your wife,” he warns, “and your unborn son—”

“Are family,” says Tommy. “Just like my brother. Now tell your guys to put down their guns and I won't kill you where you stand.”

Joel joins Tommy at his side. “Took you long enough,” he says under his breath. 

“Got held up,” he says. “Your wife’s a good artist.”

“Yeah, whatever. You bring me a gun?”

“I’m sure you can find one yourself.”

“Jesus, Tommy. I’m too old for this.” Joel turns to Cabrera and glares at the same stubborn arrogance that once gleamed in his son’s eye. “You pull the contract, and I’ll leave for good.”

Cabrera’s laugh weans out in the air like rings of smoke. “You think you can really leave, Joel? You think that there won't be consequences for what you've done to my son?”

“Yeah,” says Joel, “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“And you?” Cabrera’s lip curls up at Tommy, whose gun no longer wavers in his grasp. “I promised your wife and child security. You’re willing to throw that away?”

“My wife and child are safe because I don’t take deals from men like you,” says Tommy. “You trusted a Miller to turn on his own blood, Manuel. That was stupid. Now pull the contract.”

“So this is your great suicide mission.” Cabrera smiles, a man who knows he has lost or a man who still expects not to. “A man who has seen Hell does not willingly descend back into its depths—not unless he likes the taste.”

Joel feels the corner of his mouth twitch, a wound on his cheek reopening. “Maybe I do,” he says plainly. “Maybe it’ll taste even better when I take you down with me.”

The gleam in Cabrera’s eye shifts as his gaze flickers behind Tommy. Night has since descended, and yet the predator’s eye glints in anticipation of the hunt. Joel turns and shoves his brother out of the way—just as the shot rings out. 

He hears Tommy’s breath punch out of him as they both hit the concrete hard. Joel tears the handgun from his brother’s grasp and puts a bullet between each of the two men behind them. He rolls behind one of the hulking bodies and holds up his weight as a shield against the incoming bullets. Tommy takes the dead man’s gun and fires at the remaining three assailants. Only one shot misses, but Joel sends his brother a look anyway and finishes the job. 

“Rusty,” grunts Tommy, pushing himself to his feet. 

Joel grimaces as he accepts his brother’s outstretched hand, his wrists bleeding from the relentless rub of the ropes. “He ran,” he says, grinding his teeth. “Goddamn coward. Just like his son.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome, by the way,” says Tommy, giving Joel the dead man’s gun and snatching back his own. “Saved your ass.”

“And he got away.” Joel kicks his chair, and the clattering echo of metal reverberates like a choir off the cavernous walls. His hands flex, open, closed, open, closed, until they make tight fists and he can see nothing but red and the silver moon mocking him through the broken windows high above. 

“Joel…”

For a moment, he hears the young boy his brother once was, whispering across their shared bedroom to him in the middle of the night when they were both meant to be asleep. 

Joel… Are we going to be okay?

“I gotta finish it, Tommy,” he says quietly, his hands shaking loose. Parts of him bite and sting, touched by new and old wounds alike, and he wants to come crawling home to you. He wants to curl into your side and wash away the blood in your cleansing pool, daisy and honeysuckle, some faraway field where you are the warden, where he knocks on the door to be let in, to be gathered, covered in white, buried, unearthed. 

“Was he right?” asks Tommy. “Do you… enjoy this?”

Joel casts his eyes toward the ground, his trembling hand, the gleaming band on his ring finger, his skin speckled with blood but the metal pristine. “I don’t know,” he says. 

This is who you are, Cabrera would tell him. The Sisters: Your place is here, under God, under His word. And God Himself, silent as the air, the ringing in his ears only ever quieted by the soft brush of your knuckle across his cheek, the whisper of My Joel in his ear. 

“Think hard on it,” says Tommy, “because you may like it, but you’ve gotta consider if your revenge is worth more than what you’ve already got. And if you choose wrong, Joel, you’re gonna lose no matter what.”

A figure leans stone-still against the wall by the hotel room door, the gleam of a blade in the soft light the only indication that it is not a mere shadow. 

“Hey, kid,” says the apparition. 

Joel nods in greeting. “Tess. Could get in trouble with that knife out in the open.”

“You expect me to keep your girl safe with just my fists?”

“You make it sound like you couldn’t.” Tess snorts, and Joel places fifteen gold coins in her waiting palm. “I appreciate you doing this.”

Tess peels away from the wall. “You and your brother are paying me good money to babysit a door. I think I can live without the thanks.”

“Still,” he says, “you did us a solid.”

Tess, who itches at the prospect of gratitude as much as any other gun-for-hire, shrugs. “Everyone’s saying you’re coming back. That true?”

“Just visiting,” says Joel. “On my way out soon.”

Tess flips one of the coins and turns it over and over across her knuckles, evidence of a restless energy that’s always made Joel’s eye twitch. “One way or another, huh?” she says.

“One way or another.” He shakes her hand and watches her retreat down the hall, still twirling the godforsaken coin, before he turns toward the door. Joel presses his forehead briefly to the cool wood and turns the key to seek the field that awaits him.

A key rustles in the door and Joel steps through, closing it gently behind him. Judging by the quiet click of the lock, he expects you to be asleep, but you jolt upright from your seat in the alcove and cross the room toward him.

He meets you halfway, his right hand flexing at his side. You inspect him: the gash on his cheek, the bruise on his jaw, the blood splattered on his white shirt. He makes no footfalls as he walks but you can hear every stride like thunder between your ears. You feel his hand at the back of your neck, cool from the night air, rough as the underside of a shark’s belly.

The moment coils taut between you as your hand reaches up to grab the lapel of his jacket, and he smells of iron, cologne, Joel, some paint. Maybe that smell is you, stuck underneath your fingernails, embedded in your blood. Maybe this is a mistake, maybe you could never help but fall, maybe it never mattered anyway, and you’re already snipping the final thread, unwinding the spool, and kissing Joel Miller like it’s the first time. 

He let out a small groan, tasting the first drop of water in a drought, steadying you with his arm around your waist, his hand cradling your head. He’s gentle, exploratory, careful not to jostle, to shock you out of it. You feel his heartbeat thud, strong, calm, steady behind his clothing and skin and muscle, and your body caves.

It’s coming home, you realise, your arms snaking around his neck, fingers tousling the messy curls on his head. It's the warm press of his hand to your spine where it begins to curve inward. It's a soft mouth, a plush lower lip, made for slow mornings and black coffee, for the aching release of a thumb pressing deep into a muscle knot, a wound. Old aches soothed in the space where bodies meet, beginning to colour the slate-grey world. 

It’s the exchange of gasping breaths when you pull apart, his mouth still vaguely chasing yours, opposite charge. 

You hold him tighter, swallowing the lump in your throat, your hands squeezing his shoulders. "Are you…"

Joel inclines his head. "Yeah."

"Did he..."

"Yeah."

Need pulses. Supernova. Bright as the moment of obliteration. "Can you—"

He nods vigorously. "Yeah."

Joel’s kisses are like raindrops: velvet-soft to the touch—his hands bringing the hem of your shirt up over your head, his fingertips scorching, branding, grazing the supple swells of your breasts—before the crescendo roars in your ears and he loses himself to the storm. He always does. 

There is nothing reserved about the way he shows his love. Lightning crackles across your skin where he touches you, baring you to him, his lips making a map of you, mouthing at your jaw, your throat. You hear yourself hum at the press of his lips to the spot beneath your ear, detaching from your own body, absconding with the pleasure of being close to him and leaving the fucking world behind. 

Joel staggers forward so he can press you to the wall and begins to sink to his knees. Your breath catches as he pulls down your ratty bottoms, your cotton panties, his mouth burning into your hips and your belly and the ring on your finger. 

“Joel,” you say brokenly as he clutches your fingers. Tears prickle, pressure building behind your nose, and he shakes his head, unfurling your palm like a bud in bloom and kissing its heel. Wordlessly, you watch him, your eyes shuttering, blood singing. 

Don't hurt me again. 

He understands even though the words cannot come alive on your tongue. He squeezes your hips, his thumbs dumpling your flesh, his forehead falling to your belly. 

“I’m yours,” he says. “I’m whatever you want.”

Your legs haven't forgotten the way they part so easily for him, one thigh on his shoulder, opening the core of you to his waiting mouth. His lips part, his tongue wetting them, glistening, and your stomach tightens at the sight of his eyes so black. 

You could easily cower. His hands are stained with blood. His knuckles are split. But your terror has become an arid thing, no kindling to burn, no oil to ignite. Watching him now, as eager to please as he always has been or maybe more so, on his knees like a supplicant, the hairs on your arms do not rise in apprehension. Your body does not squirm in fear. You see a broad horizon, the sun outside spilling its golden blood over the city, and you see all of him in a way you never did before. 

He’s Joel, who grew up in darkness, lashed and beaten for not believing in a false god. He’s a man who has lied and killed and yet he is no liar, no killer. He holds you as he always has, your body liquid in his hands, your mouth proclaiming the word he will follow. You're the truth he's always told. 

It still unsettles you to see the dark eclipse that warm brown, to watch his desire consume the hypnotic shapes in his irises, and wonder if that cavernous black was the last thing so many men saw before he snuffed out their lives. But there's nothing of the death shudder in the way you guide your fingers through his hair and beg him—

“Please.”

He brings his mouth to your core and parts your folds with his thumbs, slowly gliding his warm, wet tongue through your slit. You die a hundred little deaths in the split-second of that first touch, that first agony.

You sigh, your head thudding against the wall as he licks through you, his hands holding your hips in place, keeping you from writhing. Joel flicks his tongue over the sensitive pearl of your clit, the pleasure searing, and you tug at his curls to push him away even as you cry out, More, please, please. God, I need more.

He obeys you as easily as breathing, though you suspect he can barely hear your pleas, opening his mouth and flattening his hot tongue to your clit. You gasp, your core pulling taut, your eyes locking with his as the muscle undulates over, over, and over again. 

“Oh,” you whimper, your hips bucking to meet his face. He groans, his mouth working your clit, closing his lips over it and sucking. You cry out, your leg kicking, the sounds of the world muffled in his stifling closeness. Your thighs begin to ache, tensing and relaxing a hundred times over in the throes of his attention. 

And his fingers are gliding across your hip, seeking the warmth between your legs. You gasp his name, your hips flexing, as he collects your wetness on two fingers. 

“Let me in, baby,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit. It relaxes you enough to welcome the press of his fingers inside you, sinking to the knuckle, curling up against the spot he would know in his sleep. 

You whine, your body keening toward him, tugging his face back toward your pussy. He obliges with a quiet moan, and you think he needs this just as badly. 

The obscene squelch of his fingers inside you rings in your ears as he licks and sucks at your clit, his free hand grabbing desperately at your ass to keep you fixed to him. You’re crying, “Yesyesyes, Joel, please—fuck, that's it,” the pleasure stuck in the grooves of your brain. Absentmindedly, you reach for his hand and clasp it tight, your engagement ring digging into his palm. He holds you with the same fervour as he coaxes you higher, his face buried in your pussy. He grunts and groans like it's his own pleasure he seeks, his battered knuckles stinging. 

“Joel… Joel, oh, I’m…”

He knows, of course, from the telltale squeeze of your thighs around his head, the relentless crushing of his fingers in your own, your body tightening for him, cavitating, unwinding—

You come with a shout, your throat raw, writhing in his grasp as he keeps sucking, keeps licking, rubbing, pressing. You're dizzy by the time your head lolls to the side, your muscles twitching, eyes glazed, and Joel is there, pulling his fingers out just to place them on his tongue and swallow you down. 

Your breath rattles through your lungs. Joel presses his lips to your inner thigh, beard soaked in your arousal, moustache glistening. His mouth soothes your sore muscles and your eyes begin to droop. 

“You need a shower,” you say, your tongue like lead in your mouth. You gently pass your thumb over a cut on his cheek and frown. “You're all bloody.”

He nuzzles his face against your thigh, inhaling you. “I know.”

“You were gone so long.” Your voice quivers, pressure prickling behind the bridge of your nose. “I thought…”

Joel rises to his feet, his hands cradling your face. “I’m all right,” he says. “I’m here, and I’m safe, and I’m so goddamn sorry.”

You shake your head, pressing your lips together so the sob will not escape. Tracing his face with your fingers, broken in places, healing in others, you see the echo of a boy who didn't know his place in the world. You see the haunt of days gone by. A ghost still occupies the cage of his ribs. 

“I think you should tell the little boy that still lives here,” you say, putting your hand on his chest. “Tell him he’s alive. Tell him that he made it.”

Joel lowers his head, watching the way your fingers splay over his heart. He puts his hand on yours and pushes, and you feel the strong thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat. 

“He knows.”

You lean forward and put your mouth to his temple. “Shower, Joel,” comes your whisper in his ear. 

He nods, wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you into the bathroom. The water hits you both true, scalding, the drain circled with red. He’s naked, his back to you as he sets his hair and lets his wounds bleed what they need to. 

You lift your hands and trail them down his broad shoulders, your forehead dropping between his shoulder blades where your name is inked into his back. Joel’s muscles idly flex, his palm flat against the shower wall. His body shudders when you press your lips to the name on his back. 

Wordlessly, you bring your arms around him, caressing his side, careful of the new bruises. Your other hand drops to his steel-hard cock and you begin to slowly stroke him. The noise that wrenches free from his throat is half pleasure, half agony, his hips bucking into your fist. You bump your nose against his back, your years-old sign to Just relax, and Joel hides his face in his bicep as you work your hand over him.

“G—fuck,” he grunts. “Goddamn… honey, I—”

You squeeze him at the base and twist your hand up and down the length of him, the weight warm and heavy, your thumb coaxing out a bead of precum. Your cheek is warm on his back, your arm struggling to reach around the width of him, your chest humming at the sound of his gruff moans. 

“Let me…” He cuts himself off as you speed up your strokes, and you can feel his abdomen tense. “Fuck, let me make you feel good. Shit… let me…”

“Joel,” you say, “for once, stop trying to be my hero.”

His head falls back and you press your lips to his throat, nibbling the sensitive spot behind his ear: the old scar, that tiny circle, that hairless patch. He groans your name, and you’re smiling despite yourself, your mouth curling against his warm, tender skin. 

“Inside me,” you whisper, the pace of your fingers over his length slowing to a crawl. “Remind me how it feels.”

He turns his head to look into your eyes, his lashes dewy, blinking hard to flick away the water, brow furrowed. His moustache bristles as his lips part in a question he does not (or maybe cannot) articulate, and you’re fractured into pieces by the intricate curve of his nose, the freckles on his jaw, the silver strands in his beard. A rough hand cups the back of your neck and another takes you by the waist, and you’re flattened to the wall, your hand braced on the glass next to you as he kisses you deeply. 

Consuming, heady, warm—you give in, your hands avoiding the delicate skin of his wrists where he’s been bound, helpless. Sighing softly into his mouth, you let his kiss humble the part of you that still needs the walls you’ve built from the marrow of your anger. It circles the drain, lead-filled paint, as you remember under his hands how it feels to live.

You reach between your bodies, your leg wrapping around his waist, and slide the head of his cock through your weeping slit. Joel sucks in air through his teeth, the water lashing his back like a whip, and he surges forward, grasping you by the waist and sinking his cock into your tight hole. 

You cry out his name, burying your face in his throat and baring your teeth. Your name leaves his mouth in kind, an apparition, sounds you barely recognise anymore. As you take him inside you, the memory of who you were with him pounds at your ribcage, begging to be let out. And you covet them, selfish as you are now for fucking him this way, needy and impatient, your fingers tugging his wet locks. 

You see no point in scooping out the marrow; there is still sweetness stuck to the bones of your old life with him. Instead, you coat your teeth in this, the slow drag of his cock, the depths he reaches so easily, so knowingly. His fingers prod the bruised flesh of your hurt and yet you still guide him inside. You still pull his hair and kiss his throat where his Adam’s apple bobs and you still let him hold you close enough to splinter. 

He’s grabbing fistfuls of your ass and sucking on your throat, his thrusts sloppy as he tries to hold back, to make you come first, but you tighten, clenching down on him, making his groans pitch up into whines. 

“Joel,” you gasp, your needy fingers prickling his scalp where you pull his hair. His teeth graze your throat and you want him to bite, you want him to sink in deep, you want his jaws to latch onto your skin. You want him never to leave again. 

He comes hard. His hips buck, pushing so deep he disappears into your body, and you see the blues, browns, reds of your painting as he empties all he has left inside you. 

Panting, he drops his head to your breast, his open mouth still scattering weak, worn kisses over your skin. Your lungs expand under his palms, fingers stuck in the grooves between your ribs, his body an offshoot of yours, not the other way around. In the ringing afterlife of your pleasure, you vaguely feel him mouthing words you cannot hear. You run your fingers through his hair and enjoy the battering of the scorching water as it melts you both into one.

Later, in the sticky, humid silence of the bathroom, steam still swirling around your heads, fogging the glass, you trim Joel’s hair.

"Do you ever get scared?" you ask him, the shhhick of the scissors gliding across a chunk of his hair. "Do you ever go out on a job and think to yourself, What if I slip? What if this is it?"

Joel huffs. "It's not so much about myself as making sure the other guy goes down first."

“I think I’d be scared.” You twirl a lock of hair around your finger and let it fall over his forehead. “I don’t think I’d be able to look into someone’s eyes and take their life.”

He casts his eyes to his lap, flicking off some hair from his thigh. “One time, I thought it was over. I wasn’t quite seventeen yet, runnin’ drugs for some gangster. He sent me to El Sauzal to discreetly transport a couple kilos out of the city; someone had snitched and he didn’t want any rival gangs to find his stash. But the people there, they… They didn’t know any better. There were mothers, kids. Innocent people, y’know? Just strays. I decided I’d come back for ‘em.”

Your stomach twists. “What happened?”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I was too late. By the time I got back, the whole goddamn city was on fire. The people were either dead in the streets or close to it. They didn’t do anythin’ wrong. They didn’t ask for any of it. But they were weaker, slower. I couldn’t walk ten feet without seein’ some kid wrapped up his mother’s arms, burned to a fucking crisp. So, I came back with weapons, marched into the gang’s territory, and I killed ‘em all.”

Days ago, you’d be afraid of the man whose back warms your belly where you stand just behind him. You would hesitate to reach out and put your hand on his shoulder the way you do now. But you curl your fingers over the muscled curve of his arm and his head falls back against you, spidering open, his gooey molten centre bared for you.

Joel. Just Joel. 

“Did you see the painting?” you ask him quietly. 

“I see everything you do,” he says. “It's beautiful, baby.”

You drop your gaze from his face in the mirror and set down the scissors on the vanity. “I can't pretend to understand what you've been through, Joel, and that makes things even harder. All I've ever wanted is to love you, to take your pain, and all this time there's been so much I never even knew about. And I’m sorry.”

Joel’s hand comes to cover yours, clasping your fingers. They’re warm, rough, but you do not sense the phantom blood. ���If I’d told you from the beginning,” he says, “maybe I never would've hurt you in the first place. All those years I thought I was protecting you from myself, I was hurting you—the one thing I swore I would never fuckin’ do.”

“Joel…”

“Baby, don't apologise to me,” he says firmly, putting his lips to your knuckles. “Never apologise to me. And don't you let me off easy.”

“Have I ever?” you say with a halfhearted smile. 

“Yeah,” he says, “the day you let me marry you.”

You scoff. “Oh, please. Wedding planning was hell on earth for you.”

“Just because I didn't like the photographer—”

“You didn't not like the photographer, Joel. You wanted to draw and quarter the photographer.” 

He huffs like an angry dog, frowning at you in the mirror. “He kept puttin’ his goddamn hands on you.”

You laugh, brushing your thumb over the patch in his beard to indicate you're finished. “He was posing us, cowboy.”

Joel rises to his feet and closes the scissors away inside the drawer. “Posin’ you, sure.”

“He was afraid to touch you. Probably thought you’d take off his hand. And the pictures turned out great.”

“Yeah,” he says, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Way the sunlight caught in your hair, your eyes… I don't know. Beautiful.”

He was so shy the first time you kissed him. Cheeks flushed, eyes cast toward the ground, the wind ruffling his curls where it blew over the water. He was made in an artist’s image, you thought that night, the details pored over like paperwork, the sparkle in his eyes something the painter covets. But the portrait has never wilted in the years you've known him. It's grown older, sure, but it is not old. He's still shy sometimes; he still looks down when he smiles, and he still turns his cheek when you tell him he's beautiful. 

“Do you…” He rubs his palms over his thighs, looking up at you through his lashes. “Do you wish you could go back?”

It's your turn to sit. You drop into his chair, your arms curling over the back of the seat, and watch him on his journey to his knees. “I don't know, Joel,” you tell him. “I think about that day and part of me wants the magic of it back. I want the breeze and the sun and the white canopy and I want you sliding this ring on my finger. But knowing what I know now…”

“You wouldn't have married me,” he says like it's the only answer. His eyes are wet and sad and they sparkle so bright in the day. 

“I wish I’d known,” you say plainly, bringing his hand to your cheek and resting it over the cool wedding band. “I wish you would have told me everything. I wish you didn't make me question your love, even for a second. I wish you could have spared me all this anger I have—all this pain.”

He’s stone-still, a figure in a portrait, and you brush your fingers across his cheek. “But killing isn't what you are, Joel. It’s what you do. And I’m so tired of being angry.”

You say it fiercely, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth, your throat tightening. You swipe your thumbs under your eyes and meet your husband’s eye. “I love you more than my anger and my hurt have room for. And if I can love you this hard, if I can feel all this pain and still be that same girl who fell for the guy from the restaurant, then I can let myself get hurt all over again.”

Joel shakes his head, cupping your face in his hands as his eyes brim with tears. “Oh, baby…” 

“I know it's never been an easy marriage,” you say, your voice breaking, “and I’m always travelling, and I know that I can get snippy and we bicker, but I wouldn't go back to that day, Joel, because I wouldn't change anything. Even if I have to feel all of this again, I wouldn't take it all back.”

His inhale shudders through him and your heart lurches out of your chest. “I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek, catching a tear that falls. “I’ve hurt you too much to ever be worthy of what you've given me, sweetheart. I ain't a good man, or even a decent one. But fuck, if I can be good for you, I’ll pray to whatever God they want me to. I’ll scrape my knees and put my hands together and fake it ‘til I’m someone you want. I swear it, baby.”

“Joel.” You gently pry his hands away. “The life you've lived, the things you've been through… I can't change any of it. I can't be what you need all the time, and fuck, I want to be. I do, Joel. But this life is something you have to figure out yourself. Nobody should force you to believe in something that's only ever caused you pain.”

He never told you about the tattoo; you had to find it yourself. Shucking the hem of his shirt up over his head, two weeks separating the last time you’d been able to indulge in his body, you trailed your fingers up his back and paused at the sound of him hissing through his teeth. 

“Easy, cowboy,” you cooed. “Are you all right?”

Wordlessly, he turned, taking your hand and lifting it to the reddish skin around the black ink. You gasped, your fingers jolting backward as if struck by a feeler of lightning. 

“Joel,” you said tremulously, “please don't tell me you were drunk and this was an impulse decision.”

“Guys in the Marines would get tattoos that meant somethin’ to them. Easier to carry around with you when you're away.” Joel met your gaze again, your tearful eyes, and brought your knuckles to his mouth. “Tell me you want it gone, and it's gone.”

You shook your head, a laugh snaking past the lump in your throat. “Selfishly, I think it’s very sexy.”

He chuckled, kissing the breath from your lungs. 

The memory is heavy in your stomach. It's something you'll have to roll around in your mouth a thousand times before the taste begins to dissolve. 

“I need time, Joel,” you tell him. “I need to wrap my head around things. I… I can't be the girl you want right now.”

Joel brushes his thumb over your chin. “You have always been the girl I want,” he says. “If you need time, you have it. If you need a warm body, you have it. I’m whoever you want me to be. And if it ain't a husband, then… then that's okay. But I can’t promise you that I won't stop tryin’ to get my wife back. That’s not who I am.”

You sniffle, twirling the ring on his finger. “You’ll get sick of it. The waiting.”

He smiles so softly that you can feel a bud begin to bloom in the core of you, nourished by the way he keeps his hand on your thigh, absently rubbing the sore muscles there.  “I waited my whole life for someone like you to come along—someone who could give me the purpose I’d been lookin’ for. I can wait another lifetime. I can wait a thousand.” 

“You’ll resent me. You’ll start to hate me.” You don't know why it comes pouring out of you, but the gates are brittle wood and they snapped in the torrent. “I’m an angry drunk. I smell like paint half the time. I travel for work.”

Joel just studies your face, some inexplicable calm etching out the agony. “You take your coffee with milk and sugar and you can't stand it black, but you make it that way for me anyway. You sleep until noon when you're jet lagged and I sit up in bed just to watch you dream. You lie in my arms on the couch at home and ask me about my day even when you're noddin’ off. You dreamed about love when you were a little girl, the way it happens in books. You told me in your wedding vows that you'd found it with me. You think I could resent a girl like that?”

He smiles like it hurts and heals all at once, like it's a foregone conclusion, like you were meant to be loved by him. 

“Time doesn't mean a goddamn thing. I know the girl I see in front of me now. Time won't change how much I love her.”

Flipping through the list of potential venues, Joel tucked into your side, you said, “We’ll have an outdoor ceremony. No churches.”

“Baby, I won't burst into flames if I step inside a church.” Joel playfully flicked his tongue over your nipple, obscured by his T-shirt. “Tommy, on the other hand… things he's done…”

You laughed, gently pushing at his head. “No churches,” you said again. “I don't care how much more we’ll have to pay or travel to get around it. You're my husband. You're my comfort, and I want to be what's comfortable for you. Understood?”

He looked up at you, his lips parted as if on the precipice of speech. You beamed, bringing his face to yours and kissing him deeply. 

“But if the wind knocks over the gazebo, you're not getting your dick inside me on our wedding night,” you said against his mouth. Joel shook his head, yanking you on top of him and tearing the shirt from your body. Your binder landed with a flutter of loose pages to the floor. 

“You didn't kill Cabrera.”

Joel lowers his eyes. “No. He got away.”

“So there's still a contract on your head.”

“For now.”

“So,” you say with a sigh, crossing the room and digging through your bag, “you have to go.”

“I have to go,” he echoes, following you like a shadow. “No matter what… I’m finishing it. Tonight.”

You pull the switchblade from your bag, open Joel’s fist, and place the cool wood hilt in his palm. 

“Goddammit, Tommy,” he says under his breath. “He shouldn't have…”

“But he did,” you say. “He said I should be the one to have it. I think it should be yours.”

He curls his fingers over the hilt and flicks open the blade. It's light, but it seems to weigh him down. You rest your hand over his. 

“Do what you need to do.”

He drops his forehead to yours and closes his eyes, soaking in this final breath exchanged between your silent bodies, dipping his fingers in the sanctified waters and coming out unscalded. 

Bill calls Joel not a moment after he steps onto the street outside the Continental. 

“That's a heavy price on your head.”

“Yeah, Bill, I know.” He breathes in the cool air, like cigarette smoke, his nostrils stinging. Trash and a new, fresh breeze carried into the city. Nothing that stays here ever thrives. “Stayed alive so far.”

“So I hear,” grunts the Manager, “and leaving behind a hell of a lot of cleanup.”

“I won't stick you with the check,” says Joel. “It's my business.”

“I don't conduct business inside this hotel,” says Bill, “which is why I won't tell you that a certain helicopter at a certain helipad is refuelling as we speak.”

Joel smirks, flicking out his cuff to check the time. “Any reason why you aren't tellin’ me this?”

“I like you, Joel. Despite myself.” 

Silent, he waits for more. 

“Besides,” Bill continues, “we live and die by honour. And you've saved my ass more than once.”

Joel snorts. “Which time are you thankin’ me for?”

“Just take my goddamn advice and leave this world. For good this time.”

“I will,” says Joel. “One way or another. Thanks, Bill.”

High above the ground, sitting in the alcove by the window, you watch storm clouds gather over the city, darkening the sky, the sun, and your Joel, so far away, slouching calmly toward whatever end he will choose. 

It's raining. 

The first time you kissed him, a downpour suddenly swept up the both of you and you'd scrambled underneath a bridge by the water. You both laughed until your ribs were sore, holding hands as you ran, a soaking wet playbill above each of your heads for cover. 

“At least the show was good,” you shouted over the roar of the rainfall. 

Joel was mesmerised into stillness by the colours of the traffic lights in your eyes, how they shifted over the planes of your face. Starting to think like an artist, you'd tease, and he'd lean into it, a planet circling its sun. 

“It was all right,” he said, taking the playbill from your hand. “You could catch a cold. We should get a cab.”

“Always my hero.” You grinned up at him, your eyes scanning his face in that particular way they did, as if ingesting the sight of him to later put the lines to a canvas. “Did you have a good time, Joel? I mean, really. You won't offend me.”

He grimaced. “I, uh… well, see, I’m not the best judge, and… I guess—”

“Joel.”

There was a gleam in your eyes that could have been amusement or could have been hunger. He doesn't remember. He only saw you tilt your chin and lower your eyes to his mouth, to that one place the Sisters always called vulgar, obscene, a place meant only for His word—

“Can I kiss you, Joel Miller, or will you keep being all heroic?”

It was soft, gentle, exploratory. Your mouth opened his like a wound, setting the scorching blade of your lips to the gash, staunching the blood. You healed and burned him, one hand on his back beneath his jacket, the other cupping his face. It reminded him of the statue that lived in the theatre underneath the church where all the boys and girls trained. An angel cast in white marble, cradling the face of Saint Eustace. The statue was chipped where his eye was meant to be. 

He remembers the way he shuddered when you touched him like that. He remembers the chill that started in his feet and crept up his spine. Something like coming alive, settling back into his own body—no longer a spirit haunting the shell of a home but a man. 

You pulled back, but Joel curled his hand around the back of your neck and kissed you again, deeper, maybe a little too eager, too inexperienced—but you gasped, fingers curling in his hair, your body curving into his. Your noses bumped when you separated, and he remembers laughing. 

The rain is nothing like that night. It's the lash of a whip across his face, seeping colour from the world instead of infusing it with light and movement. The water by the docks slaps against the concrete and boats rock and groan against their mooring. The lights of the city are distant now. 

Joel steps out of the car. 

He marches toward his target, cocking the pistol in his hand, and calls out a name. It gets lost in the roll of thunder across the sky and lodges in his chest. 

Cabrera waits on the landing pad, looking wraithlike in a long black coat and a pair of leather gloves. His pilot fuels the helicopter nearby. Neither of them hear Joel’s voice in the air. The rising sun is what gives him away—or maybe the gunshot, as he lifts his arm and pulls the trigger. 

It does not pierce flesh. It ricochets off one of the rotor blades. He had aimed slightly to the left. 

The pilot scampers off into hiding, but the slash of the bullet through the rainfall is enough to get the attention Joel wants. Cabrera reaches inside the lining of his jacket and fires a single shot. Joel can feel it tear through skin and muscle, but it doesn't hurt. 

“Joel,” greets Cabrera. 

“Manuel.” 

His chest heaves, his jacket soaked through, the cold sinking bone-deep. 

“Let's finish this.”

The glimmer in those depthless black eyes is the panther at the hunt, relentless in its hunger, licking its chops at the sight of a challenge. For all the coward’s blood in his veins, it still pulses at the prospect of winning. 

“Like men,” says Cabrera, tossing his gun aside at the same time Joel does. “With honour. No more guns.”

And it's laughable: the thought that there is any honour left in a world like this. A world where children are beaten and lashed and trained to hold a weapon too big for their hands. A world that burns villages, butchers families, and still claims that without rules, we live with the animals. 

A world as unruly as this cannot be ruled. He never truly considered it until he saw the sad gleam in your eye, felt the empathetic touch of your hand on his face, and began to realise that maybe he should be furious. 

But because he already knows he's going to win, Joel lets his opponent land the first blow. 

The blood is tangy, near-sweet, as he swipes his forearm over his mouth and smears crimson on his shirtsleeve. It tingles faintly on his lips and crackles, warm as the melt from a late-winter snow. He feels it settle in the grooves of his palms, the hairs of his beard. He’s drowning in it. 

Cabrera hits hard, but he’s slow. He’ll take five punches in the time it takes to wind up for one. Joel brings his arm up to block the next and delivers a blow to the sternum with his knee as his opponent’s guard drops. Wide open, Cabrera stumbles a few steps back, choking down the telltale wheeze of being winded. Joel marches forward, relentless in his crusade, grasping him by the scruff of his neck, teeth bared like a mad wild dog, and bears his skull down on the side of the railing. Around them, the wind howls and lashes at his clothes, but he still hears the pained scream as if it were poured into his ears. 

Cabrera drops to his knees, and Joel grabs him again, bashing his head repeatedly against the steel bar, the lapel of an Italian leather coat bunching between his fingers, tainted by rainwater and the fist of the man who's come to take his life. 

And fuck, Joel wants to make it last. 

But there's a knife in his opponent’s hand, conjured from the darkness of his coat pocket, and Joel must release him to avoid the lethal slash of the blade. Blinking blood and lashing rain from his eyes, the man lunges with a snarl, and Joel recovers from his lost victory, stopping him with his fingers curled around his opponent’s wrist. He brings his hand to the crook of Cabrera’s elbow and uses his leverage to snap the bone.

Yowling, Cabrera drops to his haunches, the knife clattering to the ground. Joel, chest heaving, stands over him, flexing his fingers as he readies his fist for the killing blow.

His name leaves Cabrera’s bloodied mouth, accompanied by a mouthful of crimson-tainted saliva spat on the ground at Joel’s feet. 

“Joel…” He lifts his head, cradling his broken arm, and sneers. There’s a chilling glow of satisfaction in it. “Did you get your perfect life, Joel? Do you really think you’ve won? It won’t ever stop. Not after you’ve killed me, not after you’ve killed all of them. Is that what you’re going to do? Kill them all?”

He could. He has done far worse. He has spilled blood for gold coins and superficial alliances and someone else's revenge. He has stalked, stolen, lied, killed, and he could finish this now, so easily, with the flick of a blade. 

But the song of death does not call to him now. 

For so long he had trudged, unmoored, through heavy crimson blood. Like pulling at the seams of velvet, he'd sewn more lives into the sea of red and he never looked behind him to see the souls trying to pull him down at the ankles. He didn't know purpose until he saw the way the candlelight flickered in your eyes, until he tilted his head to the side and realised your smile was a new kind of beautiful from each angle. 

The rain sticks to his lashes and he thinks of an old song of prayer the Sisters used to chant. He remembers curling his fingers around one of the rosaries that hung from the large cross in the cathedral and wincing in anticipation. He thought he would burn—that the metal would leave a red stain on his palm. It never did. 

Maybe that's why he never believed. Surely, if there was a God, Joel Miller would have burned by now. 

He thinks of shopping for furniture and date nights and lazy mornings, tangled in bedsheets. Your mouth, smiling against his, whispering I love you across the breakfast table. Dancing—or swaying, more like—under the kitchen light. Loving easily, never feeling as if he must grab hold of the cross and burn himself upon it just to feel. 

Joel turns the switchblade in his hand, lurches forward, and plunges the knife into Cabrera’s chest. 

There is no noise but a faint gurgle from his mouth, his hand weakly rising to grasp the hilt. Joel drops to his knees and fishes Cabrera’s cell phone from his pocket. 

“The blade is stuck in your aorta,” he says. “If you pull it out, you’ll bleed out and die.” He puts the rain-slick screen in front of Cabrera’s face. “Pull the contract.”

A few feeble taps are all it takes, and Joel Miller is no longer a target. His name glares back at him on the screen, from two million to nothing, not the boogeyman any longer but something akin to a civilian. Joel tosses the phone into the water and turns to leave. 

“See you in hell, Joel,” Cabrera chokes, still grasping the shiny wooden hilt of the blade.

He barely hauls himself into the car, which chokes to a rumbling start. There's blood seeping through his shirt where Cabrera shot him, and his fingers shake as they pull away from the wound, the red so bright, so alive. Joel grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. 

If there’s a God, he thinks, I hope you fucking hear me now. 

Tell me that we don’t get what we deserve. Because there is nothing I deserve in this world if I cannot keep what I’ve found.

His fingers trembling, smearing blood across the screen, he makes a call. 

And your voice on the line, soft, sticky with sleep, whispering his name—just his name: Joel?—is what wrenches the first sob from his throat. 

Joel, you say, like it means something, like it's precious. A jewel pressed from dusty black coal. Come back to me. Come home. 

So he does. 

[rubyreduji]

reading and doing — ljh

summary: jihoon catches you reading fanfic about him

tags: smut (minors dni!), gn!reader, idol!jihoon, pre-established relationship, lowkey crack warnings: badly written dirty talk, small dick jihoon <3, explicit unprotected sex, dom(ish) jihoon, choking, restraint for a sec, spit used as lube, fingering, rough sex, fingers in mouth, creampie wc: 2.3k an: a meta ass fanfic. i tried to keep it gn so pls don’t mention the use of certain words okay bye

Woozi thrusts his thick, large juicy cock into your soaking wet pussy and you squeal in delight.

A giggle escapes from your throat as you read the sentence. You will never not be amused by how people like to describe Jihoon’s dick in their writing.

“What’s so funny over there?” Jihoon asks as he turns his desk chair to look at you where you sit on his studio couch. 

“Oh nothing,” you tell him, a small grin still plastered on your face. 

Jihoon knows better than that and stands up and walks over to you. Before you can react Jihoon plucks your phone out of your hand and looks at what you were reading. A look of confusion mixed with disgust appears on his face.

“What is this?”

You snatch your phone back from him. “Fanfiction. About you specifically.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Carats write stories about you, usually about you and them being a couple. The stuff I read is mostly sex stories, but some of the slice of life stuff is cute too,” you explain with a shrug.

“Sex stories?!” Jihoon now looks more worried than anything else.

“Yeah, they’re kinda funny. Everyone thinks you have a big dick.” You know your boyfriend isn’t insecure about his size, whether it’s his height or…other parts of him, but you still like to playfully tease him every once in a while.

“I don’t know why the Carats would want to write something like that.”

“It lets them be delusional about being with you, let them have it Jihoonie.”

“It sounds like something Mingyu would like. You know how he is about fan interactions.”

“Oh there’s a lot for Mingyu!” You tell Jihoon. “I don’t read them though of course, I only read yours.”

“That I also don’t get. Why even read them when you have the real thing.”

“Because it’s fun! I like to see how people characterize you. The one I’m reading is just for shits and giggles, but some of them are actually good. Here.” You scroll on your phone until you find your folder of saved fics and pull up one of your favorites.

Jihoon takes your phone from you and reads a couple of lines before scrunching up his face and shaking his head. “I still don’t get it. You can’t actually find stuff like this hot.”

“I don’t know, it kind of is. I know you better than anyone else so I can just put you in those situations. It’s fun. I read them when you’re away on tour.”

This gets another dramatic look out of Jihoon. “You do not.”

“I miss you okay! And you’re always busy so I just go to the next best thing. If it makes you feel better sometimes I’ll also put on Ruby when I’m masturbating and just listen to that to get off.”

“Okay and now this conversation has taken a whole new turn.”

You giggle. “C’mon Hoonie, just read this with me. It’ll be fun! Maybe you’ll even find you like them.”

“I’m not sure how I’ll find enjoyment in reading what someone else has written about me.”

“You need to take a break anyways, please!” You give him your best puppy dog eyes and Jihoon glares at you but sits down on the couch.

“I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” he grumbles.

“Because you love me. And you’re secretly curious.”

Jihoon moves so your body is between his legs, your back leaning against his front. His head rests on your shoulder as you hold the phone up to read the fic. 

“This is technically a few chapters into a series but I really enjoy the smut so if the plot doesn’t make sense, don’t mind it.”

“Y/N this ridiculous-”

“Shhh, just read.” 

Jihoon listens to you and you can tell he is actually reading the fic from the small grunts he lets out in reaction to the story. There’s a bit of plot at the start before it gets into the smut and Jihoon stops you at a moment when you can scroll to it.

“Do people really like this? They want to see me in these situations?”

“Oh come on Jihoon you know what the fans think of you. You can’t be totally oblivious. You read your comments and I know you have a burner Twitter.”

Jihoon doesn’t have a rebuttal for that and you smile knowing you’re right. 

“Y/N I really do have work I need to-”

“Wait no, this is the good part.” You lean all of your body weight on Jihoon so he can’t get up, even though you know realistically he’s strong enough to displace you if he really wanted to. Jihoon just huffs and allows you to keep him hostage.

You try not to giggle as you read the smut, especially because you can tell Jihoon is invested. The smut in the fanfic that you picked isn’t anywhere near how Jihoon actually acts in bed and you wish you could see his face to see if he’s either intrigued or disgusted.

“Do people actually think I’m this mean?” Jihoon finally says and you laugh.

“Some people. You can be kinda mean sometimes. I think on camera you come off as standoffish,” you say. “But a lot of people think you’re sweet too. Also people are just kinky like that and enjoy this stuff.”

“Do you? You know I’m nothing like this.”

“I think you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t think me reading this stuff is me actually wanting you to be like this, I just think it’s fun to picture you in different scenarios. I mean, if people wrote smut about me would you want to read it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it, because that’s weird to think about,” Jihoon grunts.

“Getting defensive there Hoonie?”

“Just shut up and go back to reading,” Jihoon grumbles.

“Oh you want to go back to reading? So you like it?”

“I just want you to shut up.” 

You do shut up, but only because you want Jihoon to continue reading.

The fic is getting to your favorite part when things start to get really intense. You have to give props to the writer for really going in. You know that you would never be able to find such…colorful language to use to describe the things you and Jihoon get up to.

You can feel Jihoon shift behind you. A small smirk spreads on your face when you feel the smallest bit of bulge press into your lower back. Jihoon likes this. 

“You okay back there Jihoonie?” You wiggle your hips a bit and Jihoon lets out a huff that you’re pretty sure is hiding a moan. “Enjoying this?”

“No.” His voice sounds tense and he answered a little too quickly to not be suspicious.

“It’s okay if you do Ji. It’s a bit of an ego boost isn’t it? Knowing all these people find you’re hot. I know this fic is particularly well liked, it has nearly three thousand interactions on it, and then all of the people who have read it without interacting. Do you like that? Three thousand people want to fuck you Hoonie.”

“I-I don’t-”

“Even if you don’t find that hot, isn’t the actual story kind of sexy? Just imagine it’s you and me in this scenario. Don’t you wanna be tangled up together as you fuck my brains out?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon whines. “Stop.”

“Stop? Stop what? Teasing you? No, I think you like it, just like how you liked the fanfic. Doesn’t it sound fun? Don’t you wanna do mean things to me while telling me how pretty I am?”

“Th-”

“Admit it baby, you like thinking about putting your big, fat cock into me.” You know you’re taking a gamble with your choice of words but it seems to work because Jihoon finally breaks.

You feel Jihoon’s hand come up around your neck and slam your body back into his. “Maybe I do.” His mouth is right next to your ear and you have to admit you do let out a shudder. “You want me to do mean things to you?”

“I think you want to do mean things to me.”

“Maybe I do, what then?”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

That’s all Jihoon needs to flip you both over, position himself over you. You definitely were not expecting to awaken a new kink in Jihoon when you told him to read the fic with you, but you’re definitely not complaining.

Jihoon keeps his loose grip around the base of your neck as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. The kiss is harsh and hurried and it doesn’t take long for Jihoon to stick his tongue in your mouth. He licks at your mouth and you arch your body into his.

His body rests between your legs and you can feel him grind down against you, his dick already fully hard. Jihoon’s mouth pops off of yours with a loud smacking sound. His hand moves off of your neck and trails down your body before it makes it to the hem of your shirt. He pushes his hand up under it, his fingertips making contact with the warm skin of your stomach.

He rubs his palm over your waist before moving higher to grope at your chest. His finger flicks over your nipple and you moan. Jihoon chuckles at this.

“Clothes off,” he growls as he pulls away from you. You quickly comply, stripping down to nothing as Jihoon does this same.

His cock is already slick with pre-cum at the tip and you have the urge to get on your knees and suck him off. Jihoon doesn’t allow this though, as he pushes you back onto the couch. You’re definitely worked up yourself by now and Jihoon can tell.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” you bit back. 

“Ah, but I’m the one in control here.” Jihoon grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. “Aren’t I?”

“Hoon-ah, please,” you beg.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

Jihoon grins. “Glady.”

Jihoon lets go of your hands and brings his fingers up to his lips. You watch as he spits on the digits before moving them down to play with your entrance. You buck your hips into his hand and Jihoon uses his other hand to push them back down.

After what feels like an eternity of teasing Jihoon finally pushes one finger into you and you let out a mewl. Jihoon pumps it in and out of you until you start to loosen up and then he shoves another one into you. He continues to do this over again until you’re finally adequately opened up.

“Ready for me?”

You nod and Jihoon lines his cock up to you and pushes in. It’s a comfortable, familiar feeling as Jihoon starts to rock his hips into you. Jihoon is buried balls deep into you when he grabs your leg and hikes up over his shoulder.

Whereas Jihoon is usually soft and slow with you, he’s now fast and hard as he slams his cock into you deeper and deeper. Jihoon has always been an adequate lover, but now you get what people mean by it’s not the size but how it’s used.

Jihoon locks one of his hands around your thigh, digging his fingertips into the fat there. You’re sure you’re going to bruise later, but you don’t care right now. His other hand reaches down and cups your jaw. His thumb swipe over your lower lip before pressing down.

“You right, you do look pretty like this,” Jihoon smirks down at you. This thumb presses harder into your bottom lip until Jihoon finally pushes it all the way into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. “Next time I’m going to tie you up and make you choke on my cock.”

You whine around Jihoon’s thumb at the image. It’s a good thing Jihoon is blocking you from saying anything because you’re sure if you tried it would just be utter nonsense.

With the way Jihoon is cramming up your g-spot you know you’re not going to last much longer. Luckily it seems like Jihoon is close as well from the concentration displayed on his face.

“Fuck, gonna cum inside, yeah?” You just nod the best you can.

You’re expecting Jihoon to cum first, but your climax creeps up on you and suddenly your legs are shaking as your back arches up off the couch. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let out a wanton moan.

Seeing you fucked out thorougly makes Jihoon spill over the edge finally, his warm cum spilling into you. He stays in you for a moment to catch his breath. He leans down to press kisses to your bare shoulder, nipping at the skin as he does.

Once you two finally have recovered, Jihoon slowly pulls out of his. You can feel his cum slide out of you as he does and it makes you whimper a bit.

“You were so good for me,” Jihoon coos.

“So you liked it?” You grin at him.

He defeatedly nods. “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Yay! See Hoonie, look at all the doors this has opened. Maybe we should read more fanfiction together.”

“No, nope. We discovered this one thing, no more.” With that Jihoon gets up to go get you some water and a rag to clean up with.

Despite his final protests, you still feel victorious as you grab your phone and scroll down to the comments of the fic you two were reading.

You’re not going to understand this, but thank you SO MUCH for writing this fic, you’re the best &lt;3

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @jihoonliker @valentxi @1694 @niktwazny303 @brxzilianbaby @moshiyuron @im-gemmy @honeylovemoon @wonchansbrooklynn @opwolfe @luvthatleader-nim @cbgisland @lorde-oftherings @hoeforcheol @hotricewoozi @prpldahy @nox-writes @wujihoons @0717luv @yeosayang @marzmeltdown @calvinkleinhoon

join my taglist: here!

[imagine-that-100]

Will We Talk? | Part 2 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 15.2k

Warnings: Smut 

A/N: Besties, hellooo! I honestly can’t explain how shocked I am that with the response to Part 1. Alex stans you’re back and I’m thrilled you enjoyed the first part! I’m so excited to share this one with you, I can’t believe after almost 2 years this fic is finally coming out and I’ve finally finished part 2 ahahhaa. Really hope you enjoy it, can’t wait for your reactions. Let me know if theres anything that you want to see happen in part 3 because I’m very interested! Thanks again to @alovesreading and @kennedy-brooke for putting up with me pecking your head and helping with this chapter, it’s much appreciated! Thanks everyone for reading, and I really hope you enjoy! Thanks a million x

| My Masterlist | 

| Part 1 |

Just as you were turning yourself around again to head upstairs, Alex leaves you shell shocked when he asks you, “Do you want to fuck me?”

Instantly your eyes are the widest they could possibly get and you’re sure your jaw falls open. Looking at him intently to try and make sure you’re not dreaming this, you deadpan, “Excuse me?”

“Do you want to fuck me?” Alex asks, putting the record back like it's the most casual thing to ask someone he barely speaks to, “Is that why I make you nervous?”

This should be the easiest response you’ve ever given him.

“I-”

But your words fail you. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

Wait… Do I want to fuck him?

You scorn yourself, not needing that question answered right now because you’re so confused, you have your own questions that need answering.

Your words are immediately defensive and you don’t hesitate to narrow your eyes as you ask, “What have I done to make you think that I want to fuck you?”

“Well everything that I just mentioned is what rules out fan behaviour.” Alex tells you saying this like it’s the most normal thing leaving his mouth, “It was just something else that popped into my mind whilst I was trying to figure you out.”

Why is he trying to figure me out in the first place though?

After a second Alex raises his eyebrows at you, curiously wondering, “Well?”

“I- I’ve not- ever really given it much thought.” You stumble on your words, because in truth you think you’d maybe twice looked at him and guessed he was good in bed and you didn’t let your mind wonder past that.

When he asks, “Do you not think it would be good?” after waiting for your answer, you’re sure he can read your mind.

Your brain is whurring around, but you can get it together enough to say, “I never said that.”

Alex smiles a little at that and he takes a step closer as he asks, “So your answer is yes then?”

“Never said that either.” You shake your head, taking as much of a deep breath that you can without making it obvious.

Alex shrugs a little as he watches you, “Well it's a simple question.”

Is he deluded? This is the furthest from a simple question he could ever get.

“You sound like you want to fuck me.” You fire back at him, hoping he’d give you some inclination of how he even wanted you to answer.

He smirks at you as he says, “I mean, I'd be interested in seeing if your mouth can do something other than talk at a hundred miles an hour.”

Holy fucking shit.

If you’re honest this feels like you’re having the biggest practical joke of all time played on you. You have no other idea where all this would be coming from, because you certainly can’t imagine Alex Turner - out of all the people you know - saying suggestive things to you.

You’re truly shocked to your core. Never did you ever think that this brief trip to your house would have you gawking at Alex like he was a headless chicken. But because he just said that, you’re a bit fuming now.

“You’re sounding pretty cocksure.” You frown a little at that, getting defensive, “Why does me being nervous and chatty around you automatically make you think I want to fuck you?”

“You’re not like this with anyone else.” Alex smiles as he tries to explain himself, because to him it makes perfect sense. He’s experienced it before which is why he’d rather hear you tell him straight and he hopes that explaining where he’s coming from will make you more vocal, “Which tells me you can’t blame every interaction we’ve had on you being an introvert. And you don’t know me well enough to be nervous around me because you really like me, so that leaves me with the assumption that you might want to fuck me.”

“That's possibly the most arrogant thing that’s ever left your mouth.” You frown at him but Alex can’t help but think it’s adorable. Like a mouse is angry at a cat.

But then you make him fully grin when you say in your anger, “Besides the fact you think my mouth would be occupied before yours, that's hilarious in itself. No wonder you’re single.”

Stop fucking talking Y/N. Nulled your point completely there, you idiot. Stop thinking about it!

“So you’ve planned this out already.” Alex smirks, “Good to know.”

“No I-” You stop yourself from saying anything else you regret as panic bubbles in your stomach. You take a deep breath with your eyes closed and you start to say, “Alex can you p-”

But your words halt and your eyes open when you feel his hand come to rest on your hip. You see he’s right in front of you now and he’s looking at you reassuringly with only a vague amused smile on his lips.

You’re positive you stop breathing when he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes go wide again, and unable to stop yourself you ask, “Right now?”

“Yes.” Alex nods with a small laugh.

“No,” You shake your head, and shock is so clearly seen on your face and heard in your voice when you say, “You can’t.”

Alex has to ask you, “Why not?”

At the end of the day a kiss could make up your mind. Something so innocent is surely something you wouldn’t be opposed to.

You almost make Alex burst out laughing when your defence is, “Because I’ve not had a drink.” and not because you don’t actually want to.

His lips are curled up into a smile when he asks, “Why do you need a drink for me to kiss you?”

“To help me relax.” You tell him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and the singer has to keep it together.

Feeling the need to remind you he blankly states, “It’s a kiss.”

“Sorry,” You shake your head, looking at him like he’s just told you he has three big toes or something abnormal. What a fucking idiot, it’s not just a kiss when you’ve not had a drink. You had to ask him, “When was the last time you kissed someone sober that wasn’t a person you were seeing?”

Alex laughs openly for a few seconds there and the way he’s laughing does seem genuine. It’s the same laugh that you’ve heard when he’s in Miles’ company or anyone else who he actually likes to spend time with. You just really don’t know why you’re hearing it, but it does calm you down.

Both of you share eye contact for a few seconds as you watch him laugh and you’re processing the past few minutes in your mind. Alex Turner, your best friends’ husband’s best mate, has as asked you if you want to fuck him. And he’s pretty much told you that he wants to fuck you. And he’s asked if he could kiss you.

And as you’re thinking all of this, you’ve subconsciously settled into his hold on you. Both his hands are holding your hips now, resting gently as his thumbs move over the soft material of your skirt.

You’ve not realised you’re now looking at him inquisitively, you’re looking up at his features like you’re curious. And truthfully, now you are. The longer you look at his face, the more you wonder if his skin is as smooth as it looks. The more you catch sight of his lips, the more you wonder how he’d use them when they are against yours.

So Alex asks you a simpler question in a quiet voice, hoping to not scare you out of the trance you seem to have got yourself in. “Do you want me to kiss you, Y/N?”

You try not to think about what he’s said, instead you look up into his eyes during this quiet moment you’re sharing. He seems to understand that you’re silently asking him if he actually wants to kiss you, so Alex just leans down and answers your question.

The moment his lips connect to yours, you feel like your heart is about to go into cardiac arrest. Like it’s the last burst of energy before it ultimately gives up on you and you pass into a peaceful and less anxiety inducing afterlife.

But you don’t die on the spot. Instead, your lips move against his slowly as you let him lead you.

And Alex kisses like he has no other place to be apart from right here. The previous rush of needing to get back here and get changed before Katie and Jamie come to pick you up is as if that was never the plan at all.

You’re trying not to spiral or let your erratic nervousness get the better of you, all you try to do is focus on every movement you feel. On Alex’s hands wrapping further around your back, tightening his hold on you as he kisses you sweetly.

You're taken aback when he deepens your kiss which ends up with your hand taking a hold of his shirt and you pull on it a little as you whimper into his mouth. The noise you release doesn’t phase Alex in the slightest, if anything it encourages him further and he no longer treats you like you’re about to break.

It turns heated and Alex is pleased that you’re responding so well to him. When he draws a moan out of you, he can’t help but feel proud of himself and when you tug a little on his shirt to keep him in the kiss, he really likes it.

He’s not been able to get the thought of what you would be like to kiss or fuck since that night you came to his gig. And finding out that you were available and that you weren’t seeing anyone when he walked you home that night earlier in the year, meant that it was all Alex could think about since getting back home from the latest leg of the tour.

You’re a little breathless when he pulls away and you’re dazed to say the least. Alex opens his eyes first and sees that yours are still closed as if lost in the moment. Your grip is still strong on his shirt like his is around your waist.

“That was good, yeah?” Alex asks softly when you open your eyes.

Your words start to fail you immediately, “I-” so you end up looking down as you feel your cheeks heating up.

But the last thing Alex wants is for you to go back into your shell. “Y/N?”

You have no idea why, but you’re in so much shock at what’s just happened that you blurt out, “I don’t do one night stands.”

Alex smiles a little at that, edging his bets a little when he raises his eyebrows, “Who said it had to be one night?”

“Well, I- I’ve never done the friends with benefits thing.” Blinking a few times, as if to get your thoughts in order, you add, “In fact, I don’t even know if we’re quite friends.”

“We’ve known each other for nearly a decade Y/N,” He fakes a little hurt, “You wouldn’t call me your friend?”

“I’d call Jamie my friend. I’d call Miles, Matt, and Nick my friends.” You're honest when you say, “But I think this is the longest time you’ve ever spent alone with me.”

Alex just grins, “I think this is the only conversation we’ve ever had where you’re not speaking at double speed. Is that because you’re too nervous to even speak now or because you’re shocked?”

The singer is pleased that you don’t go back into your shell at his teasing. Instead, he’s met with the firery side of you that he met earlier when he asked if you wanted to fuck him.

“This might be the only conversation we’ve ever had. And it’s very much the shock.” Some self consciousness kicks back in though as you step out of his arms, “Do you even think I’m attractive or are you messing with me for your own amusement?”

After you move away from him a little, Alex goes and perches on the arm of your settee and folds his arms together when he answers, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that.”

“It’s a perfectly valid question.” You tell him, mimicking his movements and crossing your own arms.  

“No, I’m not messing with you. I think you’re really attractive.” Alex tells you truthfully.

It’s confirmed. You’ve definitely accidentally fallen into an alternate reality where this Alex Turner is a hell of a lot nicer than the other one you're used to.

You just believe this further when he adds, “I have done for a long time, but only wanted to do something about it the last few times I’ve seen you.”

“Are you on drugs?” You deadpan, crossing your arms as you walk towards him to stare into his brown eyes hoping for a sign that there’s a fucking party of drugs in his bloodstream.

But Alex laughs as you check his pupils and he shakes his head, “No. Not even had a drink yet.”

And you believe him because his pupils are a normal size and he seems with it in every way other than the words spilling from his mouth. And that just leaves you so beyond confused.

Running a hand through your hair, you scorn him as you begin to pace, “You could have at least hinted or something.”

“I definitely did.” Alex tells you.

Bullshit.

You shake your head as you pace, scoffing, “When?” as you don’t expect him to have an answer.

“When I told Jamie to invite you to our shows,” Alex holds one finger up and adds a second and third when he lists, “And I gave you that triple A pass, and I got you a drink.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” You stop right in front of him. Wide eyed, you go into teacher mode on him and say, “Half the time you answer me in as little words as possible when I speak to you, that's absolutely no indication that you want to fuck me Alex! I don’t even think you spoke to me that night.”

“I bought you a drink!” Alex argues his point, an amused smile still playing on his lips though. You’re funny when you’re feisty.

You want to roll your eyes at him. You end up counterarguing, “How was I meant to know that was you trying to come on to me if you don’t follow it up with a conversation or a shitty pick up line at the very least?”

Clearly Alex remembers the night better than you do because he tells you, “We had a conversation and you barely let me get a word in edgeways.”

And just as you’re about to argue back to try and wipe that victorious smirk off Alex’s face, your phone starts ringing. Quickly walking around Alex to grab your small bag that you had on before, you pull your phone out and see that it’s Katie calling you.

“Fuck,” You look out of the window and see the taxi pulled up at the side of the road. “They're here.” and you’re not fucking ready.  

You briefly answer the phone and tell your best friend that you’ll be out in a minute. You hang up when Alex gets up from his seat and you start rushing around trying to find your tights again because now you really have run out of time.

But you can’t even do that because when you turn around to try and check in another shopping bag, Alex is there and he quickly kisses you again which catches you by surprise. It doesn’t last anywhere near as long as the other one but it still leaves your lips tingling and wanting more.

Pulling away, Alex tells you, “I’ll go and tell them you’ll just be a minute. I think we’re going to have a fun night, don’t you?”

And all you can do is gormlessly stare after him before he pulls his jacket back on and leaves your house with you genuinely not being able to process the last 10 minutes. And you don’t even have fucking time to process it because you needed to be out of the door 2 minutes ago.

So you opt for the last thing you wanted to do when you left the Cook household. You slip your ripped tights off and throw them in the bin before you leave the house and once you have your bag and your boots back on, you lock up and get into the taxi.

You’re cold already which you’re not pleased about but your temperature is the furthest thing from the front of your mind as you climb in the black taxi and you’re seated beside the man who’d just kissed you twice. He looks at you with an amused grin but you don’t give him any satisfaction of looking back at him.

The annoyance in your system grows when Jamie nods down to your bare, and thankfully smooth, legs and asks, “What’s happened to new tights?”

“I couldn’t find any.” You brush his comment off and just look out of the window so you don’t say something you regret like, ‘blame your best mate for asking if I wanted to fuck him and then he kissed me twice’.

You have to bite your tongue at Jamie’s quiet comment back, “Could have saved you the dull walk back if you’d listen to me, Y/N.”

That trip home is the furthest thing from dull that’s probably ever happened to you.

~*~*~*~

At the club Alex has been quite different to how you were used to him - he seems to always be keeping an eye on you, trying to stay close to you at all times but not in an overbearing way, simply wanting to spend more time in your presence.

And whilst that’s enough to have your mind spinning after what had happened back at your house, his casual flirting is only making you even more aware of the change in his behaviour.

If it wasn’t him briefly brushing your waist with the pads of his fingers before joining your chat with Katie, it was him getting you another drink and whispering in your ear about how good you looked. Everything he did slowly drove you insane, and it was no surprise to you that you drank more as a result.

Thankfully now you’re relaxed about it, the more he’s been doing it, the more you’re enjoying it and want him to continue. But that doesn’t mean his behaviour doesn’t affect you. On the contrary, there were multiple occasions in the first few hours at the club he boldly flirted with you when only you were in earshot and he left you completely at a loss for words. But you can’t lie to yourself, it got your heart racing.

So when he comes up behind you at the bar and smirks as he jokes into your ear, “Christ, do you wanna slow down?” you don’t mind at all.

You laugh as you finish taking the sour shot you just got for yourself, “Nope.”

Being properly tipsy Alex notices definitely loosens you up a little. You don’t look anxious all the time, and you’ll actually laugh at the jokes he’s telling you and you’ll look like you’re not nervous to be around him all the time which he much prefers.

There’s something about the way he’s standing behind you but with his arm on the side of the bar, trapping you in your spot beside him that you quite like. And when you look up at him you’re trying not to smile when you see the way he’s looking at you entirely entertained, like he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from you.

You feel your stomach fill with that nervous feeling as he keeps your gaze, but instead of blabbing on like you usually do, you ask, “Do you want to do a tequila shot with me?”

“Yeah, okay.” Alex nods and you quickly ask the bartender who served you just a minute ago for two shots.

The singer is standing close to you as you both watch the bartender move, but when you feel Alex’s hand move from holding the bar to the small of your back you look up at him. Almost as soon as you do, Alex turns to look at you too and the time that you hold eye contact, you feel that pull between you that you felt when he kissed you earlier.

And you can’t help but want him to do it again. But you need to get something off your chest before you even think about what he offered you earlier. You lean up a little so you can say into his ear for only him to hear, “I'm nervous around you because you’re always grumpy and distant with me. You never engaged in any conversation I’ve ever had with you, except tonight and the time you walked me home.”

“So there…” You lay it all out on the table for him, and you pull back a little so you can see his face again, “Before tonight nothing to do with it was about sex.”

“And I’m sorry about that Y/N. I really am.” He looks and sounds sincere as he says that, and you believe him when he tells you, “I’ll do better.”

“Good.” You nod, “So you should.”

Alex can’t help but smile as you turn back to the bar to grab your shots. The bartender has put the lime on top of the shot for you and you move them towards you.

Leaving Alex’s shot in front of him, you grab the salt shaker and lick the back of your hand before sprinkling some on the same spot before you pass it to Alex. You watch as he does the same and you pick up your lime and shot and wait for him to get to the same point you’re at.

Once he is, you’re both grinning as you turn to face each other properly so you can do the shot. “Cheers.” You smile and raise your glass up to him.

Grinning, Alex clinks his shot against yours and he watches intently as you lick the salt from the back of your hand, him doing the same simultaneously. The shot is next and he can’t help but be a little shocked when you don’t pull a face when you swallow the spirit but there is a little relief on your face when you bite into the lime.

Grinning as you both put the shot glasses back down, you can’t help the small intake of breath as Alex’s hand finds your hip this time and he holds you against him as he asks over the loud music, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Of course, you accept with a smile, “Yeah okay.”

You really do quite like this friendly side of him, whether he’s flirting with you or not, you don’t mind now you’ve had enough to drink. You much prefer this version of him to the grumpy bastard you’re mostly used to.

Pleased with your answer, Alex asks, “Amaretto?”

Nodding, you grin, “Please.” still finding it both amusing and shocking he knows your drink of choice.

Alex orders drinks for you, a double Disaronno on ice, and for him, a whisky coke. Once you have them the bartender asks the both of you, “You paying for everything together?”

And as you shake your head, Alex verbally disagrees telling them, “I’ll get them all please mate.”

“No,” You shake your head, looking at the bartender and saying, “Let me get the shots.”

“I’ve got them Y/N/N.” Alex gently knocks your hand with your card in, out of the way and puts his card on the machine before you can get yours there.

You sigh and look at Alex who now has a shit eating grin on his face and frown. But instead of scorning him like you want to, you tell him, “I’m getting the next ones.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Alex smirks despite having no intention to make you pay for anything tonight.  

You pick your drink up and smile at him, “Thank you.” as you take a sip.

Alex smiles as he picks his drink up too and he rests his hand on the small of your back as the both of you make your way back over to your friends. It's about 10:30pm now and you’ve had a great night so far, especially after Kelly came out to join you too along with Nick and Kirsten.

You always thought Nick's divorce was amicable, thankfully nothing like Matts (although you will and always will be on Breanas side of it). But you’ve always loved that Nick never made Katie feel like she couldn’t bring her friend out with you all, and it helped that Kirsten always got on with Kelly and she just became another friend.

Before you take a seat, you thank Alex again and he smiles and nods as he moves to sit beside Nick. You perch yourself down next to Katie as your previous seat and seeing an opportunity arise you lean in and kiss her cheek to draw her attention.

“Hello gorgeous.” Katie grins, her eyes lighting up seeing it was you who kissed her.

“Oh stop it.” You can’t take a compliment to save your life so your cheeks heat up a little.

Albeit, not as much as they’ve been heating up as a result of Alex flirting with you since you got to this club. His flirting made you glad for the low lighting because you don’t want him seeing just how much he can affect you.

Katie asks, “Where have you been?”

“I went to the toilet and then went to the bar to get a shot, but ended up doing a Tequila with Alex.” You explain why you’ve taken so long.

Katie can’t help but smile at this. It feels like you and Alex have somehow slowly become much less awkward with each other the past few times you’ve seen each other and your best friend is thankful for it.

She knows it’s not from your lack of trying, despite how shy you are. Katie is just glad Alex is finally giving you a break and not being a colossal twat.

So she smiles at you as she points it out to you, “You and Alex seem to be getting on easier today.”

“Yeah,” Your eyes go a little wide at her saying that.

You’ve not told her anything about what was said at your house earlier, nothing about the kisses or the proposition to fuck. So you know she’s just being genuinely happy for you that you’re not feeling awkward on a night out with him.

And you really don’t fancy opening that can of worms and making things awkward for yourself by telling her. Because, despite loving your best friend with all your heart, you know she won't keep her mouth shut and it will make you so overly paranoid, you’d rather pretend like it didn't happen and just keep silently enjoying being flirted with.

“He’s not acting like a total dickhead and ignoring me which is helping conversation.” You nod, chuckling a little as that is usually what made your skin crawl in the past.

“Well yeah, that will do it.” Katie laughs.

You let your eyes glance back to the man who bought you your drink and your heart stutters a little when you see he’s already looking at you. You feel your cheeks heat up again as a result of his stare, but you smile back at him as your stomach flips and you give your attention back to your best friend.

Alex on the other hand, can’t take his eyes off you, or more specifically your lips. Since you’ve returned to your friends, you’ve not stopped licking your lips, making them more plump by the second. All the singer can think about is having them on his own again, and he’s dying for it. He should have kissed you at the bar like he wanted to.

He’s half certain you’re doing it unconsciously as a result of the tequila shot, as he can still taste it on his lips too. You only seem to be doing it when you’re not talking, so he realises that must be the reason you’re doing it and not to just silently torture him.

You girls manage 5 minutes of chatting to each other again before you hear the start of Beyonce’s Single Ladies fill the room and it's Katie who gasps and stands up immediately. She drags you from your seat, demanding that you go and dance with her and after that tequila shot, you’re in no position to deny her.

Kelly and Kirsten join you and you’re not sure how many songs pass, it all becomes a bit of a blur as the boys come up and hand you more drinks when they spot you’ve finished your others. Alex is the one who comes up and gives you yours, the first time you notice his eyes scanning your body and you feel no need to hide under his stare like you usually do, you feel great and you’re having too much fun so you thank him and let your eyes take him in.

He looks fucking great. The Chelsea boots paired with his blue jeans that are tight on his arse, and since taking his leather jacket off earlier, he has rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt making him drool worthy. His hair is a nice length again now, longer on top instead of the buzzcut makes him look younger again.

Alex doesn’t miss the way you look at him that time, and he doesn’t miss it half an hour later when he brings you your next drink up to the dancefloor. He catches your eye and raises the glass that you can tell is yours by the shape and you wave him over, and he makes his way over to you.

You’re borderline drunk now, but for you the night feels like it’s just getting going. Little do you realise that your friends are going to have to leave in a little over 45 minutes to get back to the kids.

Alex smiles as he stops in front of you, a little out of breath and sweaty from singing and dancing but he can’t help but think you look so vibrantly alive and full of the best type of energy. This is how he wishes he’d seen you all along, this is the side he wants to see more often of Katie’s shy and nervous best friend.

“For you.” Alex hands the drink over and you eagerly accept, needing something to soothe your throat.

You grin, and take a desperate sip before saying an appreciative, “Thank you.”

Alex’s eyes move back to the people dancing behind you and over to the other 3 girls who he sees are still dancing away but quickly become distracted by Nick and Jamie bringing them their drinks. But Alex looks into your eyes as he points out, “You look like you’re having fun.”

“I am,” You nod, and because your inhibitions are so much lower now than they were earlier, you ask over the loud music, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Course.” Alex nods, smiling at the mere fact you want to.

Stepping closer to him, your chests almost together, you lean up and say into his ear, “Do you actually want to fuck me?”

Alex smirks, but instead of teasing he just leans down and lets his lips brush your ear as he confirms, “I wouldn’t have put so much effort into flirting with you if I didn’t.”

Whilst he loves the small whine you let out, he can’t help but be a little amused yet concerned by the way you rub your temples. You move back a little and tell him, “You’re fucking with my head.”

Alex thinks you look a little stressed about it again like you did earlier, which is the last thing he wants. You’d got so close tonight that he was sure you were feeling the same way he was.

So Alex tries to reignite that flirtiness with you, he leans back in and says, “I’d rather give you head, if that’s any consolation.”

Your cheeks flame at the same time your heart skips a beat and your stomach drops. You didn’t realise how much you like the thought of Alex being the one to do that until it’s offered to you. And the fact he’d said it so bluntly, there was no way you could find a way to twist his words.

He wants to do that. Alex Turner wants to go down on you. And you’ve somehow got to survive the night after hearing that, you have no idea how.

“You- I-” Trying to tell him off is pointless, and giving a coherent answer is even worse, so you end up asking, “Is your aim to make me flustered every chance you get?”

Alex smirks, and instead of answering directly, he just tucks your hair behind your ear as he grins, “You’re cute when you go all stuttery.”

Again you can’t fathom any words, you’re left a little blindsided by the compliment so Alex takes over. He leans into your ear and says, “Would it help your decision if I told you that I want you to agree? That I want you to say yes.”

When he moves back to look at you, in his eyes you can see he means it, along with the lust that’s beginning to shine through too. Whilst it’s finally nice to actually know what’s going on in his head, it doesn’t make things any easier in yours.

“I-” You start but both you and Alex get interrupted.

“Guys, we’re off.” Kirsten shocks both you and Alex out of your conversation and you both turn to her and Nick who you hug goodbye.

Not 10 minutes after they leave, Kelly decides to call it a night which you don’t entirely blame her for because after the last shot you three girls had, she looked like she could fall asleep at any moment.

After getting her safely in a taxi, you and Katie come back up to find the boys and you see them now by one of the pillars with a table around it that isn’t too far from where you were dancing earlier. You do notice now just how busy the club has got, everyone dancing is like a sea of bodies, making it very easy for the singer and guitarist to maintain their anonymity.

Katie, being the loving wife that she is, kisses Jamie deeply after she takes her new glass of wine from him, making you avert your gaze from the couple and focus on the singer again. Alex smiles at you and holds out your new drink for you to take.

“Thank you.” You say loudly over the music and reach to take it from him.

“Ah,” Alex pulls it away from you before you can take it. Over the music, he says, “I have a question.”

“Go on.” You raise your eyebrows prompting him to continue.

Alex only smirks and leans down, resting a hand on your hip as his lips brush your ear and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

The feelings both the proximity to him and the question stirs up in you isn’t unwelcome. The opposite even, but you’re just so shocked he’s asked when your friends are right there.

Kissing like teenagers and definitely not paying attention to the two of you or not, you can’t believe he’s asked when you’re barely a metre away from them.

Not wanting to say no, you bargain with, “If you dance with me?” instead of giving him what he wants on a silver platter.

You’re going to make him work for it. You don’t just sleep with anyone for the sake of it.

But before Alex can even respond, Jamie gets his attention over the music and you see him put two fingers to his lips and simulated smoking.

“Shame,” You lean up to Alex’s ear as you say that. “Maybe later.” You smirk, patting his chest before you grab your drink from him, followed by catching your best friend's hand and pulling her back to the dancefloor with you.

But it’s only about 10 minutes later when you and her find the boys in the smoking area and you tell Jamie that you think she needs some air. Katie almost decked it twice whilst you were dancing and once on the way outside so you think it’s best for her to slow down a bit before they go home,

And when you look at the happy couple, you can’t help but think Jamie will probably be worse for wear tomorrow too. Thank god it’s a Friday night and you know none of you have anywhere to be tomorrow morning.

You’re giggling with Katie as she leans against her husband and the wall one minute, but it’s when you tune out of their slurred conversation you hear your favourite song being played and you think fuck it as you disappear back inside. Once the music is loud again and you’re back in the middle of at least a hundred sweaty bodies, you let yourself loose to the music.

Despite no longer having your best friend to grind against, you let yourself have some fun. Something that if sober you saw, she would probably cringe from the way you’re moving but all your inhibitions are gone. You’re moving freely to the music and you feel fantastic.

You’re unsure how long passes before you feel a large hand hold your waist and a body pressed up behind you. But you don’t panic like you normally would, you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being held.

It’s only half way through the new song that you even turn to look at who it is, and when you do you can’t help but smile and lean back into him when you see it’s Alex. At this point, he looks about as drunk as you, if not more but you don’t hesitate to let your hips move as they were with him now pressed up against you.

You would think you were throwing caution to the wind if it wasn’t for the fact you know your friends are nowhere in sight. Alex wouldn’t be this obvious about it if they were.

With the way you’ve just started grinding against him, Alex can’t think very clearly. You know exactly what you’re doing, teasing him by rubbing your arse against him where his dick keeps twitching for you.

You absolutely love the way the singer can’t keep his hands off you. If you weren’t as drunk as you are you’re sure that you’d be judging yourself right now but feeling him holding you against him and the way you can feel his lips on your neck you let all your inhibitions go. You feel the best you have in a long time and you don’t want to let that feeling go.

So when you’re encouraged to turn towards him you don’t hesitate. You carry on dancing though, putting your arms above your head as you carry on moving to the music, but then you grin at him as he pulls you into his chest and you let your arms fall on his shoulders.

It feels hot as the both of you continue to move against each other but you feel out of breath when Alex dips his head and he starts kissing just below your ear. Letting one hand fall to the side of his neck, you encourage him to continue, leaning your head in the opposite direction so he can carry on his teasing.

But there’s only so much you can take, you need more. So you pull back a bit so he moves and looks at you again, but as soon as you do you lean in and kiss him.

And this time it's like your body sets on fire, goosebumps erupt all over from the intensity of it and you want to savour every second of it. Alex pulls you into him, both his arms wrap tightly around your lower back so you can’t escape him, but you don’t want to. You want nothing more than his lips against your own now and for the rest of the night.

So much so that you don’t hesitate for a single second when Alex deepens the kiss. You welcome it in fact. It feels like its suddenly just the two of you, neither of you care that your surrounded by dozens of bodies, all you can think about is each other and how fucking good it feels to be pressed against each other.

You feel dizzy and breathless the more you kiss him which leads you to pull away for just a second, Alex stays close though and you can feel him smiling against your lips which has you doing the same. The haziness that the alcohol has made you so much more relaxed about it all, and you even find that you love the way your heart is beating out of your chest in reaction to all of it.

On the dancefloor, you kiss for a minute more until Alex ends up making you moan from the way his hand ends up sliding down and grabbing a handful of your arse. It’s at that point he pulls you away from the crowded floor and down what looks to be a corridor that leads to a staff room.

He stops you in the middle of the dark walkway but there’s enough light to see that you're grinning at each other as he backs you up into the wall and dips his head to kiss you again. It gets intense faster this time, as there’s no need to ease into it. Sparks are flying and you feel like you could combust at any second.

It feels instinctive this time and the way Alex holds you, his hand coming up to grab your jaw to make sure you don’t move from how he wants you is getting you more flustered than you were before.

When you need to part, you end up tuning in to your surroundings again, over the sound of your own heartbeat you can still hear the loud music playing in the other room and feel the bass vibrating through the wall you're pressed against. But that doesn’t mean you don’t love the way Alex is kissing your neck, his lips are so precise with what he’s doing that you can’t help but want him to continue.

However, that doesn’t mean the situation doesn’t make the anxiety spike in you once more. All of the thoughts about Katie and Jamie and the risk of them catching you or what the prospect of a night with Alex could mean come flooding back to your drunk mind, and it scares you enough to ask the man whose lips are still on your skin a question.

“If you take me home, will we talk in the morning?” You ask, revelling in the feeling of his lips on your neck. You close your eyes in complete bliss when you continue, “Or is this going to go weird for everyone involved?”

At this point you don’t really care for an answer though. You want him to keep going. You want his hands all over you. But you know that you’d regret not asking.

You feel dizzy kissing him, and you’re only sure that it's real when your eyes open for a split second where you make his face out. Lust is clear in his eyes as he attaches his lips back to yours and you can’t mute the moan that vibrates from your tongue to his.

“Promise it won’t be weird, sweet. I just want you so badly.” He almost groans before his lips attack yours again and that's enough for you for now.

You kiss him with no inhibitions on your end then, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, forcing him into keeping the kiss going. The thud of your heartbeat is the only thing you can hear and it makes you a little gutted that you don’t get to hear the moan that you drag from Alex’s lips, even if it was silenced against your own.

Feeling like a teenager in a club again is not something Alex has felt in a long time, so maybe that’s why he lets the both of you get a little too carried away. But he can’t stop himself, you’re just so enticing. If you would let him he would probably take you here and now after you start grinding your hips against his when his leg slips between yours to keep you pressed against the wall.

By the time you pull back from the kiss, you want more than just his hands on you though. You want more than just him kissing you, and that yet again brings back one last seed of doubt into your mind. And your nervousness makes you voice it.

Your breath is ragged when you pull back and express your last worry to him, “I don’t usually do this kind of thing, Alex.”

“That's okay,” Alex promises, kissing your lips hard again once more before pulling back to ask, “Are you up for just enjoying tonight and thinking about tomorrow when it arrives?”

“Or do you want to stop?” He cups your face and looks into your eyes to tell you sincerely, “We can stop if you want to.”

You can tell just by the way he’s looking at you that he’s serious. That he won’t pressure you if you don't want this, but that alone settles your worries. You trust him enough to know that he won’t be a dickhead if you let him take you home.

You shake your head, as that’s the last thing you want, “I don’t want to stop.” before you lean back up to kiss him again.

One kiss turns into two, and two turns into three and throughout all of them you can feel Alex’s smile against your lips. So there’s no surprise that he’s grinning when he pleads, “Then let me take you home, sweet.”

And this time, you don’t hesitate to say, “Okay.”

After that Alex books an uber, probably the fastest he ever has. But the both of you stay tucked away in your private spot, stealing kisses and making each other breathless until Alex gets the notification the taxi is only a minute away.

There’s an excited anticipation to how you both interact with each other on the way down to the taxi and the way you both rush to it is enough of a give away of that. But as you set off, it turns out that it’s a good thing you did both rush in because when Alex goes to put his phone on do not disturb he notices a missed call from Jamie and an unopened text.

Where have you gone? Is Y/N with you?

Alex decides to play with the truth a little in his reply. Nothing that would get either of you in the shit but the last thing he needs is you overthinking about Katie and Jamie when you were so clearly excited to be leaving with him.

Yeah sorry mate she was dancing and when we came down to find you and we assumed you’d gone because we couldn’t find you. In a taxi with her now.

You’re sitting in the middle seat, as Alex slid in the door you also entered in so you try and let your eyes focus on the words he’s typing one handed as the other runs up and down your thigh. He’s certainly the best tease you’ve encountered in a long while, and you’re focused solely on his touch and the way that once he’s done with the text he drops his phone to his lap and uses his free hand to tuck his finger under your jaw and angle you towards him so he could kiss you again.

It doesn’t get as intense as it did in the club, mostly your doing, for the sake of the driver. But Jamie doesn’t give either of you long anyway as Alex’s phone vibrates and lights up the back seats again

Thank god. Thanks for getting her home safe

Alex has never typed a reply faster.

No worries mate

And its then Alex flicks Do Not Disturb on, and he intends to have you as his sole focus for the rest of the night.

~*~*~*~

Katie was right, his orange settee is a complete and utter eyesore. And the fact that your head is a little fuzzy doesn’t help that too much, all you know is that one second you were stepping into his flat and looking around at his decor and the next your lips were on his again and you were being pressed up against the nearest wall.

It’s nothing that you don't want, because you do desperately want him now you’ve had the idea in your head all night. The more drinks you’ve had along with all the flirting has let your mind spin.

So much so that you moan when your back slams against the wall, and you eagerly respond to the way Alex kisses you. Your arms fly around his neck, keeping him close and with his hands grasping at your hips, it’s only a minute you’re like that because the next thing you know Alex has encouraged you to jump up and wrap your legs around his hips and he presses you into the wall again, this time his hands groping your arse as he kisses you harder.

There’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. It’s just pure desire that's fuelled by alcohol and how horny the two of you clearly are. Which is why a minute later Alex walks you to his settee and eases you both down onto it.

Both of you are sprawled out across his hideous couch and you’re underneath him responding to his kisses and his touches in a way that fuels him to pull more noises from your mouth.

You can’t even make his fucking face out, you’re mind is so drunk from both the alcohol and the kisses you’re receiving. You want them to endlessly continue, you feel so good about every little touch he leaves on you. Thankfully you don’t need to see his face, you just keep your eyes closed and kiss him back.

The way he’s grinding your hips into yours has you breathless and your mind is spinning even more. But it’s the feelings he’s stirring up inside you now that have you wanting more.

The way he holds under your knee with his free hand and he teasingly rocks his hips into you has you whimpering in pleasure and he fucking loves the way you sound. The way your legs tighten around his waist is enough for him to know you want this, but he continues to tease you anyway.

His lips travel down your neck and he loves the way you're encouraging him, giving him more room and cupping the back of his neck to keep him against you. Not to mention the way you whine when you want him to kiss you again, and when he finally gives in to you he can’t help but tease. He bites your lip and he loves the way your eyes roll back because of it.

After you force him into kissing you hard again, it’s only when you’re breathless that Alex pulls back. But when he sees you blissed out underneath him, he only wants to bring you more pleasure and he’s craving more now he has you where he’s been dying for you.

“Can I taste you?” Alex asks in a husky voice.

If you were sober, that question would have your cheeks heating up, eyes scrunched shut, and you putting your hands over your face in an effort to hide away. So it’s very lucky you’re drunk, you just look at him and nod, “Please.”

He kisses you again then, but this time you feel his hand that had a tight grip of your thigh has moved to slide up your skirt. The way his fingertips trace the inside of your thigh making its way higher you feel your heart start beating faster.

It all but stops beating for a second when he traces over your underwear and he groans when he already feels how wet you are. You think he’s about to tease you for it but he can’t help himself any longer, he moves the material to the side and before you can even process it, his fingers push inside you.

The way you whine and moan almost makes Alex smirk against your lips. He knew you’d make the sweetest sounds for him and he’s proven right when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers inside you.

Your grip on his hair is almost distracting. But it’s that along with your moans and the way he feels you clench around his fingers drives him on.

Alex doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the way your whole body seems to malfunction when his thumb starts to trace small circles on your clit. The noises you’re making are to die for and it has his dick growing harder with every second that passes.

He works you up, getting you breathless for him while you whine and moan beneath him. From the sounds you’re making he knows you’re getting close, and you have his dick twitching in his pants. But with the ache growing more intense but there’s no way he’s not making you cum at least once before he gets any pleasure himself.

However, to you it doesn’t seem like the case because one second your eyes are scrunched closed in bliss, and the next you’re whining and gasping disappointed because he’s not touching you anymore.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine, opening your eyes to see him smirking above you.

You’re about to ask why he’s being cruel and smirking at you but your complaints die on your tongue when you see him bring his fingers up to his mouth and he sucks on one of them. Your jaw falls and he makes you feel dizzy again when he groans in pleasure.

It makes you clench around nothing, aching for him even more. But your previous protest is lost in your mind as you try to commit this scene to memory. Alex however, answers your question without hesitation as he gives you his other finger that he’d yet to suck clean for you to do the job for him. And you do so without a complaint.

“Because you’re going to cum on my tongue first.” He tells you, loving seeing you desperate for him to do anything. Seeing you practically beg with your eyes is enough for him to carry on what he had planned.

He kisses you once he pulls his fingers away, and you can taste more of yourself on his lips. Before you even realise he’s kissing down your body and your breathlessly watching him descend. You shrill can’t really believe that this is how your night has turned out, but all anxieties tied with what this means have been thrown right out of the window. You’re loving every fucking second.

Your skirt might as well not be on at this point. He’s hitched it up enough that it's not even covering you anymore, and he moves himself further down the orange settee after hooking his fingers into your underwear and you lift your hips for him to pull them off. Alex has no shame in watching you and his eyes don’t even stray when he pockets the material.

He leaves hot kisses down your thigh before his head dips further and you feel him lick a bold strip up from your entrance to your clit. Your surprised moan makes him smirk but he can’t carry on teasing now he’s had his first taste, he buries his face into you and starts eating you out with little to no self control.

You encourage everything he’s doing with the moans that leave your mouth. His tongue showing your clit the attention it deserves has your hands rooting into his hair and tugging on it as encouragement.

The way he hums against you like he’s enjoying a meal makes you close your eyes, the vibration of it feeling too good. But when his mouth dips and his tongue is at your entrance and his nose rubs against your clit, you accidently rut against his face.

It makes him smirk but he doesn’t let up. Alex starts boldly fucking you with his tongue and he has to hold your hips down so he has you exactly where he wants you, in his control.

He can tell from the way you’re moaning to the way your legs begin to shake that you’re about to finish and it drives him on. Hearing you gasp his name and tug on his hair as he relentlessly fucks you with his tongue has him clouded by desire and he doesn’t let up for a single second.

It’s no surprise you orgasm in the next minute and he loves the way he makes your back arch off the settee as the pleasure takes over your body. It washes through your system in waves and he doesn’t let up until he feels you push him back slightly, clearly over-stimulated.

You’re gasping for breath when Alex moves backup, smirking as he says, “I knew you’d sound fucking amazing.” and he doesn’t hesitate for a second to kiss you properly again. It grounds you back to the moment and he makes your heart stutter all over again, you love kissing him, it’s certainly a fun way to pass the time.

As you’re getting off with him though, Alex presses himself back down between your legs. With him grinding against you, there’s no doubt he’s making a mess but the friction is so good on your over-stimulated self you don’t care, all you can do is release a few pleasured hums that he silences with his lips. But the singer can only take so much before he needs more.

Alex pulls away, feeling his dick throbbing in his pants, and asks, “Can I fuck you now?

“Yeah,” You nod, opening your eyes to plead, “Please.”

He leans down to press a long kiss to your lips before grinning, “Let’s go to my room then, sweet.”

The singer helps you up and on the short walk to his room there’s many a stolen kiss as you both begin shedding each other of clothes. Alex’s shirt was the first to go, you pushed it back over his shoulders and it hit his bedroom floor seconds after he closed the door.

Before it even hits the ground, Alex has managed to get your top off, and to be perfectly honest you’re glad to be rid of it now. He kisses you fiercely again as he undoes your bra, and he manages to find the zip of your skirt without pulling away and once that’s pooled by your feet, you’re left bare in front of him.

Something which Alex can’t stand an extra minute without taking a glimpse. When he pulls away he doesn’t shy away from looking at your body and it’s everything he’s dreamt of and more. He holds back a groan to tell you that, “You’re stunning.”

His gaze is too intense though. He didn’t even look you in your eye to tell you that, and it makes self consciousness slip back in. You begin to pick your arms up to at the very least cover your chest, but the singer catches you and stops you, “No,” He shakes his head, looking you in the eyes now, saying, “Don’t hide yourself away, you’re stunning.”

Somehow his hands manage to slip between your body and arms so when he pulls you back against him, you’re flush against his chest. He holds himself back from kissing you for just a second so he can swear, “I’m going to make you feel so good, I promise.”

Again, the way he says it and the look in his eye has you believing and trusting him. So much so that you’re the one that grabs his jaw and pulls him down into another kiss.

Making out with him becomes more than passionate again. It’s like something else takes over the both of you. It’s not pretty or sincere, it’s lustful and fierce and it sets your skin on fire. You end up on his bed, him purposely hovering over you so you’re getting no relief, but that at least meant you were able to unzip his trousers, but that has Alex reaching a whole new level of desperation.

“Turn over and get on your knees.” He instructs you, pushing himself back up off the bed as he quickly grabs himself a condom from his drawer.

You can feel yourself throbbing now, the ache between your legs getting more intense when you’re positioning yourself how he wants you. Thank fuck there’s alcohol stopping you from overthinking because there’s no way you could do this sober, the embarrassment would eat you alive.

The anticipation is killing you, and hearing his trousers fall to the ground, presumably his boxers along with it has you wanting to whimper. You can practically feel him behind you, and when you hear the condom wrapper tear and then Alex’s soft grunt as he rolls the latex on, it makes you clench around nothing again. You’re desperate now, your desire for him is getting out of hand.

“You sure you want this sweet?” Alex asks, pumping himself a couple of times as if he’s not painfully hard already.

“Please.” You beg him, whining a little in anticipation. It’s a little pathetic of you to admit but you can’t stop yourself from continuing, “I need you.”

You can practically hear his smirk, “Need me?”

“Yes.” You tell him, and so he doesn’t make you say again you just add, “Please.”

Something excites you at the fact you’ve not yet seen how big he is. You don’t know what to expect, all you have to go off is the way you felt him through his trousers and you don’t think you’re going to be disappointed.

Feeling his hand run down your spine, you expect him to gather your hair or something, seeming like the type to want to pull on it, but instead he eases your shoulders down so your chest is against the duvet and it's just your arse is in the air for him. Without another moment to leave you wondering, you feel him grab your hips one second and the next the tip of Alex’s cock nudges your entrance which makes you gasp. But it's when he pushes forward between your legs letting him graze your clit too that has you whining for more.

Alex smirks hearing you, absolutely loving that he is the one having you react like this. The it’s him who is the one making you this desperate. He’s wanted nothing more for months than to fuck you, and he lines himself up because can’t waste another second.

You moan loudly into his duvet as he enters you and fills you to the brim. The sensation is eye watering. He feels so good. You don’t know why you’d waited all night to get it, you should have accepted the offer before you ever left your house.

He’s so much bigger than you thought. It’s a lot to accommodate to after a long time without any action, but you don’t quite know how you’re going to survive it. You just try your best to take a few long deep breaths in hope that you’ll relax a bit more and Alex seems to notice because he asks, “You okay, sweet?”

“Yes.” You nod, but your voice comes out pathetically weak, so you repeat yourself saying louder, “Yeah.”

“Good.” Alex takes a nice firm grip of your hips then, and he tells you, “Let me hear them noises you make.”

He pulls out a little then and thrusts back into you making you want to whine against the bedding again. But you hold them in until you can’t anymore. He’s deliriously good, his actions, his rhythm, the way his fingers dig into your skin, it's all so much but you can’t get enough.

Once Alex finds his fast but steady pace, you can’t control any of your reactions. It’s too much for you to mute the gasps and whines he’s drawing from you and you must admit that you like that. You’re glad everything feels good enough that you don't have to fake anything. He pulls you against him with each thrust and it makes you whimper.

You're gripping the sheets so hard you feel like you could tear them. And you know his grip on your hips will no doubt leave a bruise or two, but he feels so fucking good you don’t care. The angle makes you feel him so deep and he’s hitting the right spot over and over again and it’s making you see stars.

You think you’re doing well at not being too vocal, mostly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how good he is after being so cocky earlier. But then he opens his mouth and all of that goes out the window.

“Good girl.” He praises, squeezing your hips as he pulls you back to meet him that bit harder. He can’t help but watch as he disappears inside you over and over, and he groans at the sight and the feel of you, “Taking me so well Y/N.”

Unable to stop yourself, you moan loudly at that. And the sound itself had Alex following with a long, pleasured, “Fuck.”

“Harder, please.” You beg, knowing that a bit more pressure will have you finishing again sooner rather than later.

Alex doesn’t hesitate for a second, he does exactly what he’s asked and forces himself against you with that bit more intent and it has you clawing at the sheets. The noise of your skin connecting along with both of your moans is pornographic and it turns the both of you on even more.

Your skin has the fine shine of sweat coating it now, another tell tale sign that you’re getting closer to your climax. And with the way he keeps talking you up there’s no doubt that you think you’ll get there.

You bring your fingers up to your clit needing your release now and you groan, loving the way it’s adding to your pleasure. Alex, however, catches on and you only feel the bliss it brings you for a few seconds before it’s stolen from you.

Instead, you feel Alex pull your hand away and he secures it behind your back, holding it in place with his hand on your wrist.

Immediately, you beg, “No please. I-“

But Alex interrupts you, “I’ll make you cum, sweet, don’t worry. But I’ll be the one who decides when.”

“Fuck,” You scrunch your eyes tightly, the ache in your lower stomach and your throbbing clit is almost too much, “Alex, please.”

He can tell you're getting close, so he tells you, “Hold it.”

But that makes you beg even more, “Please I-“ but that has Alex wanting to edge you. He slows his thrusts right down almost to the point where he stops, “No! Don’t slow down.”

The singer takes no pity on you though, instead he leans down so his chest is against your back, enough for him to be able to whisper in your ear, “Don’t be greedy, you've already cum once.”

“But I- please Alex.” You whine, needing your release. You were so close and the now gentle slow thrusts have made it dissipate.

You want it to be back like it was, but Alex has other ideas. As he picks himself back up he warns you, “Take it or we stop.”

That makes you worse. You have to bury your head into the duvet for the minute he slows down. He’s loving dragging it out and teasing you, committing every moment to memory and he revels in it.

The way you’re mewling below him has him grinning, and he continues thrust slowly into you, he can’t help but tease, “Sound so needy for me now Y/N.”

It’s what he wants. He wants you desperate for him. So much that you’ll be happy with whatever it is he does give you, and the mere fact he’d brought you close once he knows it will make your orgasm all the more intense.

When he feels you getting more desperate and trying to back up into him, he gives in and asks, “What do you need, sweet?”

With half your face pressed into the bedding, you just about manage to get out, “You to fuck me harder.”

Alex squeezes your wrist that bit tighter to get you to continue, “And?”

“Play with my clit.” You beg pathetically but the singer doesn’t hesitate for a second.

With his free hand, he slides his hand over your thigh, between your legs once more and he finds your clit with ease. “Like this?” Alex cockily asks for confirmation, as if you aren’t already yelling out for him.

The way he starts fucking you hard again, each thrust hitting you exactly where you need him and that combined with him teasing your clit has you gasping for breath, “Oh fuck.”

It’s almost immediately that you feel your orgasm building again, this time so much more intensely. You can’t help but call his name as he ploughs into you over and over, “Alex!”

Clawing at the duvet isn't even working now. You’re being fucked so good it has you succumbing to every little desire and he keeps praising and saying filthy things to you as well which adds to everything tenfold.

“Can’t believe just how soaked you are for me.” Alex praises as he carries on stimulating your clit, feeling how drenched the tops of your thighs are from everything as well. He groans when he says, “Half want you to cum on my tongue again.”

“No, please,” You plead. You’re almost there now, you can’t have him changing things up again. You genuinely think you would cry if he did. “You feel good.”

“So do you.” Alex breathes heavily, punctuating each word with a thrust.

The volume in the room gets louder as your skin gets hotter. You can’t handle much more, you know you're almost there now and when Alex lets go of your wrist that he was still holding behind you back, and he reaches forward to grab your hair, wrapping it around his fist and using that as his leverage to pull you back into him. It has your back arching and your loud moan filling his bedroom.

“That’s it, sweet, can feel you’re close.” Alex praises, wanting you to give in now, “Let go for me.”

It only takes a few more thrusts from him until you’re seeing white and ecstasy takes over. You clench around him and Alex finds it difficult to fuck you through it, you feel so damn good and the sound of you reaching your climax has the singer finding his seconds later.

You’re not sure how long passes until you come back around. All you know is that when you finally do, your mouth is dry, your muscles ache and Alex’s grip on you is loosening. When he pulls out you whine and Alex utters a small apology, but you can’t bring yourself to move anywhere, you only do so when he goes to his ensuite to get rid of the condom.

When Alex wonders back into his bedroom, you’re just lying flat on his bed, still on your stomach. Now you’re just further up the bed and have your head on a pillow. He doesn’t blame you for resting, the whole thing took it out of him so he can imagine how much you’re aching.

Both of you are still out of breath when Alex lies himself down beside you, only he’s on his back and you’re still on your front. He can see that you have your eyes closed which he doesn’t exactly blame you for after that, but he also doesn’t want to call it a night just yet. Now he’s got a taste of you, he wants more.

“Are you alright, sweet?” Alex asks after about 5 minutes of you both catching your breaths.

You hum confirming you are, letting your lips twitch up a little before blinking your eyes open properly. He looks stupidly good, hair a little unruly and sweaty but also a little flushed and

Alex smiles a little, “You had fun?”

Despite having the best time with him, that embarasses you enough to not be able to verbally answer him. Instead you just nod into the pillow and give him a little hum again and you let your eyes fall closed again.

Sweet, is all Alex can think of the sight in front of him. You’re beyond sweet, it's almost sickly, he’s not used to it at all but because it’s you and you’ve been spiralling around his head for months he lets himself indulge.

After another minute of silently watching you, he almost chuckles when he points out, “This is the most quiet you've ever been.”

“Get out of my house right now.” You mumble into the pillow your face is squished against.

Alex laughs a little then, which you only realise why when he chuckles, “We came back to my flat.”

You open your eyes and look at him and his room around you and realise that you’re at a point now you’ve never been at before.

This gets your heart racing a little, what the fuck are you meant to do now? Do you awkwardly get yourself up and dressed to leave? Does he want you to stay? Do you just go to sleep now? You more than likely could as that was a workout in itself but does he want you to stay? But are you even supposed to stay?

You’re fairly certain that if it’s a one night thing you’re meant to leave? Hell, you even think that to maintain the boundary of friends or whatever the two of you are, once the benefits have ended, you’re meant to say thanks and bye and head your separate ways.

As you’re mulling all of this over, slowly getting more anxious about it, Alex feels like he can see the cogs turning in your head. You’re definitely overthinking something, probably having a hundred worries at once, so Alex opens his mouth ready to tell you to stop, but before he gets there, you ask him a question.

“So…” You feel so awkward asking, but you’d rather be told straight now than fumble over the predicament later, “Is this the part where you say it was a mistake and tell me to get out then?”

Alex almost laughs but he stops himself, before he shakes his head and tells you, “This is the part where you stop over-thinking and you let me make you cum again.”

Your eyes go a little wide at that. “You can go again that fast?”

The singer can’t help but chuckle at that being your initial reaction. He fucking loves the fact it wasn’t a rejection or a look of distaste on your face, just one of shock and curiosity.

“Can’t get enough of you, sweet.” Alex grins as he rolls onto his side so he can easily brush your hair behind your ear, before cupping the back of your neck. He whispers, “Come here” as he leans down and kisses you again.

And it was as easy as that for him to encourage you to ride his cock. Something which after you both got off with each other again, you definitely wanted just as much as him. You’re sure he’s not human because he keeps finding and unlocking all of these different things that you enjoy about being in bed with someone and he keeps using them to his full advantage.

Not that you’re complaining. You absolutely love it. And you can’t get enough of the feeling of his cock inside you.

Riding him feels different, and not in a bad way at all. You can still feel him just as deep inside you but it’s just a little more precise with where you want him. And god does he feel good.

One thing about it pissed you off though. You do all the work in the position and he’s just lying there, yes his hands are tight on your hips and you know you’re doing well because he’s moaning and groaning every time you roll your hips but you want more. You want him the way he was just before.

“Tell me I’m good.” You instruct with a pout, slowing down your movements just a little to give him more encouragement to do so.

However, this has him smirking, raising an eyebrow at you, “Oh, you want to be praised do you?”

He just knew that with the way you get anxious about things, you would definitely have a praise kink. And he can’t lie, he’s glad. He wants to see your reactions to his filthy compliments. Unfortunately for him though, you don’t see the amusing side.

“Just fucking talk to me like you did before Alex,” You snap almost because you didn’t even want to ask and you don’t want to be embarassed for asking when he should just act how he did before, “It’s fucking shit when the other person is silent.”

“Okay sweet, calm down.” Alex wants to laugh but he knows you’ll lose your temper at him if he does, so he does as he’s told, “Come on then, show me how good you can be for me.”

It has your hips moving as they just were again and Alex lets every little sound out of his mouth to try and encourage you. But when you start bouncing on his cock more he can’t help but praise you, whether you instructed him to or not, “You take me so well Y/N/N.”

You whimper at that, because you really fucking are. He’s big and you can feel him stretching you open every time you move, but it’s so much better than the last sexual experience you had however long ago now. You want exactly what he made you feel earlier and that only makes the urge you to carry on even stronger.

Alex can’t help but love the way you’re clawing at his lower stomach as you use him as leverage to move. You look so fucking good bouncing on his cock, your tits moving in time with you and the way your jaw falls open each time you bottom out on his has the singer wanting to bite on your swollen, wet lips even harder.

“Look at you go.” Alex grins, enjoying the feeling and sight of all at once, it makes it even harder to not burst into the condom there and then. He groans as he watches you roll and grind your hips on him before picking yourself back up and slamming your hips down again to meet his. “Riding me so good,” Alex groans loudly before adding, “Like you’ve been doing it for years.”

The praise almost makes shivers run down your spine, going directly to your core making you clench around him as you continue. His words light a familiar fire in you that's been dormant for a long time, to do better, to make him feel good - you’re certain you can get more out of him. Using your pelvic floor to your advantage, you clench tightly around him, making his eyes go wide and his grip tighten on your hips.

All you want is for him to think about you. You want to be good for him after he’s been so good to you, giving you two orgasms already. But you need to make sure you’re not easily forgettable, you want him to continue wanting you how he seemed to want you in the club. You want him to beg for you to be like this.

You love having him beneath you, entirely at your mercy with you controlling how it goes. The pleasure is too good to want to stop but you’re sure if you did you would hear pretty pleas and groans come from those swollen lips of his, begging for you to carry on. You haven’t felt this good in a long time, you’re soaking up the way the praise fuels your ego and makes you so much more confident.

This is how you want him to see you, not a nervous wreck every time he chats to you. If this is just for one night, you want him to remember you as the woman who made him lose his mind with want. The woman who gave him a good show that he will be thinking about for months and every time he sees you again.

The way Alex’s jaw drops and the groans he lets out as you ride him confidently makes you get into it more. You’re getting off at the sight and sound of him getting pleasure from you and it only makes you more sure of yourself. Especially when he starts losing his words over you.

“Oh fuck- sweet,” Alex groans loudly and breathlessly, “Fucking hell- fuck Y/N.”

Hearing him say your name like that, all whiney and desperate, feels like something you should be allowed to listen to on repeat in times of need just like this. You would love to see him like this all the time.

Rolling your hips with even more intent, you clench around him that bit tighter, enough for Alex to gasp and dig his nails into your skin, “Trying to make me cum, aren’t you?” He asks breathlessly, and when you just smirk down at him that bit breathless yourself, he can’t help but buck his hips up into yours as he tells you, “You feel so good Y/N/N.”

It goes on for another few minutes, Alex entirely spellbound watching you bounce on his cock, your tits almost begging to have his mouth on them as you tease them yourself, but he can only focus on clawing at your thighs and hips to make sure he doesn’t finish before you do. You’re worked up, Alex could see every single stage it progressed and how you got more confident in yourself when he started praising you, and he won’t stop, he just knows you’re growing tired.

“You getting tired, sweet?” Alex asks, not patronisingly at all, he just wants you to be honest.

You nod defeatedly, clearly not wanting to admit it even to yourself but definitely not to him. If he hadn’t already given you two orgasms, you’d have no trouble getting him and yourself off like this, but he’s made your legs weak one too many times already. There's only so much you can do and Alex knows you’ve definitely been trying to focus on his pleasure more than your own. So Alex decides to change that.

“Get yourself off, don’t worry about me. Focus on you.” Alex tells you as he grabs your hips, his thumbs pressing into where your hip meets your thigh, and pulls them down to solely grind against his own.

Your jaw falls open when he helps pull your hips forwards and your clit gets the attention it deserves. You close your eyes and moan at the sweet friction and the pleasure it builds inside you and lean forward even more, your hands resting over his heart to keep yourself up now and you can faintly feel the rhythmic beat under your palms.

“Just like that,” Alex smiles, his hands grasping your hips tightly to encourage you even more, “Good girl.”

You rock your hips against his over and over so your clit constantly hits his pubic bone and your jaw keeps dropping from the sheer intensity the pleasure is building with. White heat begins to pool at the bottom of your stomach and it grows with each passing second. You want more though, you need more of the man beneath you, so you put him to work.

Picking one of your hands up off his chest, you grab his wrist and demand, “Give me your hand.”

Alex doesn’t hesitate to let go of your hip and let you have control of him for a second, he must admit he’s a little curious what you were after. Surprise is not something the singer experiences often anymore, but when you move his hand up to wrap around your throat, Alex almost loses his composure because he’s so shocked.

“Oh,” The ‘fuck’ that Alex wanted to say he keeps to himself, and instead he teases, “You're not as innocent as you make out to be, sweet.”

Your eyes are dark as you backchat, “Never claimed I was anywhere near.”

It makes Alex tighten his grip on your neck, enough to have you moan and he feels the vibrations of it beneath his palm. It only spurs you on, grinding your hips against his with even more intent and it gets you so worked up you end up moaning loudly with every movement of your hips.

Alex fucking loves watching you get off and it’s him that’s the cause of your pleasure. He can feel you clenching and throbbing around him so he knows you’re getting closer to your high, and despite not feeling direct pleasure from you grinding your hips into him, the sight of you getting yourself off with his hand wrapped around your throat and you rutting against him could make him cum any second. You’re so fucking hot, it takes everything he has not to flip you over and fuck you until he’d be certain you couldn’t walk tomorrow.

Despite loving your pornographic cries, Alex moves his hand from around your neck and he traces your lips with his thumb before demanding, “Suck it, sweet.”

You do as you’re told, parting your lips and dipping your head so you take his thumb into your mouth and you suck on it. He presses down on your tongue enough to have your moans muted and he smirks when he teases, “Gotta keep that mouth of yours occupied so you don’t wake the neighbours.”

In another moment, you probably would have wanted to curl up into a ball and die at the thought of anyone but him hearing you and you probably would have scorned him for making you paranoid about it. But before your brain could even get there, the singer fucks up into you causing you to release long pleasure filled whines.

It goes on for another minute, and Alex knows you’re getting close, he can feel it and he can see the way the ecstasy inducing actions have you looking almost drunk. He’s going to make you cum a third time, and he’s very aware of it.

“You close?” He asks, not even needing a response because he knows you are.

Despite that, you nod confirming it for him, and he knows your answer before he even asks, “Need me to fuck you hard again, sweet?”

You whine and pull away from his thumb to say, “Please.”

“I got you, Y/N/N.” Alex promises as he lets his thumb trace your swollen lips before he drops his hand so his thumb can tease your clit.

“Shit Alex.” You gasp, needing that direct stimulation even more and it has you trying to bounce on his cock again.

You’re whiny and begging with everything you have other than your voice but you can’t stop, you’re so close, you just need that little bit more. You grab his wrist so he has to continue but your legs fail you miserably. You look to the man below you, those lust filled brown eyes meeting yours and you barely even have a chance to get out, “Al, please.” before he’s on the case.

In a swift movement, he rolls the both of you over, so your back is on the bed and he’s hovering above you. He quickly kisses you, just a quick intense one before pulling away, biting your lip as he does, and he asks, “You gunna cum on my cock, sweet?”

Nodding, you beg, “Please.”

Your nails are already digging into his shoulder blades and he feels them scratch down his back when he starts fucking into you with no remorse. His hips hit yours over and over and it makes pleasure burn through you. It’s constant, steady, endless and you only stay grounded when your fingers root through his hair and grasp it tightly when he kisses your neck.

His lips stay there, barely breaking contact from your skin even when he continues to praise you and tell you just how good you’re doing for him. But you lose your mind when he trails his hand down to your thigh and grabs it and pushes it higher, so he can fuck you deeper. It makes your world stop.

You don’t know what words fall from your lips as your orgasm finally hits you. All you know is that you’re loud and your body feels like it’s been electrified. White heat shoots through you and your nails scratch their way down his back and your other hand pulls harshly on his hair.

Alex is certain he’ll never forget the moment he made you cum for the third time. The way you scream his name, clench around him, and your nails dig into his skin is something he’ll remember forever. He’s obsessed with the way you lose yourself entirely, and after fucking into you a few more times he finishes himself and it’s the sweetest relief Alex thinks he’s maybe ever experienced.

The singer lifts his head, and you see that he looks all fucked out above you, and you’re certain you look the same. Alex can’t help but think you look so fucking stunning, all distant and dizzy and he will certainly take pride that he is the reason you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure. He’s so glad you agreed he could take you home.

Oh, what a night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

A/N: Well then... Really hope you enjoyed part 2! Let me know what you fancy seeing happen in part 3, I have ideas but I'm curious where you all reading want it to go! Please let me know what you thought of this part, and I will get on with writing part 3 for you. Whilst you wait, please check out another AMAZING Alex fic called Constant Repeat by @alovesreading you’ll love it I have no doubt! And thank you again for reading x

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[kastelixa]

Instead of posting pointless callouts, use your brains.

tldr: some of yall need to learn what a fucking block button is

Genuinely what is so hard about pressing the block button? Like omg I promise no one cares about your fuckass callout posts or rants. Like some of these people are embarrassing as hell. If you get triggered by shit on the internet, it’s YOUR decision on wether or not you want to interact or block and move on with your life. Like brother, i’m not going to throw a fit and freak out over some post that just so happened to contain weird shit on it. You know what I do? I MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE. Because I got better shit to worry about than some random ass fic on tumblr.

You like ddlg? Cool. Doesn’t hurt me or anyone, I don’t care. You like incest? Good for you! You like noncon? Okay! Like do y’all see how easy it is to just smile and nod? Trust, policing what people post and enjoy, is not going to change shit. It’s just annoying as fuck. People pick and choose, because some of the shit you all consume wouldn’t be considered normal either, going by what you all say.

According to all of your logic, blood kinks, knife kinks, gun kinks, piss kinks, and etc. should not be normalized either. Murder shouldn’t be written about, especially gore. Which is fucking moronic, considering how RE is built on violence and gore. Please, learn how to separate fiction from reality.

Many people are fans of iconic slasher films and horror movies. Michael Myers is a rapist and a murderer. But guess what? No one CARES! Because he’s not REAL. I could go on with so much more examples, but you should get the point by now. Hopefully. Dark content is everywhere, why is it now that it’s weird? Makes no fucking sense.

I get that some of you don’t want your precious white boy’s image to be tainted or defamed or whatever, but trust, Leon Kennedy is not reading these fics nor would he care. ‘He’s not a rapist or into incest!’, well he also wouldn’t call you ‘sweetheart’ or whatever cheesy bs fluff fics contain nowadays. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? It’s all OOC. We KNOW he’s not a horrible person or an incredibly affectionate lover, but people write whatever they want. And no one’s going to stop them! Not the posts clogging up the tags or the weird asks.

There’s so much more, but the main arguments that keep being repeated are ‘it’s weird’ and ‘if you write about it, you’re probably going to do it in real life’. That take is so fucking stupid I can’t help but laugh. Same bs as white moms claiming their son is going to shoot some place out just because he plays violent video games. The whole point? SEPARATE FICTION FROM REALITY. And if you don’t like something? IGNORE IT? Why are you willingly engaging like omg are you stupid or dumb.

OH AND. ‘kids could see this!’ When will you all learn that no matter what you do, you cannot control what a person sees or decides to interact with. Especially minors. I’m willing to bet half of a smut writers followers are minors. Guess what? People lie all the time, about their ages and whatever else. It’s the fucking internet, of course they do. It’s not the responsibility of the blog owner to take care of children. The most they could do is plaster a big fat MDNI on their blog, that’s it. It’s the job of the parents to control what their kid watches or consumes, and we can’t exactly help with that. So don’t pretend to gaf about minors like omg.

Anyways. I’m too lazy to continue writing like I just needed to say this because some of you are slow. Me and many others are going to continue to write whatever the fuck we want. In conclusion? Block if you don’t like it LMAO. I don’t care about what some rando has to say on the internet.

[badgyalshii]

WANNA TRY IT WITH ME?

word count: 3.1k?

warnings! smut, maybe some typos, oral (f) and missionary, overstimulation, some dirty talk.

pairing! only fans!timothee chalamet x (f) friend!reader (ALWAYS SAFE FOR POC + PLUS SIZE)

a/n: hereee goes my long awaited apology for the finale of its never over🙄 i hope you guys enjoy! two hands on the phone please😏 the “xxx” is a divider btw i just got lazy lmao TELL ME IF IT SERVES CUNTTTT (requests are open)

have you read the series? check it out!

like shii’s writing!? check out her masterlist for her future imagines/series! (that needs to be updated, come on shii wtf r u doing😒)

It was no secret that timothee owned a onlyfans, he didnt really talk about it though. He didnt want it to be the main conversation between him and his friends, he kept the subjects separated but he was very close with his fans. You said you would always support what he does and even registered for an account to follow him, he tried to fight it and block you from his page, but you said it wasnt really that big of a deal considering you would never open the app and just to let you love him, to which he sighed and let it go, but convsersations were awkward because in the back of his mind he didnt know and was wondering you ever watched his videos. It was only a side gig, but he wanted to focus on college and small acting.

One day, you decided to initiate the conversation with timmy while you both ate chinese. ¨i just felt like if i talked to you about it then it would be hard for you to separate me from being a normal sensitive person from being ya know….that¨ he explained, you shrugged. ¨i mean, i wouldnt look at you differently- not that ive watched but i know you, and how could i judge such a sweet person like you? The only thing that i would have questions about is, like, is it awkward? On camera? Im not even comfortable with myself so put myself on camera and do that-¨ ¨if you dont like yourself, trust their is someone to appreciates you like ten times more than you do on a good day. Theres no reason for you to feel like that¨ he said looking over before eating the rice with a fork. You let out a hum and things fell silent as you both watched a movie, but it was clear you both were thinking. ¨would- would you like…¨ he looked over at you, your eyebrows lifted as you looked at him, he seemed nervous as his cheeks were slowly turning rosy, he cleared his throat before finishing his question. ¨like try it?¨ he asked, ¨erm¨ you said before thinking to yourself, ¨maybe with someone i trust, could be fun¨ you smiled before asking for the rice, taking a forkfull bite off of the same utensil that timmy used. He shrugged, becoming more comfortable, seeing as you were rather chill about the situation, it was a joke to him, what he was about to say, but the tone that came out otherwise said different.

¨wanna try it with me?¨ your eyes widened in surprise, to which he laughed, ¨joking, im joking¨ he let out with a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, his face was visibly warm now, a big grin on his face trying to fight off the fact that he said that. You chewed and swallowed your rice carefully, not saying a word and looking at him while he looked at you, itching and waiting for your response. You shrugged, ¨fuck it¨ your stomach was doing flips, what were you saying? Are you fucking serious? You thought after you said that, your eyebrows high and a side smile on your lips. His mouth parted, ¨when-when would you wanna do it?¨ he asked, ¨its your page, shouldnt you make the rules?¨ you muttered, setting down the rice. ¨tommorow maybe?¨ he let out, watching you get up, you said yeah and said you had to use the bathroom.

When you made it to the bathroom you looked at yourself in the mirror before letting out a sigh and putting a hand on your face is disbelief, what had you singed yourself up for? Why were you just talking? Were you just talking? It was clear that you both were very attractive, so imagine what people think. Your shared friends already think you guys have something casual going on, so would they really be surprised if you both busted out with a cake saying ¨we did it! We fucked! (and recorded)¨? You bit your lip before running the water and washing your hands, before exiting out of the bathroom and sitting next to timothee again.

XXX

You both shyd away about the idea even if it was just the next day, but here we are. You sat ontop of timothees bed, fully clothed and your hair out of the way. You bit your lip, you were anxious, you didnt know how to feel about this, how would others take it? What if they didnt like you? What if you didnt like it. Timothee sat infront of you the entire time, telling you that it was okay if you didnt want to do it and reassuring you the entire time and double checking in with you. As nervous as you were, there was a small burst of excitement that jumped in your stomach.

He bit his lip, ¨you ready?¨ he asked, holding up the camera, about to record you. On the nightstand sat a white viberator, body oil, and lube just incase. He raised three fingers behind the camera, initiating a count down, he very soon pressed the record button, you saw the red small light from the camera flicker. A smile played on your lips from awkwardness but you tried your best to cover it up. ¨this is y/n. One of my closest friends who wanted to join us today¨ he chuckled, ëyes on the screen as he looked through the camera to see you. ¨but ill let her introduce herself¨ he finished, your eyes widened, you didnt know what to do. ¨im nervous¨ you let out with a pity smile and you both let out a laugh, ¨just get undressed while you introduce yourself¨ he let out a small grunt as he watched you immediately catch on and start pulling up your top.he bit his lip, he couldnt deny you looked fucking great, the way your breasts were laid pretty in that bra and how your hips sat with the hidden treasures just waiting to be touched. You watched as he slowly palmed himself and continued to record. You decided this was the right time to speak up.

¨my name is y/n, but timothee told you that¨ you laughed as you stripped your shirt off, muffled music played in the back but you both werent too focused on that, you wore a matching set for the circumstance, and when your bra was revealed he let out a muttered fuck and applied more pressure to his clothed cock. T̈his is my first time¨ you continued, looking over at the oil before reaching over, your ass in the air as you reached for it he let out a sigh, and watched as your back arched and when you came back at sat correctly, he lended his hand out, ¨i wanna do that¨ he said, and you complied, handing him the oil, he let out a small groan, he was as hard as a rock and youve barely even started, he had no shirt on but he had his grey sweatpants, he took the camera and set it up on its stand on the end of the bed.

When he looked back at you, you sat there innocently, you sat on the back of your calves, legs closed and looking up at him so lost, it turned him on that he could take control and lead you. He softly grabbed your neck and pulled you in for a slowly soft to passionate open mouth kiss, pulling your head towards himself before letting you go and moving behind you, his warm touch on your arms, following all the way up to your neck and you tilted your head back on his shoulder as he now kissed your neck and uncuffed your bra. ¨shittttt¨ he muttered, looking at your tits and taking them into his hands, to which they fit perfectly, your nipple between his first and middle finger, rolling them around as soft sighs of pleasure left your lips, he looked at you the entire time before applying a kiss to your cheek, then your lips. You closed your eyes and let him lead you, you felt like you were falling in his arms and allowed him to take you anywhere, you swore this is what you needed, you almost forgot the camera was even there. He put his hand on your waist before he reached for the oil and while he did that, you stripped yourself from your shorts, revealing your matching thong before getting back into pisition and you looked at the camera, thinking you should be more seductive, you looked at it and let out a moan as the warm oil hit your body, he rubbed it over your chest, your stomach, his touch was gentle the entire time, ¨can you bend over infront of the camera for me?¨ he asked gently, you looked at him and nodded, your ass was pointed to the camera and he moved behind you and to the side, his eyebrows raised as you arched as your already glistening cunt was soaking the thin material of the thong, he applied oil over your ass and rubbed it in before his hands crawled up to the sides of your thong, ¨is it okay if i pull this down?¨ he asked, you nodded and he looked at you before dropping your panties, he let out a sigh of satifacation and rubbed over your entrance, you let out a hum and arched your back further before he plunged a finger into your soaking wet cunt, your mouth dropped as he slowly fingered you, he watched as your walls tighten around his fingers, his mouth dropped and he couldnt wait to put his dick inside.

He lifted up your ass as he started to apply pressure and finger harder, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked back at him. ¨like that?¨ he asked as he continued to finger, you bit your lip and nodded your head, your hips moved back into his hand as a small smirk played on his face before he stripped his fingers away, you let out a whine, wanting him to keep going before he surprised you and applied his tongue to your clit, your mouth dropped, his tongue was circling and you let out a moan.

¨timmy” left your lips, fuck. Is this what you were missing out on? Your stomach has butterflies as you leaned back wanting more, he let out a chuckle against your lips in cockiness seeing as you were enjoying this. He shook his head against your pussy and you moaned his name again. ¨dont stop, make me cum timmy¨ he let out another hum against your pearl before pulling away with a pop. ¨make you cum? Want me to make you cum baby?¨ he asked, pumping his fingers.

You looked back at him and seen your juices covering his lips, you could finish just now, looking at his low eyes, looking at him made it seem like he was clouded with ecstasy. He licked his lips and you nodded, letting out a soft please. He kissed your ass before getting on his knees and pulsing into your pussy harder, your eyebrows furrow as you close your eyes, opened mouth gasps and a deep moan just rips away from your lips, fuck, you couldnt take it. And the way timothee looked at you didnt help, ¨shit¨ he muttered, taking his thumb and rubbing your pearl in complete circles. Your mouth hung low as your belly started to heat up, you could feel yourself about to explode. You let out a whine and he bit his lower lip, ¨look at me, look at me while i make you cum¨ he circled faster, you looked at him desperate, desperate to finish.

And suddenly you did, ¨timmy!¨ you let out, your eyes rolling and the way he tried to ride your high out was overstimulating for you so you jerked your body from his fingers, to which he laughed at. ¨shut up¨ you laughed, putting your heand in your hands as your stomach continued to burn from the release. ¨you okay?¨ he asked again, you nodded yes and it was okay and that you were ready for the next round, he smiled at you, and you smiled back, before something else caught your attention. He was clearly breathing heavier and as you shamelessly panned his body, and something else was clearly looking at you.

He didnt try to hide it, instead, he grabbed it while he looked at you, ¨missionary? Or?¨ he asked. You shrugged in return, you liked that he mentioned missionary first, “is that a good angle?” you asked, “any shot with you in it is a good angle, y/n” he said, stripping from his sweats and boxers before coming over to press a kiss on your lips. Once again, the kiss became heated, he leaded you to lay on your back while your lips were still together. He came down and laid firm on you, pressing up against your bare pussy. You held onto his curls as his soft lips were on yours, his tongue entered your mouth, shamelessly clashing against yours, your teeth. It was so hot, he pumped himself before pressing up against your entrance. He rubbed his dick messily against your clit, looking at you jutter under his touch, he kissed your head before he entered slowly, a soft sigh left your lips as you made eye contact with him, watching his eyebrows press together from the easy slip in, to the tight satisfying feeling of your pussy wrapped around his hard throbbing dick. He looked at you for approval, and you nodded.

“y/n, fuck you feel good” he muttered, his mouth opening as you opened your legs further, wanting more. A throaty moan left your mouth as you leaned up on your elbows to watch him fuck you, his dick hit your spot everytime and he only moved faster. “Timmy, keep going” you moaned, your head tilting back from the euphoria. He reached up and grabbed your tit, massaging it as he continued to let out moans, “fuck, like that? You like that?” he muttered, now focusing and putting his hands on both sides of your head. He rocked his hips thorough, his mouth agape and low groans ripping away as the headboard of the bed clashed against the wall time and time again.

“yes! mmph-“ you were cut off by how deep his dick was inside you and how your sensitive nipples tickled in his touch, the way he looked so focused and lost in the moment only made you more wet, you tilted your head back and let out a cry, he was hitting the same spot over again and fucking you harder, you felt your walls clench desperately and that only motivated him more. “timmy!” you whine, putting your hand on his stomach and closing your legs around him, the sound of skin on skin became more relevant as he didnt stop, “i got you” he let out in a breathy, low and seductive tone.

he slapped your hand out of the way before taking it and your other and placing them ontop of the pillow, holding your hands by the wrist as he came down and kissed your sweet spot, “oh my- mmm!” a high pitched hum broke and tried to hide your neck, this was all so overpowering and it felt so good, “where do you want me to cum, y/n” he whispered in your ear, “fuck!” he closed his eyes and his hips rutted slowly, still having powerful strokes, “inside” you let out, he looks up at you before letting out a laugh, “are you crazy? you’re gonna get pregnant- shit” the pleasure took over, canceling his sentence.

“i wont” you shook your head, fuck thats all you wanted, for him to fill you up, give himself to you fully. he looks at you and presses a kiss to your lips before letting out an okay, he takes one of his hands off of your wrists to come down and rub your clit, but it was difficult considering how wet you were. your body was overstimulated and tried to fight his hand off by moving your hips, but when you moved them it just made him go deeper, past your spot, you froze in that position, your body shocked as he hit a point you didnt know anyone could. “fuck! dont stop!” you scream in a whiney tone, keeping your hips where they were. “cum for me” he said, his jaw clenching as he looked at you with all seriousness, “take it, take it from me make me cum!” you cry, his hand moved faster against your clit and more rough groans left his lips, your mouth suddenly became agape and he looked at you, your eyes pouring into his as you came. “timmy, im, im cumming” your eyebrows furrowed, it felt like the world stopped, your body jerked and released all the knots in your stomach. he came down and you both shared and open mouthed sloppy kiss, he bit his lip and and looked down at you, fucked you harder and the bed creaking and the camera was so close to flipping over.

“mmm” his lips pursed together, fucking you faster now, “timmy!” you cried again, before his mouth dropped, a whiney moan left him lips “y/n, y/n, aw, fuckkk y/n” he said over and over again, feeling his seed shoot up in your stomach as he looked at you, both eyes were desperate for each other, so hazed in the stars. he let you go and your arms went under his, holding him as he let out “uhs” as he finished cumming inside you, and making sure you got all of it as he messily rutted his hips until failure. your back came off the matress as you accepted the cum shooting up your pussy as your chest uncontrollably heaves.

his head falls into the deep of your neck, still breathing heavy but applied kisses there. Once he catches his breath, he sits back up and pulls out, a curse leaving your lips as he grabbed the camera and pointed it at you, you looked at him behind the camera, he was still breathing heavy and he reached his hand to your lips, his thumb brushing over them before you took it into your mouth and sucked, a smirk and a small chuckle left his lips before he took out his thumb and traced it along your body, you were covered in sweat, your body glistening heavenly, or at least he thought so. the camera following, all the way down until he zoomed in on your fucked out area, seeinng the cum slowly leaking from your hole and your clit visibly swollen. he separates your folds from each other, “man i could really eat you out again” he joked.

[jwirecs]

RECOMMENDED NCT FICS OF AUGUST 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my nct recs of august! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Drunk In You || @hyuckiefluff💕✅

↳ was Mark Lee’s new haircut really the drop that would tip the glass over and make you spill how you really feel about him?… Well, the haircut and also the alcohol.

Flustered || @daydreamingyuta💕✅💯

↳ Prompt: 17 “Please help me pick out an outfit.”

Listen To Me || @daydreamingyuta💕✅

↳ Prompts: #1 “I couldn’t be more in love with you.” and #11 “It’s two in the morning, why are you here?”

Live A Little || @writemekpop💕✅

↳ You knew that a holiday with your best friend Ten would be wild… you just didn’t expect to fall in love with him.

It's Raining, It's Pouring || @elix8r🔞💔✅💯

↳ Hating Mark could almost be considered your part-time job ever since Taeyong adopted him. But on one fateful night, a raging storm strikes, and with Taeyong nowhere to be found, you find yourself seeking an unlikely source of comfort - your annoying cheetah roommate.

Sorry, Who Is Mark Lee? || @dropsofletters💕💔✅

↳ she swore up and down on the night of her graduation as a doctor that she would never work with dr. mark lee. not under any setting. after all, she’s not here for people who get everything served on a silver platter just for being…nice? however, years after their graduation, mark comes back into her life not brushing his hair and talking about a new project that they are supposedly going to be working on for the next three weeks, and all hopes of not working with him die down when she realizes…maybe, she had not truly known who he was. sorry, but who the hell is mark lee?

Anon Request || @yeow6n💕✅💯💯

↳ Anon Req: have you seen the tiktok of a girl who made her boyfriend a little sprout to put on his gaming headset ??? its so cute and reminded me of hyuck 🤏🏻

Concert Tickets || @onyourhyuck💕✅💯

↳ Your boyfriend Donghyuck is a massive Bruno Mar’s fan, so you bought two concert tickets.

I'd Give Up Forever To Touch You || @martiniblues💕✅

↳ while mark is away on tour, you find yourself looking back at old memories of you two. you have grown used to spending these moments alone while mark is gone, but little do you know he is doing the same thing miles and miles away.

Love On Me || @neocitybooty🔞✅

↳ You have to choose between fulfilling the needs of your lovable boyfriend or finishing your work for the day. 

Stolen Kisses || @writemekpop🔞💕✅

↳ Sneaking off to have sex is tough with a kid in the house.

Surprise Visit || @mingyuonthemoon🔞💕✅

↳ mark pays you a surprise visit after not seeing each other for awhile

Taking Care Of My Baby || @onyourhyuck💕✅

↳ Your boyfriend Jaemin takes care of you while you’re bed ridden with a fever flu.

Two Makes A Team || @sxcret-garden🔞💕✅

↳ When both your boyfriends distract you by asking you for kisses, one thing leads to another and what you had planned to be some alone time with a good book turns into something even better…

Where Were You || @onyourhyuck🔞💕💔✅

↳ Your sweet loving boyfriend is always by your side during your bad days. What if one day, he can't be there for one of your worst?

Your Red Lipstick || @ihaechans💕✅

↳ Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.

Worth A Lie || @ruwriteshour💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ Always wallowing yourself in self-pity, you start to doubt yourself and you think it's time to end your relationship with Mark with a lie. He'll have no choice but to move on from you. It will work... right?

His Karma || @onyourhyuck🔞💕💔🔄

↳ (no summary, but really do give this one a read!)

Adult Time || @nctsplug02🔞💕✅

↳ Anon Req: hihi i'm not sure if requests are open but can you write more of milf reader with jaemin + sungchan as the kids? ♡

Bruises and Ballet Shoes || @luvyeni🔞💕✅💯

↳ jeno gets into a fight and almost misses your preformance

Close The Door Behind You || @jadeobvi🔞✅

↳ Jeno is your strict older brother who has banded Jaemin from dating you, let alone looking at you. But one night you both can’t take it anymore. All the tension has finally exploded, but you have to be careful. God forbid Jeno hears.

Fever Pitch || @nctsworld🔞💕✅💯💯💯

↳ your world is shaken up (literally) when you meet the handsome man guilty of the accidental baseball smack to your head. after a comforting meet-cute and realization that he’s the city’s ace pitcher, you two go on a date. and by the end of the night, mark thinks he’s falling for you faster than any pitch he’s thrown before.

Forget Me Too || @yutaholic🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ Back home after years away, you just want to fulfill your obligations as your best friend’s maid of honor and split. You don’t want to see Johnny, though you are guaranteed to run into him at some point. You broke his heart not too long ago and the last thing he ever said to you was that he hated you. And you don’t blame him.

New Religion || @suhnnyupsidedown🔞✅💯💯

↳ something along the lines of Taeyong being a married professor and him ending up sleeping with one of his students? who also happens to be sleeping with Johnny?

Racer || @smileysuh🔞💕✅💯

↳ You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car. Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

Sin & Obsession || @onyourhyuck🔞✅💯 (pt 2)

↳ You’re a faithful good girl. You attend church and you stay out of trouble. Mark is a guy that attends your church and what you don’t know is that he’s been obsessed with you for a while…

Two For One || @goldyeokki🔞💕✅

↳ you come home after a long day to your two boyfriends in skimpy maid outfits. while they fussed over you, you had completely forgotten that it was your birthday. good thing that they had something special prepared for you on your day.

Volleyball For Dummies (In Love Edition) || @jaeminvore💕✅

↳ Mark Lee has been called many things. Dedicated was one of them and that dedication lead him into joining NeoTech College's well coveted Women's Volleyball team, the NeoTech Tigers, as their manager in hopes of winning the infamous setter, Y/N's heart. But there was one problem, being academically inclined did not come with the extensive knowledge of anything related to the sport and to put it simply, Mark Lee doesn't know shit about Volleyball.

Boyfriend Material || @mochidoie💕💔✅

↳ Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

Getting Even || @ofjunemoment🔞💕💔🔄

↳ Haechan is notorious for his pranks. Who can forget about the one time the campus fountain was bleeding red? You were weary of never getting on his wrong side, but when you get to know him better, it seems like behind all that front he's a sweet and caring guy. That is until you get a bucket of water dunked on you straight after he promised he wouldn't pull something on you. You're not only pissed that he had fooled you like this, but that he chose such a simple prank.

Just Friends || @lonelyharmonies💕✅

↳ what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

What The Puck || @choerrypuffs💕💔✅

↳ you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue. 

Mark Texts || @justalildumbpling💕✅

↳ (just some cute ol mark texts)

NCT 127 Texts || @12926💕✅💯

↳ sending a nude & saying "it wasn't for u"

NCT Dream Texts || @ohmygs-blog💕✅💯

↳ “last night was amazing. oops wrong person”

NCT Dream Texts || @ohmygs-blog💕✅

↳ “sorry can’t hangout w you this month, haven’t gotten paid yet!!!”

NCT Dream Texts || @hugs2doie💕✅

↳ nct dream when you hit them up with a “we need to talk”

NCT Dream Texts || @hugs2doie💕✅

↳ “i was talking to my other boyfriend” prank on the dreamies

Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **