#“wow… a sweater all for me…
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everytadashi · 10 months ago
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the-meme-monarch · 3 months ago
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i love the interpretations of Any of the pines being trans but to me mabel and dipper Are fraternal twins they are just also both trans. they just swapped names and ‘pretended’ to be the other. i know dipper being transmasc is like the most popular trans hc in the fandom, so to me this is why dipper’s name is mason but he always wanted the name tyrone
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the-everqueen · 2 months ago
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i would greatly appreciate if the ocd would stop expanding the limits/shrinking the parameters of my wardrobe so that i could stop having meltdowns about my outfits on a daily basis.
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lavender-acee · 2 years ago
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tell me headcanons and things about Kokomi that aren’t about how much guys are attracted to her plsssss im making a list
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thepandalion · 1 year ago
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people may be antisemitic towards me on the internet but at least irl I'm wearing a really cute sweater :P
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camgoloud · 1 year ago
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that section of the secret history where richard tries out a vermont winter in unsafe housing and turns into a heat scavenger while gradually descending on-page into a hypothermic fugue state except it’s literally just me trying to survive in my office now that they’ve turned the air conditioning on
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womb-complex · 8 months ago
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Oh god I’m crying so muchh… how am I supposed to tell the little girl all those years ago that she isn’t gonna end up with the person she thought was her soulmate. That it won’t work no matter how much she tried. You’ll never be that happy with them ever again because nothing ever seems to go right and the relationship wont ever be the same. and how the hell am I supposed to be okay with that forever
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loverafey · 1 month ago
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biting his bicep ! bf!rafe x reader.
          ꕀ warnings - none / fluff!! reader's a bit freaky, suggestive at the end, just a product of me staring at his arms too much in drew's latest photoshoot. wc -  658.
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your eyes had been transfixed on rafe’s arm for longer than you had initially intended to. it was supposed to be a fleeting glimpse, simple admiration for the fact that your boyfriend’s biceps had gotten big, the way they were outlined nicely albeit wearing a long sleeved sweater.
but no, it just had to turn into a whole staring fest where you tried not to swoon. admittedly, it was hard.
unintentionally chewing on your bottom lip, you were glad that he was busy elsewhere, looking at papers for some contract — or something, you had truthfully forgotten what the ordeal was. and you couldn’t bring yourself to care in this moment, wondering what it would be like to just gnaw onto those arms of his.
“stop ogling at me like that.” his playful scoff snapped you out of your daze, blood instantly rushing to your cheeks. shit.
“i wasn’t.” you were quick to retort, although quite a pointless lie. he had caught you after all, his eyes now knowingly looking back at you, a grin easing its way on his lips.
“aw, broke my heart a little bit there.” rafe feigned offense, tossing the papers aside before moving over to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tackled you, causing you to let out a yelp. you broke into giggles, more so from the embarrassment at being caught, feeling his lips brush against your forehead to press a soft kiss before pulling his head back slightly to look at your face.
“can i bite your bicep?” you asked abruptly after gaining some courage, causing his eyes to widen momentarily, an amused huff leaving his lips.
“wow, that really came out of nowhere.” his hands trailed up to caress your sides, just shy away from the undersides of your breasts, pressing another kiss, on your cheek this time. “you wanna bite my bicep?” you were quick to nod, smiling all goofily, unable for him to resist.
making it out as if he was doing it reluctantly, he rolled his eyes and sat up, taking his sweater off. you couldn’t help but take note of every freckle and mole painted on his skin, wanting to do nothing but to kiss each of them.
without waiting for him, your hands grasped his arm and tugged him down, squeeze onto his right bicep, your mouth quick to latch onto it. it was a gentle, experimental bite, filling you with a fuzzy feeling once you pulled back to see the indent of your teeth left on his skin. a mark, really. you couldn’t help but feel a sense of victory as you dove back in to bite onto his bicep again, feeling the muscle underneath your teeth. it made your jaw hurt a bit, your eyes finding his as he looked over at you in awe, a hand reaching over to ruffle your hair up while you were nibbling on his skin, leaving behind visible love bites.
“you’d make a sick vampire.” he chuckled lowly, his voice having gotten weaker. he was clearly enjoying it, your eyes instinctively trailing down to his pants, seeing the consequence of your biting.
“you like my arms that much, huh?” rafe obviously knew the answer to that, grabbing you as soon as you pulled away, flipping you around so now your back was flush against his chest. “then… you wouldn’t mind if i were to do this?” one arm came to gently wrap around your neck, making sure to not be tight but firm enough for your face to be squished by his bicep as he flexed. oh you could just squeal, heart skipping a beat as you tried to move your head down in this impossible position and take another nibble of his arm.
“so hungry.” rafe spoke, his other arm coming to wrap around your middle so you were all snug against him, not planning on letting you go anytime sooner.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months ago
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diva
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in which flirty!reader shows up to work in a bad mood and it’s spencer’s job to deal with her attitude. not that he minds. (bandages universe)
fluff warnings/tags: fem!reader, mentions of reader coming to work from a casual hookup, flirting, lots of teasing, the BAU being silly geese bc this is before all the trauma, insecurities about reader's job performance, spencer wants to be a cyborg, borderline cuddling hehehe a/n: nanana diva is a female version of a hustler (bandages!reader theme song) no but really i just missed them so much lowkey always accepting requests for these two!! I hope you guys likeeee bc i loveee them and also this was based on a request so i hope u see this LOL
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As soon as Hotch calls wheels up in thirty you’re slumping forward, resting your head on folded arms. The to-go cup on the round table in front of you has long been emptied but you look at it longingly anyway. 
Morgan chuckles, slapping his folder down on the table next to you. “Aw, look at that. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.”
“It’s Sunday,” you groan. “It’s seven in the morning. Excuse me for not being ready to carpe the diem.”
“It’s just carpe diem,” Spencer interjects, standing and slipping his file into his bag. You sit up and give him the most indignant look you can manage, though it’s hard when you’re this tired and he’s that cute. Slacks. Sweater vest. Button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. An enviable waist. 
“Whose side are you on?”
He frowns, brushing a tuft of shining-clean brown hair out of his eyes. 
“If I was on anyone’s side other than my own it would cease to be their side. We’re all always on our own sides.”
“No, you’re on my side. Defend me.”
His brows only dart up and he looks back down to his bag. It’s a look you know well. Don’t get me involved. 
Morgan spins in his chair to face you, one elbow resting on the table. 
“I’m just saying, if this is your Sunday morning, I’d love to see your Saturday night, little miss forty five minutes late.”
“You heard Hotch say he called me half an hour earlier than everyone else. It was technically fifteen,” you frown. “And I… was at church.”
Rossi gestures at you with his coffee cup. “You step foot in a church, your shoes are going to start smoking.”
Your jaw drops. 
“Wow. I thought old people were supposed to be sweet. Come on, Spencer.”
Spencer knows better than to put up a fight as you get up and grab him by the hand not holding onto your cup and folder, dragging him to the bullpen to sit at your desk until the team is ready to go. 
He stands in front of you, hands in pockets, as you plop into your own chair. “I… can’t tell if you’re actually mad.”
“I am. At you. For not being on my side.”
Spencer sets his bag down and leans against the adjacent desk, arms folded. You stopped caring a long time ago if he’d notice you ogling the long, lithe lines of him. Maybe you never really cared, if you’re being honest with yourself. He’s a little harder to scandalize these days, anyway. But you’ll never stop trying. 
He bites his lip thoughtfully. 
“If you’re mad at me, why am I the one you dragged down here?”
“I’m not taking questions, Reid.”
He hisses. “Ouch. Reid.”
“Mhm. That’s how mad I am.”
“Okay, grouchy. Do you want a refill?”
You borderline pout, continuously perplexed by his kindness in the face of your insolence, but holding out your hollow cup for him anyway as you slouch lower in your seat. 
“Don’t call me grouchy.”
“Then don’t call me Reid,” he says, taking your cup as he passes, and you think you sense the faintest wash of amusement coloring his tone. 
The jet doesn’t do much to put pep in your step. 
“Aberdeen,” Morgan muses, letting his file closed on his lap. “Isn’t that where, uh, Kurt Cobain grew up?”
Spencer sits down in the chair next to you, setting the day’s third cup of coffee in front of you on the small table. “It is. It’s also where Washington’s first suspected serial killer William Gohl resided.”
“First of many,” Rossi amends. Reid nods. 
“In the US, Washington State comes in fifth place in terms of serial killers per capita. Some blame a widespread vitamin D deficiency. Just under eight hours of sunlight in the winter, the least in the contiguous United States.”
Emily gives an abhorrent rendition of a famous Nirvana riff, imitating a twangy electric guitar, before gesturing to your boss. “Hotch, you’re from Seattle. Did you ever get into Nirvana? The whole grunge scene?”
Hotch lowers his folder, giving her an unimpressed look. “Did you?”
While the exchange is amusing, the coffee is not perking you up and you’d like to be slightly less upright, if possible. You bump Spencer’s knee with your own, and he looks over at you obediently. 
“What’s up?”
“I wanna move to the couch.”
He nods and gets right back up. When you pass, and he doesn’t immediately follow, you turn around. Maybe the lack of sleep has rendered you unable to hide your look of contempt as he tries to sit back down. 
“What are you doing?”
Morgan snorts. “Uh oh. Lapdog almost forgot his training.”
“I am not a lapdog,” Spencer defends, giving Morgan a harsh look of his own, before following you, much to the amusement of the rest of the BAU. 
“Don’t listen to them,” you mutter as you step aside to let him pass. 
He settles into the corner of the couch. “I almost never do.” When you cozy up next to him, he seems surprised. “Um, hi?”
“I’m cold. You’re warm.”
“This is… unprofessional.”
You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Oh my god. They don’t care.”
That’s enough to shut him up. Eventually he relaxes, and though he doesn’t put his arm around you (they remain crossed in front of him) he doesn’t seem too distraught over the way you’re leaning against him, head on his shoulder. The sky is a soft grey where you can see it through the little rectangles lining the far wall, like a pale tea with plenty of milk. 
“What’s up with you, anyway?” He asks eventually, gingerly, and though he’s bold to ask it you know the last thing he means to do is offend. Luckily for him, he’s your soft spot. You let your eyes flutter shut against the boxes of diffuse light. 
“Tired.”
“I know that. You’ve had three cups of coffee and you’re still about to fall asleep.”
“Well… that’s all it was.”
“Mhm.”
“God, you’re—” you lift your head, about to give him a good old fashioned verbal lashing, but he’s so sweet looking, and he’s so kind to you even when he’s not, that you deflate—all your air coming out on a sigh as you settle back against him. “I… was… not home, when Hotch called me.”
“Yeah, you said you were at church?” He sounds utterly bewildered. Your heart melts, and you can’t hide the fondness seeping from every pore as you look up at him through your lashes. He really is so beautiful. 
“That was a joke, Spence. I was with a friend.”
His brows knit and a faint blush tinges his cheeks. 
“Oh. I knew that.”
And he really is getting better at detecting your brand of sarcasm. One day you doubt you’ll be able to pull any over on him, and he’ll stop being so adorable and bashful and embarrassed and sweet all the time. You don't relish the thought.
“What were you doing this morning?” You ask, in a bid to quell the very embarrassment you covet, because you’re not actually a demon, despite what Rossi had implied earlier. 
“Sleeping.”
You hum. Imagine taking his hand. Don’t really take it. 
“Me ’nd you should hang out outside of work more often.”
“Like… in the mornings?”
“Uh, probably not,” you laugh, your own face heating at the implication he’s only sort of and undoubtedly accidentally making. “I mean—we could. We could have breakfast sometimes.”
“I like breakfast,” he muses. “I know a couple of good spots. I can show you when we get back. There are these ube pancakes that are like bright purple on the inside. Have you had ube? I think you’d like them. The pancakes and the tuber. They’re the same color as your laptop case.”
You giggle, too tired for anything more dignified and too charmed for anything less authentic. Spencer has a moment of apparent self-awareness and after a second chuckles along with you, and like 99% of your moments with him, it’s a nice one. 
It slowly fades, and you sigh. 
“We’d probably get called in right in the middle of breakfast.”
“It’s always a possibility,” Spencer agrees, and you feel him nod. He smells really nice—clean and sort of cedar-y. Warm. 
“You ever think about how we’re just… robot arms to do the bidding of the federal government? We’re not even people. We’re cyborgs.”
“I’d love to be a cyborg.”
“But then you wouldn’t be so warm and comfy.”
“If I were a cyborg I could install a heating element. I’d still be warm. I don’t know about comfy. Maybe if I kept the biomechatronics to one side of my torso.”
“You’d install a heating element just for me? So we could keep cuddling?”
He clears his throat. You smile to yourself. 
“Why are we cyborgs, exactly?”
“Because we don’t get personal lives. The job comes first. I could be doing anything. I could be in the middle of eating bright purple pancakes with my good friend and colleague Spencer Reid and it doesn’t matter. If we get called in we have to leave.”
“If we were in the middle of breakfast, we could just… take our food to go and finish it at our desks.”
“Well—I guess it would be different if it was us, but with my other friends… it’s kind of a bummer, sometimes.”
You’re thinking about the friend you left this morning. Nobody you’re particularly invested in, but you wonder if that friend is still asleep in bed—and you realize you don’t much care. You’re glad to be here, and not there. 
“I think if the job didn’t feel worth it to you, you would’ve left by now. But you haven’t. You can complain all you want, but you show up every day.”
You scoff. 
“Fifteen to 45 minutes late, depending on how you look at it.”
“That is… atypical. You’re usually on time.”
“Usually…” you repeat darkly. A moment passes. An uncomfortable insecurity begins to bloom and ache like a rotting tooth. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
Spencer doesn’t hesitate. ���Of course.”
“Do you think…” you falter, unused to this kind of vulnerability. A cloud swallows the jet and the cabin darkens into a place for secrets. “Do you think I’m worth the trouble?”
You know Spencer senses the unease like a sheepdog can sense a storm from the way he perks up next to you. He’s always been like that—incredibly attuned to the moods of others. You hope he doesn’t think profiling is just another of many learned skills. It’s a genuine talent, a sort of savantism in its own right. You can’t imagine him doing anything else as passionately as he does his job. Sometimes it almost makes you insecure. 
“What trouble?”
“Like… Hotch having to call me half an hour earlier than he calls the rest of the team. Or you, accepting my constant teasing. I know I’m—I can be kind of a diva. I don’t always really feel as professional as you guys. Or… qualified, maybe.”
You can imagine the way he’d narrow his eyes as he thinks this over, though you’d still like to see it for yourself—but you keep your head on his shoulder. In a way, he’s already getting a closer look at you than you usually grant to anyone. 
“I think… you’re good at your job. And you care more than you’d like to admit. That thing you do—where you sometimes show up a few minutes late, or you piss Rossi off on purpose, or you flirt with Hotch—I think… we all have things like that. We all self-sabotage, because it’s a really hard job, and I think we all wonder if we’re really qualified for it, or deserve to be in these positions, or if we even want the responsibility of trying to save people’s lives. But you’re a genuinely good person and a gifted profiler. And everyone else knows it, too.”
The deep thrum of the jet’s engine blurs the rest of the team’s incomprehensible chatting and the pounding of your heart into one big muddied streak of paint. Hopefully Spencer can’t feel the heat of your cheek through his shirtsleeve. 
“Oh,” you murmur. 
A moment passes. 
It’s a relief when Spencer’s anxiety comes bubbling up before your own can. “Sorry, was that too much?”
“No,” you hurry, “no, it was—no. That was really really nice of you to say. Thank you, Spencer.”
He relaxes. “Well… it’s all true.”
How could anyone ever deserve him? How does anyone get lucky enough to know a man like Spencer Reid?
When you burst through the other side of the cloud, the sun has come out. It burns away the milky early morning fog and makes your eyes ache just enough to finally wake you up. You blink and stretch against him like a cat. 
“Spence?”
“Hm?”
“I just want to clarify… I don’t flirt with Hotch. I flirt with you.”
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jupiterpilgrim · 3 days ago
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Everything's Ruined
Christmas Special 🎄
Hanni x Male Reader
word count: 10K
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The room glows with the warm, soft buzz of Christmas lights tangled messily over the mantle and around the windows. Music hums in the background—a lazy mix of holiday classics and some throwback pop songs someone thought was ironic. You’re sunk deep into the couch, a heavy glass of whiskey and eggnog dangling loose in your hand. It’s late, the party is only half over, but everyone is already wasted, even though they're just chilling now; a handful of half-drunk bodies lounging, half-assedly debating the virtues of Die Hard as a Christmas movie. 
Then there’s Hanni.
She’s curled up next to you, except "curled" isn’t right. She’s draped—like she forgot personal space was a thing about three drinks ago. Her dark hair tumbles over her face as she tips her head back in a laugh that’s way too loud for whatever dumb joke someone just made. Her cheeks are flushed, probably from the wine she’s been inhaling all night, and when she looks at you, her eyes are glassy and warm, like you’re the most hilarious person alive just for existing.
Thing is, Hanni’s your best friend—the one person you're not supposed to have these feelings for, but with the alcohol in your system and the way she’s leaning into you now, all flushed cheeks and that stupid, glassy smile, it’s getting real fucking hard to remember why.
“God, you’re so fuckin' cute,” she slurs, and you blink. She doesn’t seem to notice, just scoots closer, swinging her legs over your lap like she’s staking territory. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”
You snort. “You tell me that every time you’re wasted, Hanni. Get some new material.”
She pouts, sticking out her lip in this over-the-top cartoon way that somehow makes you grin like an idiot. Her weight settles heavier against you, and yeah, you’re feeling that whiskey warmth in your veins too. Her hand wanders—innocently enough at first—over your shoulder, across your chest, then down to rest right at the edge of dangerous territory.
“I’m serious this time, though!” She pokes your chest like she’s trying to prove a point. “You’re the only person who gets me, y’know? Like…fuck, dude, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d probably marry you.”
That pulls a laugh out of you, sharp and incredulous. “Wow, what an honor. Thanks for the consolation prize.” 
Hanni leans forward, her face inches from yours now, her breath sweet with wine and whatever sugary cocktail she’s been nursing all night. “I mean it, asshole. You’re like…everything.” Her voice drops, softer now, and she smirks, but it’s the kind of smirk that’s all affection and none of the usual bite. “You’re my fucking rock.”
You feel something twist low in your gut. “Shit, Hanni, who knew wine turned you into a Hallmark card?” you say, trying to keep it light. 
She bursts into giggles, doubling over, her face pressed to your chest. Her ass shifts on your lap, and you freeze for a second because—fuck—her skirt’s hiked up just enough for you to feel the heat of her through the thin fabric. Hanni doesn’t notice, or maybe she doesn’t care, because she’s too busy tracing lazy patterns over your stomach now, her touch just shy of intimate.
“Y’know what sucks?” she mumbles, tilting her head up to look at you, her hair sticking to her damp forehead. “You’re too good for me. Like, no joke, you should be with someone hot, not stuck babysitting my drunk ass.”
You raise an eyebrow, trying not to focus on the way her thighs are pressing into yours or the flash of bare skin where her sweater’s ridden up. “Who says I’m stuck? Maybe I like babysitting your drunk ass.”
Her face softens in this way that makes your chest feel too tight. She shifts again, pressing closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear when she whispers, “That’s why I love you.”
It’s teasing, almost playful, but there’s something heavier underneath, something that makes your pulse spike. You’re about to say something—maybe a joke, maybe something stupidly earnest—but then someone across the room yells out, “Alright, last call for shots!” 
Hanni perks up immediately, her attention snapping away from you. “Hell yeah! Let’s fucking go!” she yells, hopping up so fast you almost spill your drink.
As she stumbles off, you exhale, leaning back into the couch, trying to will away the heat simmering low in your stomach. It’s just Hanni, you remind yourself. She gets like this when she’s drunk—touchy, emotional, saying all kinds of shit she won’t even remember tomorrow. But fuck, if she isn’t beautiful, with her tiny frame and those absurdly thick thighs that make no goddamn sense on someone her size. 
You shake your head, draining the rest of your drink. 
What began as a quiet night spirals into that perfect mess of booze and laughter, the kind of chaos that only happens when no one’s watching the clock or counting drinks. Someone’s wearing a Santa hat and nothing else but a pair of boxers. Someone else decided the fake Christmas tree would make a great dance partner, and now half the ornaments are shattered on the floor. You and Hanni are still on the couch, her body leaning heavily against yours as you both wheeze-laugh at something dumb on the TV—a claymation Rudolph looking suspiciously baked out of his red-nosed mind.
At some point, Hanni grabs the half-empty bottle of wine from the coffee table and lifts it in a mock toast. “To you, bestie,” she slurs, words spilling out like syrup. “The only motherfucker who didn’t ditch me when I got kicked outta karaoke night last month.”
You roll your eyes, reaching to take the bottle from her before she spills it. “You got kicked out because you tried to sing ‘WAP’ like it was a gospel hymn, Hanni.”
“It was art, you heathen,” she shoots back, but her pout barely lasts before her face splits into a grin. “But seriously. You’re the real MVP.”
“You’re so full of shit,” you say, laughing as you set the bottle safely aside. “But thanks, I guess.”
Time keeps sliding, blurring at the edges. Someone takes an Uber home. Someone else starts snoring under the coffee table. By the time you look around again, the room’s mostly empty. It’s just you, Hanni, and the sound of some low-budget Christmas movie droning in the background. Hanni’s slumped sideways against you, her head resting on your shoulder. Her breath is soft, wine-sweet and warm, and when you shift slightly, she groans.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” she mumbles, voice thick with the haze of too much alcohol. Her hand tightens on your arm like a sleepy cat staking its claim.
“Nah, I’m good,” you say, but the sight of her like this—soft and unguarded—makes something in your chest clench. “You, on the other hand, can’t even sit up straight. You’re not going anywhere.”
She blinks up at you, her eyes unfocused but shining, like she’s trying to process your words. “So what? I just crash here?”
“No,” you say, patting her leg. “My place is closer, and I don’t trust you not to wander into traffic if I send you home.”
She snorts, the sound loud and ungraceful. “Aw, look at you, being all responsible and shit. You’re such a dad sometimes.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it. “C’mon, let’s get you sorted.”
You help her to her feet, and she wobbles, gripping your arm like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. After saying goodbye to your friends, somehow, you manage to guide her the short distance to your apartment, both of you giggling like idiots the whole way. By the time you’re inside, her sweater’s sliding off one shoulder, and her hair’s a mess, but she looks at you with this sleepy grin that makes your head swim worse than the booze.
You sit her down on the couch, and she flops back like she’s about to take a nap right then and there. “God, your couch is so comfy,” she murmurs, kicking off her shoes.
“It’s a couch, Hanni, not a five-star hotel,” you say, but you’re smiling anyway as you sit down next to her.
For a while, it’s quiet. The kind of quiet that comes when the party’s over, and the city outside is muted under the weight of night. Hanni shifts closer, curling her legs under her, her knee brushing yours. She looks at you, and there’s something in her gaze now—not just the drunken haze, but something deeper. Something you’ve been trying not to notice all night.
“I meant what I said earlier,” she says, her voice soft but steady. 
You frown. “What? That I’m cute?”
She nods, biting her lip like she’s bracing for impact. “Yeah. That. And the part about loving you.”
Your chest tightens, and you let out a short, breathless laugh, trying to break the tension. “Hanni, you’re drunk. You’re gonna forget this by tomorrow morning.”
“Fuck that,” she says, sitting up straighter now, her face inches from yours. “You think I don’t know how I feel? You’re my best friend, yeah, but also…you’re more. You’ve always been more.”
Her words hang there, heavy and undeniable. Your pulse thrums in your ears as she leans in, her lips brushing yours, tentative at first. Then it deepens, and all the air seems to vanish from the room. Her hands slide up your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair, and before you can think, you’re kissing her back, your hands gripping her waist like she’s the only thing keeping you anchored.
When you finally break apart, her lips are swollen, her breath hitching as she looks at you like you’ve just answered a question she’s been too afraid to ask.
“This is so fucking stupid,” you whisper, but you’re already leaning in again, your lips finding hers as the tension between you snaps like a live wire. She climbs onto your lap, her thighs pressing against you, and you don’t even care that you’re both still drunk. The couch groans under your combined weight, but neither of you notice, too caught up in the heat of the moment.
“We should—bed—” you manage to mumble between kisses, and she nods, her lips trailing down your jaw.
Somehow, you make it to the bedroom, the clothes leaving a haphazard trail in the hallway and inside your room. By the time you hit the mattress, both already naked, it’s not just excitement buzzing through you—it’s the quiet, electric realization that this is happening, and there’s no turning back.
The bed creaks beneath you both, the springs protesting as Hanni sprawls out on her back, looking up at you with a mix of hazy confidence and nervous vulnerability. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a wild mess against your pillow, and she’s biting her lip so hard you’re half afraid she’ll draw blood. You hover over her, your hands on either side of her, just taking her in for a moment. This is Hanni—your best friend, your partner in crime—and right now, she looks like a fucking dream, her legs parted slightly, the curve of her hips begging for attention.
“You’re staring,” she says, voice low but teasing, and she reaches up, cupping your jaw with one hand. Her fingers are warm, soft, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “I know I’m hot, but damn.”
You laugh, short and breathless, shaking your head. “Fuck off, Hanni. You’re not gonna ruin this by talking shit.”
“Oh, I’m totally gonna talk shit,” she replies, her grin sharp but faltering slightly when you dip your head, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss is slower this time, deeper, and when you nip at her bottom lip, she gasps into your mouth, her hips shifting beneath you.
Your hand finds her side. Her skin’s soft and warm, and when your palm grazes the swell of her breast, she lets out this soft, needy sound that goes straight to your cock
“God, you’re so fucking impatient,” you murmur against her lips, but your tone’s more affectionate than mocking. Your hand slides down, over her tummy, then you pause, your fingers resting just above where you know she’s burning for you.
“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Her eyes lock on yours, and for a moment, you think she’s gonna back out, but then she smirks. “Don’t fucking tease me.”
“Well, now I have to,” you say, rubbing your fingers on her mon pubis.
“Asshole,” she breathes, but her words catch in her throat when your fingers find her slick folds. She’s soaked, and the realization sends a rush of heat through you. “Oh, fuck—”
“Shit, Hanni,” you say, your voice rough with a mix of awe and lust. “You’re fucking dripping.”
Her laugh is shaky, more like a breathy moan. “Yeah, well…you’re taking your sweet ass time about it.”
“Patience is a virtue,” you reply, but your fingers are already sliding lower, brushing over her clit. The reaction is immediate—her body jerks, her hips pressing up into your hand as a strangled moan escapes her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her words tumbling out as your fingers circle her clit, slow and deliberate. “Just like that—oh, god, yeah, like th—oh fuck!”
Her voice cuts off as you slide one finger into her, her walls clenching around you like a vice. You add another finger, curling them slightly, and the noise she makes is obscene—half a gasp, half a moan, her head tipping back against the pillow.
“You’re so fucking tight,” you say, your voice low and rough. “How the fuck are you this tight?”
“Shut up,” she groans, but there’s no real bite to her words. Her hands grip the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping her grounded as you start moving, your fingers pumping into her at a steady rhythm.
Her hips roll against your hand, desperate and needy, and when your thumb brushes her clit again, she practically cries out. “Oh my god—yes—just like that—fuck!”
“Yeah?” you ask, grinning as you lean down, your lips grazing her ear. “You like that, Hanni? You like the way I’m fucking you with my fingers?”
“Yes—fuck, yes—” she gasps, her voice breaking as her body arches off the bed. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking dare—”
Her words dissolve into moans as you pick up the pace, your fingers fucking her harder, faster. You can feel her tightening around you, her breath hitching, her entire body trembling as she teeters on the edge.
“Come on, Hanni,” you murmur, your lips brushing her temple. “Let go for me. I wanna feel you cum all over my fingers.”
Her response is incoherent—a garbled mix of your name and curses—but then she’s coming apart, her back arching, her thighs trembling as her pussy clenches around your fingers. Her moan is long and guttural, her hands flying to your shoulders as she rides out the waves of her orgasm.
“Fuck—fuck, oh my god—” she pants, her chest heaving as she comes down, her body still shivering under your touch. You don’t stop, not yet, your fingers slowing but staying inside her, coaxing out every last aftershock.
When you finally pull your hand away, her eyes flutter open, and she looks at you with a dazed, fucked-out expression that makes your chest tighten.
“Holy shit,” she breathes, her voice shaky. “That was…”
You smirk, leaning down to kiss her, your lips brushing hers lightly. “We’re not done yet.”
Before she can respond, you slide down the bed, positioning yourself between her legs. You press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, your hands spreading her open, and she gasps, her hands flying to your hair as your tongue flicks over her sensitive clit, licking through the mess she’s left behind—sweet, sticky, and fucking intoxicating. Hanni’s trembling beneath you, her thighs twitching every time your tongue grazes her clit. Her fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging just hard enough to sting, and you can’t tell if she’s trying to push you away or keep you there forever.
“Jesus fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” she gasps, her voice breathy and half-wrecked, like she’s been screaming at a concert all night. “I’m—oh god—s-sensitive—”
You pull back slightly, grinning against her skin. “Yeah? Sensitive, huh? You’re the one who keeps pulling me closer.”
“Shut up,” she snaps, but her words falter when you press your tongue flat against her, slow and wet, dragging it from her entrance to her clit. Her body jolts, a sharp inhale cutting her off. “Oh fuck—stop talking and just—”
“What? Just this?” you interrupt, sucking her clit into your mouth, your fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place when she tries to squirm away. Her reaction is immediate—her back arches off the mattress, her head tossing back against the pillow.
“FUCK—yes, like that—oh my god, just like that—” she chokes out, her voice rising and falling with every flick of your tongue.
You pull back just enough to murmur, “You taste so fucking good, Hanni. I could eat you all night.”
She groans, throwing an arm over her face, her voice a mix of exasperation and raw need. “You’re such a goddamn showoff.”
“And you love it,” you reply, sliding your tongue back inside her, savoring the way she clenches around it. The cream left behind from her last orgasm coats your lips, and you lap at it like a man starving, dragging out every broken moan she gives you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she stammers, her hands gripping your hair like a lifeline. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”
You pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning up at her. “Gonna what? Cum again? Already?”
Her glare is half-hearted, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re dripping,” you shoot back, crawling up her body until your face is hovering over hers. You kiss her, slow and dirty, letting her taste herself on your lips. When you pull back, her eyes flicker down between your bodies, and her breath hitches.
“Holy shit,” she whispers, and you follow her gaze to where your cock is pressed against her stomach, hard and heavy. “That’s…uh…”
“What?” you ask, smirking. “Bigger than you expected?”
She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing as her eyes dart back to your face. “I mean—yeah, kinda.”
You laugh, the sound low and rough as you reach down, guiding her onto her hands and knees. “Don’t worry. You’ll take it.”
She lets out a nervous laugh, glancing over her shoulder at you as you position yourself behind her. “Confident much?”
“You’ll see,” you say, running the head of your cock along her folds, teasing her just enough to make her hips jerk back toward you. “Fuck, Hanni, you’re so wet. You’re gonna take me so good.”
Her response is a shaky moan, her hands gripping the sheets as you push inside her, slow and steady. The stretch is immediate, her body tightening around you like a vice, and you grit your teeth, fighting to keep control.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, her voice high and breathless. “Oh fuck—you’re—fuck, you’re huge—”
“Yeah?” you say, gripping her hips as you sink deeper, inch by inch. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Fuck, yes—don’t stop—” she groans, her head dropping forward as you bottom out, your hips flush against her ass. You stay still for a moment, letting her adjust, your hands smoothing over her waist, her back, the curve of her ass.
“You look so fucking good like this,” you murmur, giving her ass a firm squeeze. “All spread out for me.”
She lets out a soft laugh, glancing back at you with a dazed smirk. “You’re so full of yourself.”
You don’t bother replying, instead pulling back and snapping your hips forward, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Her gasp turns into a cry, her body rocking forward with the force of your thrust.
“Fuck—yes, just like that—” she moans, her voice muffled as her face presses into the pillow. You pick up the pace, your grip on her hips tightening as you fuck her harder, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you.
You raise one hand, bringing it down on her ass with a sharp slap. The sound echoes in the room, and she cries out, her walls tightening around you. “Shit—you like that?” you ask, spanking her again, harder this time.
“Fuck—yes—do it again—” she pants, her voice ragged. You oblige, your hand coming down on her ass until it’s red and warm under your palm. She’s a mess beneath you, moaning and writhing, her body arching every time you spank her.
Your grip tightens on Hanni’s hips as you feel her starting to unravel. Her moans spill out in frantic, breathy bursts, her voice trembling under the pressure of everything building inside her. She’s trying to keep her balance, her arms shaking as she holds herself up, but you’re not making it easy. Every thrust has her lurching forward, her ass bouncing back to meet you, her body completely giving in to the rhythm you’ve set.
“Shit—fuck—oh my god, I’m so close,” she stammers, her voice climbing higher, more desperate with every word. Her hands claw at the sheets, bunching the fabric into her fists as you slam into her again, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.
“Come on, Hanni,” you growl, your breath hot against the sweat-slicked curve of her back. Your hand dips between her legs, fingers finding her clit and circling it in sync with your thrusts. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you?”
“Yes—oh god, yes,” she cries out, her voice cracking as her hips buck against your hand. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”
You don’t. You keep your pace steady, unrelenting, the wet sounds of her slick pussy growing louder, more obscene, until finally, she snaps. Her whole body locks up, her head tossing back as a scream tears out of her throat, raw and broken. 
“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her thighs trembling violently as her orgasm rips through her, wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure. Her walls clench around you like a vice, trying to pull you deeper, but you hold still, grinding into her just enough to prolong her high. Her moans turn into whimpers, then gasps, her body sagging forward as she rides out the aftershocks.
When she finally collapses, her chest heaving against the mattress, you can’t help but grin. “Oh Hanni,” you murmur, sliding out of her slowly, your cock still hard and aching, slick with her arousal. “You looked so fucking good just now.”
She turns her head, her hair sticking to her flushed, sweaty face as she glares at you halfheartedly. “Shut up,” she mutters, but her voice is shaky, her body still twitching with the remnants of her orgasm.
“Nah, I mean it,” you say, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. “You’re fucking perfect like this.”
Her response is a muffled groan into the pillow, and you laugh, flipping her onto her back before she can complain. Her legs fall open instinctively, and the sight of her laid out beneath you—skin flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly—makes your cock twitch.
“I’m not done with you yet,” you murmur, positioning yourself between her legs. Your hands slide up her thighs, pushing them further apart as you line yourself up with her entrance. She looks up at you, her lips parted, her eyes hazy but full of something that goes deeper than just lust.
“God, you’re so fucking cheesy,” she whispers, but there’s no bite to her words. If anything, she looks…soft. Open. Like she’s waiting for something only you can give her.
You push into her slowly, watching her face as you fill her inch by inch. Her lips fall open, a soft gasp escaping her as her body stretches to accommodate you. “Oh fuck,” she breathes, her hands coming up to clutch at your shoulders. “Oh my god, you’re—fuck, you’re so deep—”
“Yeah?” you ask, your voice rough as you bottom out, your hips flush against hers. “Feel good?”
“Fuck yes,” she moans, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you closer. “God, you feel so fucking good—”
You start moving, your thrusts slow and deliberate, dragging your cock out almost all the way before slamming back into her. Her head tips back, her nails digging into your shoulders as she moans unabashedly, her voice filling the room. “Yes—fuck, just like that—”
You lean down, bracing yourself on your forearms so you’re hovering over her. Your lips find hers, swallowing her cries as you pick up the pace, your hips snapping against hers harder, faster. She breaks the kiss first, gasping for air, her hands sliding into your hair to tug you closer.
“I love you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies colliding. Her eyes meet yours, wide and shining, and the vulnerability in her expression makes your cock throbs. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
You freeze for a second, but the way she’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth—it's enough to drive you crazy. “Hanni,” you murmur, your voice breaking as you start moving again, slower this time, each thrust deep and deliberate. “Fuck, I love you too.”
Her breath hitches, and she pulls you down into another kiss, her legs tightening around you as if she’s trying to fuse your bodies together. “Don’t stop,” she whispers against your lips. “Don’t ever stop.”
"I won't," you groan, your cock throbbing inside her tight, wet pussy as you grind deep. Her walls flutter around you with each slow, deliberate thrust, and you can feel how close she is to cumming. You press your forehead against hers, maintaining eye contact as you fuck her with long, measured strokes.
"You feel so good wrapped around my cock," you tell her, your voice rough with emotion. "So fucking perfect, Hanni. Love how wet you get for me."
She whimpers, her nails digging into your shoulders as her hips buck up to meet yours. "Only for you," she gasps. "Nobody's ever made me this wet before."
The admission makes your cock twitch, and you reward her with a particularly deep thrust that has her crying out. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby. Tell me how good I make you feel."
"So good," she moans, her pussy clenching around you. "Your cock fills me up perfectly. Feels like you were made for me."
You kiss her hard, swallowing her moans as you pick up the pace slightly. Your tongue slides against hers as you fuck her deeper, harder, but still maintaining that intimate connection. Her tits press against your chest with each thrust, her hard nipples dragging against your skin.
"Love these perfect tits," you growl, breaking the kiss to trail your lips down her neck. You suck hard enough to leave marks, wanting everyone to know she's yours. "I love how they bounce while I fuck you, how they get so hard for me."
Hanni arches her back, pressing her chest more firmly against you. "Please," she whimpers. "Touch them, suck on them, anything!"
You shift your weight to one arm so you can cup one of her tits, rolling the nipple between your fingers as you continue to thrust. "Like this, baby? Like having your tits played with while I fuck your tight little pussy?"
"Yes!" she cries out, her walls clamping down around you. "Fuck, I'm getting close!"
"That's it," you encourage her, lowering your head to take her other nipple into your mouth. You suck hard while still pinching and rolling the other one, your cock never stopping its steady rhythm inside her. "Want to feel you cum all over my cock. Want to feel how tight that pussy gets when you lose control."
Her hands slide into your hair, holding you against her breast as you continue to suck and nibble at her sensitive flesh. "Oh god, oh fuck," she pants, her thighs trembling where they're wrapped around your waist. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"
You release her nipple with a wet pop, looking up to meet her eyes again. "Never stopping, baby. Gonna keep fucking this sweet pussy until you can't take it anymore." You punctuate your words with a particularly deep thrust that has her seeing stars.
"Love watching you fall apart on my cock," you continue, your voice rough with desire. "Love feeling your pussy get wetter and tighter with each thrust. You gonna cum for me, Hanni? Gonna show me how good I make you feel?"
She nods frantically, her eyes glazed with pleasure as she stares up at you. "So close," she whimpers. "Just a little more, please!"
You shift slightly, changing the angle of your thrusts so your cock drags against her g-spot with each stroke. At the same time, you slide your hand between your bodies to find her clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud.
"Fuck!" she screams, her back arching off the bed. "Right there, right fucking there!"
"Yeah? This what you need, baby?" You keep the pressure steady on her clit as you continue to pound into her g-spot. "Love how your pussy's gripping me right now. Can feel how close you are to cumming."
Her nails rake down your back as she writhes beneath you, chasing her orgasm. "Please," she begs. "Make me cum again, please make me cum!"
You lean down to whisper in her ear, your voice low and rough. "Cum for me, Hanni. Show me how good my cock makes you feel. Want to feel that tight little pussy squeeze me while you cream all over my dick."
That does it. With a sharp cry of your name, Hanni's orgasm crashes over her. Her pussy clamps down around you like a vice as she cums, her whole body shaking with the force of her release. You can feel her cream gushing around your cock, making everything even wetter and slicker as you continue to fuck her through it.
"That's it, baby," you groan, fighting against your own need to cum as her walls milk your cock. "Fuck, you look so beautiful when you cum. Love watching you lose control like this."
She's babbling incoherently now, a stream of "fuck" and "yes" and your name falling from her lips as her orgasm continues to roll through her. Her pussy is practically convulsing around your cock, making it incredibly difficult to hold back your own release.
But you manage, wanting to draw out her pleasure as long as possible. You stay buried inside her for what feels like forever, your bodies pressed together, sweat mingling, her legs still wrapped tightly around your waist. Hanni’s breathing slows gradually, her chest rising and falling against yours as her trembling subsides. You brush her hair out of her face, tucking the damp strands behind her ear, and she gives you this sleepy, satisfied grin that makes your chest ache.
“You’re gonna ruin me, baby,” she mutters, her voice soft and teasing, her fingers trailing lazily over your back. 
You chuckle, nipping at her jawline. “Pretty sure I already did that.”
“Shut up,” she murmurs, but there’s no heat to it. She shifts slightly, wincing when your cock twitches inside her, still rock hard. “Jesus, are you still ready to go?”
“Can’t help it,” you reply, smirking as you grind against her, making her gasp. “You’re fucking addictive, Hanni.”
She groans, covering her face with one hand, but when she peeks up at you through her fingers, her eyes are gleaming. “Okay, fine. My turn.” 
You raise an eyebrow. “Your turn for what?”
“To make you cum, dumbass.” She pushes at your chest until you roll onto your back, letting her straddle you. Her thighs press against your hips as she sits back, your cock still buried deep inside her. She bites her lip, her hands sliding over your chest. “God, you’re fucking huge. I can feel you all the way in my stomach.”
“Yeah?” you say, your voice rough, your hands finding her waist. “You’re taking me so fucking well, Hanni. You're absolutely perfect.”
“Damn right I am,” she says, smirking as she starts to move, slow and deliberate, rocking her hips in a way that makes your breath catch. “Fuck, you’re so deep…”
She sets a rhythm, her hands braced on your chest, her body rolling against yours with a lazy, drunk confidence. The sight of her above you—hair a mess, lips swollen, her tits bouncing with every move—has you gripping her hips like she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
“Shit, Hanni,” you groan, your head tipping back against the pillow. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”
Her laugh is breathy, almost mocking. “Good,” she says, picking up the pace, her thighs slapping against yours with every bounce. ���You deserve it.”
Her movements get sloppier, needier, her breath hitching every time your cock hits that spot inside her. And then, out of nowhere, she starts talking—dirty, raw, and absolutely unhinged.
“God, I can feel you so fucking deep,” she moans. “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that? You’re gonna fuck me so full I won’t even be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Fuck,” you hiss, her words going straight to your cock, making you buck up into her. “Keep talking, baby. Fucking say it.”
With your request, Hanni rides you with a desperation that feels almost animalistic, her hips slamming down onto yours like she’s trying to bury you even deeper inside her. Every bounce makes her tits jiggle, her nails scraping against your chest, leaving angry red trails that sting just enough to keep you tethered to reality. But just barely. You’re so drunk, so fucking drunk, that every sensation feels magnified, her heat, her tightness, the wet sounds of her cunt taking you over and over—it’s all you can focus on.
“Fuck—oh fuck—you’re so fucking deep,” she continues, her voice raw and slurred, her head tipping back as she grinds against you, her clit brushing against the base of your cock. “I really can feel you in my fucking stomach—god, you’re ruining me—”
You groan, your hands glued to her waist, guiding her movements as she slams down onto you again and again. “You’re so fucking tight, Hanni. I can barely move—you’re gripping me so fucking hard.”
Her moans grow louder, more frantic, and when she leans forward, her lips grazing your ear, her voice drops to a sultry whisper that shoots straight through you like lightning. “You’re gonna cum inside me, aren’t you?” 
Your breath catches, your hands tightening on her hips. “What?”
“You’re gonna fucking fill me up,” she says, her teeth nipping at your earlobe. “I can feel you, baby—you’re so fucking close. I want it. God, I need it.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Hanni—” Your head falls back against the pillow, your grip on her hips almost bruising now as she speeds up, her thighs slapping against yours with every bounce. You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a reply, because all you can hear, all you can feel, is her.
“I want you to breed me,” she breathes, her words spilling out like she doesn’t even care how insane they sound. “I want you to fill me so fucking full I can feel you leaking out of me for days.”
You choke on a groan, your hips bucking up into her so hard it makes her gasp, her nails dragging down your chest. “Fuck, Hanni—you’re out of your goddamn mind.”
“And it's all your fault,” she shoots back, her voice dripping with lust as she smirks down at you. “You know you drive me crazy and still insist on teasing me. Tell me the truth: you’ve been dying to cum inside me all night, haven’t you?”
“Shit—” Your voice cracks as she grinds her hips in slow, teasing circles, her walls fluttering around you like she knows exactly what she’s doing. “You’re fucking insane.”
She leans down, her hands braced on either side of your head, her breath hot against your face. “Maybe,” she whispers, her voice trembling but full of wicked intent. “But you’re gonna give me what I want, aren’t you?”
Her lips crash against yours before you can answer, swallowing your groan as she slams down onto you again, her movements frantic and unrelenting. The angle shifts just enough to make your cock hit that perfect spot inside her, and she breaks the kiss with a scream, her body convulsing as she clings to you.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck yes—just like that,” she babbles, her words spilling out in a breathless rush. “You’re so deep, so fucking deep—I want it, baby, I want you to cum inside me. Please—fuck—please, I need it.”
Her pleading sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel your control unraveling, your body tensing as the pressure builds, white-hot and unbearable. “Shit, Hanni—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m so close—”
"Yes, yes, fucking breed me!" she begs, voice breaking as she slams herself down harder. "Fill this tight pussy up with your hot fucking cum. I need you to knock me up so bad. Pump that thick cum deep in my womb!"
Her dirty talk drives you wild. Your hands grip her waist, helping lift and drop her onto your throbbing shaft. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, making obscene wet sounds each time she takes you to the hilt. The way her walls grip and massage your cock has your eyes rolling back.
"Gonna cum," you grunt, feeling your balls tighten. "Gonna flood that tight pussy."
"Do it! Fucking do it!" She starts grinding and circling her hips, stimulating every sensitive spot. "Give me every last drop. Want your cum dripping out of me for days!"
Your orgasm hits like a tsunami. Your cock pulses violently as you start shooting thick ropes of hot cum deep inside her. But she doesn't stop - if anything she fucks you harder, determined to milk out every single drop.
"Oh fuuuuck!" you moan as she keeps bouncing through your orgasm. The stimulation is almost too much on your sensitive cock but she won't let up. Her pussy walls contract rhythmically, literally sucking the cum out of you.
"I can feel it," she pants, eyes glazed with lust. "So much hot cum filling me up. Keep cumming for me, baby. Give me more!"
The continued stimulation has you seeing stars. Your cock is so sensitive it almost hurts but the pleasure is mind-blowing. She grinds down hard, working her hips in circles as she milks out another surge of cum.
"Such a good boy," she purrs. "Giving me all that potent cum. Gonna put a baby in me with all this hot fucking seed."
Your whole body trembles as she continues riding. More cum spurts out with each bounce, making wet squelching sounds as it mixes with her juices. She's absolutely relentless, using your cock like her personal cum extraction tool.
"Please," you gasp, overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. "Fuck, Hanni!"
"Just a little more," she moans, her movements getting erratic. "Want every last drop inside me. Need all your cum breeding my tight little pussy!"
Your eyes roll back as another orgasm crashes through you, smaller but just as intense. She cries out in triumph as she feels the fresh surge of cum, her own orgasm making her pussy convulse around your oversensitive cock.
"Fuck yes! Breed me, breed me, breed meeee!" She collapses onto your chest, still grinding slowly. "So much cum... You give me so much cum, baby… can feel it so deep..."
Your cock gives a few final weak pulses, completely drained. She finally stills but keeps you trapped inside her, her pussy occasionally squeezing as if trying to coax out any remaining drops.
"Mmm, your cum is so hot, baby," she sighs contentedly. "Filled me up so perfectly. Gonna keep all this hot cum inside me until it takes."
You can only lie there panting as she nuzzles your neck, your thoroughly milked cock still twitching inside her cum-flooded pussy.
You wrap your arms around her, holding her close, and for a long moment, neither of you says anything. The room is silent except for the faint hum of the city outside and the sound of your uneven breathing. Everything feels still, heavy, like the world just stopped to let you exist like this.
Then Hanni snorts.
It starts quiet, just a soft huff against your chest, but it builds quickly, bubbling up until she’s full-on giggling like a kid who just got caught doing something stupid. It’s contagious. You’re laughing too, your head tipping back into the pillow, your chest shaking beneath her.
“What the fuck are we even laughing at?” you wheeze, running a hand through her damp hair as her giggles turn into full-blown cackles.
“I don’t know!” she gasps, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. “I think—I think it’s just—holy shit, we actually did that.”
You grin, wiping at her face with the pad of your thumb. “Yeah, we fucking did. And now I can’t feel my legs, so thanks for that.”
“Don’t even,” she shoots back, propping her chin on your chest and glaring at you playfully. “You’re the one who fucked me so hard I saw stars.”
“Yeah? You’re welcome, then.” You wink at her, and she groans, burying her face in your chest again, her laughter muffled against your skin. 
When she finally calms down, she tilts her head up to look at you, her expression softening. “Hey,” she says quietly, her fingers brushing over your jawline. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, you know. I love you.”
Her words hit you like a sucker punch, but not in a bad way. It’s more like someone just flipped a switch inside you, lighting up every dark, unspoken corner of your heart. “Fuck,” you murmur. “I love you too, Hanni.”
She beams, her smile so wide and genuine it almost makes you forget how fucking trashed you both are. “That was—shit, that was the best sex of my life,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Like, no contest. Hall of Fame level.”
You snort. “Same. And that’s saying something, because I once hooked up with this girl who—”
“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence,” she interrupts, smacking your chest lightly. “Don’t ruin the moment!”
“Fine, fine,” you say, grinning as you squeeze her waist. “Moment un-ruined. But seriously, you were fucking amazing.”
She smirks, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Duh. I know that already.”
“God, you’re impossible,” you mutter, but your smile doesn’t falter. 
She yawns suddenly, the sound soft and innocent, and you raise an eyebrow. “You good? Wanna hop in the shower or something before we crash?”
Her nose wrinkles immediately, and she shakes her head. “Fuck that. I’m not moving an inch. We can sleep like this—sweaty, sticky, whatever. I don’t give a shit.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you pull her closer, tucking her against your side. “You’re such a goddamn gremlin.”
“Aaand-youuu-loveee-it,” she mumbles, already half-asleep, her voice muffled against your chest. 
“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand running up and down her back. “I fucking do.”
Then, finally, the alcohol and exhaustion hit you both like a fucking truck, pulling you under faster than you expect. You drift off together, her body warm and soft against yours, her breath slow and steady in your ear. It’s messy and stupid and probably the worst decision you’ve ever made, but for now, it feels like the best thing in the world. You fall asleep like two reckless, drunk kids who don’t know any better, and for a little while, everything feels perfect. 
It's like the first morning in purgatory. 
You stir first, the throbbing in your skull dragging you out of unconsciousness. Your mouth is dry, your limbs heavy, and every movement feels like wading through molasses. You blink against the pale light leaking through the blinds, your vision blurry, the pounding in your head relentless. Beside you, Hanni lets out a soft groan, still half-buried in the covers, her hair a wild mess against the pillow.
“Fuck…” you croak, your voice rough as sandpaper. “What the hell happened?”
Hanni stirs, her face scrunching up in discomfort. “Why does my brain feel like it’s on fire?” she mutters, her words muffled against the pillow. She shifts slightly, the sheet slipping down to reveal bare shoulders. “Wait—”
She freezes.
Your eyes snap fully open, the fog in your head clearing just enough to process what you’re seeing. Hanni’s eyes go wide, darting between your face and the sheet draped haphazardly over your waist. “Why the fuck are we naked?” she asks, her voice pitching higher, panic seeping into her tone.
You wince, the sound drilling into your already aching skull. “I—uh—” You glance down, seeing your bare chest, then feel the cool air against your equally bare ass under the sheets. “Shit.”
Her hands fly to her own chest, clutching the blanket against herself as if that’ll undo whatever the fuck happened. “Did we…? Oh my god, did we fuck?” 
You sit up slowly, your head spinning. “I don’t know! I mean…” Your brow furrows as fragmented memories start piecing themselves together. Her riding you, her breathless moans, the way she begged—fuck, fuck, fuck. “Okay, maybe. Yeah, probably.”
“Probably?” she snaps, sitting up too quickly and clutching her head. “Fuck, my brain feels like it’s gonna split in half. Okay, but like—wait.” Her voice falters, her panic mounting as her eyes search your face. “Did you—did you, uh, cum inside me?”
You freeze, the question hitting you like a brick to the face. “What?” you ask, stalling for time as your headache roars back to life. “I don’t…fuck, I don’t remember. I was so wasted—”
“Oh my god,” she interrupts, her voice trembling as she throws off the covers and sits back on her heels, her hands flying between her legs. She winces, her fingers brushing something sticky, and when she pulls them back, her face goes pale. “Oh my fucking god. I can feel it. It’s—it’s dry—holy shit, you really came inside me!”
Your stomach twists violently as the memories come flooding back—the heat of her body, the way she clung to you, the way you spilled into her so deeply it felt like you’d never come back up for air. “Shit,” you mutter, dragging a hand down your face. “Okay. Fuck. Yeah, that…definitely happened.”
“On Christmas?” she nearly shrieks, clutching the sheet around herself like it’s some kind of moral shield. “You knocked me up on fucking Christmas? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up!” you say, raising your hands defensively. “First of all, technically it was on Christmas Eve. Hmm, although there is a big chance it could have happened after midnight, I think we got here pretty late…” Hanni looks at you as if contemplating the idea of committing murder. “Oh, second and most importantly, nobody’s knocked up yet. It doesn’t happen that fast!”
“Yeah, but you fucking came inside me!” she shoots back, her voice a wild mix of fury and panic. “What the hell were we thinking? Why the fuck didn’t we use a condom?!” 
“I don’t know, Hanni! We were drunk off our asses! I barely even remember half of last night!” You gesture vaguely at the room, at the scattered clothes and the bed completely messed up. “I mean, look at this shit. Does this look like the scene of responsible decision-making?”
She glares at you, her hands still clutching the sheet tightly. “Okay, well, what the fuck do we do now? The pharmacies are probably closed. It’s Christmas! Do you think there’s some magical 24/7 Plan B hotline we can call? Hey, Santa, got any emergency contraceptives in that bag of yours?”
Her sarcasm slices through the tension, and despite the mounting panic, you can’t help but laugh—a short, bitter sound. “Yeah, let’s just write to the fucking North Pole. ‘Dear Santa, I was very naughty last night. Please send condoms and a time machine.’”
She doesn’t laugh. She’s too busy pacing now, muttering under her breath as she tries to piece together a plan. “Okay, okay, maybe there’s a convenience store open somewhere. Or—fuck, do I know someone who could have contraceptives? No, that’s stupid—god, I’m so fucking stupid—”
Hanni moves like a whirlwind, her body tense and her face set as she grabs her scattered clothes off your bedroom and hallway floor. She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t even glance in your direction as she yanks her sweater over her head and hops into her underwear with sharp, jerky movements. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, the sheet pooling around your waist, watching her with growing agony.
“Hanni, will you just fucking stop for a second?” you say, your voice low but urgent. “We need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” she snaps, still not looking at you as she grabs her jeans. “About how we were too drunk and stupid to use protection? About how I might have a goddamn Christmas baby on the way? Yeah, sounds like a super fun conversation.”
You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face. “Come on, don’t do this. We can figure it out together—”
“There’s nothing to figure out!” she interrupts, finally turning to face you, her expression a volatile mix of anger and panic. “I’m going home. I need—I just need to think. Alone.”
“Alone?” you repeat, standing up, the sheet slipping off your waist. “You’re seriously just gonna leave? What if you—”
“I’ll find a pharmacy,” she says quickly, cutting you off again. “I’ll take care of it. I just… I can’t fucking deal with this right now, okay?”
“Hanni, please,” you say, stepping closer, reaching out to grab her arm. “Don’t shut me out. I—fuck, I care about you. We’ll get through this together.”
She pulls her arm out of your grip, her jaw tight. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who could end up pregnant. You’re not the one who has to wonder how the fuck you got here with your best friend.”
This unsettles you for a moment, but before you can reply, she’s already slipping on her jacket, her hand on the doorknob. “Hanni,” you say again, softer this time, your voice almost pleading. “Stay. Please.”
She pauses, just for a second, her shoulders slumping. But then she shakes her head, her voice nothing but a whisper. “I can’t.” 
And with that, she’s gone, leaving you standing in the doorway, naked, hungover, and completely fucking lost.
The next few weeks are a blur of radio silence and vague, clipped texts that feel more like placeholders than actual communication. Hanni texts you the morning after to say she found a pharmacy that was miraculously open on Christmas and took the pill, but that’s it. No follow-ups, no calls, just short, impersonal messages that feel like they’re written by a stranger.
You spend every day alternating between guilt, panic, and a weird, gnawing ache you can’t quite name. Every time your phone buzzes, your heart races, hoping it’s her. Half the time it’s not, and the other half it’s just more of the same: I’m fine. Just busy. Talk later.
When “later” finally comes, it’s weeks down the line. You’re sitting on your couch, staring blankly at some shitty Netflix movie you’re not even watching, when your phone rings. The sight of Hanni’s name on the screen jolts you upright, your heart pounding as you fumble to answer.
“Hanni,” you say, your voice cracking slightly. “Hey. What’s—what’s up?”
There’s a pause, and then her voice comes through, soft and hesitant. “I got my period.”
Relief floods through you so fast it almost knocks you over. “Oh, thank fuck,” you mutter, leaning back into the couch, your head tipping back against the cushions. “That’s—that’s fucking great news.”
“Yeah,” she says, but there’s no relief in her tone. Just exhaustion. “It is.”
You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you like a storm cloud. Finally, you clear your throat. “Can I see you? Maybe we could grab coffee or something, just talk. I miss you, Hanni.”
She sighs, long and heavy. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What…? Why not?”
“Because,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “Because I’ve spent the last few weeks losing my mind, thinking about what might have happened, what did happen. I’ve been trying to figure out how the fuck we ended up here, and I still don’t have an answer.”
“We ended up here because we were drunk and stupid,” you say quickly, your words spilling out like a defense mechanism. “But that doesn’t mean—”
“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake?” she interrupts, her tone sharper now. “Because that’s what I keep asking myself. Was this a mistake? Did we ruin everything for one fucking night of drunken stupidity?”
“Hanni,” you say, your voice low and steady. “It wasn’t just one night. Don’t pretend like you don’t feel something—”
“Of course I feel something!” she snaps, cutting you off. “That’s the fucking problem! I can’t stop thinking about it—about you. About your hands, your body, your mouth, your fucking cock. And that’s why I can’t see you right now, because if I do…” She trails off, her breath hitching.
“Because if you do, what?” you press, your chest tight.
“Because if I do, it’s gonna happen again,” she says, her voice trembling. “And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or if it’s just gonna destroy everything we had.”
“We’ve already fucked up everything we had, Hanni,” you say quietly. “The question is whether we’re gonna fix it or just throw it all away.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, bitter and broken. “I don’t know if it can be fixed. I don’t even know what it is anymore.”
“So what?” you say, your voice rising slightly. “You’re just gonna ghost me? Walk away from everything we’ve built?”
“I’m not walking away,” she says softly. “I just… I need time. To figure out what I want, what we are, what we could be. I need to get over this before I see you again. Because if I don’t…”
“I thought you loved me... I mean, you said that to me that night.” 
“I wasn't ready, you understand? Not really. This wasn't how I wanted it to happen… our first time, the confession of my feelings… I just…”
She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t need to. The weight of her words hangs heavy in the silence, suffocating you.
“When will I see you?” you ask.
“I don’t know,” she replies, her voice cracking. “I really don’t.”
“Hann—”
The line cuts out, and you’re left holding the phone, staring at her name disappearing from the screen. The movie’s still playing, but it might as well not be.
You drop the phone, lean back, and close your eyes. Outside, the world moves on, but inside, it’s just silence—heavy, empty, and endless.
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waitingonher · 1 year ago
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because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]
summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!
author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo
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percy jackson — doodling on him
“give me your hand.”
“yes ma’am.”
minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.
“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”
he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?” 
“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…” 
your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.” 
“whatever.” 
jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes
“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?” 
nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.” 
a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.” 
you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink. 
“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"
you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."
leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows
“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth. 
leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”
“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act. 
your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!” 
your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.” 
“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.” 
"i'm seriously going to kill you."
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clockwayswrites · 9 days ago
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For the Birdicts. Part 27
Masterpost
There were gentle fingers in his wings.
Danny muffled the sleepy, hysterical chuckle at that thought into the soft surface that he was tucked against. He really had hoped that he wouldn’t have wings any longer when he woke, but when had he ever been that lucky.
The fingers stilled.
“Danny?” The person rumbled.
Very much did not wanting to be awake, Danny replied with a disgruntled grumble.
A chuckle answered him back. The finger picked back up the gentle touch to Danny’s wings. As Danny’s mind continued to come online, he realized that the fingers were fixing and straightening the mussed feathers.
It actually felt rather nice.
Danny let himself continue to drift for a little longer. Let his wings be cared for. The soft, unflinching touch helped make the new limbs feel less unnatural, even if the weight of them were still heavy on his back. He felt unsteady as he sat up.
The hands moved from his wings to help brace Danny.
“Careful, you might be a little disoriented. It’s been quite a day.”
Bruce. Apparently he’d fallen asleep on top of Bruce. He hadn’t needed to embarrass himself any more that day and yet there he was, falling asleep on Bruce Wayne after a panic attack.
Danny pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes and hoped he wasn’t blushing too horribly. “I am so sorry.”
“For what?” Bruce asked. He sounded genuinely confused.
“Falling asleep on you, apparently.” And really on Bruce it seemed. Even sitting up and back he was still practically on the other man’s lap.
(Worse, Danny really just wanted to curl back up and sleep some more.)
“Oh,” Bruce said with a chuckle. “With how large a family I have, that’s nothing to worry about. I’m very used to being a pillow for others. Besides, you needed the rest and after today it’s more than understandable that you’d want someone close.”
That was… fair enough, Danny supposed. He took a deep breath and lowered his hands to cross them over his bare chest. He offered Bruce an apologetic little smile. “Still…”
“Still nothing,” Bruce said and waved the matter aside. “Now, Jason and Dick are back from your place. They weren’t able to find any clothing that would work around your wings there.”
Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Ah, they wouldn’t. I haven’t… it hasn’t been long enough to deal with that even if I knew where to start.”
“Luckily for you, we haven an Alfred,” Bruce said as he leaned forward and and grabbed something fabric from off of the coffee table. “He worked his magic and modified this into something that should work around your wings.”
“Really?” Danny took what looked like just a well worn Gotham Knights sweatshirt and turned it over in his hands. Oh, Alfred really had worked his magic. Danny ran his fingers over the cut and stitched splits in fabric and the snaps under them. “Wow, he just went and made this?”
“Alfred is a man of many skills and not to be underestimated,” Bruce said with a chuckle. “I’m sure that he’ll ask you if it needs any changes before he does any other versions.”
“Other versions?”
“Something to sleep in and another shirt at least ,” Bruce said as if that clarified much of anything. “Since we aren’t sure how long the wings will last and you should be comfortable here.”
“He really—I mean I appreciate it so much,” Danny said as he pulled on the sweater quickly, “but Alfred doesn’t need to put all that effort into this for me.”
“You really can’t stop him. The comfort of people in this manor are paramount to him and he has something in his mind now to improve your comfort,” Bruce said. “He will think that this is the least that he can do.”
Danny blinked at that. “I’m a little scared of what he thinks I the most he can do then.”
“You should be. He is a force of nature. If you’ll turn, I’ll do up the snaps for you,” Bruce said.
Danny gratefully twisted, glad he was turned so that Bruce didn’t see his wince.
“I imagine that your back must be sore from this,” Bruce said, ruining Danny’s hope that he hid his pain. “I will find where one of the heating pads are for you to use later.”
“It’s fine,” Danny said quickly. “I don’t want to—”
“Danny,” Bruce spoke over him. His hands gently smoothed down the fabric under Danny’s wings. “You saved my family today. Even beyond that, my children seem to have become quite fond of you. You aren’t a bother. While you are here to have the help, let us take care of you a little, please?”
Danny chewed on his lip.
“If nothing else, it will help the children worry less.”
There really was no refusing that, was there?
“Only so people don’t worry,” Danny said. “And I do mean ‘people’. Don’t think that you’re hiding your worry.”
Luckily Bruce chuckled a that. “Hiding my worry is something I’m not very good at. And yes, I am a worrier. My children have told me that enough times that I accept the title.”
“Well, as long as you know,” Danny said as he stood. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks between the conversation and Bruce’s hands against his back and just needed to take a moment to just breathe. The wings shifted with the deep breath, rising and falling into a relaxed fan.
“I know that you have understandable issues with the wings,” Bruce said softly from behind Danny, “but they really are quite stunning.”
Even the back of Danny’s neck felt hot now and he rubbed at it as he cleared his throat. “I, um, thank you.”
Bruce gave a soft hum. He must have stood too because a moment later a hand brushed over Danny’s wings and then Bruce was beside him. “Let’s go track down some of my children so we can make sure they brought everything you need.”
“Right, yeah, that’s a good idea. Lead the way.”
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mountainsandmayhem · 2 months ago
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BDSMaid - Chapter 6
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Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love. 
CW: 18+ MDNI. In order to avoid spoilers, all tags are under the cut in small red lettering. Reader does have some body descriptions so more of an oc than female reader.
AN: I don't think I understood the term "labour of love" until right now. I'm emotionally exhausted yet so fucking proud at the same time. Thank you @lotusbxtch for fixing all my grammar and formatting. I also couldn't of done this without @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69, @alltheirdamn, and @for-a-longlongtime (even if you did just try to distract me with Santi the entire time LOL)
Word Count: 14.6k (sorry, grab a snack or two)
Series Masterlist | My Masterlist | AO3
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CW: use of petnames, mention of losing a spouse, mentions of child abuse (mostly verbal), use of nick names (baby, sweet girl, etc.), dirty talk, spanking, sexual activity in public, kissing, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), consumption of alcohol, mutual pining, mentions of falling in love, Dom/sub dynamics.
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You: 911, I need to go buy a dress, but ya’ll can’t ask me what it’s for Laren: no strings attached shopping? Fuck yeah!  You: I’m serious though Laren: Dude, I won’t ask you as long as you don’t ask about the hickey on my neck Jamie: Damn, my dad’s in California so I can’t leave the office. You: hmm…maybe we just tell each other one secret each Laren: oh sorry, forgot I have to vacuum my cat today, can’t shop You: fine, no asking about the hickey. Pick you up at noon? Jamie: Have fun. I need a sugar daddy. Odette: booo! I’m studying. Someone alert me when we learn about the hickey. 
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You
Laren’s jaw drops as you step out of the dressing room, the soft silk of the floor length black gown skims against your body. Your eyes trail down the thin straps along your shoulders and down the deep v that sits low on your sternum. You’ve never appreciated your small breasts until now. The risque cut has a soft and romantic feel. Somehow, so does the long slit up your one leg, stopping much higher than most black tie venues would find acceptable. You spin to take in the way the silk dips low on your back. Yeah, Joel Miller is going to love this. 
“You look stunning. I’m not gonna ask, but whoever you’re wearing that for is going to fall in love with you. I might fall in love with you.”
You laugh at her, watching as she tugs the collar of her sweater up to cover the very prominent purple hickey on her pulse point. If only she knew how ridiculous that statement really was. Joel Miller, your dom, falling in love with you. It’s impossible. 
The big box that you stuffed the small, pink and bedazzled box in snickers in your mind then taunts you in her uppity British accent. He loves you, remember how he held your hand so tenderly through that last orgasm? “It’s a date”, “It’s only you”. 
You shake your head and run your hands down your torso and hips, the silk feeling like water under your hands. 
“Wow, that dress was made for you.” The peppy store clerk says as she rounds the corner to the dressing room. “Oh! I have just the accessory, if you don’t mind me showing you?”
You nod and then look over at Laren through the mirror. The two of you haven’t been friends for that long, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s not wearing her massive engagement ring, plus that giant love bite; something is off. “I’m not gonna ask about the hickey, but are you ok?”
“Ya - I’m fine, why?” Her phone goes off in her purse for what feels like the hundredth time since you picked her up. She hasn’t looked at it once and this newest alert doesn’t change that.  
“No reason. I’m here for you though. I hope you know that.” The corners of her mouth lift, but that vivacious sparkle in her eye doesn’t make an appearance. 
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You spend longer than you ever had getting ready on Friday. You’ve shaved, exfoliated and moisturized every inch of your skin. You painted your fingers and toes with a fresh coat of pearly white polish, noticing that the skin around your cuticles on your hands isn’t picked clean. For the first time in your life, your anxiety hasn’t needed its usual outlet; picking and pushing at your nails until they’re clean. Even with the last few days kicking your ass, Mister Miller made it better, made you better.
After about three hours, you’ve completed the look: big loose curls, one side pinned behind one ear with a gold clip, exposing the soft slope of your neck that Joel loves to press his lips to. You’ve opted for a neutral glam look; a light smokey grey eye, flirty lashes, a touch of blush and highlighter and a nude lip. 
You keep the jewelry simple, just thin gold hoop earrings and two dainty golden chains, the accessories that the sales girl picked out. The first chain is the longest; one end loops tight to your throat then lays down your sternum, a small clip on the other end holds it in place to the lacy black thong you bought for the occasion. The second chain wraps around your exposed thigh. A few small crystals dangle off the garter. It feels perfect for a sex club, almost like you’re being tied up in gold. 
After wrapping the gift you bought for Joel today you debate taping the dress in place. It’s a sex club, surely a nip slip isn’t the worst thing that can happen. However, Joel would probably forcefully remove anyone who got a peek. As tempting as it is to witness that, you decide to save his sanity for one more day and after placing the last piece of tape you hear the rev of his engine coming down your street. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, it’s been weeks since you’ve heard that sound. That deep rumble will probably always fill you with an excited anticipation of seeing Mister Miller. 
You agreed to let him pick you up tonight since Odette is out. You slip your perfectly pedicured toes into black heeled sandals, working the small golden buckle around the ankle quickly as Joel’s shiny black Jag parks in front of your building. You watch from the window as he gets out of the driver's side door, flowers wrapped in brown paper clutched in his hand. A man that size doesn’t look like he’d fit in that sleek sports car. 
Even from your birdseye view from the fourth floor he looks absolutely gorgeous. You’re sure once he’s right in front of you he’ll be devastatingly handsome, especially once he’s added the gift you got him. Similar to you, he’s in all black tonight. 
The beep of his car locking and the buzz of your door go at the same time and you excitedly hit the button to let him up. It feels like hours before there’s a light knock on your front door. After a shaky breath, you open the door.
Fuuuuuck me, you think as you take him in and actively stop yourself from drooling.
He looks as hot as sin dressed in all black, the lapels of the jacket and the tie slightly silky against the flat black of the rest of his clothing. He’s the living, breathing epitome of JMKink right now. Dressed like that matte black letterhead he still leaves you notes on when you clean for him. You lick your lips as your eyes trail back up his tie. Fuck, you want him to wrap it around your wrists. 
He steps into your front entrance and the apartment feels so much smaller; almost like he takes up every bit of space and simultaneously sucks all the air out of you. His hair is parted to the side, trimmed neatly around his ears, curls perfectly placed. You’re sure it was effortless on his part, just running his fingers through it after getting out of the shower, towel wrapped low on his hips. Your mouth waters as you continue to just stare at one another. 
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Joel
“Wow,” he finally manages to rasp. His throat feels like it's full of sand all of a sudden. He clears it gently before continuing. “You look…you’re always beautiful, but you are…”
His eyes travel up and down your body again, he’s feeling lost for words which is not something that happens to him often. He watches your bottom lip slip between your teeth, waiting for him to form a thought.
“Sorry, sweet girl, I need a second here.” He places the bouquet of wildflowers on the small table at the entry then reaches out towards you. He actually feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you soon. The whorls and calluses of his fingers drag down the warm, soft skin of your arm gently before he closes his hand around yours. Usually, he loves how small your hand looks in his, but he’s finding it impossibly hard to break eye contact with you right now. As he steps in closely you smile sweetly at him and he’s surrounded by the smell of mint, lavender and something distinctly you. “You look life-alteringly gorgeous. I’m not sure if that’s a word, but wow, Freckles.”
You place your free hand on his chest and he’s sure you can feel how hard his heart is pounding behind his chest. Fuck, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear his heart at this point. He cups your face with his other hand and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the way you melt into him, parting your lips and letting him deepen the kiss. He swallows the quiet moan that you make just for him. You pull away too quickly for him, an excited smile across your face.
“I got you something!” You spin and he’s left breathless again by the low back of the dress and the way the silk skirt sways with your hips. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, following you into the living area of your small apartment. “I don’t want you spending your money on me, sweetheart.”
You spin again and his cock twitches as he catches just how high the slit of the skirt is, and the golden jewelry wrapped around your thigh. In your hands is a large, light brown box tied with a black ribbon. “Technically, I spent your money on you,” you say with a wink. “Open it.”
He steps in close, watching your face go from excited to downright giddy as he pulls at the ribbon. He slips the lid off the box and stares down at the exact same black Stetson that he sent with Tiffany. His heart stops beating as the memories, both good and bad, flood through him. This is the same hat he wore the night he met her, the night of their first date, the night he told her he loved her for the first time, the night he married her. Joel Miller doesn’t believe in signs from the universe, but this? This is something. 
No, he thinks as emotions start to clog his throat. This was Tiffany. 
He blinks away the tears that threaten to form behind his eyes and whispers your name. “Thank you, sweetheart. I - I used to have a hat just like this.”
When he looks back at you your brows are furrowed together, a genuine curiosity across your face. “Used to?”
He clears his throat again, “Yea, it’s complicated, but this - this means more to me than you could ever know.”
He slips his hands into the box, the felt of the brim spreads a warm comfort up his hands and forearms. He swallows hard as he realizes it’s the same comfort he feels when he has you in his arms. 
Oh my god…I think, no, I know. I love you.
It hits him so hard that he has to clutch the hat tighter in his hands to ground himself as he pulls it from the box. He knew he was falling, he knew the second he saw you. He can’t push it down anymore. 
“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Joel.”
He turns the hat over in his hands, the black satin liner exactly like his old one. He looks up at you, no longer able to stop the smile or the tears that flood his lash line. Your lips part as your eyes dance around his. 
“No, baby, you didn’t. I’ve, well, I’ve been really missing this hat lately.”
“You gonna try it on, cowboy?” The sultry flirtiness of your voice feels sweet on his skin and after a shallow breath he brings the hat up to his head. As the satin slips over his hair a calm confidence washes over him. His eyes meet yours and your flirty smile turns shy as you blush under his gaze. He’s whole again. 
“So?”
“I’m gonna have to fight the women off, I think.” You say softly.
He laughs, moving the box from your hands back to the table and then cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll only be looking at one woman, my sweet girl.” His lips meet yours gently, your tongue swiping softly against his lip as your slant into the kiss. 
I love you.
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You
You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you’d get from Joel giving him the hat, but his eyes welling up and his breathing getting all shaky was not what you expected. Something about that hat called to you when you saw it. When you picked it up, the soft felt against your palms reminded you of how it feels to be in Joel’s hands. 
He breaks the kiss with a sigh and glances around your apartment. Months ago you would have felt shy or self conscious about Joel in your space, so wholly different from his, but he has never judged you for anything, and you feel yourself becoming more and more comfortable with him which is not a feeling you’re used to. His eyes fall to the scratched wooden coffee table that you got for free from Craigslist.
“You have college letters,” he says proudly, looking back at you.
Your arms cross across your body subconsciously, like they’re trying to shield you from the possibility of being rejected again. “Ya, the last two came today. I’ll open them later.”
“Baby, let's open them! It could be good news.”
He looks so goddamn handsome, in a suit that probably costs more than the entire contents of your apartment and his new black Stetson hat. His expression is encouraging, that same look from his kitchen when you ate some toast; prideful and empathetic. 
“I’m scared,” you almost blurt, wishing you could be smoother with this man. “I don’t want to ruin tonight. If these are both no’s, I don’t know how great of company I’ll be tonight.”
“Freckles, I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want. But I think you’ll be thinking of the letters either way.”
“Ah, my consent stands even for mail,” you joke.
“Well, it's a federal offense to open someone else's mail so…” Joel winks and flashes a devastating smile your way. 
“Ok,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath. He’s right, you’ll be wondering all night what those letters say, and Joel has a way of making you forget, making you feel understood, important and cared for. “Do it.”
As if he’s a child on Christmas morning and you just gave him the ok, he snatches up the University of Austin and Berkeley letters, almost vibrating as he says, “Which one first?”
You start to pace the few steps of your living room, wringing your hands together as your heels click on the cheap laminate hardwood. “Austin, I’ll be less upset by a no from them.”
The tear of the envelope sounds like a dagger to the ribs as you go to grab the flowers Joel brought for you, desperate for something to do besides stand there. 
“It’s a thick envelope..” Joel says as he slides the letter out.
“Ya, I’ve learned that that doesn’t mean shit,” You say sardonically.
Joel laughs in surprise, “Always shocks me to hear that pretty little mouth swear.”
“Yea?” You ask, “Open the fucking letter, you’re killing me.”
Joel snorts as his strong fingers gingerly fold open the letter. His eyes shoot to yours, “You got in!”
“W-What?” You drop the flowers on the counter top and cover your mouth.
“Sweet girl, you got in. I’m - I’m so fucking proud of you.”
You stand frozen on the spot. It’s not the school you wanted, you want Berkeley, but it doesn’t matter what that letter says now, because either way, you’re going to be a lawyer.
“Oh my god,” you breathe as Joel's arms pull you in for a tight hug.
“Congratulations, baby girl.” His lips press to hair and you start to laugh. “What’s so funny?”
You both part from the hug as you fight to stop tears of pure joy from ruining your makeup. “It’s just…you know, for a second there I actually thought that I wasn’t smart enough. Me? I have a 4.0, I graduated early, I’ve been top of my class for years and I actually thought that I wouldn’t get in.”
Joel's eyes dance, a big smile across his face as he watches you fill a vase. “Open the other one.”
He keeps his eyes on you as he opens the next letter. As he folds open the thick eggshell coloured paper you plunge the flowers into the cold water, his face drops and you prepare yourself for the worst, “You got in. Baby, you - you got in.”
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You - Four Years Prior
“So what? You think that getting into your fancy university in Texas means you can just leave Arizona whenever you please? Your mom needs you, you can’t just leave.” Your dad is in his patchwork recliner, a beer in his hand despite it being nine in the morning. The hot June morning heating the small house to an uncomfortable stifle. 
“I’ve contributed as much as I can, dad. Two months from now I’m not going to have any time to myself. I deserve some time doing what I want.”
Your dad snorts, legs slamming the leg rest down on the recliner. “You’re an ungrateful little bitch, aren’t you?”
That should sting, it would to anyone else, but you’ve been called every name possible by your father. You see him now for what he truly is, a loser. He can’t hold a job, hasn’t been able to for years. When you were younger, you thought you were the apple of his eye. He’d show up to every school function, every award ceremony, all the little things. You were eight when you realized he didn’t even speak to you at those functions, just walked around bragging about how he was the reason you’ve achieved whatever you were being celebrated over. It was his time to shine, his award, not yours.
“I’m going,” you say, hoisting your duffle bag of clothing over your shoulder. You’ve always wanted to go back to California. You went once with your mother when you were nine or ten, and the minute you got to the beach and felt the warm sand between your toes everything went quiet. It’s called out to you ever since.
As you spin towards the front door you hear the groan of your dad standing up. Fear spikes in your veins, your heart slamming in your ribs. He’s never hit you, but with the redness of his face as he called you names this morning you wouldn’t put it past him. 
“Like fuck you are!” He bellows as a hard object strikes the back of your head, followed by warm liquid soaking through the back of your t-shirt.
One of your hands cups the back of your head as you bolt towards your recently purchased, and slightly rusted, SUV. “Get back in here right now you little cunt! You stole money from me for that vehicle, didn’t you?”
You can’t help but laugh as you get in the front seat. You don’t bother locking the doors, you know he’s barely out the front door without looking. He’s not strong enough, and definitely too drunk, to overpower you. You throw the vehicle into reverse and yell out the window, “You don’t have any money for me to steal, Doug!”
You hit his first name hard, knowing damn well how much it will enrage him. You drive away without looking back, and you only stop once for gas for the next ten hours. 
The sun is setting as you reach the motel in Newport Beach. You head straight for the beach, kicking off your sandals and letting your feet sink into the cool sand. Your phone vibrates in your pocket, “Mom” across the screen in bold letters.
“Hi,” you say sheepishly, still feeling like a child even though you aren’t.
“Get our ass home, right fucking now. You’re supposed to be contributing to this family and somehow you had enough money to buy a car? And a trip to California? Mark my words, young lady. If you don’t walk back through that door by this time tomorrow, I will come there and get you myself!”
A lump forms in your throat. You’ve spent your whole childhood trying to get them to see you. Contributing? None of your friends had to contribute, they all got to be kids. You’re going to be making a lot of money as a lawyer one day, and they can go fuck themselves if they think they’re getting a single penny of that money.
“I’m afraid I won’t be doing that, mother.”
“You’re in for a rude fucking awakening, little girl. Just because you were the smartest person here, does not mean you’ll be the smartest person anywhere else. The world is going to chew you up and spit you out, and your father and I will not be here to fix you.”
“I don’t see how that’s any different than now. Good bye.”
You hang up before she can respond and look out over the water. The sun is setting in a kaleidoscope of peaches, marigolds and lavenders. You block your parents' numbers before snapping a picture of the sunset and setting it as your background. A sense of calm washes over you as the waves crash along the shore. You walk towards the water and dip your feet in, the water washing away the last eighteen years of your life. You’re free.
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You - Present Day
A whispered ‘holy shit’ is all you can muster as realization washes over you. Your dream school - and you got in. You can go to the beach and listen to the ocean, feel the sand under your feet. You can feel as free as you did almost four years ago. You lock eyes with Joel. Can you really leave him? 
“I can’t believe I got in. To two schools. I’m going to be a lawyer.” Excitement floods your body. You can worry about deciding later, even though deep down you already know what you're going to choose. Right now, you can just be happy and proud. He reaches a hand out to you and you step into the living room to take it. He pulls you in, wrapping you in his strong arms. 
“I know I said this already, but I am so god damn proud of you, sweet girl. No one deserves this more than you. I want to celebrate this with you soon, please?”
“Well,” you say with a hint of mischief, pulling back to look at him, “We are going to be at the club.”
His eyes flash with something you’ve never seen before. “Ya - the club.”
“Oh my god. We’re late, Joel!” You push out of his hold. This is his big night, his five year anniversary of owning his club.
“Baby, stop,” he pulls you into his arms again and cups your face. “I don’t care. Just let me kiss you until you need to reapply that lipstick, and then we can go.” His lips crash passionately into yours. “I’m so fucking proud of you, sweet girl,” he gasps between kisses.
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Joel wasn’t lying. He really did kiss you until your lips were swollen and you had to touch up not only your lipstick but the bit of highlighter on your nose; he also needed to participate, taking one of your makeup wipes to his nose, chin and lips before opening the door to his Jag for you and speeding off to the club.
Upon entering the club, the two of you were separated almost immediately. Joel was whisked away to the stage where he, Tommy and who you assume is Tess are now. The stage is lit up as he gives a speech and thanks everyone. A glass of champagne is handed to you as you stand along the edge of the bar. Everyone claps and as he tries to make his way back to you is pulled into a handshake from a very wealthy looking older man. You smile into your glass of expensive pink champagne as the woman from the stage approaches you.
“Hi! I’m sorry for having to steal him the moment you two walked in.” She extends a perfectly manicured hand out to you. “I’m Tess.”
You go to introduce yourself and she cuts you off as she continues. “Oh, I know who you are. Joel will probably kill me, but we have all been very interested to meet you.”
“All?” you say, swallowing nervously.
She shrugs. “No one has ever seen him this, hmm, this relaxed before. He’s usually here or across the street barking orders. You don’t become as successful as him without a little stress, but since you came along he seems different. Happy.”
You blush, watching him engrossed in a new conversation, his eyes often meeting yours across the room. “Look,” Tess says, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “I hang around the Millers way too often and I could really use some girl talk. Is that ok?”
“Tess, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s girl talk.” You smile at her and then turn to the bartender. “Two tequila shots, please!”
She takes a breath, looking at Joel and then back at you. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where Joel wore a black cowboy hat again.”
You raise an eyebrow at Tess, this could be your chance to get an explanation around his response. You know you weren’t imagining his eyes getting glassy, and he did say it means more to him than he could ever tell you. “I got him that hat.” 
Tess’s jaw drops and panic rises in your chest. “What? Why? What’s wrong with the hat?” 
“Tequila first,” she says as the shots slide across the shiny black marble bar top. A shiver racks through Tess after she swallows, you don’t flinch. “I don’t know if it’s my place…”
“It’s girl talk, he’ll never know.” You state, sucking at the lime. Tess clears her throat and motions to the bartender for another round. The next time she speaks it’s a hushed, sad voice, just barely above a whisper.  
“He, umm - well, he had a hat just like that growing up. Wore it all the time actually. He had it on the night he met Tiffany, and pretty much every important day in his life since then. Their first date, their wedding. Shit, I’m pretty sure there’s a picture of Sarah as a newborn in that hat. He also wore it the last time he held her.” Her voice trails off and heartbreak for her friend lines her features. “He…she loved it so much that he sent it with her.” 
You swallow hard and glance past Tess’s shoulder to Joel across the club. The moments of time between each of your heartbeats are filled by memories of his reaction. Tess continues, “Look, maybe you're like Joel. Maybe you don’t believe in astronomy or signs from the universe, but I don’t think you finding that hat was a coincidence.”
You aren’t like Joel; you do believe in signs. You thought you were going crazy when you found that hat today. It literally called to you from inside the store. It wasn’t on display in the window. No, you heard someone call your name behind you and when you looked over your shoulder the hat was all you could see. Could that voice have been from the wife he lost too early? You catch Joel’s gaze across the room; something about him, even before you knew him, comforted you. As your mind starts running through the depth of what that hat means to him he winks, you think you might be falling for him. 
All of this means something. It has to mean something. Right? 
“Girl talk stays between us?” You ask shyly.
“Absolutely!” Tess exclaims, you like her more and more and can see yourself being very good friends with her, even if she is almost twice your age.
“Tequila first,” you say in the same way she did earlier. 
She clicks her glass against yours and then on the bar top before slamming the shot back. “I hate tequila,” she rasps while sucking the lime.
“I can’t talk to my girlfriends about this. I don’t know if you know how me and Joel met, but one of my best friends is sort of my boss and I would get fired from my job for knowing him.” Tess nods, and orders you both a glass of what you’re sure is very expensive rosé. “Sometimes Joel says things that make me feel like maybe we are more than a sub and a dom, but that’s ridiculous, right? It’s the heat of the moment.”
“Babe, do you know how long Joel has been doing this?” She asks gently.
You shake your head and take a sip of your wine.
“Years…at one point, being a dom was how he made money. He’s a professional.”
Her words feel like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach, bile starts to burn at your throat. The whiplash of thinking he’s falling, and knowing that you are, and now dealing with this is almost too much. Joel has moved onto a conversation with yet another guest. “Right, he’s good. He’s supposed to make me feel wanted. I think I’m just not used to someone being there.”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tess’s hand comes to grab yours, squeezing reassuringly. “Professional doms don’t say things in the heat of the moment. They don’t give false hopes. If he’s calling you his or struggling to follow limits, that’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.”
The silence after her words is thick between you. He doesn’t say things in the heat of the moment? You swallow the lead weight that’s made its way from your stomach to your throat, your mind racing through all the things Joel has said to you. My sweet girl. It’s a date. It’s only you. 
“Hey,” Tess says, shaking your hand to bring you back. “This DJ sucks, should we go take over the booth?”
You smile, grateful not only for her words of wisdom but now the way she’s able to stop you from spiraling. “Yes, this is a club AND a friday afterall!”
She smiles at you mischievously as she reaches over the bar for the bottle of rosé and then links arms with you as you both practically skip to the booth. “Owning a club is so fun, I recommend everyone try it,” she proclaims through a laugh.
When you reach the booth she waltzes right up to the DJ, “We need dancing music, it’s Friday, it’s a club, and it’s a fucking party!”
“Sorry, Tess. I can’t do that. Joel wanted background music only.” The DJ, who barely looks old enough to be in a club says, his eyes wandering to the low cut of your dress. A few months ago you probably would have been endeared by that look, but you have a real man now. A real man who loves you, says the sparkling box of feelings. 
Tess snorts and then tuts at the poor guy. “Joel won’t appreciate you ogling what belongs to him like that. So play Best Friend by Saweetie or I’ll be sure to let him know.”
His eyes snap back to his booth set up, one hand held up in defeat, the other pushing a few buttons and then turning the volume dial up. You and Tess laugh, taking sips straight from the bottle as you move to the dance floor. This is what you need, a friend to help you dissect what’s been happening. A friend who understands the dom and sub relationship, but more importantly, understands Joel. Does him having feelings change how you feel about university? You’ve always seen yourself going to Berkeley, that’s been the dream, but now? 
Maybe you should just end this now before your feelings grow too far out of control. The box of feelings laughs. You have no idea how deep you are in this, do you?
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Joel
I’m gonna kill that little shit. Frustration rolls through his body as the music grows louder and as he turns to shoot daggers at the DJ he sees you and Tess. Your beautiful face is lit up in a large smile as you sip directly from a $400 bottle of rosé. His anger dissipates as you move your body with a sexy sway, lost in the music. 
Joel moves towards the bar, never taking his eyes off of you. Your arms stretch over your head as you shake your ass, the slit of your dress exposing your soft thigh. His palm tingles at the thought of how good you feel against him. The smooth warmth of your leg against the rough calluses of his fingers. 
I love you. 
Joel orders a whiskey and then walks towards the edge of the dance floor, his free hand tucked into the pocket of his pants as he watches you. As the song changes your eyes find him and you crook a finger at him, when he shakes his head you stick your bottom lip out and give him big doe eyes. He shakes his head again as Tess hands you the half drank bottle of wine. The pink tone of the wine casts a romantic glow across your exposed chest as you take a small sip. His cock stirs to life in his pants, remembering how those lips felt wrapped around him. He shakes his head at you again and takes a long pull from his drink. You stick your tongue out at him and spin away from him, wiggling your hips while glancing over your shoulder. 
I fucking love you.
You spin back towards him and crook your finger at him again, mouthing ‘please?’. He stays rooted to the spot. Joel doesn’t dance, especially not to this kind of music. His heart flutters as you start to walk over to him, everything moves in slow motion, the sexy way your dress clings to your hips with each movement, the flash of your thigh, the slight bounce of your breasts with each step. It feels like hours have passed by the time you stop in front of him. 
“Please come dance with me.” You say, fluttering your lashes slightly.
He grabs the expensive bottle of wine from you and places it on the tall table beside him. “This is very expensive wine.”
“That was Tess’s doing,” you smile.
“I’m sure it was, because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His hand strokes your cheek and he clocks the goosebumps that rise on your skin.
“Please come dance, Mister Miller?”
“I don’t dance, sweet girl.”
You pout again and he wants to suck that perfect bottom lip between his teeth so badly. “What if you just stand there and I dance around you?”
One day he’s going to have to learn how to say no to you, but today won’t be that day. He takes the last sip from his glass and puts it beside the wine. You bounce excitedly on the balls of your feet as he holds a hand out to you. You lead the way, the dance floor now full of people, heading back towards Tess. Joel’s hands come to your hips as you grind against him for the last few bars of the song. 
A slow twang of guitar starts off the next song. Joel spins you to face him. “This I can dance to.” He whispers, pulling you in close, one hand low on your back, the other holding yours to his heart. 
You smile up at him, “Full of surprises, aren’t you, sweet cheeks?”
At this angle the brim of his hat blocks out everything except for you; not that he needs something to block out the rest of the world when he’s around you. I love you.
“For the right woman I can be, freckles.” He says warmly as you melt into his body.
The two of you continue to dance in a comfortable silence. He watches your lips as your tongue glides across them and just as he’s about to lean in and taste you you speak. “I don’t think I said this yet tonight, but congratulations. This is a huge accomplishment and I’m so proud of you and grateful that you brought me into this space. I hope it’s not too bold, but this has done exactly as I hoped. I feel - freer almost, if that makes sense.”
“Good,” his lips press to your forehead. “And thank you.”
Your neck cranes forward, towards the tangled mess of your hands against his chest. Your lips pressing to the knuckle of his thumb. The gesture shoots straight to his heart.  
“I’ve been feeling a bit bad though. You’ve had to go to two events for me this week.” You go to protest but he cuts you off. “What would you be doing tonight if it wasn’t for this?”
You hum in thought. “Any bar where there’s an open mic night or a local band.”
“That so? Do you participate in the open mic?” 
“No, absolutely not, but I enjoy music and watching people do things they’re passionate about.”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “Let’s go then.”
“What?”
“Let’s go. I’ve said thank you to all the VIP’s. Let's go do your thing.”
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You
“Can we do that?” You ask, trying not to let the smile that’s pulling at your cheeks win.
Joel laughs quietly. “It’s my party, I can do what I want. They can all stay, but the longer I stay here the more I’m going to be pulled away. And you’re the only person at this party that I want to talk to.”
That’s Joel speaking, not his dom alter ego.
The boulder is growing in your throat again as you croak, “We’re dressed awfully fancy for a local bar.” 
Joel smiles down at you, his eyes soft. You start memorizing every detail of his face. Everything surrounding the two of you went fuzzy the second he pulled you into his arms. This man, dressed in all black, blurs the edges of everything around you, sucking you in and making you feel like the only person he sees. The slow country song that you didn’t even hear starts to come to end. “I don’t care. Any more concerns?”
He doesn’t care, he’ll never care, he just wants to be with you. The box of feelings that's grown exponentially over this evening inches its way out of the shadows, and you can’t deny it anymore. 
You’re falling in love with Joel Miller. 
“Let’s go,” you say, excitement replacing the lump in your throat.
Joel wastes no time, peeling your bodies apart and pulling you towards the exit. He doesn’t look back as Tommy calls his name, only stopping at the front desk to grab your purse. You feel giddy, almost as if the two of you are doing something wrong. He opens the car door for you and then hops into the driver's seat. You pull out your phone, ignoring him as he comments on your cracked screen being a hazard, and check for open mic nights, finding one in a small bar just a few streets over. 
The bar is small, about ten tables crammed together and then a few stools along the bartop. The stage is only big enough for one person, a few guitars on stands, a stool, and the mic stand. The lighting is low, different neon signs above the bar doing the majority of the work. You’re way overdressed and the looks you get from the packed bar further prove it. 
Joel pulls you through the crowd towards the bar. You were feeling slightly tipsy dancing with Tess, but there is something so sobering about being pulled into Joel's arms. And now that you’ve realized you’re falling in love with him, his next question is very welcome.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“Yes, please.” You smile sweetly, plastering your front to Joel’s side as he squeezes into the bar. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”
“Two old fashioneds,” he says deeply to the bartender. You stifle a giggle, “What?”
“You just give me so much ammunition sometimes.”
He swats at your ass and then squeezes, not caring who may or may not see. It’s exhilarating getting to just be yourselves away from the club and you have a feeling you’ll quickly become addicted to this. “Mighty thin ice, baby.” 
The raspy voiced woman with crazy curly hair finishes her set as Joel pays for the drinks. It appears that most of the crowd was here to see her, a few tables free up and the place doesn’t feel so crowded. The MC for the night gets back onto the stage. 
“Alright, if anyone else wants to show us what they’ve got tonight I’ll be by the bar.” There’s a few cheers and some clapping as the bar empties out drastically, only about twenty people are left. Joel pulls out a chair for you and then sits beside you.  
“Thank you for the drink,” you say, bringing the liquid to your lips and taking a small sip. The warmth of it heats all the way down to your belly, a familiar feeling when you’re around Joel.
“Of course,” he nods, sipping his. “So? Do you come here often?”
You laugh, leaning forward on your arms, noticing the way Joel’s eyes bounce from your face to your breasts; now pushed together for him. “What a line! But no, I have never been here. I kinda like it though.”
The MC’s voice fills the room, welcoming a brave soul to the stage. A tall man in cowboy boots and a shiny buckle joins the stage, carefully picking a guitar from the rack before he begins singing. You can tell by the warmth along the side of your face that Joel is watching you and not the man on the stage. 
“He’s pretty good,” you say, looking back towards Joel. It’s almost unfair how he can still look so sexy in the neon glow of the lights above the bar. 
“Mediocre,” he says with a scoff and sips his drink.
You glance around, “Ok, well you listen to this mediocre man, I’m going to find the washroom.”
You feel Joel’s eyes on your back as you walk away. The gender neutral bathroom is surprisingly clean and you giggle to yourself at the interaction you had once Joel was no longer looking at you. You try to act natural as you head back to the table, sitting down and smiling at Joel.
His eyebrow arches, “What did you do?” 
God you hate how well he knows you. There’s no hiding anything from this man. Regardless, you stifle the fit of giggles that are right on the tip of your tongue, “Nothing! I had to pee. Is that not allowed?”
You raise your glass to your lips, trying to hide the smile as the MC heads back up to the stage. “You did something bad, I can tell.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have another performer tonight. Please welcome to the stage Joel Sweet Cheeks Miller.”
Joel shoots a teasing glare at you as you start hollering, “Woo! Sweet cheeks!!” You clap your hands loudly. He lets out a sigh, pushing himself up and then grabbing his drink before heading to the stage. 
He steps up, running his fingers over the guitars before choosing a black acoustic. He puts his Old Fashioned on the stool and loops the guitar over his head. Your body reacts in a way you didn’t think it would. Fire erupts on your belly, you take a sip of your drink to try to put it out but the heat of the liquor only makes it worse. He adjusts the knobs on the guitar after hitting the strings a few times and then looks up at you and crooks two fingers, calling you to him. You obey, practically floating to the man you’re falling in love with. 
Joel bends at the hip, taking his cowboy hat off and placing it on your head. His voice is a gravel filled whisper as he says, “I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours in that washroom you were looking for after this.”
“Yes, Mister Miller.” You rasp.
He stands back up, and clears his throat before starting. “This is, well, this is the largest audience I’ve ever played in front of so, go easy on me.”
His hand pushes back the few curls that have fallen onto this forehead before he strums at the guitar. 
If I ever were to lose you I’d surely lose myself
His voice is like stepping into a hot bath, full of warmth and comfort.
Everything I’ve found here I’ve not found by myself
He doesn’t break eye contact with you, only glancing away occasionally when he moves his fingers along the cords. 
Try and sometimes you’ll succeed To make this man of me All my stole missing parts I’ve no need for anymore
You stare up at him, lips slightly parted, as everything falls into place. 
And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me
You could go to Berkeley and do great, probably middle of the pack, but you’d reach your goals. You’d become a lawyer and leave school with a handful of job offers. Or…you could stay. You could stay and be the top of your class here. You could stay and continue being with Joel. 
Back when I was feeling broken I focused on a prayer You came deep as any ocean Did something out there hear?
The box of feelings starts to vibrate, making it almost impossible to breathe.
All the complexities and games  No one wins, but somehow they still played All the missing crooked hearts They may die, but in us they live on
You’re staying. You’re going to the University of Texas at Austin School of Law.
And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see  Our future days  Days of you and me
And just like that, the box of feelings explodes like one of those worms in a can of fake peanuts.
When hurricanes and cyclones raged When winds turned dirt to dust When floods they came, the tides they raise Even closer, became us
This wasn’t part of your plan, but you can’t let this go.
And all the promises at sundown I meant them like the rest
You hear his voice, ‘It’s only you, sweet girl’ and ‘your consent is the most important thing to me.’
All the demons used to come ‘round I’m grateful, now they’ve left.
‘Does it look like I own things that aren’t perfect’, ‘tell me, tell me you’re perfect’.
So persistent in my ways Hey, angel, I’m am here to stay
‘I’m here for you’.
No resistance, no alarms Please, this is just too good to be gone
You’re not falling in love. No, you’re already so madly, deeply, insanely in love with this man that it hurts and feels amazing all at the same time.
And I believe And I believe ‘cause I can see Our future days Days of you and me
You suck in a breath for what feels like the first time since he started singing, your chest practically heaving at the release of emotion you’re experiencing. 
You and me It’s just, you and me
You’re not sure if people are clapping, you can’t hear anything over your own voice in your head screaming out ‘I love you’ over and over again. Joel hops off the stage, his eye flashing onyx as he growls, “punishment time, my sweet girl.”
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Joel
The way your eyes sparkled as he sang and the way you’re following him now, your warm fingers laced in his as he pulled you gently to the bathroom, almost have him convinced that you feel the same way he does.
He locks the door, then jiggles the handle to make sure it’s secure. He’s shared subs with other men and women, he’s used the rooms for people to watch at the club; fuck, one time he even made one sub kneel completely naked at his feet while he sat at the bar of the club. But someone seeing you, something that is all his, ignites a protectiveness that he’s only ever felt for two other women. 
You giggle mischievously as he steps close, plucking his hat off your head and placing it back on his. “What did I say I was going to do to you, baby?” 
He watches your bottom lip disappear between your teeth before you say, “You were going to spank me.” 
He spins you roughly by your hips, pulling your back flush to his chest before walking you over the pedestal style sink. He watches in the mirror at the tell tale signs of your building arousal. Your cheeks flush, the pink creeping down your neck and exposed chest. He sees the way your eyes glass over, cock drunk before even getting it. Joel loves how easy you are to turn on, loves even more that it’s just for him.
No, I just love her.
He stops, the soft light above the mirror lighting the two of you up in yellow glow. The small bathroom is clean, but dark. White and black checkered floor with white walls; hopefully thick walls, but he has ways to keep you quiet while he punishes you. 
His lips come to the exposed side of your neck, hovering just above where he can see your pulse quickening. He hears the hitch of your breath as he inhales your lavender scent. He slips into full dominant mode, keeping his voice a deep growling whisper, “Hands on the edges of the sink, sweet girl.”
You obey him without hesitation, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around the shiny white sink. His eyes lock on yours through the mirror as he fists the soft silk of your skirt. His palms tingle at the thought of getting to feel you soon and his cock jumps at the thought of your heart-shaped ass being pink with his handprints. 
As the skirt crawls to be just above your knees he says, “How many should you get for that little stunt?”
He watches the goosebumps that spread across your skin. “Five?” Your voice is sweet and innocent with the ask.
The skirt starts to hike up higher, the long slit could give him easy access, but he’s playing a role right now, and he knows that the anticipation makes it better so much better for his sub. “Not much of a lesson in five. How about ten.”
It’s not a question and he knows you know it. He’d be lying though if he said he didn’t want to see if you’d fight him just a little bit. Brat taming is not his thing; granted neither is spanking a sub he’s fallen in love with in a bathroom of a dingy bar while wearing a six thousand dollar suit. 
A shiver runs through your body as he exposes your ass. The lacy black thong sends his thoughts into overdrive. God damn, what I wouldn’t give to fuck this woman, just once. 
“Do I have your consent to spank you ten times?”
You nod, “Yes, Mister Miller.”
He takes one of your wrists in his hand and brings it back to hold your skirt up and then repositions himself to be beside you instead of behind you. He takes you in, bent over with your ass exposed, pupils blown out. Your chest rises and falls with shallow, shaky breaths. He’s going to have to keep you quiet.
A hand clamps around your lips and your eyes widen. “If you want me to stop, drop the skirt. Got it?”
You nod into his palm as the first slap fills the room. Your skin is soft and warm under his touch as he makes contact again. By the third strike, his hand around your mouth muffles a squeal. The fourth spank lands on your other cheek and a quiet husky moan rumbles against your lips and his palm.
“You’re supposed to be my sweet girl,” he taunts as another loud slap fills the room. He’s been watching you in the mirror the entire time, enjoying the way you try to keep eye contact; but now, at the halfway mark of your spanking, your eyes are hooded with need. He looks down your ass, grinding his hips into your side at the sight of his bright red handprints tattooed on your cheeks. “Fuck, you look so good all marked up.”
He spanks you again watching the jiggle of your ass and how it ripples down your leg. Your back arches as you whimper quietly. “Atta girl,” he says proudly, smiling to himself. “Three more.”
Joel administers the last three spankings quickly, two on one cheek and one on the other. The sound of his palm on your flesh goes straight to his cock each time, he’s practically rutting into your hip bone to relieve some of the ache. He’s given a lot of spankings in his time as a dom and his body has never reacted this way. I’m so goddamn in love with her, I should keep spanking her for making me feel like that, but if I don’t taste her right now I’m going to go insane. 
His hand grabs your skirt while his other drops from your face. Your breaths come in fast, like you just ran a marathon. He guides you to stand and then spins you around, a hiss leaves your lips, “It’s cold,” you whisper, making eye contact with him. 
He takes his hat off and places it on your head before kneeling down in front of you.
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You
The cool porcelain soothes the delicious burn along your ass, but the burn quickly spreads through your body as the man you’ve realized you’re in love with kneels in front of you. His voice has an edge of desperation as he says, “I need to taste you, please baby.”
What is he doing to me? He has to know what he’s doing to you, right? Did he mean the lyrics of that song or is it just the only song he knows? However, at this moment, you’re just as desperate for him. 
“Yes,” you nod frantically as you speak, “Mister Miller. Please.’
His mouth connects with your lace covered cunt. Licking over the thin fabric, teasing you with light but mind numbing pressure. Joel Miller always looks good, tall and broad, tanned skin that crinkles slightly around his eyes when he smiles, but when he’s on his knees in front of you it ignites something low in your belly. His curly dark hair is soft to the touch and you bring your hand to his scalp now. He groans at the feeling of your hands on him and continues to lick at your clit through your panties. 
The black cowboy hat falls over your eyes, your other hand raises to hold it out of the way. Even with the decision to stay here for law school, you don’t want to miss a second of the salacious acts playing out right in front of you. 
“Oh god, Mister Miller,” you whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible. 
He moves to kiss at your thigh, hooking a finger around the gusset of your soaked lace. “This fucking garter, sweet girl. Been drivin’ me crazy all night,” he growls between kisses.
He pulls your panties to the side and your nipples harden under your dress as the cool air hits your throbbing pussy. “Fuck,” he practically whimpers. “You smell so good. Taste so good, too.”
His mouth latches around your clit, sucking it between his lips and everything goes fuzzy as the burn in your lower belly starts to spread. “Ohgodohgood, f-fuck.”
The tip of his tongue flicks against your swollen aching clit with each suck and you start to panic over how you’re going to keep quiet while you come. One of his fingers that pulls your thong out of the way teases at your entrance, gathering your arousal, before he pushes it inside of you to the first knuckle. He looks up at you, eyes flushed onyx as he swallows down everything you give him. 
“Mister Miller,” you hum as he pushes his forefinger the rest of the way in. When he curls it forward you release the grip on his salt and pepper curls and clamp your hand around your mouth.
He pulls away, a dimple carving out his cheek as he smirks. “Feels that good?” He flicks gently at your clit and you moan in agreement into your hand. “Good fuckin’ girl.”
Joel sucks your clit back into his mouth, pumping his thick finger against the spongy spot that makes you melt and the heat bursts into tingling pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you fight to keep quiet, grinding your hips unabashedly against Joel’s face. He’s relentless with his ministrations and you bite at your palm as another wave rolls through you. 
The spasms of your pussy around his finger slow and you’re finally composed enough to drop your hand, grabbing his shoulder as your knees threaten to give out. Joel slips his finger out from you, placing light, lingering kisses on your mound before standing. His hands find your hips, holding you steady. 
“Kiss me,” you slur, feeling drunk off the pleasure.
Your arms loop around his neck as he kisses you. His lips taste like you and you lick at the heady sweetness. You slant your head, kissing him deeper. His body goes soft, relaxing into the kiss. You could do this with him forever, and for once it’s not the box of feelings saying that. The contents of that box have coated your entire brain with the love it housed for the man you’re not even supposed to know exists. The two of you break apart, both panting for air. You break the silence first.
“Take me to the club.”
“We can’t go back there. I’ll just get sucked back into the crowd.” His nose runs up and down yours, dark chocolate brown eyes never leaving yours. 
“I need more, Mister Miller. Please, take me.”
“Shit,” he huffs. “Come with me.”
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Joel
This is so incredibly stupid, he thinks as he pulls into his neighborhood. The moment the two of you got back into his car you leaned over onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. He should take you to your apartment. You must be exhausted from all the studying and working you’ve been doing. Plus, he kept you out late for two nights. He pulls up onto his driveway, and the slight bump from the curb causes you to stir. He parks in the driveway and watches as you blink and register where you are. 
“I can take you home if you want.”
“No, I want to be with you.” Your eyes widen and you start to do that thing where you ramble, only to dig yourself deeper.
Joel chuckles and then leans forward, pressing your lips to your forehead to stop you. “I knew what you meant, baby girl.”
He gets out of the car and then comes around to open your door. When you left the bar tonight you tried to open your door, again, and he scolded you gently. He smiles to himself that you’ve listened finally, that or you’re just too tired and he should really be taking you home. But when he helps you out of the car and meets your gaze again you look anything but tired. Need and arousal flood his system as he takes you in, lips slightly parted and eyes dancing around his face. Your words from the bathroom ring in his ears. I need more, Mister Miller.
He snaps, lips slamming against yours, your hands immediately finding the curls at the nape of his neck; the only hair you can reach because of the cowboy hat still proudly perched on top of his head. He lifts you, moaning at the feeling of your toned thighs wrapping around his waist. He moves on instinct, closing the car door and walking into the house while the two of you fervently kiss in a mix of tongue and teeth. You nip at his bottom lip as he walks into the marble foyer. He closes the garage entry door and presses you against it, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, His cock is painfully hard behind his pants.
“I need you,” you whine after your lip is free from his mouth.
“What do you need?”
You kiss at his neck, hands moving to loosen his tie. “I need you to fuck me, please, Mister Miller.”
I love you. 
He keeps you pinned to the door, his one hand grabbing yours and pinning them above your head. How many times is he going to have you in the position, fighting against what you’re begging for? Hopefully, it never stops.
“My sweet girl, you know I can’t do that.” It physically hurts him to turn you down.
You pout at him before speaking, “Then just be naked with me, I need to feel your skin on mine. Please?”
He kisses you again and starts to move the two of you towards the stairs. Between kisses, he says, “What happened to that shy girl who couldn’t even tell me she wanted me to dominate her?” 
You laugh against his lips, “She’s been corrupted.”
“I’m a bad man,” he hums with a laugh and walks up the stairs with you plastered to his chest; one hand around the globes of your ass, the other tucking your head into his neck so he can see where he’s stepping. The moment you reach the top of the stairs he pulls your face back to his to kiss you again.
“This is where it happened,” you say, as he passes the office. 
“Where what happened?” He says, pulling back to look at you, his eyebrows draw in in confusion and the black Stetson he forgot he was wearing falls forward slightly. You take the hat off his head, looking at him all wide-eyed and amused. 
“The corruption,” you say with a wink. Joel snorts in response and then his lips are back on yours. He has missed having this mix of passion and humour with someone.
When he passes over the threshold of his bedroom he places you on your feet. He told himself he wouldn’t ever have you here. No, not told, promised, because he knew what having here would mean. But you made him fall in love with you anyway. The air in the bedroom feels thicker, and his breathing quickens as he looks at you. The only light that trickles in is from the hallway. He takes in your sparkling eyes, your lips, puffy from his kisses and light nips; the perfect curls of your hair are slightly dishevelled and truthfully - he has never found you more beautiful. 
I love you. 
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You
Butterflies assault your stomach as you stare at Joel. He takes the hat from you and tosses it gently on the foot of the bed behind you. The room is deafeningly silent, only the sounds of both of your quickened breathing and thundering heartbeats fill the void. You stand frozen, the heels of your strappy black sandals sinking into the plush carpet of his bedroom. You remember when you carried his sheets to the washing machine just a few weeks ago, being surrounded by the delicious scents of ash and leather. You had no idea who Joel was then, the man in this house was just a fantasy in your mind. You wait for him to make the first move. Finally, his thick fingers find the zipper along your side. 
“Are you sure about this?” He says, his voice is hoarse, and you can tell he’s nervous. You wish knowing that would calm you, but truthfully it just makes your heart burst even more. This morning, the thought of anyone, but especially Joel, having feelings for you was ridiculous, but now you aren’t so sure it’s that absurd after all.
“Yes, Mister Miller. I just - I need…” he watches you patiently. Playing with the small metal zipper pull. 
“Don’t be shy, sweet girl. Just tell me what you need.” 
“I need to feel your skin against mine. Please.” 
He pulls at the zipper as his lips meet your neck. “I love when you ask so politely. My good girl, aren’t you?” 
“Mm-hmm,” you hum, fighting the sway of your legs to stay upright. 
If he’s calling you yours, that’s Joel speaking. Not his dom alter ego. 
Joel’s fingers come to the thin straps along your shoulders. The warmth of his hands against your skin causes you to shiver. He drags the straps down your arms and then frowns at the tape holding the dress to your chest. He tugs gently and you gasp at the pull of the tape. Before you can protest, the sting is soothed by his lips, kissing the sore, pink skin. He does the same thing after tugging the other side and the silky black dress pools at your feet. 
You watch the muscles of Joel’s throat flex as he swallows, eyes trailing down your body. “Turn around.”
You spin on the balls of your feet, careful to not catch your heels on the carpet. “So you need to feel me, is that right, sweet girl?” 
You nod your head. “Yes, Mister Miller.” 
One of his hands comes to gently rest on your shoulder and instinctively lean into his touch. His fingers whirl around as he traces down your shoulder blade and then back up to your neck. “I can’t believe how beautiful you looked tonight. I kept getting pulled away from you every time I tried to get back to you. It was killing me to be away from you.” 
You let your eyes close as his fingers run down your spinal column. You feel his heat leave your back and then his lips sponge kisses along the globes of your ass, his hands holding your hips possessively.
“You were such a good girl tonight. Outside of the little singing stunt,” he says between kisses. Every spot that took the punishment of his palm is given attention. “But you paid for that, didn’t you sweet girl?” 
You giggle quietly before saying. “Yes, Mister Miller. Thank you, but I can’t promise I won’t do it again.” 
“Good,” he laughs, standing up behind you. You hear the unmistakable sound of his silk tie being pulled off. “Because I don’t want you to ever stop teasing me.” 
He tosses the tie towards his dresser. Before you know it, he’s spun you around and lifted you into his arms again. Your body knows just what to do, your legs clamping around his waist on their own. He captures the squeak that leaves your lips with his mouth. Nothing makes you melt faster than the feel of Joel’s lips on yours. They’re soft but firm, his tongue warm against yours as he takes what he wants from you and there’s no way you’re not going to let him. 
He sits you on the dresser and plants his hands on each side of you as your hands move to work the buttons on his shirt. His lips never leave yours. 
“I need you,” you whine as you get the first few buttons undone. The heat of his chest skimming against your fingertips has a fresh wave of arousal coat your already soaked pussy. 
Joel moans needily at your confession as he pulls back slightly. He rips at his shirt, buttons burst before he tears it off and stands shirtless in front of you. Your eyes trail down his strong broad chest, stopping on the prominent bulge behind his pants. Your hands fly to his belt. He watches you with rapt fascination as you work the buckle and then the button of his pants. 
As you move to the zipper, his fingers go to the lace of your panties. He growls as he splits the fabric. 
“Joel!” You gasp. “Those were thirty dollars!” 
He grabs your leg, placing the ball of your foot on his chest,unbuckling your shoe. “I just ruined an $800 dress shirt. I’ll buy you more.” 
The shoe hits the floor and he grabs your other foot, his eyes locking to yours as he commands, “And it’s Mister Miller. I’ve been lenient with you. Another mistake and you will be punished - severely.” 
For such harsh words, he’s being so careful with the small golden buckle on your shoe. “Yes, Mister Miller,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes innocently. 
“Feet up on the dresser. Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.” 
You lean back slightly, hands being used as an anchor behind you, placing your heels on the edge of the dresser. Cool air hits your drenched cunt and you fight yet another shiver. You’re spread wide for Joel, every single thing on display for him. He looks at you like you hung the moon and your heart flips behind your ribs. You suddenly feel like you did the first time the two of you spoke in his kitchen, his gaze is too much, too intense, and it becomes nearly impossible for you to not yell out that you love him, so you look away, your eyes falling to his strong chest.
“Eyes up here,” he murmurs as he takes the smallest step back. 
Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. In your peripheral you can see his hands going to his belt, the sound of the buckle jingling tempts you to look down. “Atta girl, stay right here with me.”
You stay in his warm coffee brown pools, flecks of gold and honey appearing as the soft light of his bedroom hits him. I love you.
He bends slightly, his pants and boxers falling to the ground. You try to swallow once, twice, never leaving his gaze as the rest of his clothing comes off. You swear that time stops, the two of you are suspended in a moment that’s all yours. He steps forward and you can feel the heat of his skin against your entire body, you melt into his warmth.
“You want to look, don’t you?” he taunts.
“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.
 The soft tip of his cock gently nudges at your clit and you gasp. “Look down, baby.”
You peel your eyes away from his, looking down to see where his body caresses against yours. The tip of his impossibly hard cock, precum glistening as it leaks for you, pressing lightly to your soft and swollen clit. His piercing lays flat against his pelvis and you remember what he said about there being benefits to it. You try to memorize the sight in front of you. As filthy and debauched as this is, it’s also passionate and beautiful; it's the epitome of Mister Miller and your time with him. 
“Fuck, sweet girl. Your pussy is so pretty…and soft.” You watch as he wraps his hand around the thick base of his cock and rocks his hips. His cock slides easily along the warm folds of your drenched cunt, you swear you can feel the ridge of the underside of the tip as he says,  “Who has you this turned on? Huh, sweet girl?”
“You,” you whimper as your legs start to tremble.
“God damn,” his voice now matching yours, “How’d I get so lucky.”
This time you know he’s not asking you a question, yet you hum in agreement as his cock slides back over your clit, the swollen nub relishing in the friction and the feel of him against you. You hope he’s going to keep going, you want to feel him inside of you more than you need oxygen. Instead, his other hand slips between the two of you, his strong digits teasing at your entrance. He slides along your clit again as one of his fingers pushes inside of you. 
“Is this ok?” He whispers.
“Yesyes - fuuuuck, Mister Miller.” A bead of pre cum lands on your mound at the sound of pleasure passing your lips. 
“Such a good girl for me. Already learning how to take me so well.” His finger slips out as a second joins it. “She’s begging for it, tryin’ to suck me in. So tight, my gorgeous sweet girl.”
Your foreheads meet and it all becomes too much again. You close your eyes as his fingers finally fill you. “Don’t stop,” you whine desperately.
His hips pick up their pace, pressing harder along your most sensitive spots. You get that floating feeling again. He’s so close to exactly how you need him, how you want him. The voice from your now-exploded box of feelings adds, “For the rest of your life”. 
You keep your eyes closed, sparks of pleasure occasionally flickering behind them. You’re getting closer to your high with every press of his body against yours. You know if you opened your eyes you’d be able to fall over the edge, but you aren’t ready to be done imagining how it would look if his cock was doing what his fingers were right now. 
“I can feel you’re getting close, baby. Clenchin’ my fingers so hard.” His voice is full of admiration, not a tone you’re used to hearing in moments like this. You used to think that you had a first love, and while none of your exes ever mistreated you, they also didn’t look at you or speak to you the way Joel Miller does. 
His pace increases again as he curls his fingers forward, your body jolts up with the newly applied pressure behind your clit. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself, the inside of your thighs start to ache, but you’re not going to let your feet fall from the dresser. Truthfully, the burning ache only seems to intensify the pleasure at the apex of your thighs.
“Open your eyes, watch how good your pussy looks against me.”
“I ca-can’t. ‘M so close. I don’t - oh fuck - don’t wanna be done.” 
“Just because you come, it doesn’t mean we are done, sweet girl. I’m not ready to be done. I want you to come as many times as you need to.” He presses his cock down against your clit harder as he speaks.
Before you can even take your next breath your orgasm washes over you. It hits hard and for a second you think your throat is constricted, but just as the wall of your pussy relaxes and begins to flutter, a euphoric scream frees itself from your airway. You start to pant, your body falling back to rest on the wall behind you. Joel falls forward with you, and just when you think you’re about to come down from your high, the pressure at this angle sends the strongest wave of your orgasm through you and you begin to gush around his fingers. 
“That’s my good fuckin’ girl. Soak me.” Pride swells in his eyes as you chant his dominant name like a prayer. Your breathing starts to even and he slows his fingers and hips, ensuring not to send you into any overstimulation. I’m not ready to be done yet. He slowly removes his fingers, then wraps his arm around you to pull you up. Your feet fall from the dresser and the relief your muscles feel causes you to let out a pleasurable sigh.
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Joel
He needs more, so much more, but waits for you - taking a few slow breaths in time with yours. When he sees you coming back down to earth he slides the tip of his cock up and down. At this angle, there’s no risk of accidentally slipping so he runs himself along every part he can reach. 
“Kiss me,” you mumble, bringing your face towards his. He captures your lips in a sweet kiss, a kiss he’s sure you can tell isn’t the way a dom kisses his sub. He realizes at that moment that he’s never kissed you that way. No, he’s always kissed you with everything he had, giving himself to you piece by piece. 
More. His inner voice growls. I’ll never come back up for air now.
Joel whispers your name between kisses and you both pull back just enough to see each other's faces. “When we got here, you said you wanted me to fuck you. Do you still want that?”
He watches your eyes dance around him. Confusion, fear, excitement and arousal line yours before you pull back from him. He scolds himself for saying it. Of course you’re going to panic, this is supposed to be a safe space. He set a complete ban on sex before he even met with you the first time. It’s right there, in his dom profile; because that’s what he is, he’s your dom. You can come here and beg for it, because you know it’s a safe place where it won’t happen. 
He prepares himself for you to slap him or yell at him. Instead, you say, “Mister Miller, I don’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to. This was a hard limit for you, and where I very much want to, I don’t want you to break any promise to yourself.”
He let his eyelids fall shut, for the first time, he doesn’t want to be Mister Miller. He wants to be Joel. 
I love you.
Goosebumps break out along his skin as you drag your hands up to his neck, fingers scraping along the back of his scalp. “Talk to me.”
“Just call me Joel,” he says through the boulder that’s lodged in his throat. 
He feels your warm lips meet his cheek, kissing him softly before you clear your throat quietly and then whisper into his ear. “Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me or I might die or go insane.”
“Again,” he growls.
“Fuck me, Joel.” You say, louder and with more conviction than the last time.
He scoops you off the dresser, your soft naked thighs tightening around his waist and he steals your squeal with his lips, kissing you hard with hurried passion. He’ll worry tomorrow about what getting you to call him Joel means, all he knows at this moment is that he needs to hear that you need him just as much as he needs you. 
  He lays you on the bed, pressing down into your warmth. He can feel how wet you are as you grind up into him. His lips grow hungrier, kissing every bit of your face and neck he can reach, relishing in the feel of your hands running up and down his biceps, your short nails scraping his skin occasionally. 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks before fusing his lips to your neck.
Your feet fall to the bed and you arch into him. “Yes, Joel.” 
He raises to his knees, unclipping the chains around your body and then working with you to slip your ruined panties off. He reaches over to the bedside table to get a condom, using his teeth to peel the foil open and sliding it on. You’re always completely at his mercy, but this time he’s wholly at yours. One of his hands grips your hip, the other wraps around his cock as he takes in all your soft smooth skin, and memorizes the constellations that your freckles make along your body. Your breasts heave with each shallow inhale and shake beautifully with each exhale. Finally, his gaze meets yours, your eyes filled with every emotion he’s feeling. 
“There’s no safeword anymore, my sweet girl. If you tell me to stop, I will.”
You nod as he lines himself up, the warmth of your tight entrance calling to him. Joel pushes gently, your hips rising to encourage him. His balls tighten at the feeling of you wrapped tightly around the tip. 
“So tight, sweet girl.” He falls forward, both forearms beside your head to keep his weight off of you. 
The two of you rock in tandem, working more of him into you. “Oh god, Joel. More,” you moan.
There was a time when he told you to only call him Joel, it was the only name you could use that would keep this side of him from taking over. But now, hearing your voice say his name in the needy little vibrato, it’s having the same effect as when you call him Mister Miller. He’s sure you know exactly how he feels, and he’s now certain that you feel the same way. 
Your hips grind into his and pleasure spikes through his entire body. He’s fully seated inside of you now, your tight pussy squeezing him sweetly. He buries his face into your neck, lavender hypnotizing him. Everything he can see, hear, smell and feel is you. His sweet girl. 
“More, please, more.” You whine, circling your hips. 
His jaw flexes as he fights his body’s instinct to come. He pushes down with his hips to still you. “I need a minute, sweet girl. Shit - you feel too good.”
Your soft giggle at his confession causes your pussy to flex tighter around him. A shiver runs up his spine, “Baby, please don’t. Just stay still, please.”
He pulls himself away from your neck, his hips flexing forward. He watches your eyes widen as his piercing presses right where it’s meant to. You gasp and clench his hips with your thighs. He smirks, now flooded with desire and determination to fuck you until neither of you can walk. 
“Ready?” He says, his voice deep.
“I think - Joel, fuck - I might…” 
His animalistic side kicks in, he pulls out to the tip and then slams back in, swivelling his hips so his piercing stimulates your clit, which he’s sure still must be sensitive from earlier, before pulling back and repeating. 
“Think you might what?” He demands, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he fucks you.
“I’m gonna - gonna come.” You moan between thrusts.
“So fuckin’ needy. Aren’t you?” You met each of his thrusts with a flick of your hips. Even with the condom, you feel better than he could have ever imagined. All the things he wants to do to you run through his mind; he wants to take you from behind, or watch your tits bounce as you ride him, he pictures you strapped to the spanking bench in his room at the club. But right now he just wants to worship every inch of you. He wants to show you how you should be treated and loved. 
The words are on the tip of his tongue. I love you. 
He shifts his weight, one arm hooking under your leg so he can take you deeper. “Sweet girl, I want to feel you come on my cock.” 
“Fuckfuck don’t stop.” He peppers your jawline with kisses. 
“Kiss me,” he whispers. He tilts his head, parting his lips for your warm tongue. Joel starts fucking you faster. He breaks the kiss, “Come for me, baby girl.” 
“Are we going to be done if I do?” You ask. 
“No, baby.” He huffed a laugh, his hand pushing the hair away that’s started to stick to your forehead. “Never. I’m never going to be done with you.” 
“Joel - oh my god.” He feels you getting tighter and tries to distract his thoughts. He’s not ready to be done, but he’s not young anymore so he can’t risk finishing quite yet. “Your - your piercing.”
“Let go,” he says into your lips. He feels it then, that infinitesimal tightening of your pussy around his length before it begins to flutter. Your whine fills his head. He watches the pleasure fill your face, he swears he can see the clouds that form around your vision as you look deep into his eyes and succumb to your high. Your soft body quivers beautifully underneath him, “That’s my girl.”
The primal need to fuck you hard into his mattress simmers his skin. Not yet, not this time. She’s too perfect right now. 
“Tell me how it feels, sweet girl.”
Between pants you moan out, “So good, Joel.”
Your body begins to slow beneath him as your orgasm crests and he gives himself a mental pep talk to hold on just a bit longer. His cock is achy with the need to come, and it’s going to be slightly tortuous to stop, but he wants to take you at least one more time before you both fall into what is sure to be an exhausted sleep. 
His lips come to your shoulder. “I love fucking you. Your pussy was made for me.”
Your nails scrape at his back. “It’s t-too much. Fuck. Sorry…sorry.”
Joel stills his hips, releasing your leg and pushing his weight off of you, but doesn’t pull away. Your eyes are clenched tight, “Look at me, sweet girl.”
Your eyes pop open, pupils blown in pleasure and love. There’s no denying it now, he knows you feel the same. “Don’t be sorry.”
Your cheeks flush slightly, “But you’re not, you didn’t yet.”
“If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”
“You didn’t get to come yet,” you whisper.
“I don’t want to yet. I’m going to let you catch your breath and then you’re going to climb onto my lap and really learn what that piercing can do.” He winks and then gives you a small smile before slipping out of you. He rolls onto the mattress beside you, removing the condom and dropping it into the waste bin beside the bed. 
He hears you hiss, panic clogs his throat as he whips back towards you. “What’s wrong?”
You nod towards his almost impossibly hard cock. “That looks painful.”
“I’m ok, sweet girl.” He pulls you in, melting at the way your body molds so perfectly to his. He kisses your forehead, “You’re incredible.”
“You too.” You nuzzle deeper into him, your warm breath hitting his chest and your leg wrapping around his. 
There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence before you speak, “Hey Joel?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I think we should ditch the condom.” He pulls back as you look up at him, “You have a vasectomy. I have an IUD. We had recent test results as per the club's rules.”
Joel swallows. Not wearing a condom, even though he had his vasectomy over a decade ago, has never been an option. Another rule of JMKink is that you have to be wearing a condom during all penetrative activities; even if the person you’re fucking is your husband or wife. It hits Joel then that the only person he’s felt that intimately before is Tiffany. 
“Are you sure? I know the chances of getting pregnant are very slim, but you got into law school today, I don’t want to risk anything.”
“I’m sure,” you hum. “I’m also sure that you should put that cowboy hat back on for the next round.”
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Next Chapter
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burrowdarling · 2 months ago
Text
Masked Up (18+)
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Summary: A request for a particular Halloween costume turns into so much more
Pairing: Joe Burrow x gf!reader
Warning: smut, language, oral, ghostface!Joe, masked man, dom!Joe x sub!reader, light choking, praise, light degradation
Note: Hi! Wow, I got this out way faster than I was expecting to. This is my first smutty Joe fic that I've written and I hope you all like it. With that being said, this fic is 18+. NSWF, MDNI, all of the things, etc. I tried my best and I hope you all enjoy it right in time for Halloween!
p.s thank you to the anon for suggesting ghostface!joe
Word Count: 3k
Check out my Masterlist here!
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It was a cozy fall evening at home for Joe and I, a rarity during the season. We were both snuggled up on the couch, I was lying between Joe’s legs with my back to his chest and a blanket draped over us both. To get into the spirit with Halloween around the corner, Joe decided it would be a good idea to watch a scary movie. The first one he found was Scream.
While the movie played in the background, Joe and I talked about the upcoming Halloween get together we were planning with some of our friends. It was going to be our first Halloween together and I wanted to do something special for it. Joe, being more introverted and as costume-opposed as he was, agreed because ‘it would make me happy’.
“You could always do something simple like one of those masks or something” feeling myself get excited as I said the idea out loud. That had been one of my newly discovered kinks, never trying it myself before, but finding something about it to be extremely hot. Knowing it would be Joe underneath the mask, letting him do what pleased to me under a façade. I hadn’t said anything to Joe yet, not that I feel like he would necessarily judge me for it, but it wasn’t the most traditional kink out there.
“You mean like that ghost one or something?” Joe questioned, oblivious to how his words were affecting me. I squeezed me thighs closer together at the thought of Joe masked up and fucking me senseless. 
I must’ve been lost in my thoughts longer than I thought, Joe nudging my back from behind waiting on a response.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I questioned, voice slightly labored.
“I asked if you wanted me to wear a Ghostface mask for the party. I’m not big on costumes, but I could make something work with that” Joe stated, feeling content with the idea. 
I could feel my cheeks heating up at the thought, mumbling something into the blanket. Joe looked at me confused, pulling the blanket down to see my rosy cheeks.
“What’d you say babe, I can’t hear you when you’re mumbling” he looked at me, eyes soft and waiting for an answer. 
It was now or never, the worst that could happen would be him saying no. 
“I feel like you would look hot dressed up as Ghostface” I spoke quickly, darting back under the blanket to hide my embarrassment for, what I felt like, would be the inevitable judgement I’d get for the confession.
“Hey, hey why are you hiding on me? There’s no need to get all shy on me now” Joe said with a light chuckle, pulling the blanket back from my face yet again. Flushed cheeks and shallow breathing an obvious indicator of the thoughts on my mind. It was a miracle Joe hadn’t pointed that out yet.
“I think I could make that work for you, I could make a pretty hot Ghostface huh” Joe said, pulling me back against him and turning his attention back to the tv. I felt my desire growing, images of Joe in the mask flooding my thoughts for the remainder of the evening. I couldn’t wait for the party.
The next day
I had just gotten home from work, excited to get out of my work clothes and ready to change from my skirt and sweater to one of joe’s hoodies and sweatpants. I was able to get out early which was a rarity and figured I would help Joe do some more of the decorating for the party. He had the time available and offered to do what he could, but I didn’t expect him to do everything when it was my idea to host. I slid my key into the door, unlocking it and shutting it gently behind me.
When I was met with silence, I called out to Joe, letting him know of my early arrival, just to be further met with silence. I slid off my jacket and took off my shoes by the door walking further into the house, looking to see if he was in the kitchen. I noticed that he had started to put up some of the decorations for the party, but I also noticed something else on the edge of the kitchen island. There was a bloody handprint made out of red paint. I continued further into the house, finding more handprints as I went, but not Joe. When I finally made it to the bedroom after finding the last handprint, I was met with an empty room.
“Joe?” I lightly called out, questioning where else he could possibly be. 
‘I wonder where he went’, I said to myself in my head, noting that his car was in the garage when I pulled in. As I was about to turn around to leave the room, I felt a firm hand slither around my waist, the other coming up to cover my mouth. I was first met with a feeling of fear in the pit of my stomach, but that soon diminished to desire, knowing it was Joe behind me. I could feel his muscles as he pulled my closer to him, making it harder for me to escape. 
His hand slid down from my mouth to my throat, grasping me to pull me towards his mouth as he leaned to my ear. His voice came through muffled, telling me that he must’ve listened intently to our conversation the night before. I turned my head the best I could and noticed that there was a mask over his face.
Joe turned me to face him, my breath hitching in my throat as I was met with a Ghostface mask and a shirtless Joe, his muscles on full display. Joe pushed me up against the wall, caging me in with his body, leaning his masked face down by my ear. 
He whispered, “looks like it’s my turn to play”.
It was so sudden; I was swept up into his arms and tossed back on the bed. It was quite a sight to behold, my Greek god of a boyfriend shirtless, masked up, and ready to do what he pleased with me. I could feel the familiar burn in my stomach begin to grow and the mess of thoughts going on in my head of the endless possibilities. 
I scooted back as far as I could go towards the headboard before Joe gripped one of my ankles, dragging me back towards him and lifting up my skirt in the process. He began to climb up onto the bed, his presence filling the entire room. I laid there before him, feeling defenseless and excited for what was to come. 
“Take your sweater off for me. Now” Joe demanded, and without a second thought I did. 
“Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Is this living up to your fantasy that you had in your head?” Joe asked his voice dripping with desire as I struggled to form coherent thoughts.
I quickly nodded my head, a grumbled yes being the only thing I could come up with. A gasp escaped my lips as he slid his hands down my bare thighs, forcing my knees to bend, hiking my skirt higher up my legs, as I laid back on the bed. Joe growled with approval of my evident desire laid out before him, trailing his fingers over my clothed pussy. He was looking at me as if I was an entire meal ready to be devoured. 
“if I knew this would get you this wet sweetheart, I would’ve done this sooner. You’ve been holding out on me huh” Joe joked as he continued to tease me. 
I could feel my patience wearing thinner the longer he held out on me continuing to tease my clothed center. 
“Please Joe “I begged, the need to feel his hands on me properly growing with each passing second. 
“Look at you, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already soaked for me. Can barely even form a sentence, you’re so needy. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours hm? Are you thinking about how badly you want me to touch you, fuck you with my fingers while I’m wearing this mask” Joe continued, finally sliding my panties down my legs, the cool air hitting my pussy causing me to shiver. 
Before I could give him a proper answer, he thrust his two middle fingers into me, pressing in all of the right places with the right speed and pressure. The best response I could come up with was a moan as my back arched up off of the mattress. 
“Look at my girl, already a mess from just my fingers. Think you can cum just from my fingers for me?” Joe questioned, voice low and gravely.
At this rate with how he’s been with me, it felt like a genuine possibility. With Joe’s other hand, he moved my bra up off of my tits to gain access, immediately pinching one of my hard nipples. I felt the familiar knot begin to tighten, ready to snap at any moment. 
“Cum for me sweet girl, I know you can” Joe mused as his paced quicken and began to touch my clit with his thumb. That caused the snap, becoming a moaning mess beneath him. It took me a good minute to regain my composure and come back down from my high. 
I looked up at him from the bed, reigniting my desire to have him again. 
“I want your pretty mouth on my cock baby before I absolutely ruin you. The only thing you’ll know how to say is my name” Joe __, his erection evident in his sweats.
A new wave of desire washed over me, eagerly getting down on my knees, wanting to obey him. I placed a delicate kiss over his clothed crotch, my fingers toying with the waistband of his black sweatpants while I looked up at him innocently.
“I’m not in the mood for games right now, baby girl you don’t want to test me” Joe groaned firmly, not wanting to test him any further.
“Yes sir” I said, eliciting a deep moan from above at my word choice, before pulling down his sweatpants and boxers all in one swift motion. His hard cock came free, causing my mouth to water at the sight of it. I gave his head a kiss before licking a stripe from the base to the tip, taking him into my mouth as far as I could go.
I created a steady rhythm, taking in what I could and using my hand for what I couldn’t. I felt my hair being pulled into a makeshift ponytail.
“I want to fuck your mouth so bad right now” Joe said, voice filled with lust.
I nodded, letting him take control as I felt my eyes begin to water from his thrusts, though he was still careful to not go too deep. 
“God I love how your mouth feels on me, but nothing will ever beat your pussy” Joe said pulling me up from the floor and back to the bed. 
He lined himself up at my entrance and pushed in slowly, giving me a moment to adjust to his size. At my nod to continue, his pace picked up quickly, thrusting into me at a punishing rate. My hands reached around to his back, my nails digging in to ground myself somehow. This caused Joe to groan and throw his head back with pleasure.
“Think I didn’t notice how you reacted last night when we were talking about the mask? I could feel you getting flustered thinking about me just like this” Joe said, voice rough from exhaustion. 
His comment caused my head to spin, bringing out my own groan at his confession. I felt him adjust slightly, allowing a hand to grip onto my throat, squeezing slightly.
“That’s my girl, love my hand on your throat while I fuck you masked up” Joe said his pace faltering slightly, signaling that he was getting close too.
“Joe I-I’m so close” I whined, voice breaking from the pleasure I was feeling.
“Me too baby, cum around my cock for me yeah? I know you can do it” Joe praised, luring me closer to the edge.
With a few more hard thrusts, I felt myself all over the edge, screaming out Joe’s name without a care for who heard. I felt Joe finish shortly after, his body falling on me from sheer exhaustion.
We laid like that for a little, before Joe lifted his head, taking the mask off and meeting my eyes with his blue ones.
“Hi” I said, voice small after the acts that had just ensued. My shyness returning 
“Hey” Joe replied, placing a soft kiss to my lift. 
He got up, pulling out of me, eliciting a groan at the loss of contact with him. He walked off to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean me up. He left scattered tender kisses as he cleaned my skin, cleaning himself in the process and getting back in bed with me. He pulled me into his chest and placed a kiss on top of my head, letting myself fall into his warmth.
I spoke up, breaking the silence, “I think that was one of the kinkiest things we’ve ever done” following my statement with a breathy laugh.
Joe chuckled in agreeance, “you’ve been holding out on me apparently. Are there any other secret kinks I should know about?”
I blushed, tucking my head into his embrace further. “Maybe that’s something we can explore together”.
“I’m definitely down for that”.
Thank you so much for reading, please send in any requests or comments. I hope you enjoyed!
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planetaryupscaled · 5 months ago
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May the Best Sister Win
Male Reader x Heejin x Nana
Tags: 9k, first time, creampie, oral, threesome, tw
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
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“Fuck me, please, fuck me...”
I buried my head into Nana’s shoulder, focusing all my energy on thrusting into her tight, wet pussy. She groaned, pulling me into her.
“Cum, please,” she moaned. “I want to cum together...”
Nana and I had met doing theatre in college. She was a beautiful, slim blonde with big brown eyes that complement her features, and her nipples stood pink and pointy on her breasts, which, though small, fit her slender frame. I looked down her body, flushed with coital bliss, to the triangle of trimmed hair between her spread legs, and her open pussy that made a slick sound as I drove into her.
“I’m getting close,” I huffed.
“Cum in me,” Nana said. “Fill me up.”
All of a sudden, we heard a voice from Nana’s living room: “Nan? Nana! HELLO?”
“Shit, that’s Heejin,” Nana whispered to me, rolling off me and throwing on one of my sweaters, which was large on her. “Quick, get dressed.”
My cock was shiny and throbbing, unhappy to be interrupted so close to completion, but there was nothing to be done. I pulled on some gym shorts.
“Hello!” Heejin said in a singsong voice as she burst happily into the room.
I think I managed to get my shorts up in time, but if Heejin saw, she didn’t react.
“Hey, Jin,” Nana said. “Nice of you to do away with that annoying custom of knocking before you enter.”
In my sexually frustrated state, I couldn’t help but notice how pretty Nana’s younger sister was.
Heejin was a freshman beauty with blonde hair that framed her angelic face like a young starlet. She had a petite figure just like her older sister, but with more generous curves, filling out a regular t-shirt with firm, prominent breasts.
“I got a call back!” Heejin happily bounced around, not seeming to notice that Nana and I were flushed and out of sorts from almost having been walked in on.
“That’s... great,” Nana said, hesitating. “That’s impressive, especially for a freshman.”
Nana had told me all about her competitive relationship with Heejin. The same sports teams, the same roles in high school, Heejin even went after some of Nana’s boyfriends back in the day. Nana hadn’t been happy that Heejin had chosen our university, and wouldn’t be happy that Heejin was challenging her for the lead roles in the shows that were once Nana’s uncontested. Still, their mother said they had to live together, so Nana could help Heejin stay sheltered from the worst of college.
“I’m sure I won’t get it, but it’s so cool to even be at callbacks,” Heejin said. “Wow.”
“Suho auditioned too,” Nana said. “He’s a lock for the male lead, I bet.”
Heejin looked me up and down. “He certainly looks like a dashing leading man to me.”
“That, and the fact that everything is easier for men in theater,” I said. “The bar’s not so high.”
“Well, I just wanted to share the good news,” Heejin said, heading for the door. “I’ll see you guys at callbacks! Maybe spend more time practicing, and less time having sex!” She giggled as Nana threw a pillow at her.
“That won’t be a problem for you,” Nana called after her, teasing. “Virgin!”
All we could hear was the sound of Heejin’s cute laughter as she slammed the door of her room.
“Oh, huh,” Nana said, studying the callback pairings on the sign-up sheet. “I have to do my scenes with Minsoo.”
Minsoo was a good friend of ours, a theater die-hard who would get the lead role every time if he were able to act convincingly straight. Unfortunately for him and luckily for me, our theater director Hanjae refused to believe him as a romantic interest for the women.
“Better than a random stranger,” I said. Minsoo was a good guy. “Who am I doing mine with?” I studied the list. Then my stomach dropped. “Oh, shit.” I was supposed to do the kissing scene with Heejin.
Nana saw it, too. “You and Heejin? Of course you two would be paired up.”
“I’m sure I can ask Hanjae to switch us.”
“No, it’s okay,” Nana said. “What he says goes, and you don’t want to make him mad.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Have fun. It’ll be the thrill of Heejin’s life. She’s always gone after my boyfriends anyway.”
Just as Nana disappeared to run lines with Minsoo, Heejin spotted me from down the hallway and came up to me. She was dressed in a t-shirt, as usual, but this one had a lower neckline, offering me a tantalizing view of her cleavage. From what I could see, her tits were perfect, soft and smooth. I tried not to look at them as she approached.
“So, we’re together, huh?”
“Guess so.”
Heejin darted in and kissed me quickly, just a quick peck on the lips. I pulled back, too late, surprised.
“What was that for?”
“Just to get the awkwardness out of the way,” Heejin said. “Now we’ve had our first kiss.”
We found an empty classroom ran through lines quickly. I kept stumbling over mine, distracted by the beautiful girl in front of me. When we got to the kissing scene, Heejin lowered her script, looked me in the eyes and came in close to kiss me. I caught a light scent of a sexy perfume on her neck as she tilted her head up.
I hesitated. This was my girlfriend’s little sister; wouldn’t it be weird to kiss? I mean, to really kiss? Heejin, luckily, made the decision for me. She pressed her soft, full lips to mine, kissing me gently. I reacted, putting a hand on her cheek and pulling her closer to me, our lips working against each other. She tasted like mint. It went on longer than it had to — her character was supposed to pull away, but Heejin didn’t. Finally, I stopped it.
“Whew,” Heejin said breathlessly, cheeks turned pink and her chest heaving. “That felt good, right?”
I was half hard and I tried to secretly adjust my cock.
“Yeah,” I said. “You’re —” I almost said “You’re a good kisser,” but I stopped myself. “I think we’ll do great in the audition.”
We were finally called into the audition room. Behind a folding table sat Hanjae, the theater director, and a few of his assistants. We said hi, chatted quickly, and then got into the scene. Heejin and I were playing secret lovers. I was the stable boy and she was the Lady of the manor, whose husband was unfaithful. In the scene, I approached her for the first time, professing my love and begging her to kiss me.
When it came time, Heejin pressed herself to me with a little less passion than when it had just been us alone, but the kiss was still electric. She pulled back at just the right time, her character berating mine for showing such rough manners. But I could tell by her rosy cheeks that the second kiss affected her just as much as the first.
After we finished the scene and went back into the hallway, Nana came up to us.
“How’d it go?”
“Perfect,” Heejin said, punching me lightly in the arm. “Once Suho got around his hesitation to fully kiss me.”
Nana made a face. “The less I have to think about it, the better.”
“Your scene went well, too?” Heejin asked sweetly, changing the subject.
“Sure did.”
“Then may the best sister win.”
“That little bitch,” Nana fumed, staring angrily at the cast list. She had run ahead and gotten to it before I got a chance to look. “She took my fucking lead role.”
My stomach clenched. If Heejin was the female lead, then...
“God damn it.”
“What?” Nana looked down the list. Her eyes widened even further. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
I had landed the male lead. Heejin and I would be making out and simulating sex onstage for the next several months. I can’t say I didn’t feel any excitement at the prospect, but as Nana’s loving boyfriend, I had to share her frustration.
“We can ask Hanjae to switch us up,” I said.
“He’ll never do that! His casting decisions are always final, you know that! The only way he’ll switch it up is if Heejin agrees to it.”
Right on cue, I saw Heejin’s golden curls coming down the hallway towards us. Nana hurried up to her.
“You can’t take the lead role,” Nana said. “It’s you and Suho.”
Heejin took in this news and smiled at me. “I’m happy that Hanjae made the right choice.”
“Heejin, I’m a senior and you’re a freshman. This is my last chance at the lead before graduating.”
“I’m sorry,” Heejin shrugged, innocently. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. If this is about Suho, then I promise he loves you enough that kissing me a few times a night won’t change that.”
“It’s not just about that,” Nana said. “This was my theater program, not yours.”
“WAS your theater program,” Heejin said.
With a roar, Nana jumped at Heejin, and the two girls fell to the floor, clawing and pushing at each other. I watched them get tangled up with each other, then realized I should probably step in. I pulled Nana off of Heejin.
“Hey, whoa, calm down.”
“You’re such a bitch,” Nana snarled at Heejin.
Heejin dusted herself off and got up. “Fine, big sis. You want me to give you the lead role? Come walk with me. I have an idea for a wager.”
Nana frowned, trying to tell if Heejin was serious.
“Fine,” she said, hesitant. “But this better be good.”
“Oh, it’ll be VERY good,” Heejin said with a look at me. “Now come. Time for some sister talk.”
I watched the two sisters walk away, deep in conversation. Heejin glanced back in my direction, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether this wager involved me.
A few days passed. Rehearsals began in earnest, but Hanjae kept stopping Heejin and me midway through our scenes together.
“I don’t believe the passion,” he snapped. “You two touch each other like robotic, not sexy.”
Heejin flushed with embarrassment. The rest of the rehearsal she was withdrawn, not willing to look me in the eye. We went through our scenes, but if anything, she was colder and more mechanical than before.
After rehearsal, I pulled her aside in the hallway. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” Heejin said.
“Don’t worry about what Hanjae said. He thinks you have to be mean to get the best performances out of people.”
“Maybe he’s right, though.” She looked around, making sure no one could hear. “Because I don’t know anything about sex.”
I spotted an empty classroom down the hall and pulled Heejin into it. She looked like she was about to cry. I put my hands on her shoulders.
“You’re doing a great job, you’re a great, and you don’t need real-life experience to get into the role. We’ll both figure it out, it’s only the first week of rehearsals.”
“What if I can’t figure it out?”
“You will.”
Heejin nodded, sniffling. She smiled shyly. “Plus, I’ve got you to teach me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You obviously know a lot about sex and everything,” Heejin said, embarrassed. “I can hear you and my sister sometimes.”
I didn’t know how to feel about that. Heejin flushed.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t listen, I know, but... it’s sexy to hear how much you love each other’s… bodies. I’ve never... done it, so I don’t know.”
“Yeah, Nana said as much.”
There was a charged pause. Glancing down, I could see Heejin’s nipples through her shirt. Did she never wear a bra around me? Was that on purpose? My cock was quickly getting hard.
“Hanjae said we really needed to commit to the role,” Heejin said. “That includes the romance of it, right? The characters are supposed to feel each other up.”
“Yeah, but...”
“But what? So you’re dating my sister, who cares? We have a play to do. She understands that the show must go on.”
Heejin took my hand, then guided me to her breast. As I felt the soft, firm flesh of her tits beneath her sweater, I realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I could feel her nipple hardening under my touch. Her breasts were unbelievably shapely even without a bra, standing perfectly from Heejin’s chest. I let out a breath, impressed. Heejin smiled.
“What do you think?”
“They’re... amazing.”
“Not too big? I know Nana’s are more petite.”
“You two have some of the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen,” I said truthfully.
Heejin smiled. “It must run in the family.”
“You’ve never been told what incredible breasts you have?”
“You’re the first one to get an up-close view. I’ve never even had a boyfriend,” she admitted. “I’ve been too busy with theater.”
“Wow.” I realized I was still cupping her breast and quickly took my hand away, embarrassed. She laughed that same cute laugh.
“You can touch them all you want,” she said. “It feels nice.”
I wanted to keep feeling her up. What guy would say no, in my position? But I cleared my throat and took a step back.
“We should get to practicing,” I said. “We’ll have to have something to show for today.”
Then Heejin said something I’ll never forget.
“Sometimes I touch myself to the sound of you two,” Heejin said, quiet. “Right at the end, when she’s begging you to cum inside her, that’s my favorite.”
My mouth was dry. “You touch yourself to the sound of us?”
“My sister must have a really amazing pussy, if she can get you to cum inside her so much.”
A picture of it sprang to my mind: two plump outer lips that sealed tightly, with the inner lips only visible when she spread her legs. A fuzzy dusting of light hair. Maybe a drop of my cum oozing from her. Nana’s small nipples, twin peaks further up her lithe body.
“Wow, you’re hard.” Heejin was staring directly at my cock.
“Yeah...”
She reached out her small hand to feel me. I inhaled sharply, taking her hand.
“Don’t, Heejin.”
“Nana won’t know.”
“I’ll know.”
“You’re just helping me. I need to practice being sexual for the role.”
I stared at her. Was she serious? What was she even proposing?
She took my hand and guided it under her dress. As she used her other hand to pull aside her panties, my hand came in contact with a wet, shaven pussy. I ran my middle finger up her hot slit, making her moan. Then I pulled my hand away, realizing what I was doing.
“Wait, Heejin...”
“Yeah. Let me do you.”
She unbuckled my belt and undid the button of my trousers, maintaining eye contact with me. Before I knew it she was on her knees, pulling down my pants. I wish I could say that I pushed her away, but I was horny enough to let it continue without protest. I wanted her badly enough to invite whatever catastrophe lay down the road.
Heejin took out my cock, which was harder than I remember it ever being.
“Wow,” she said with awe. “I guess I didn’t expect it to be so… big.”
She gave it a squeeze, then stroked it. I throbbed in her hand.
“I’ve never touched one before.”
“You don’t have to —”
Heejin sank her mouth onto my cock. The sudden warmth and wetness was heavenly. Her tongue swirled around my shaft and she slid her lips back up until just the tip was in her mouth. I noticed that she was still wearing lipstick from rehearsal.
“Give me pointers,” she said, her words muffled around my dick.
“Don’t worry about that,” I replied. “Just explore. I’m probably not going to be able to last for long anyway.”
At this Heejin smiled and eagerly set to sucking my cock. It seemed she took that as a challenge. She started slow, letting me feel the warmth and softness of her inexperienced mouth, then began to speed up. Sure enough, I felt the tingly beginnings of a climax. It was unsurprising; my girlfriend’s younger sister, a beautiful woman with a perfect mix of innocence and sexiness, was blowing me.
I swelled in her mouth, unable to hold back my orgasm for much longer. Her ruby red lips were stretched around my cock, working up and down ceaselessly. I watched my cock disappear into her mouth over and over.
“Heejin, I’m getting close...”
In response, she just kept bobbing her warm, wet mouth on my dick, taking as much of me in her mouth as she could. She looked up at me, big brown eyes that looked so innocent, right over a mouth full of cock, and I could hold back no longer.
“Heejin, I’m going to cum...”
I had barely finished the sentence before my cock began to spurt cum into Heejin’s waiting mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise but she kept on sucking me as I came. I shook, my hands going involuntarily to her head, trying to push deeper into her throat, filling her mouth with my semen. I rode out my climax between her full lips, cumming intensely until a small bit of my cum dripped out around my cock.
She looked up at me, slowing the up-and-down motion on my shaft, then swallowed her mouthful my cum. With her pinkie finger, she brought the one escaped drop of cum back to her mouth and swallowed that, too.
“Good?” Heejin asked, breathing hard.
“Best blowjob I’ve ever had.”
Heejin smiled and kept licking me. When I was sucked dry and she had completely cleaned off my cock, she took me out of her mouth and looked up at me.
“There you go. Nice and spotless for when you fuck my sister later.”
I didn’t know what to say or do. “Oh my god, Heejin.”
Heejin planted an adorable and sexy kiss on the tip of my cock, which shone with her spit.
“Now when I hear you tonight, I’ll know you’re thinking about cumming in my mouth when you finish in my sister.”
“It was a little awkward having to kiss,” I said to Nana at home. “But we got through it.”
Nana kissed me, long and deep. “Who’s the better kisser?”
In truth, my initial thought was Heejin. She had certainly kissed my cock better than Nana did. Or maybe it was just the forbidden risk of it all. Either way, I wasn’t going to tell her anything about her younger sister’s skill in the romance department.
“You,” I said, sweeping her into my arms. She grinded into me, making me hard, and I walked her to the bed.
Later, as I fucked Nana’s tight, wet pussy, my thoughts kept being dragged back to Heejin’s lips on me, her rosy cheeks stretching as I filled her mouth with my cum. When I groaned and emptied myself into Nana, I imagined it was Heejin below me, her legs spread, soaking pussy stretched around my cock. I imagined driving hard into her tight young slit and filling her up.
When Nana moaned out for me to cum inside her, I knew Heejin was somewhere close by, listening. And despite the fact that it was the second time that day, I came harder than usual.
The next weeks of rehearsal raced by. Heejin and I were so busy with school and rehearsal that we didn’t get the opportunity to be alone together, but she’d hold my gaze just long enough to let me know she was still thinking about me and what we’d done. Our love scenes onstage became more realistic, to the delight of Hanjae. We were now kissing, pawing at each other, and fake dry humping with ease. I suppose it was hard to hold back romantically once she’d swallowed my cum.
My sex life with Nana improved drastically, wound up as I always was from pretending to fuck her little sister in rehearsal. I fucked Nana like an animal, filling her up several times a night, cumming inside her with reckless abandon.
“You should be quieter,” Nana panted to me one night as I withdrew my cock from her cum-filled pussy. “Heejin’s in the other room, she must hear us sometimes.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Sorry.”
Nana reached down and caught some of my cum as it dripped out of her. She brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them off.
“You’ve been cumming more than usual,” she said.
I cuddled up to her from behind. “You’ve been sexier than usual.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, with a hint of scepticism in her voice. “Maybe.”
Before we knew it, the dress rehearsal had arrived. It was the day before the show, and everything had to go perfectly here, or it’d be a bad opening night. I murmured “Break a leg” to everyone I passed in the winding hallways backstage.
As the lead, I had my own dressing room. It was a rare luxury, but better than getting naked in front of everyone in the communal dressing rooms. I began to take off my street clothes when I heard a knock at the door.
“One minute, I’m changing,” I called out. I was only in my underwear.
The door opened anyway. In the mirror, I saw Heejin enter, wearing a robe and carrying her costume. She shut the door behind her before anyone could see her.
“Sorry to drop in on you like this,” Heejin said apologetically, “but I can’t get this bodice thingy on. Every time I try, I feel like it’s suffocating me.” She shook the costume in frustration and put it on the rack in my small dressing room.
“Do you want help?”
“Yeah, thanks. Maybe I’m just nervous, or maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that cheeseburger yesterday.”
I laughed. “It’ll be fine. Let me try.”
She hugged me tightly. “Thank you, Suho. You’re the best.”
Then she slipped the robe off her shoulders. Underneath, Heejin was completely naked. She wasn’t even wearing panties under the robe. Her breasts were like a painting. Smooth, firm, round, perfectly proportioned to her toned body. My eyes traveled down from her perfect breasts, firm and large on her petite frame with beautifully hard nipples, to —
“God, Heejin.”
Her pussy, which had been completely hairless when I first touched it all those weeks ago, now had a fuzzy dusting of close-trimmed pubic hair.
“Trying to copy Nana, I guess. Since you like hairy pussies.”
I didn’t think to ask why she knew her older sister had a hairy pussy.
I reached out my hand to Heejin. I cupped her cheek, then traced my fingers down her neck to her collarbone, then down the beautiful slope of her breasts, stopping to lightly pinch her nipple. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.
I brought my hand further down, down her stomach and over the triangle of hair between her legs, then felt the wetness between her lips. I slowly inched one finger up into Heejin’s little pussy, feeling how tight she was inside. I’d been in her mouth, and I’d touched the outside of her pussy, but this was as far inside her as I’d gone.
Just as Heejin leaned in to kiss me, hand going to my throbbing erection, there was a knock on the door.
“Suho? Can I come in?” It was Nana.
Heejin dashed backwards, looking for a place to hide. The room was small and didn’t have many options, but Heejin pressed her naked form behind the rack of costumes.
I cursed myself, trying to pull on my pants. My finger was still wet with Heejin’s juices, which wouldn’t do. Without thinking, I stuck my finger in my mouth, tasting her.
“Suho?”
“Coming!” I answered the door, just wearing my costume pants. I kept the door mostly closed, to stop Nana from coming in.
Nana was in the doorway holding a clipboard and wearing a headset. As the understudy for the main role, she had to have some role in the show, so she was a stage hand.
“It’s five minutes until showtime,” she said.
“Thanks.”
She leaned in to kiss me. Without thinking, I kissed her back, then cursed inwardly. I hoped my mouth didn’t taste like pussy. When she pulled away, I thought I detected a slight frown on her face, but she turned and left without another word.
I closed the door. Heejin, still naked, stepped out from behind the costume rack. She had the most beautiful body I’d ever seen.
“Five minutes,” I repeated to her.
“Thank you, five,” she said with a grin. “Now, want to fit me into this dress?”
It took some manoeuvring to tie the bodice up, and Heejin gasped at the tight fit that pressed her breasts up high, but there was no time to enjoy it. We had to get into our positions.
As Heejin quickly pulled her stockings up, I got a glimpse up her dress to her pussy.
“You’re not wearing underwear,” I said.
“I know.” Heejin quickly hurried to the door, her breasts bouncing in the corset. “See you onstage!”
The knowledge that Heejin wore nothing under her heavy costume dress made the onstage love scenes even more enjoyable. At the point in the show where we were supposed to simulate sex on a bed behind the main action onstage, Heejin whispered to me between kisses.
“This is the first time Nana’s seen us do this, you know.”
Sure enough, I could see Nana sitting with other crew members in the audience. Thanks to the lights, I couldn’t make out her expression, but I knew she was watching.
“Let’s give them a show,” Heejin said, and grinded herself against me even more sexually.
By the end of the show, I was so sexually frustrated that everything could have set me off. Heejin’s enticing young body was so tantalizingly close, yet so far. As we took our mock bows and headed offstage, Heejin whispered in my ear: “Wait for me in the dressing room.”
I waited for Heejin in the dressing room for almost a half hour. She never showed. When I finally got fed up waiting and came out, I found Nana and Heejin seated together. Heejin had changed back into her clothes, but I couldn’t help wondering whether she’d put underwear on.
“Hey, you two.”
“You took forever in there,” Nana said.
Heejin gave me a “Sorry” look.
“Great job, you guys!” Nana said. She seemed genuinely excited for us. “I think that went great!”
Heejin and I smiled and agreed.
“A couple screw-ups,” Heejin said, “but nothing that can’t be fixed before tomorrow.”
When we got home later that night, Nana pulled me away into her room. She was on me immediately, hungrily pulling off my clothes.
“God, you looked so sexy onstage,” she said. “I wanted to jump you right in front of everybody.”
She pulled down her pants, then mounted me, bottomless. She moved her soaking slit against my painfully hard cock, but stopped short of slipping me inside her yet.
“It was weird seeing you kiss Heejin at first,” she said, ���but by the end I kind of liked it.”
She angled my cock into her pussy and began to sink her tight, wet heat down onto me. My face contorted with pleasure.
“Do you get hard when you’re with Heejin onstage?” Nana asked as she slowly fucked me.
I was shocked by the question. My shock must have shown on my face, because Nana laughed and kissed me. We were fully connected, my cock deep inside her and her petite body pressed into mine.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s a physical response, not something you can control.”
My cock throbbed inside her. I was nearing orgasm.
“Tell me,” she said, speeding up on my cock.
“Sometimes, I guess,” I said, breathing heavily. I was going to cum.
“That’s okay, baby,” Nana moaned in my ear. “She can feel you hard all she wants, as long as you bring that cum home to where it belongs… right up inside me.”
With that, I shot off in her, pumping her full of cum with deep, powerful strokes. The feeling of me cumming in her set Nana off too, and together we came while I was still inside her. Finally, I pulled out of her, looking down at her tight pussy with open lips, between which my cum dribbled out. Nana lay back on the bed, her legs spread, still wearing her shirt. She yawned, stretching, and as she did so she lifted her pussy off the bed, causing another dribble of cum to come out.
“I didn’t realize how tired I was,” Nana said. “Come cuddle me.”
I held her until I felt her breathing become slow and regular, indicating that she’d fallen asleep. Then I got up and padded out into the hallway, heading in the direction of the bathroom, though I knew what awaited me before I got there.
Halfway down the hallway, Heejin’s door opened and she came out wearing a sheer nightie. Even in the low light, I could see her nipples poking through the fabric. Her eyes went to my half-erection clearly visible through my tight boxers. She beckoned me inside, and I followed silently. She pulled off her nightie, then turned to face me, fully naked. Heejin led me to the bed and pulled down my boxers.
“This is too risky,” I whispered. “What if your sister comes to check where I am?”
Heejin touched my cock, still wet and sticky with residual slickness from Nana’s pussy.
“Then she’ll see me tasting her on your cock.” Heejin licked slowly up the side of my shaft, savoring the taste of her older sister’s pussy on me. “Mm. Nana has a delicious pussy, doesn’t she?”
“Sisters don’t usually taste each other’s pussies.”
“I’m not getting it from the source,” Heejin said quietly as she bobbed her mouth up and down on my cock. “I’m still just sucking a dick. Nothing wrong with that. Besides...” I saw Heejin dip her finger into her own pussy, then bring it to her mouth and suck it clean. “I have to make sure I taste better than her.”
She resumed blowing me. Despite just having finished fucking Nana, I found myself getting close to cumming in Heejin’s mouth. She felt me swell and pulled me out. I was about to ask what she was doing, when she climbed up on the bed and spread her legs. Light came through her window, falling across her perfect body and her glistening, hairy vulva.
“I want you to fuck me. Be my first.” She said seductively.
As she spoke, she delicately dipped her middle finger into herself. I watched as her tight lips parted to accept her finger.
The prospect of fucking the freshman beauty was enticing. But I’d been spurting cum in her sister’s pussy barely 15 minutes ago. That was no way to lose your virginity.
“I just finished with Nana, I’m not gonna be able to go again.”
“I’ll blow you until you’re ready to put it in me —”
“Heejin,” I said firmly. “We can’t have sex.”
“But the whole show today, I could feel you hard against me,” Heejin said. Her voice quavered. “What is it? You don’t like me? You’d rather fuck Nana than me?”
“No, no, it’s not that at all —”
“Then what? Does she have a better pussy than me?”
“Heejin — it’s not like that”
I climbed onto the bed, moving up to kiss Heejin. As I did, I pressed my body to hers, feeling her hard nipples against my chest and her wet pussy against the outside of my boxers. I grinded into her for a moment, but stopped it before it went any further by beginning to kiss my way down her body. First her breasts, then her toned stomach...
“Fuck...” Heejin breathed. I grinned inwardly; two months ago, the sheltered freshman wouldn’t have been cursing. Now I was about to eat her pussy.
I kissed Heejin’s inner thighs, teasing her and making her thrust up towards me, trying to get me to put my mouth on her. But I kept kissing anywhere but her pussy, feeling the heat and wetness increasing with her arousal.
Finally, I licked Heejin’s pussy. She tasted incredible, clean and womanly, and she was so sensitive and worked up that it only took ten or fifteen seconds before I could feel her body stiffening in anticipation of an orgasm. I kept up pressure on her clit, steadily working my tongue in circles.
Heejin grabbed me by the head, involuntarily mashing my face into her pussy, then came with a great shuddering moan. I reached up one hand, slick from finger-fucking her, to silence her, but all she did was suck on my fingers while I kept licking her from below.
When she was finally done with her long orgasm, she brought my head up to her to sloppily make out. My lips were covered with the taste of her, but she clearly wasn’t shy about tasting herself.
“Oh my god, you’re amazing,” Heejin said, panting. “But we have to return you to Nana soon.”
Heejin put her mouth back on me, blowing me with eagerness. After making her cum with my mouth, I was pretty worked up. It didn’t take me long to unload in her mouth for the second time. Now I wasn’t so timid, fucking her mouth as I spurted cum down her throat. She moaned sexily and happily drank me up.
She opened her mouth so I could see the mouthful of my semen she’d collected. Then she put two fingers in her mouth, took some of my cum, and…
“Heejin, no —”
Heejin stuck her cum-covered fingers inside her pussy. I could only watch as she fucked herself to another small orgasm, her fingers taking the place my cock would have been. She’d still found a way to get my cum in her pussy, and gasped in pleasure as she worked my semen in and out of her already sopping slit.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Sorry, Suho,” she breathed. “I had to.”
“That’s dangerous, Heejin. You could get pregnant.”
“I don’t like when Nana gets things I don’t. And that includes your cum in her.”
Opening night came at last. I was overwhelmed with nerves, both excited at the prospect of putting on a great show and nervous to think what would happen with Heejin. The girl had been acting bolder and bolder, and I worried she’d try to do something extreme.
But as the evening before the show wore on, my fear faded. Heejin ignored me completely, focused on getting into character. Everyone buzzed with excitement and nervousness, and I soon was so caught up in it that I forgot almost entirely about the strange sexual relationship I had been building up with Heejin.
It was a function of the show, I told myself. Just us getting into character and letting that character bleed over into our real lives. But once the show was done, I would return to Nana’s side, Heejin would go off and find herself a boyfriend, and everything would be right in the world again.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
I don’t know if I even believed it at the time.
I checked my costume in the mirror of my dressing room one last time before nodding, satisfied, and joining the fray.
“Break a leg,” Nana said, kissing me briefly before heading out to the theater to find her seat. I watched her go. For all she knew, I felt as awkward as her about this whole situation. But in truth my feelings were more complicated than that.
Heejin and I waited with the other actors in the wings as Hanjae introduced the show. I looked up to find Heejin staring at me intensely.
I gave her “What’s going on?” look.
Heejin, in response, lifted up her skirt ever so slowly. She was standing behind the other actors, so I was the only one who could see. As she flashed me, I saw with a twinge that, like yesterday, she was wearing no panties. I caught a short peek of her pussy.
That’s when I knew things weren’t going back to normal.
The show began normally, everyone hitting their marks and remembering their lines perfectly.
The trouble came when Heejin and I fell into bed together at the rear of the stage. Our characters were supposed to be having sex under the nose of Heejin’s character’s husband, but while the scene went on in front of us Heejin kissed me and pressed her body into mine harder than usual.
Carefully, timing her motions with our stage humping, Heejin reached down between us and unbuckled my pants.
“What are you doing?” I said quietly, between kisses.
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“Shhhh,” was all she said.
I looked out into the audience. Despite the stage lights, I could see Nana’s blonde hair in the crowd. She was watching us.
Under the covers, Heejin pulled down my boxers and fished my cock out. I was hard and huge in her small hand.
“Heejin, no —”
Heejin angled herself on top of me, pressing her stomach into my cock, trapping it between us. I prayed that was it, that all she wanted was a little humping, but then she slid up me. My cock, still hard and flat against my stomach, came into contact with her hairy mound. I tried to move away, but she was on top and we had to keep doing the scene, or we’d draw attention and get caught.
I felt a wet heat come into contact with my cock. She grinded her pussy up and down the underside of my cock, getting it wet with her slickness.
My tip was slotted between her wet lips. She thrust her hips up and down, letting the tip of my cock run along the cleft of her pussy and come to rest right at her soaked opening, teasing me each time with a tantalizing dip of my cockhead into her pussy. I could do nothing to stop it.
“Heejin,” I whispered. “please don’t do this, look at how many people are watching... and we’re unprotected.”
“That’s the whole fun of it all,” she said. “I want you bare inside me.”
She began to slide me inside her. My cock parted her trimmed lips and pushed into her inch by inch, her wet cunt stretching slowly to accommodate me. She was soaking wet, hot and beautifully tight, the kind of pussy that made me forget every other woman I’d ever been inside of, because this one seemed designed for my cock. I went slowly, the pleasure coursing through us.
When I had sunk into her to the hilt, we stopped.
“There we go,” Heejin breathed. “Now Nana can’t call me a virgin anymore.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but at that moment Heejin and I remembered we were onstage. We had been so distracted by our actual sex that we’d forgotten to simulate it for the audience.
“We need to keep going,” I whispered, pulling her tighter to me.
“I agree,” she said, bringing her pussy up and down, fucking me with an aching slowness. I wondered if Nana had ever told Heejin what I liked, or if she knew instinctively. God, she was tight. As I rolled my head over, I spotted Nana’s blonde mane in the audience.
“Nana’s watching,” I breathed into Heejin’s ear. My cock throbbed inside her, egged on by the risk and mind-bending pleasure Heejin’s young, perfect body was giving me.
“Good,” Heejin panted quietly. “I want her to watch as her boyfriend cums inside me.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that she wouldn’t pull me out. I didn’t want to cum in her, risking a pregnancy that would make the entire situation far worse. Knocking up your girlfriend’s little sister is never a good place to be, so I tried to move backward, but she was on top and I was too deep in her.
“You’re not on birth control,” I gasped, aware of how quickly the tight wetness of her around my cock was bringing me towards orgasm.
“I know. We’re being really bad.”
“Heejin, Heejin, fuck —”
My climax was approaching like a freight train. I couldn’t help it — I thrust into Heejin’s clenching tunnel with ferocity, her breasts bouncing slightly in the corset, right at my face. I wanted to reach out and tear off her dress, kiss her everywhere, but could do nothing but chastely kiss Heejin’s lips, otherwise the audience might know something was too real about the way I was thrusting into her under her dress and the covers.
“Cum in me,” she whispered in my ear. “Cum in your girlfriend’s little sister. Fill up my tight little pussy in front of everyone.”
I could feel her inner walls flexing, milking me. My cock swelled within her. With one last glance at Nana, I thrust up into Heejin’s pussy and let go.
I nearly blacked out in pleasure as I shot spurt after spurt of cum up into Heejin. She gasped, too loud, as my warmth splashed into her, then began to shudder and moan into my shoulder, grinding her clit hard into me. We were cumming simultaneously, me emptying all I had into her, and her body shaking, racked with pleasure. At that moment I didn’t care that people were watching. I just wanted her.
I quickly filled up her unprotected pussy with my cum, until I could feel it dripping out of her as I kept thrusting. She rode out the rest of her climax on my cock.
We’d both finished quicker than the allotted time for our lovemaking onstage, so we were forced to keep fucking even as my cock softened and came out of her cum-soaked pussy. I could feel cum dripping out of her slit onto my cock, and hoped none of it got on the costume.
Finally, the lights went down and the scene change began. Heejin and I rolled off each other with one final kiss. I tucked my cock back into my pants and she pulled her dress down. We went our separate ways in the soft light of the glow in the dark stage tape.
“Great job,” Hanjae whispered to me backstage. “Very believable.”
As we bowed to the applauding audience, Heejin squeezed my hand. Over the din, she said into my ear: “I can still feel you inside of me.”
“Good,” I said back.
I made my way to the dressing room, congratulating my cast mates on the way. Everyone was excited from a successful show, but I was still dazed, trying to work through what had happened with Heejin onstage. Had anyone seen us? Had we left behind any evidence? Would she get pregnant? Would Nana find out?
With all these thoughts swimming in my head, I opened the door to my dressing room. Nana was already there, waiting for me.
“Hello,” I said, not knowing what else to say. I shut the door behind me.
“You and Heejin did amazing work out there,” Nana said. She kissed me. “This time I couldn’t wait until we got home to fuck you.”
I knew I couldn’t have sex right away, seeing as I was still covered with the evidence of Heejin fucking me.
“Nana, wait —”
Nana pulled down my pants, revealing my semi-hard cock. It was shiny, still wet with Heejin’s pussy fluids and a residual amount of my cum. Nana grabbed it, feeling the wetness. She dropped to her knees.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just fucked somebody.”
I tried to stop her, but she stuffed my cock into her mouth before I could say anything. Nana swirled her tongue around my slick cock, looking directly up at me. I watched, rapt, as she sucked her little sister’s juices off my hardening shaft, moaning around my cock. Was she... enjoying this? She had to know it was Heejin’s pussy she was tasting.
I tried to pull away.
“Wait, Nana, I’m sorry, but onstage... Heejin slipped me into her...”
Nana lifted off my cock. “You don’t think I recognize the taste of my little sister on my boyfriend’s cock? You two are fine actors, but not good enough to make real sex look fake. I could see every second of you coming inside her.”
At that, my dick jumped in Nana’s hand. She engulfed my cock with her warm mouth, bobbing up and down, sucking me. Then she looked up at me again.
“It was so fucking sexy; it was almost worth losing.”
Losing? Losing what? Before I had time to ask, we were interrupted by a voice from behind us.
“How do I taste?”
Heejin was at the door to the dressing room, still wearing her costume from the show, her breasts pressed high in the corset. She closed and locked the door behind her.
Nana continued to suck my dick for a few moments, like it was the most normal thing in the world for her younger sister to watch.
Heejin smiled, watching her big sister slobber on the cock that had so recently finished inside her. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Heejin sat up on the makeup table, pulled up her dress, and spread her legs, revealing her pink pussy beneath that trimmed bush. As she spread her plump lips with her fingers, my cum trickled slowly out of her tight hole.
At that, Nana finally slowed to a stop on my cock. She popped me out of her mouth and wiped away the juices coating her lips. Heejin was slowly fingering herself, rubbing my cum around her folds.
“The terms of the bet were clear,” Heejin said, looking at Nana. “If I didn’t manage to make him cum in me tonight, I had to bow out of the show and let you have the lead role. But if I did make him cum in me...”
“I know,” Nana said. She got up and crossed to Heejin.
“Sorry, but what is going on?” My head was spinning. This had all been some kind of competitive game between the two sisters?
“If I got you to fill my pussy with your cum onstage, a feat your girlfriend said was impossible, she’d have to lick it out of me.” Heejin spread her pussy lips with her fingers.
Nana lowered herself to her little sister’s sperm-filled pussy.
My jaw dropped as Nana reached out her tongue and made contact with her younger sister’s pussy. She licked from the bottom up, parting Heejin’s folds and sinking her tongue into her hole. I saw a pearl of my cum on the tip of Nana’s tongue. When she reached Heejin’s clit, Nana swallowed my cum, then licked Heejin’s clit, making the younger girl moan. Nana ran her tongue back down Heejin’s little pussy, then repeated the process. She managed to get some, but not all of my cum from Heejin’s pussy.
I could see Heejin’s breathing becoming ragged, see her body stiffening as Nana licked her. She was going to cum from her big sister’s mouth.
“Wait wait wait, fuck, oh god...”
Nana looked up at her sister, smiling as she licked her pussy more intensely. Now it wasn’t about licking my cum out of her slit. It was about making the younger girl cum. And cum Heejin did, her body seizing and her breasts jiggling as she held Nana’s face to her quivering pussy, riding out an intense orgasm on her sister’s tongue.
Finally Nana slowed to a stop and pulled back from Heejin’s shiny pink pussy.
“There,” she said, wiping her face off. “You won, fair and square.”
Heejin looked over at me. My cock was still out, standing up hard and throbbing. She got a mischievous smile on her face and began to pull her dress up over her head.
“How about a double or nothing bet?”
Nana looked over at me. “What do you have in mind?”
“We trade off. One minute each. Whoever can get him to cum first, wins.”
“Wins what?”
I was still shocked by Nana’s eagerness to eat her younger sister’s pussy and bring her to orgasm. Now she was going to agree to Heejin fucking me in front of her? What could be worth that?
“Him.” Heejin, now naked, got on her knees in front of me and slowly began to stroke my cock. “If you manage to make him cum inside you, then I’ll back off Suho and you can have your precious lead role. But if I make him cum inside me, I get him.”
“Easy now, I’m not comfortable with all this,” I said. I didn’t want my dating life determined by a competition between sisters. On the other hand, alternating between the two of them sounded extra hot, and I wasn’t thinking with my head.
“It’ll be fine, baby,” Nana said, stripping down. I could see a huge wet spot on her panties. “Just cum in me, not in her.”
“I don’t know...”
“What’s wrong, Nana? You scared?”
“No,” she said defensively. “I’m more experienced with him. I know how to get him to cum. It’s little miss barely not a virgin who should be worried.”
“Not even an hour ago he was cumming inside me,” Heejin scoffed. “Once he’s felt that, it’ll be hard to go back.”
Nana lay back on the floor, spreading her legs. Heejin leaned down and buried my cock in her mouth, giving it a few sucks before she took it out of her mouth, grabbed it in her hand, and angled it towards Nana’s slit. When my tip was nestled between my girlfriend’s hairy pussy lips, Heejin darted forward and planted a sloppy kiss on Nana’s clit. Nana gasped in pleasure.
“You ready?” Heejin said, straightening up. “And... go!”
I started fucking Nana. The horniness from the whole situation meant I was starting the drive on the fifty-yard line; it wouldn’t take much to bring me over the edge. Nana was wet, wetter than I’d felt her in a long time, and the tight, hot slickness felt heavenly.
“Cum in me, baby, please, please,” Nana moaned, her small tits bouncing with every thrust. “Please do it, baby...”
“Thirty seconds,” Heejin said. One minute was no time at all.
I sped up my thrusts. Nana flexed her inner muscles hard, and the tightness brought me closer, but I didn’t think I would be able to cum before the time ran out. I loved Nana, but after having Heejin, who was sex personified, I’d be lying if I said my sexy but familiar girlfriend matched up.
Heejin started to count down, timing it with my strokes. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six...”
“Come on, baby, cum, you know you want to...”
I thrust hard, looking down at Nana’s pussy as it spread open for my cock.
“Five, four, three...”
“Baby...” Nana held onto me tight, but we both knew I wasn’t going to finish. Panting, I slowed down.
“That’s time!” Heejin exclaimed gleefully. “Pull out of her!”
“Fuck,” Nana moaned, disappointed. I withdrew from her, watching as her pussy lips gripped me like they were desperately trying to keep me inside her. Next to Nana, Heejin had her legs spread and her red, aroused, tufted pussy on display.
“Come here,” Heejin said. I positioned myself between her legs. Heejin took my cock and delicately slotted the tip into her. Nana watched, a flush of embarrassment creeping down her neck towards her breasts. I noticed that her nipples were still rock hard on her tits, which, though still perfectly shaped, looked even smaller in comparison to Heejin’s full and perfect ones.
Heejin looked up to her older sister, to make sure she was watching. “Thanks for warming him up for me, big sis.” I pushed an inch into Heejin’s tightness. Both sisters gasped. “Ooh, he’s so nice and slick,” Heejin cooed. “Thanks for the help there, too.”
I pushed all the way into Heejin, until my entire cock was grasped by her snug pussy. We stared at each other intensely. The first time we’d had sex was in the dark, covered so that it would be impossible to see each other. Now, I could drink in every inch of her. Her perfectly round, smooth breasts, nipples standing up straight like pencil erasers, and her neat, perfect pussy clenching my bare cock. I withdrew almost all the way, then drove back into her. Her tits bounced. I slowly built up a rhythm, thrusting into her.
“Of course he’d rather cum in me,” Heejin breathed. “I’m younger, I’m tighter, I’m forbidden...”
For a second, the only sounds were the wet squish of Heejin’s pussy and her quiet moans as I fucked her. Then I heard another slick sound and looked over. Nana’s eyes were glued to her little sister’s tiny, trimmed pussy, which stretched to fit me inside as I drove into Heejin over and over. Nana had her hand between her legs, playing with herself. She was driving her fingers up into her slit with abandon, as wet as I’d ever seen her.
It had only been thirty seconds or so. Fucking Nana had gotten me going, so I was already close. Heejin felt me get bigger inside her and bit her lip, scrunching up her face in pleasure.
“Ooh, I can feel him swelling inside me.”
Nana said nothing, continuing to masturbate. She had apparently already given into the idea that Heejin had won.
“He’s gonna cum in me,” Heejin moaned. “Your boyfriend’s gonna fill up my little cunt and you have to watch.”
Nana looked at me, pleading silently, but Heejin took my face in her hands and made me look at her. She was spread open before me, her body the image of perfection, taking my cock with little gasps of pleasure that were building toward a climax.
“Do it,” she whispered.
And I did. I drove fully into her, my cock jerking as it shot cum into her young pussy. Everyone’s eyes were glued on my cock, splitting Heejin’s lips apart and throbbing with every spurt inside her. Heejin was set off again by the feeling of me filling her up, moaning and shuddering. I watched as her pussy clenched me, quickly filling to the brim. Next to us, Nana’s petite breasts jiggled and she let out a high-pitched gasp, arching her back. She was climaxing at the sight of me cumming inside her little sister.
I kept cumming. Heejin’s small pussy overflowed with my sperm, each thrust pushing some of it out between her tight, hairy lips.
“Put it all into me,” Heejin said between gasps. “Every drop you have.”
After a few more spurts, I withdrew my cock from Heejin’s pussy. Heejin cried out at the sudden emptiness. On my knees, I approached Nana, whose legs were spread as she played with her pussy. I slotted my still-climaxing cock, covered in Heejin’s juices, into my girlfriend’s pussy.
Nana smiled as she felt me thrust into her, her tightness milking the last spurts of my cum.
“Thank you, baby,” she said. “Saving some for me.”
Both sisters lay naked below me, flushed chests heaving; Heejin’s large and firm, Nana’s small and cute. Their legs were spread, showcasing nearly identical haired pussies. And though Heejin’s pussy had more of my cum dripping out of it, as I pulled out of Nana I was happy to see that I had cum enough to see a pearl of semen between her lips, too.
“There,” I said as Heejin and Nana both began to clean off my cock, their lips occasionally touching as they licked me. “Now it’s a tie, and I get both of you.”
“For now,” Heejin said, looking up at me as she ran her tongue up my shaft. “But eventually, one sister always wins."
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astonmartinii · 1 year ago
Text
tight knit | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
spa 2021, where a knitting hobby comes in handy
yourusername
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 401,874 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: hello spa !! one of my fave tracks and i'm so excited for this weekend AND for those who asked, here's my current project, it's a sweater :)))))))
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user1: oh to receive pics of charles like that
user2: i love how she's like here's my fine ass bf but more importantly here's my update on my knitting
danielricciardo: is the man on the second slide single?
yourusername: HE'S MINE BACK OFF (p.s. i love you dan, but don't joke about that shit i have approximately 200 teenagers in my dms threatening violence everyday over him)
charles_leclerc: cherie, i didn't know that :(
yourusername: i'd fight all of them and more for your hand
charles_leclerc: my knight in shining armour
danielricciardo: okay i was trying to make a joke, it was not an invitation to prove how in love you guys are we get it
user3: i too wish i had a bf rich enough that i could travel and knit full time
pierregasly: have a day off for once
yourusername: keep on like that and you'll never get that panda
pierregasly: but you promised !!!!!
yourusername: be nice then
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,208,760 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: calm before the storm at spa
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user4: now where does y/n get all of these cut head accessories?
yourusername: vinted babes
user5: we love a thrifty queen
user6: storm meaning driving the ferrari shit box
yourusername: wow you look great, banishing me to the row behind you just to take this photo was defo worth it
charles_leclerc: you were there for two mins max then you sat with me stop these false narratives
yourusername: lies it was five minutes cause you didn't like the angle
charles_leclerc: i want to look handsome is that too much to ask
yourusername: you're always pretty baby
user7: can they stop like i am so lonely i can't see this
carlossainz55: let it be known that the only way charles can beat me in chess is with y/n's help
yourusername: nooooooo i never helped i was knitting
charles_leclerc: i wasn't cheating !! y/n was just being nice to me
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f1
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 708,954 others
tagged: yourusername
f1: well, that's one way to spend qualifying's red flag. y/n y/ln spent her time in the ferrari garage working on her knitwear.
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user10: she said in her spa post it's a jumper i hope it's for charles
yourusername: it is, lord knows that boy needs all the help he can get in the wardrobe department
charles_leclerc: rude !!!! you never say anything
yourusername: you're always so proud i can't tell you it's bad
charles_leclerc: life ruined
yourusername: but you're so pretty no one cares about your criminal trouser collection
charles_leclerc: back handed compliment, but a compliment nonetheless
user11: she's so unbothered i love her
alexalbon: okay but when is my jumper coming @yourusername i ordered it last month
yourusername: it's coming i swear !!!
alexalbon: you let charles skip the line again didn't you
yourusername: maybe ...
yourusername
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liked by lilymunhe, charles_leclerc and 481,056 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: hoping for a drier sunday, drowned rat is definitely not my aesthetic
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user12: the first picture i am going to rip my skin off
charles_leclerc: is this the appropriate time to say save a horse ride a cowboy?
pierregasly: this is why ferrari is a red flag
yourusername: howdy
pierregasly: you people are gross
charles_leclerc: you talk about ur dick at any give opportunity
yourusername: and no one actually calls you tripod
user13: damn.... couples that drag together stay together
pierregasly: ok. i will refrain from talking about your sex life publicly.
user14: i love that y/n posts about knitting just as much as she posts about charles.
yourusername: charles is the side chick
charles_leclerc: it's true i've been told to roll over in bed to make more room for the yarn
f1wagsupdates
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liked by user15, user16 and 2,304 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: appreciation post for my favourite wag !!
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user17: i want to be her when i grow up
user18: i need her hair care routine asap
user19: can we stop putting these women on a pedestal for like no good reason?
user20: usually i'd agree but y/n has nothing but kind and a good role model, so if you idolise one wag it might as well be her
user21: her style is so underrated
user22: i need the jacket in the third slide
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 770,984 others
tagged: yourusername, charles_leclerc
scuderiaferrari: there's two types of people during a red flag at spa
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user23: they're so precious to me
charles_leclerc: i wish i could relax that much in the ferrari garage
yourusername: i am not relaxed, i am actually the most stressed, i just hide it well
charles_leclerc: maybe we'll confiscate the needles for the actual races
yourusername: probably the only wise strategy in that garage
user24: i love how y/n keeps going for ferrari's neck and charles just can't reply
carlossainz55: it's so cold can i get my christmas jumper order early @yourusername ?
yourusername: that's a big queue to skip chilli i'm not sure i can comply with that
carlossainz55: if i changed my name to charles would this change?
yourusername: maybe 🤔
user25: the sky camera is obsessed with her and i am exactly the same thank you for the content
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 508,673 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: it's a bit cold in spa so charlie's new jumper (just finished) is coming in handy straight away
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user26: LORD PLEASE I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS
user27: okay this is cute and all, but DAMN that jumper is so fucking cute y/n is so talented
charles_leclerc: i think the phrase is: came in clutch
yourusername: you're welcome baby
charles_leclerc: i retract my previous statement about confiscating the knitting needles and i will give up more space in bed for the yarn if this is what i get
yourusername: not us having a polyamorous relationship with KNITTING
user28: so like i need y/n to open up a shop
alexalbon: i hope mine comes next
yourusername: i'm on it already albono
lilymunhe: on his jumper or the one for me that he asked for
yourusername: yours obvs
alexalbon: mugged off again
charles_leclerc
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,409,874 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: words cannot describe how much i love you (and your knitting). as george would say i am snug as a bug in a rug and it's all thanks to you
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user29: SNUG AS A BUG IN A RUG CHARLES WHO ARE YOU
yourusername: can they start the race so we can go be snug as a bug in a rug back at the hotel?
charles_leclerc: omw to the fia hq rn
yourusername: thanks baby
georgerussell63: i thought this was my job but thanks charles i guess
charles_leclerc: man of the people and the cuddles
user30: lord i am so lonely
danielricciardo: y/n x enchante collab when?
yourusername: coming to mclaren rn
charles_leclerc: so my cuddles mean nothing?
yourusername: have you seen this man's pricing we'll be rich baby
charles_leclerc: we are rich baby
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note: pls enjoy, requests may take a while cause your girl managed to break her finger lol
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