#I hope this will be useful so no one has to scroll to long for the things they wanna find

[themuseofaphrodite]

know that you and i shouldn’t feel like a crime ✧ OP81

summary: after viewing a series of viral tiktoks, you decide to partake in the “hear me out” cake trend with your very wary boyfriend.

trigger warnings: suggestive & mature content, swearing

word count: 1k

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One of your most surprising qualities was that you were a TikTok fiend, especially since you were usually down to earth and didn’t use your phone much in public — but for good reason. Your “For You” page was filled with some of the weirdest, wackiest things: dangerous extreme sport challenges, odd filters used on pets for a quick laugh… the list could go on. Each video was a perfect way to destroy your reputation as the effortlessly suave McLaren princess.

You slouched on the creaky recliner next to Oscar Piastri, your boyfriend of almost three years, and sighed loudly, garnering his attention immediately. He was perfectly attuned to your every movement and breath, which was why you liked him so much. Nothing was worse than a nonchalant man, and Oscar was anything but that.

“Hm, darling? Everything OK?” Oscar looked up at you from where he was sitting, pausing the television with a careless flick of his hand. “It’s getting late, maybe you’re tired? You did have a long day.”

You shrugged one shoulder, feigning coolness. “No, I’m fine, I’m not tired. I just have an idea.”

Oscar raised one eyebrow, already on alert. That last sentence always warned him that something was afoot, and nine times out of ten, it was never anything good. “Oh, no. What now?”

“There’s a trend going around” — this made Oscar visibly tense, a vein in his neck going taut as he waited for you to continue. He disliked the viral pranks and never laughed at any of them, to your dismay — “and I was hoping you’d be willing to participate in one of them with me?” You batted your eyelashes, giving him puppy dog eyes, a trick you knew he couldn’t resist.

“If my mates find out about this,” he warned you, waving a finger menacingly at you like a stereotypical villain. “No posting this like you did last time.” You stifled a laugh at the thought of the last prank you engaged in, and the way it had broken the Internet when you posted it on social media. Oscar had not forgiven you, and it had been almost a year.

You shook your head solemnly, extending your pinky finger out to him so he would interlock his own in an unspoken vow. “I promise you I won’t post it.”

“Good.” He pursed his lips, obviously remembering the media disaster that had unfolded last time. McLaren had not been happy with him in the slightest, to say the least. He was still making it up to them even now. “What’s the trend?”

You edged yourself closer to him, tilting your chin conspiratorially and speaking in a low whisper. “Hear me out.”

Oscar’s eyebrows furrowed, clueless. He scrolled through TikTok very rarely, mainly preferring to stick to television, and sometimes Instagram reels, so he had no idea what you were talking about. “Pardon?”

“So, basically,” you explained, your voice bright with mischief, “you have to think of a few characters, or people, that you think are attractive, although others might disagree with you. For example, hear me out,” you started, a moment’s pause between your response. “Bumblebee from Transformers.”

Oscar’s jaw dropped as the name clicked. “The robot? You want to tell me that you find a machine attractive?”

“He’s protective and sweet, and has really good music taste,” you defended, pouting.

“Goddamn, Y/N, starting off strong.” Oscar hummed under his breath, thinking. “Hear me out, Megan Fox but in Jennifer’s Body.”

You groaned loudly, annoyed. “That’s not a ‘hear me out’. Everyone agrees that Megan Fox in that film was beautiful. It has to be something unhinged, like, hear me out” — you clucked your tongue, pondering over the various choices floating around in your mind — “the Goldfish cracker on the front of the bag.”

Oscar made a distinct choking noise, his face flushing red. “An animal? God, Y/N. I should report you to the police so they can put you behind bars.”

You swatted him on the shoulder, barely missing him since his reflexes were superhuman. “Try again, Osc. Really shock me with this next one, please.”

“Hear me out…Belle from Beauty and the Beast.” Oscar waited for your approval, and you sighed, throwing your hands up in the air in surrender. “What? How was that not good? She’s a cartoon!”

“Everyone loves Belle! She’s fierce, intelligent, and stunning. All qualities that are conventionally attractive!” You shook your head. “Come on. Hear me out, a string bass.”

Oscar’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What the — Please tell me you’re joking, love. There’s no way you could find an instrument attractive.”

“A bass is tall, deep-pitched, and mysterious. Just what I like in a man.” You beamed up at him. “OK, Oscar. Don’t disappoint me.”

He side-eyed you, tapping his fingers on his lap as he thought. “I have one.” You watched him with bated breath, hoping that he would finally catch on. “Hear me out, Sydney Sweeney, in general.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “I give up, Oscar. I should’ve known that this wouldn’t have worked. Lando would be so much better to do this with… Let me ask him if he’s free.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, pulling you onto his lap before you could escape, and giving you a quick peck to your lips. “Sorry, darling. Better luck next time?”

You huffed. “Whatever, Oscar. I forgot you were an inadequate, basic white boy.”

Oscar nudged his nose against your jaw, whispering in a husky, deep voice. “Hear me out, my girlfriend, Y/N L/N. She might be batshit crazy sometimes, but she’s absolutely breathtaking. When she’s underneath me, begging for my cock like a good girl? It’s a fucking work of art.”

You suppressed a shiver, looping your arm and burying yourself against him, arousal dancing under your skin. “Fuck, OK. You win.”

He kissed you again, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Oh, I know. I always do. Future world champion, remember?”

“Arrogant prick,” you muttered, but your curses were swallowed up by a new wave of kisses Oscar pressed against your lips.

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[burymagdalene]

Crazy Little Thing Cold Love - S. Reid x Reader

Where the fierce cold brought by their holiday with the team to a ski lodge leads reader and Spencer to seek warmth in more ways than one in their room. Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: Fluff and Smut (18+ pls pls) tags: softdom!Spence, fingersucking, dry humping, lots of messy kissing, fingering, oral (fem receiving), handjob, piv sex, overstimulation (I can’t help it), praise, fluff, of course, they love each other big time! wc: 6.1k. a/n: I genuinely did not think more than 20 people would read my last (first) fic, I was smiling ear to ear and stalked everyone who liked it basically. I hope this isn’t too long. I don’t know what the fic length sweet spot is. Anyway, I was imagining our pretty boy in the Alaska episode 5x21 while writing this. MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMAL

Despite not knowing how to ski, when Spencer invited you to join him and his team for a quick holiday to a ski lodge in Colorado, you nearly melted in excitement. 

You’re over at Spencer’s apartment, bag readily in hand, watching him try to find outfits for this occasion. “Well.. I’m not going to be skiing, so I think regular clothes will be fine, hm?”

“Just bring a couple sweaters or something, that’s what I did. And a swimsuit.” You comment as you lay on your stomach on his bed, scrolling through your phone. Spencer takes his head out of his closet to spin and look at you.

“I didn’t even think about that. Of course. Thank you.” He mumbles and walks to his dresser, unsure if he even has swim trunks here. In his bottom drawer he digs through ridiculous ties and socks he’s forgotten about and begrudgingly finds the only swim trunks he had since highschool.

You scoot your body towards the end of his bed, leaning your head over to look at the way-too-short purple swim trunks he’s holding up with an unmistakably gloom look on his face. “Oh… you have to try those on. Right now.” You request through giggles. 

Spencer stands up slowly placing the trunks in front of the trousers on his legs to see how the size difference from a pre-pubescent Spencer contrasts to now. How badly he’s about to be humiliated in front of his coworkers. 

It’s nothing too horrifying, just blatantly un-Spencer in a way that has you both laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Seeing your boyfriend in short shorts has yet to occur! Regardless, Spencer slips off his slacks and pulls the shorts over his legs, jumping to put pants on for the first time in his life.

Spencer does not look bad. The shorts are too high up, he has probably grown about 6 inches since he picked these out. The tag is still on, he’s never even worn them. They sit nicely fitted on his upper thighs and he has his hands covering his face laughing as he shows you. In an over exaggerated manly voice you laugh out a “do a little spin for me hot stuff” at a groaning Spencer.  

“Babe,” Spencer laughs “I cannot be seen in these. In front of my highly respected team as well. In front of… Morgan.” He begins to take them off and throws them into his duffle bag anyway. 

“Noooo you gotta. Plus it’ll probably be just the two of us in the hot tub or whatever at a time. We’re not all going to be sitting in it together. At least I hope not…” You giggle a bit at the image. You have to give Spencer props though, him a few years ago would’ve cancelled his RSVP or purposefully left the swimsuit at home leaving him to a trip of staying in a random log cabin reading. 

It’s not for a case, so the team does not have access to their own plane, making it so that you and Spencer are doomed to wake up at 5am to meet everybody at the airport. You give out multiple sleepy sidehugs, unable to believe how equipped everyone is at waking up at unbearable hours. With this though you are able to sleep through the flight from D.C. to Colorado just fine using Spencer as your pillow. 

The ski lodge made you gasp when you arrived. Snow that was not present in D.C. covered every inch of the area; two levels of wooden panels lead to a huge snow slope behind the lodge. Through many “ooh’s” and “aah’s” it was finally revealed that only Rossi, Hotch, and JJ knew how to ski. Though, Emily and Morgan were equally as interested in learning from the best. This left you, Garcia, and Spencer to inside activities; watching your friends ski, groaning at lack of cell service (Garcia), reading, and the wonderfully heated pool and hottub that rested on the porch overlooking the slope. This, of course, made everyone squeal. 

Rooms were doubled up and you and Spencer unpacked your bags chatting with Morgan who was leaning against the doorway regarding ski tricks.

“If you’re so uncoordinated and haven't touched a slope in your life, why would you care about how skiing can aid astronauts mobility?” Morgan questioned Spencer's rambling about astronauts who have experience with skiing and had an easier time walking on the moon. 

“Well I’m not walking on the moon anytime soon either I just think it’s fascinating that cross country skiing-”

“What is that?” Morgan interrupts Spencer when a sweater covering his trunks in his bag gets put away, revealing the tiny purple fabric. You start giggling as Spencer sighs. Morgan walks into the room and picks them up from his bag. “What does this sweet girl have you wearing for her, Reid?” He teases.

Spencer definitely grabs them from his hands “Nothing! I got them when I was in highschool, I don’t go swimming a lot.” He sighs and looks down at you shaking his head as if to say “what did I say?” without speaking. 

Morgan relents seeing Spencer's face redden a bit. “Ah, pretty boy, well, this look might be good for you, I can’t wait.” He exits laughing after ruffling Spencer's hair. 

Spencer plops down on the bed next to you, scooping you in his arms. “This better be the most heavenly hot tub I’ll ever experience…” he sighs into your neck. You wrap your arms around him too, running your nails softly over his back and whisper back “Oh stop. You deserve a break, it will be.”

Later that day after playing a few rounds of Spades, everyone decides it's time to face the cold, put on gear and ski. Or watch them from the patio. It’s amusing even though you have no concept of how they’re going down with such elegance. It almost looks too easy for them. You have two sweaters on and a ski coat. Apparently, coming out with one sweater and a coat was so offensive to Spencer that he made you tack on another layer. “You’re the coldest person I know, please add another, baby”. Spencer, who was bundled up himself, pleaded as you spun around on your heels to redress yourself without protest because you know he’s right. 

With your chin tucked into your hands, pressed between Penelope and Spencer, you all take on the roles of pseudo-Olympic commentators to pass the time. The horrible butchered transatlantic accent coming from you all worsened by the warmed eggnog held between cold palms. Spencer eagerly grins as he sees Morgan stumble a bit in his boots, “Yikes, not a good start for Morgan, whose first Olympics is this year. Now wait, wait, it is down to the wire but…YES, it looks like Morgan has gone for the gold and succeeded. Such a momentous moment in the young athletes career-”

Penelope slaps Spencer's arm, doubled over laughing at the fake news anchor voice he has adapted for this role he has put on. “Stop, stop, he’s going to get mad at you!” You all wipe the smiles off your faces and put on fake serious ones as Morgan trudges back up the slope, looking more suspicious than if you had just kept laughing. He shakes his head in disappointment towards the three of you.

All sort of tipsy and numb from the cold decide to go back inside. The rigorous ski activities today coupled with the early morning, causes the rest of the team to head to bed early. You and Spencer run towards your room at the same time, pushing past each other in the door frame as you try to stumble into warmth. 

You slide your coat off and plummet to the ground to turn on the space heater with a speed as though it was a bomb you had 3 seconds left to disarm. You put your hands near it to warm them, looking up from the floor to Spencer who is smiling down at you from the bed. He silently motions with his head for you to sit over by him.

Whining and pulling yourself away from the heater, you get up and stand between Spencer's slightly open legs. He places his arms behind him and slouches back on his palms to get a better look at your face from where you’re standing. He tilts his head innocently to the side and squints at you. “Is somebody too cold? I would’ve never guessed that…” 

Scoffing and pulling your arms around yourself to conserve heat you mumble back “Noooo… I mean. Just my hands. Hah, they feel like they’re made out of molasses.” Spencer gives a mocking sort of pitied smile up at you, which you ignore by the good graces in your heart. He shifts his weight back onto one hand and slips one of his chilled palms up the front of your sweater to your waist. You wince at the juxtaposition between your flushed skin under your layers and his icy hand. 

You grab his wrist from under your sweater with an icier hand. “Don’t… torture me.” You beg at him. He furrows his eyes together and pouts, as if the idea of removing his hand from the curve of your waist would drain all the blood from his veins. Spencer hums and takes it off anyway, sitting up straight and taking both of your wrists into his hands, placing them together so he can cover your hands with his, moving back and forth to spark some friction into them.

The heat starts quickly from your fingertips to your wrists and you hum in content. Spencer whispers a “Yeah, you’re okay,” in response. “Your hands are freezing, I’m sorry angel.” Very malleable from the sweet heat you’re finally getting, Spencer continues to move your hands so that your palms are facing his face now. He kisses your fingertips softly, the warmth from his mouth makes you let out an almost silent moan. 

“S’that nice?” He looks up into your eyes, you still standing there like if you moved all the heat you’ve accumulated on this spot of the floor would vanish. You nod breathlessly. Spencer smiles at your response, not wanting to tease you further, preferring the flush in your cheeks his warmth is supplying you over his taunting. He begins to press more soft, slow kisses over your fingertips, moving your hands at his will by your wrists. 

Then there is a progression to open mouth kisses on your palms, he bends your hands down to kiss over each of your knuckles, eyelids open and trained on your face. Spencer rubs his cheek on the back of your hands and moves them again so the sensitive skin of your inner forearms are facing him. Rolling up each sleeve of your sweater, he coos at the goosebumps that raise from the air on your newly exposed skin. The kisses start from your wrists up to the crux of your inner elbow. You get a second round of goosebumps from a different source now.

You let out a rush of air at the sensitivity picking up on your arms from his mouth, from the cold. Spencer places one last kiss on your arm and nips the inside of the sensitive skin there. At this you can only make a pinched face and mutter out a simple, “Spence.”

He can’t help but grin at your placidity, he’s used to your sharp tongue, but this evening you’re nothing but soft sounds and looks. Your goosebumps soon fade as he rubs your arms up and down a few times and slides each of your sleeves back to their rightful places. “Warm?” He questions finally.

Truthfully, the space heater has kicked up enough that you don’t feel like your life's on the line anymore and you on the outside are just as warm and fuzzy as you are feeling on the inside. Still, being doted on is never something you would allow to run short if you have any say in it. “Mmm… my fingers just can’t. Get warm?” You don’t even believe yourself.

Spencer decides to take pity on you anyway through the “woe is me” act you’re executing poorly. “Ahh. Pesky things. Let me try something.” Spencer picks up your right hand again with the delicacy of picking up a butterfly and places your fingers against his lips again. This time though as he’s looking up at you and cupping your hand with both of his, he positions your middle and ring finger down so that they’re the only two pressed against his lips.

Starting off, he kisses them like before, sickly sweet, only with your warmth in mind, then ups his ante a bit. With a small parting of lips, Spencer's tongue tentatively pokes out around the fingers. He’s testing the waters. Easily, you give an eager nod of approval. 

Another hum falls from Spencer's lips as he takes your two fingers, to the second knuckle, deeper into his mouth. Sucking your fingers now and staring up at you, you shuffle yourself closer to him, straddling his legs and resting your other hand against his shoulder for purchase.

Spencer’s hands slip from yours and find a place under your sweater again, and this time you let him with no complaints. You take your hand from his shoulder and cup his jaw gently with it, guiding his head back slowly, allowing him to take in more of your fingers. Spencer sucks them gently and moans around them when your fingers grip his jaw a bit too hard. You drop the hand that’s grabbing him. One has to be careful not to bruise the jaw that’s sucking their fingers. Something like that.

Letting go with a gentle pop, Spencer takes a breath of air and pushes his face up to meet yours in a wet kiss. Your wet fingers cup his face as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. 

“Mmpf-” You groan, pain spreading lightly in your mouth now. You briefly think of your first kiss, how feather-light it was that you hardly even felt him there with how tentative he was. After all this time you’ve enabled this boyfriend of yours to use his teeth to nip you like a territorial kitten who is privy to love biting. 

With an open mouth you kiss him hard in a rebuttal that has him smiling against your lips. “Hmm, don’t groan, you’re not going to break,” he wraps his arms around you fully, moving his mouth to your ear now, “helpless little lamb-” his voice gentle despite his mocking candace. 

You don’t feel like baring your teeth, fully satisfied with allowing Spencer to push your buttons until he inevitably notices your novel docility and rewards you for it. You know him like the back of your hand. 

Wrapped in his embrace and legs open over top of him there’s an instinctual need in your brain needing you to grind down on him and a more voluntary decision bred from embarrassment that is saying too soon too soon. In the crossfire of these conflicted thoughts your thighs concoct an awkward shaky squeeze motion and immediately lift up from him. 

“Going somewhere?” Spencer says in a pretend-serious tone before snickering at you once you silently sit back down on him. He understands you just as well as you do him and slips the arms that are under your sweater to brace your hips against his. “Is this what you wanted? You can take whatever you want from me.”

Sitting back down to where you were previously on his lap you card your fingers through his hair. “How chivalrous…” you murmur against his lips before you open your mouth to kiss him again. You have learned how to utilize time being spent while kissing Spencer over the course of your relationship. Rather, you have learned how to kiss each other in a way that signals immediately to the other that you’re needing this to progress past dry humping. The way your lips are slotting together and the way he’s pulling on your lips with his is a blaring sign. 

After you let out a shuddering sigh while pulling away for a breath, Spencer uses this opportunity to usher you so that your back is flat against the bed and he’s resting his arms around your head on top of you. With one of his hands against your cheek and the other caging your head in you easily slip back into the version of yourselves that tremble with need, this desperation not well suited for either of you. Intolerable.

Spencer’s thigh is regrettably too far away for you to grind yourself against and in order to shake the throbbing at your center you wordlessly take his hand by your face and bring it down over your jeans. He takes the hint immediately cupping you so you can grind against his hand through the thick fabric. 

He likes to pull away for this part. Spencer stops kissing you so that while he’s rubbing your clit through your pants he can hear your unoccupied mouth moaning while he kisses along your jaw and neck. He thinks of it as a cheat code really, he gets to keep kissing your skin while simultaneously hearing your progression from moans caught in your throat to small whines and begs.

Surprisingly, Spencer is the first to break and ask for the fabric barriers to be discarded, which makes you proud because you’re the one who’s the most impacted by your (basically) industrial grade jeans prohibiting you from feeling your boyfriend's fingers against you. 

“Baby, these are killing me,” He’s already moving above you to unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down to around and off your ankles. “I promise I’ll keep you warm.” In all honesty you’ve forgotten about the biting wind outside and the slopes of snow toppling over, but you appreciate the sentiment regardless. The idea that being cold will genuinely stop you from having him inside you right now is laughable.

You sit up and take off your sweater and undershirt as Spencer is working on your lower half. Working as in mouthing over your cunt through your panties as you struggle to unhook your bra at the visual.

Your legs are parted, thick white socks still up to your shins, and once Spencer threw your jeans to the ground he laid between your legs to kiss and lick over your panties. You keep fumbling with the clasp whenever he sucks or kisses over your clit. Not the most efficient moment of your life. “J-Jesus, I can’t get this off.” You huff and break him out of his pussy-induced stupor. 

Spencer comes up from between your legs and shuffles over and unclasps your bra with such elegance that you can’t even comment on it because you know he’s boasting over it in his head. Instead you pull over his sweater and shakily unbutton the top half of his button up shirt while he works on the bottom half. Your hands briefly meet over his middle button and he kisses your forehead with a smile as he pops the last one open for you both. 

His own slacks are thrown off alongside yours on the floor and you both grab at each other to take off one anothers underwear in such an eager manner that you have to laugh at each other for a moment before finally sliding them off. 

Spencer guides your head with his hand behind it as you slowly lay down besides him. Knees propped up and together, he places one of his hands on the outside of your thigh, gently running his fingers tips up and down the skin. “Why don’t you go ahead and open up your legs for me?” He asks between petting your leg.

Now, he must notice that it would be too easy for him to open them for you, like he so naturally comes to do. He’s coaxed your thighs open, held them down from the backside of your knees while you squirm from his lips sucking your clit, pushed them together and to the side when you’re squeezing his sides too tight while he’s fucking you. There is something delightfully humiliating about spreading them open yourself. So eager to display for him the shiny wetness that has been coating you for a demeaning amount of time, like gifting him a bashful merit badge for his effortless work.  

You look up at him through your lashes, his eyes are fixed on the softness of your lower belly, waiting for the moment you start to move so he can see your sex being revealed the instant you do it. Pervert. Taking one of your hands away from the bed you trail it slowly from the bottom of your ribcage to the very part of your stomach that has Spencer transfixed. Teasing yourself and Spencer simultaneously, you push your hand between your closed thighs, still hiding yourself slightly, and dragging up some of the wetness you collected with your first two fingers.

This time your fingers go into your own mouth, sucking off the taste of yourself while you watch Spencer mouth breathe and the tip of his dick start to dribble. Poor thing. “I love you.” He whispers into the air, incentivizing you to just do what you’re told. 

Embarrassment flushes your chest as you part your legs for him, putting both of your arms lazily above your head, finally rewarding him with saying “I love you” back once your thighs are on opposite sides from each other and your pussy is on full display. 

He shuffles closer to you on his knees, arm reaching out to softly run his hand on the inside of your thigh. “Look at you… can I touch?” Spencer’s asking like he doesn’t know if he doesn’t you’ll die.

“I’ll die if you don’t.” He should get where you’re coming from. He smiles meekly to himself, proud, or maybe just plain excited, and spreads apart your lips with his fingers. Your toes curl in on themselves as he slides his middle finger through you, spreading your wetness and mulling your ache. It’s almost too much to watch this near-inspection and you turn your flushed cheeks to the side and look at how his dick is a matching shade of red to your face. You love this part. Tangible evidence to how he feels about you, not that you need any more, but seeing right in your face how being with you makes his thighs tense and cock heavy puts a smile on your face.

With two fingers now he’s collecting the sticky soft wetness that never stops collecting in times like these, and rubbing your clit with them in such a gentle way you scoff out a “Please-”

Immediately he gives in, he’s not a professional at avoiding your begs even when it's looking like he’s going to be in charge. Pressing his fingers harder against you he rubs faster circles onto where you’re pleading for it. “Being so bossy. We haven’t even started.” He quips, trying to gain back some of the fervor he has for being in control, not just sit back, be a good listener, and give give give. 

Your clit throbs helplessly against his fingers. Wanting them harder and faster, wanting them inside you, in your mouth, against your throat, you can’t help but whine at the possibilities montaging in your head. Spencer watches a small dribble of white essence leak from you, mutters a “Jesus” to himself and slides his two fingers off your clit to inside of you. You choke on your moan, not expecting to be so full so quickly, it’s perfect. Spencer isn’t teasingly fucking you with his fingers. He knows how to curl them, he does so. He knows to put his forearm into it in the way that makes you stamp your legs shut. He’s fucking you quickly and easily with them as you bring your hands over your face.

“There, Spence.” You mumble against your hands, biting the skin of your palm to be courteous to everyone else in the house right now.

“I know.” He pushes against that spot in you that’s made you cry and rubs with a pressure made with love. You buck your hips and let him get away with whatever he wants to do with you, but the noise coming from his fingers in you makes you want to float out of your body. 

Brows furrowed and head pressing back against the bed your hips start to twist, with a mind of their own, turning over onto Spencer's hand. This part you can’t control. ��Mmm, Spencer. Okay, okay, fuck.” You’re bargaining in your own way, for something neither of you know, but Spencer figures out every time. He slips his fingers out and places them on your clit again. Wet and pruned from being inside of you, he can move fastly against it as you gasp.

“I wish you could see what I see right now. So wet. You’re about to ruin these sheets the first night, baby.” He laughs gently at you. 

“Th-then stop touching me.” You bite back. Immediately scared of the idea of him following through. 

Spencer would literally never do that. He rolls his eyes a bit and furrows his brows at you when you make eye contact. He hums and adds a third finger to rub circles against your clit, two not being enough anymore for a precise massage with how wet you are.

Moving slowly back flat against the bed, your pelvis gives up on trying to crush Spencer’s hand underneath them. When his other hand trails down to fuck you while he rubs your clit you look for a way to thank him without bringing humiliation to yourself for years to come. You feebly grip the base of his dick, palm fairly loose around him as he’s currently milking all of the strength from your limbs. 

Spencer plainly laughs at this, it’s so you. He’s making your brain leak from your ears and you can only pump him lightly a few times. The one instance where you two have tried to 69 this story ended a similar way, with his tongue doing unspeakable things while you can just moan around his dick and wetly kiss it. It’s hard to do things while he’s fucking you. 

You huff, wanting his pretty leaking dick to be getting the same amount of attention as you are. Keeping your one hand on his base to keep it from bobbing, you reach over with your other hand to rub his tip, smear himself all over the sensitive top. He’s stopped laughing now.

“Please don’t make me cum right now.” Spencer pleads softly as he starts to quickly rub your clit from side to side now instead of the circles he was doing before. Fuck, talk about a competition. Your back arches up from the bed as your hand falls limply from where it was on his tip.

Wanting to inform Spencer on how you can’t jerk him off while he’s touching you so he should just start fucking you properly is not a sentence in your capabilities right now so you try your best with a “fuck me fuck me fuck me.” Doesn’t leave much for interpretation.

He slows his fingers and pulls them away with a sad “sorry, angel…” after glancing at your sour face from the lack of stimulation you’re getting now. He slips off the bed entirely to grab a condom from his bag, and throws it on your stomach for you to open after his fingers slip trying to tear the wrapper himself from your wetness still on his fingers. 

Fully situated between your legs again now Spencer looks up at the ceiling briefly while you roll the condom on him as if saying a prayer for composure before he’s inside of you. You can’t help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

Whenever Spencer first slides into you, you have to make sure to keep your eyes open to watch his face since he nearly always wears the same angelic face that you never get to see elsewhere. His mouth becomes a small “o”, his eyebrows are furrowed together, but not like he’s squeezing them down, they’re pulled up in a blissed out expression as his eyelids flutter closed. Heavenly.

He’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he’s pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. There’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him. Maybe you are making too much of a mess out of these poor clean sheets.

After his initial haze of trying not to come instantly, Spencer brings back down his right hand to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers. You bite down on his shoulder to keep from terrorizing your housemates. Your propped up foot, still covered in your warm socks, thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets. 

“Feel nice baby?” Spencer asks into your hair as you bite down onto him.

How he could ask you this is beyond you, though you suppose he’s indirectly asking you to feed into his praise kink. “You feel so perfect Spence,” you whine against him. “unhhh…might be a bit too obsessed with your cock” you slur and laugh a bit at the end, not sure what will do it for him. Nevertheless he lets out a choked whimper and loses his rhythm. Bingo. 

His weight is pushing you down so you can’t wiggle away from any of the stimulation he’s giving you. It accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don’t get enough time to warn him you’re close. You weren’t close really, it felt good and then you came. Sucking in air through your teeth your thighs squeeze around Spencer, who is murmuring “oh baby…” into your ear. 

You want to kick him for how good he’s making you feel. It feels unfair and you want to throw a tantrum based on how his fingers are still rubbing your twitching clit and how much you love the feeling of drowning in his pleasure. You’d never throw a tantrum though. Right now, Spencer has caught you in a completely willing mood where you’re closer to proposing to him than anything.

It’s dizzying. Your mouth is wide open in shock as you let him touch you into overstimulation and you don’t even realize it till he lets go of the vice he had on your leg and brings his free hand to put his thumb into your mouth. Latching onto it immediately, you use it as a buffer, a gag, to prevent yourself from making too much noise or mouthing off. You bite down a little on the digit and drool rolls down your lips to your chin. Spencer takes his thumb out, collects it, and pushes it back into your mouth.

Spencer reverts back to rubbing your clit back and forth with his middle and ring finger, losing purchase a few times with how wet you are, but finding his way back to your sweet spot just as quickly. You feel the second orgasm building this time around. Your eyes shoot open, you suck softly on his thumb and he looks back down at you, recognizing the pleading look in your eyes.

“Yeah. Y-yeah, angel. S’a good girl-” he gives his sort of permission and you cum so hard you don’t realize he’s finishing right behind you. 

He’s petting your hair with his hand, both wet from either your cum or your spit and you try to shove that complaint out of your head because of how sweetly he’s moaning above you as he finishes. He’s done cumming but he tends to keep sliding into you after, not ready to give up the whole experience yet. This is when you hear his prettiest sounds.

You cup his cheeks and kiss all over his face and he softly smiles and finally pulls out of you, laying on his back and scooping you on top of him. Tracing a finger over his lips softly you whisper how impossibly good he always makes you feel, how he gets you so wet that you didn’t even know you had that much in you till the tips of his ears go red and he pinches your side. 

“Open for me.” He asks one more time after shaking off the blush that has accumulated from your praises. You smile and open, finally sucking off what’s left of yourself from his fingers. He pops them into his mouth after yours without a second thought and you cannot believe this is the man who gets the heebie jeebies when he has to shake hands with someone new he meets. They should be the ones hesitant to shake his hand with where they have been.

Both feeling ridiculously sticky, you shower together, not even bothering to unpack your toiletries, just using the too-lemony-smelling products the lodge has provided you with for free. Spencer washes your hair for you so you don’t even need to complain to him about how he’s dirtied it and you both trot back over to the bed with fuzzy robes on. 

You cover your face with your hands at the unmistakable wet patches all over the sheets and Spencer collects them quickly and pops them into the washer. 

Exhausted, you both lay side by side on the barren bed as you wait for the sheets to be done. Mumbled against your lips a proposition, “I want to see you in that hot tub.” He clearly feels bad for the goosebumps littering your torso that he’s subconsciously been trying to rub away for the last twenty minutes after you left the heat of the shower. 

Blinking blankly at him for a moment in silence you purse your lips, “I was thinking about the hot tub too.” The thought of removing yourself from the room that has cold leaking back into it from the lack of physical activity now is thrilling.

Spencer laughs and sits up next to you on the bed. “Everyone is so exhausted from waking up early and skiing all day that we will be all alone so I thought now would be a good-”

“Yeah,” you nod your head enthusiastically at him. You can’t remember the last time you were in a hot tub and it sounds like a dream right now. “Let me get my suit.” You both wobbly stand up and you retrieve your swimsuit from the drawer, laughing while you toss Spencer's trunks back at him. He’s so blissed out from the sex that he doesn’t even mention the trunks, he just slips them on and heads out. 

You make Spencer step onto the freezing porch first after you demand him to take the cover off the hot tub for you both, this was his idea after all. Watching from the glass door you blow your breath onto the glass to draw a little heart with an “S” inside of it in the fog. Spencer blows you a kiss in return as he skimpers out in his purple trunks and enormous ski coat.

The alternation between walking out in a swimsuit in that ungodly temperature, into the hot jets of the hot tub feels like whiplash, but once you’re fully submerged you giggle happily and sway your hands under the water.

You and Spencer play footsie under the water like two lovesick teenagers at a pool party as you look off the balcony at the snow. You nudge him under the water a bit before talking,

“Thank you so much for bringing me to this, seriously. I feel like we’re on our honeymoon.” you joke.

Spencer hums and takes your hands into his, rubbing the outside of your hand with his thumb. “Mmm, well on our actual honeymoon I’ll probably have to take you somewhere warm to avoid all this teeth chattering.” He teases back at you, but his words have an underlying sincerity that makes you sink yourself down into the water to your chin with a smile.

“You’re gonna marry meeee,” you respond in a sing-song voice, Spencer grins back for a moment then looks at you and nods earnestly. 

“How could I not?”

[cowboybeepboop]

Release

"Don't worry...I'll give you what you need baby.."

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Your friendly coworker Clark takes care of your needs. 

a/n: As always I hope you enjoy and send any requests you might have my way!

Clark is your annoyingly perfect coworker, you know the type: always on time, always right, never makes a single mistake, and never has a hair out of place, let alone a stained shirt.

Your irritation grows as you rub the coffee stain from your white button-down, thoughts filled with the idea that you’ll find him at his desk, right next to yours looking as *perfect* as ever. 

It's been one thing after the next, first, you saw your long-time boyfriend cheating on you in YOUR apartment with your best friend, then some dumbass hit your car completely totaling it which leaves you taking the subway every morning attempting to be on time yet you always seem to arrive just five minutes late, and now your stupid shirt. Your favorite shirt. 

It’s silly to think you’re fighting back tears over a $15 button-down when you didn’t even react to seeing the two most important people in your life raw dogging it on your sheets. Taking deep breaths you adjust your hair, flattening it down, and blinking away the tears that threaten to spill. At least you’re slightly on time, even if it meant leaving home 30 minutes before you'd usually even wake up.

Finally, you give up on the stain coming to terms with the fact that a slight brown tinge is better than being late *again*. You slip into your chair with a quiet huff, pinching the bridge of your nose as you gaze at the clock on the wall. Glancing to your side you see Clark, he's 15 minutes early, smelling like heaven, he looks sleek as always, without a single hair out of place. 

Clark catches you looking at him as you huff and puff next to him, he tries not to chuckle at the frown on your face before he turns to you, friendly and unassuming as usual, completely oblivious to any issues you may have. He smiles his signature warm and charming smile.

"Good morning, you're here on time today, finally," he teases, his tone light and innocent, not realizing his words sound like a veiled jab when they fall from his lips.

You turn to him, eyes narrowed in an intense glare. "Mind your own business, Kent." You grumble, your usual (fake) friendliness gone like your ex-boyfriend. Focusing on the computer in front of you, you log on, scrolling through the endless emails.

Clark blinks awkwardly at your response, surprised by the harshness in your voice. He’s not quite used to you snapping at him, sure you have your moments but you’re rarely outright hostile.

He sits back, running a hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck, slightly perplexed about how to respond.

Clark hesitates for a moment, debating whether to address your change in tone. Clearing his throat, he tries to keep his tone lighthearted. "Um…is everything okay? You seem a bit, uh…”

He trails off, realizing that nothing he says will help his case and that you may actually bite his head off if he continues. So he shifts slightly in his chair instead, averting his eyes from yours as he pretends to focus on something on his computer.

"Look, Clark." You sigh, turning to him once again, tone much softer this time, "I don't need your pity, there's no need to pretend like you care." you slip out of your chair, heading to the break room to grab another coffee. 

Clark raises an eyebrow at your words, his lips curving into a slight frown as he watches you go. He waits a few moments before silently following you, his steps almost soundless as he approaches you at the coffee machine.

He stands behind you, his presence quiet and calm, as he studies your expression before speaking.

"Who said anything about pretending?" He asks, his voice low and earnest.

You're standing on your tippy toes, attempting to reach the coffee on the top shelf of the cabinet. "Why would you care about me and my problems? We're *just* coworkers." 

Clark swallows, feeling a pang of disappointment in his chest at your dismissive words. He leans against the counter beside you, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he contemplates how to respond.

"Just coworkers..." he mutters softly before sighing quietly, "Right."

He watches you struggle to reach the coffee for a moment, his hands twitching in his pockets as he resists the urge to reach out and grab it for you.

Clark can't tear his eyes away from the way your body stretches and extends with every effort to reach the coffee, the muscles in your thighs and backside taut and prominent as you stand on your tippy toes. It's an unconscious and innocent action, but it's affecting him more than he'd like to admit...

He clears his throat again, shifting his weight and trying to control the thoughts that begin to flood his mind. But as he watches you struggle once more, his restraint is slowly but surely beginning to fray.

"I'm sorry," you sigh, finally managing to grasp the coffee grounds. "I didn't mean it like that Clark." once back on flat feet, you look at him with a gentle expression. 

The tension drains from Clark's shoulders as he hears your apology, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. He manages a small smile, the corners of his lips tugging upwards slightly. 

"It's okay," he replies quietly. "I understand. You've clearly got a lot on your plate."

He can't help the way his eyes wander over your figure again, lingering on the way your body moves and molds with each movement. The words "I care" hang on his tongue, but he swallows them back down.

Once the machine starts brewing you lean against the counter, crossing your arms under your breasts as you let out a small strangled sigh. "I didn't mean to snap at you either. I've just got a lot going on.." 

Clark's eyes track your movement, watching as you rest against the counter. His eyes seem to linger on the way your arms press against your chest before he manages to force his gaze back up to your face, his cheeks flushing from the heat that spreads through him.

"It's okay," he says again, offering a reassuring smile. "You don't have to explain yourself. I..I get it."

He hesitates for a moment, mulling over his next question before finally swallowing and asking, "Anything I can help with?"

"Not unless you're willing to beat up my ex-boyfriend for me," you chuckle dryly, eyes focused on the empty office. Being the two newest employees you're stuck with the early early morning shift. 

Clark lets out a small, surprised laugh, the sound rich and warm. He leans back against the counter, mirroring your position as he grins at you. 

"Tempting," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. "But I think I'd rather help in more...legal ways."

You smile, finding his presence comforting and relaxing, finally putting your restless mind at ease. Your bare thigh brushes over his as you turn to grab a mug, the fabric of your skirt lifting up ever so slightly. "Well, I'll let you know if I can think of anything you can help me with." 

The contact sends a jolt of electricity through Clark's veins, his breath catching in his throat as he feels your skin brush against his. He attempts to keep his reaction discreet, but the way his eyes widen slightly betrays his composure.

He swallows, his mind racing as his gaze drifts down to the exposed flesh of your thigh, the smooth skin on display making his thoughts whirl and pulse. 

"Yes... Please, let me know," he manages to mutter, his voice thick with an undertone he hadn't intended.

"Want some?" you hold out the mug to him, noticing the way his gaze is trained on your legs, a slight flush creeping up your neck. 

Clark is snapped out of his reverie as you hold the mug out to him, his eyes flicking up to yours for a moment before darting down to the mug in your hand again.

He clears his throat and reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the mug. The contact sends another spark of electricity through his body, his cheeks flushing slightly as he quickly averts his eyes.

"Uh...yes, thank you," he stutters, trying to disguise the nerves in his voice.

You notice his strange demeanor, eyebrows furrowing as you fill your cup. "Now it's my turn to ask if everything is alright," keeping your tone playful, you gaze up at him softly. 

Clark swallows again, his heart thudding against his chest. He shifts awkwardly on his feet as you question him, his mind racing to find a believable excuse, but failing miserably.

The way you look up at him with such soft, concerned eyes is making it even harder to maintain his composure.

"Uh...yeah, I'm fine," he stammers, forcing a smile. "Just...uh...just a bit tired, that's all."

"And here I thought you were always on the top of your game." you tease softly, reaching to put the coffee back up, sneakily adjusting your skirt so it reveals more of your body. 

Clark watches you strain to reach the high shelf, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realizes he should have helped you get it down in the first place. He steps closer, his body now mere inches away from yours, his chest almost touching your back.

He reaches up and grabs the coffee, his arm brushing against yours in the process. The proximity is enough to send another shiver down his spine. He places the coffee back on the shelf before turning to you, his voice softer this time. "Next time, just ask for my help."

"Clark.." you breathe out his name, shocked by the electricity his touch fills you with. "I, uh, could've put it back myself you know."

Clark freezes, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of his name slipping from your lips. He could swear he was imagining the way you breathed his name, the way it sounded almost like...like a gasp.

He lets out a small huff, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I know," he says quietly, his eyes fixed on yours. "But I wanted to help."

"Mhm..." you murmur, gaze trained on his muscular body as heat rises in your cheeks. Your heart pounds in your chest, something about the way he touched you makes you heated. 

Clark's chest tightens as he registers the way your eyes rake over his frame, his skin burning in the wake of your gaze as you take him in. He swallows, the sound seeming louder than normal to his heightened senses.

The subtle shift in your breathing, the hint of flustered color adorning your cheeks, the heat radiating from your body... all of it feeds into the growing tension between you two.

"Clark," you step closer to him, gathering all the confidence you can. "There is *something* you could do to help me..." 

Clark's heart thuds harder, the closeness of your body almost intoxicating as he feels heat begin to pool in his gut. He inhales sharply, the scent of you clouding his senses as he struggles to focus on your words.

His voice is low and gruff when he responds, barely a whisper, "Anything."

"I want.." you take a steadying breath, "I want you." you press your fingers into his side, pulling his body closer to yours.

Clark's breath hitches as he feels your fingers press into his side, a shudder coursing through him as you pull his body against yours. He lets out a soft, involuntary moan as he feels the heat of your body against his, every nerve in his body on fire with need.

He looks down at you, his eyes wide and dilated, the last few remnants of restraint finally giving in. "Christ..." he mutters under his breath.

"There’s no one here right now," You bite on your bottom lip, knee sliding between his legs as you press against his groin. 

Clark lets out a hiss, his breath hitching once more as he feels the heat and friction of your body press against his. The unexpected sensation of your knee between his legs sends a jolt of pleasure through him, his hips involuntarily bucking against you as he fights to keep control. 

His voice is a low, ragged growl as he responds, "You're not playing fair.."

"I'm not.." you murmur, fingers moving to unbutton his slacks, "I never play fair," 

Clark's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your fingers on his slacks, his body frozen as he watches you undo them, freeing his erection from the confines of his clothes. The feel of your touch, the implication behind your actions, is driving him crazy. 

He lets out a strangled moan, his breath ragged and irregular. "This...this isn't...we shouldn't be doing this here," he stammers, his voice lacking conviction as his eyes remain fixed on your hands.

"Exactly... That's what makes it so," you press a kiss to his jaw, "exhilarating" 

The feeling of your lips against his jaw is enough to send Clark over the edge, any shred of restraint he had left evaporating into thin air. 

He lets out a breathless growl, the sound thick and heavy with desire, as his hands reach out to grip your hips. His grasp is firm, the strength in his hands evident as he pulls you even closer to him, his body flush against yours. 

"You...you're killing me.." he groans, the heat pooling in his stomach almost unbearable.

Clark's mind is reeling, the sensation of your smooth skin under his touch driving him crazy as he lifts you onto the counter, his movements surprisingly precise and controlled despite the whirlwind of desire coursing through him. 

As he pushes your skirt up, revealing your bare thighs, he lets out a low, guttural sound, his eyes fixed on the sight of your body in front of him. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this..." he murmurs huskily, his voice strained with desperate need.

“Clark, please… I need you,” you whine, body aching with months of unfulfilled desire. Your ex never quite knew how to use those 4 inches. 

Clark's breath hitches, his heart thudding in his chest as he hears the pleading tone in your voice, the sound nearly breaking him in an instant. It's doing something to him, to his ego and his emotions.

He leans in, his lips against your ear as he whispers, "Don't worry...I'll give you what you need baby.." he spreads your legs, pulling you to the edge of the counter, pressing his tip against your aching cunt. 

Your face contorts in pleasure, the gentleness of his touch, the desire behind his eyes, and the idea of being caught, all of it is working to make you ache even more.

He slowly slides into you, moaning as your pussy stretches around his thickness. Clark keeps his thrusts slow, gently working his way deeper inside you, and your nails immediately dig into his shoulders. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you’re intoxicated by his touch, “mm so big.” you moan needily, hole clenching around him. He groans, large hands moving across your frame as he finally bottoms out, his tip hitting the pleasure point in you. 

“Is this okay?” He cups your face, pressing soft kisses to your lips as he gives you time to adjust. 

Clark’s question hangs in the air as you both pant and tremble from the intensity of the moment. You nod fervently, your eyes never leaving him, the silent communication speaking volumes of your need. He takes that as his cue, his gentle touch turning to one of urgency as he begins to move within you. 

His strokes are deep and deliberate, each one hitting that spot that has you clinging to him tighter, your moans growing louder with every passing second. The office around you fades away as you become lost in the sensation, your mind racing with the illicit thrill of doing something so taboo with your coworker. 

His kisses become more passionate, his tongue claiming your mouth as he picks up the pace, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing in the quiet space. The tension between you two has been building for months, a dance of wills and glances, and now it’s all culminating in this desperate, passionate embrace. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his firm ass, urging him deeper with every thrust. The break room becomes a cocoon of passion, the only sounds are your muffled cries of pleasure and his grunts of effort. 

The friction between you builds a delicious pressure that demands release. You can feel him swell within you, his need matching yours. Your breaths become gasps, and your eyes widen as the first waves of orgasm crash through your body, tightening around him. "Clark...I'm gonna..." you manage to breathe, your voice shaking.

Clark's eyes darken with desire as he feels your orgasm approaching, his own need reaching its peak. He increases his rhythm, driving into you with a passion that surprises even him. "Cum for me," he whispers, his voice thick with need. 

The sound of your impending climax is his undoing, and he lets out a guttural groan as he joins you, his hips bucking against yours as he fills you with his release. 

The aftermath is a haze of heavy breathing and racing hearts, the realization of what you've just done slowly sinking in. You cling to him, your bodies still connected as the tremors of pleasure subside. 

Clark's heart is still racing, his body shaking from the intensity of the moment, as he gazes at you, his fingers tracing gently across your face. He's silent, his breath ragged and labored, as he absorbs the enormity of what just happened. 

The silence between you is thick and heavy, filled with the weight of what you both just did. Clark's eyes flicker between yours, a mixture of concern and wonder in his expression. Finally, he speaks, his voice rough and low. "Are you..are you okay?"

"More than okay," you murmur, dazed and utterly satisfied. "You're so good, Clark." you slide off the counter, standing on shakey legs.

Clark helps you steady yourself, his strong arms wrapped around your waist to support you as you make your way to the bathroom. He can't help but chuckle softly at your unsteady legs, a mixture of pride and amusement filling him. 

Once you're both freshened up and presentable, he walks you back to your desks, his hand resting gently on the small of your back the entire way. 

"Are you feeling better now?" he asks, his voice now smug, his eyes searching your face.

"Much, much better." you grin satisfied by his disheveled appearance. The perfect Clark Kent is barely able to concentrate on his work, his hair is slightly frizzy and out of place, and his shirt is wrinkled, all of it makes your stomach pool with warmth once more.

Clark can't help but chuckle at your satisfied grin, his cheeks flaring with a hint of blush as he realizes the state he's in. He reaches up to straighten his hair, only making it more tousled in the process. 

He catches sight of his wrinkled shirt and wrinkled and he lets out a low sigh, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. "I look like a complete mess, don't I?" he says, a sheepish grin on his lips.

"A perfect mess," your tone is light, eyes full of admiration.

[jennaispunk]

Puppy Love

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Rating: E (it's fluff)

Word Count: 2.4 k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, established relationship, one brief mention of drug use (weed), brief allusion to smut, one tiny (bad) period joke, sweet!Dieter, no description of reader is given, if I missed anything let me know.

A/N: This fic was written for @bitchesuntitled, as a gift for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub Secret Santa Exchange. Happy Holidays, DD!! 💜 I hope you enjoy this little slice of Dieter fluff. Thanks to @sp00kymulderr for organizing.

moodboard by me. dividers and banner by @saradika-graphics

“Dee, please stop talking about that dog.”  

You tilt your chin up and look at him. You swear he hasn’t shut up about that dog since filming wrapped. Somehow, this dog really made an impression on Dieter. You knew he was an animal lover, but this was bordering on obsession.

“I can’t help it, babe.” He huffs. “If you saw him, you would have fallen in love too.”

Dieter sighs. He doesn’t really know why but something about that dog just got to him. Maybe it was his story, or the way he looked at him. All Dieter knew was that he connected with Rolo instantly. That rescue Greyhound had left his mark on Dieter’s heart. He knew what it was like to be used and abandoned. No living creature should have to endure that. He’d spent every day since wishing he could have taken Rolo home and given him the life he deserved.

“I’m sure I would have, but you talk so much about him. I’m starting to get jealous.”

You can’t resist the temptation to tease him, but there is a silver a truth in your words.

“Jealous?” he smirks, rolling the two of you over and pinning you to the mattress. “You have nothing to be jealous of, babe.  You’re a much better kisser than he is.”

He rolls his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You know exactly what he’s trying to do, and you love him to much for it not to work.

“Gee thanks.” You giggle. “You sure know how to make a girl feel so good about herself.”

His brow arches and he brings his face closer to yours. Your lips are millimeters from colliding, your breaths mingling.

“I’m about to make to make you feel so damn good.”

The twinkle of mischief dances in his eyes as his hand works its way under your sleep shirt.

You lay awake long after Dieter fell asleep, jealous of how easily he could drift off. It always took you forever to fall asleep, your mind always going into overdrive at the worst possible time, even after you’ve been thoroughly satisfied by the man you love.

Christmas was just around the corner and that was the reason for this bout of insomnia. Dieter had told you that gifts didn’t matter to him. He enjoyed spoiling you, and anything he wanted or needed he could get for himself anytime. Still, you wanted to do something special for him this year. To give him just a little of what he’s given you. What do you get a man who has everything? That question had you racking your brain for nights on end. Then it hit you. What better gift than a puppy? Not just any puppy, though. You had to figure out a way to get Rolo. That would be a Christmas present he would never forget.

The next morning, a quick Google search gives you the contact information for the rescue organization. You scroll through their website and find Rolo’s picture among the dozens of other adorable dogs in their care. The first step was going to be contacting them to see if Rolo is even available for adoption.  If he wasn’t, all bets were off. You chew your bottom lip as you think of a way you can make the call without Dieter knowing.

“What ‘cha thinking about, babe?”

Your eyes snap to meet his. You clear your throat and close the webpage. Cocking your head to the side, you give him a cheeky grin.

“Breakfast.”

You surprise yourself with how quickly the word rolls off your tongue. Lying to Dieter was something you didn’t like doing, but it was necessary. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. Anyway, he’d forgive you once he saw Rolo.

“Breakfast, huh?”

He raises his brow, not quite convinced but willing to let it go…for now.

“Yeah. How about I make us some of my famous French Toast? And Bacon?”

“You sure know the way to my heart, babe. I love your French Toast.”

You smile at him as you slip your phone into your pocket. Rising from the couch, you pad to the kitchen and begin gathering the ingredients.

Making the excuse of having to run errands, you head out into the bright California sun. Running errands wasn’t a complete lie, you did need a few things. Stopping at Starbucks, you order your favorite drink and find an empty table. This is the perfect place to organize your thoughts and get a plan together away from Dieter’s nosy self. You pull out your phone and call the rescue.

“Thank you for calling Tails Rescue. This is Mandy speaking, how can I help you?”

You relay the situation to the girl on the other end and breathe a sigh of relief when she tells you Rolo is available for adoption. The adoption manager is available this afternoon and Mandy sets up a time for you to meet Rolo and talk details.

You’re smiling like a fool as you disconnect the call. Dieter is going to be so excited on Christmas morning. The look on his face is going to be priceless.

The second you lay eyes on Rolo in person you know exactly why Dieter fell in love with him. He’s a little shy at first, but within a few minutes, he is laying his head in your lap and looking up at you with a slightly dopey expression. Rolo’s mannerisms and sweet face are too much to resist, much like Dieter himself. This one-eyed Greyhound with beautiful brindle markings has completely stolen your heart, just like Dieter said he would.

There’s a bounce in your step as you walk back to your car. This dog is going to be the perfect addition to your lives. The only thing is your going to need some help in pulling this off. You need somewhere to store all the things you need to buy for Rolo: food, toys and a comfortable bed. There’s nowhere in your apartment to hide those things without Dieter finding them. He’s a notorious snooper and always finds your gifts for him, no matter where you hide them. Luckily, you know just who to call.

Walking back into the apartment, you drop your bags on the dining room table. Dieter immediately starts rifling through the bags to see what you brought home.

“Hey, nosey. Get out of there.” you tease. You reach out and slowly pull the bag away from him.

“Come on, babe. Is there anything in there for me?”

He wiggles his brow at you and reaches out for the bag, pulling it back over to him.

“Not this time. Unless you’re about to start your period soon.”

You smirk at him and wink. He huffs at you and begins rifling through the bag again, undeterred by your little joke.

When he finds nothing in the first bag that interests him, he sets to work on the second bag.

“Really, babe?” he asks. “More lights for the Christmas Tree? Are you afraid Santa won’t remember where you live?”

You slap his arm as you giggle. The way he says it makes part of you wonder if he still believes in Santa Claus.

“These are to replace the ones you broke last week. You ate too many of Luke’s special brownies and you spent hours trying to make the colors change, remember?”

The string lights you had on the tree weren’t color changing but Dieter, in his inebriated state, had tried for hours to get them to change, destroying them in the process. You’ll never forget the look on his face when you came home and found him.

He chuckles softly and nods, preoccupied with the other contents of your shopping bag.

“I thought you’d like these. They’re color changing and they even come with a remote.”

That’s enough to get his attention and he picks up the box. Examining the box, he studies the different settings and patterns that he can try out.

You snatch the box and playfully narrow your eyes at him. It probably was a bad idea to buy color changing lights, but you hope he won’t make you regret it.

“No playing with the lights while you’re high, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” he mumbles, snatching the box back from you.

He turns the box over in his hands, examining it once more. His brow furrows and he looks up at you.

“These say ‘chew proof’. Who the fuck is going to chew on our Christmas lights?”

You shrug and walk over to hang your purse on the hook.  

“I didn’t even notice that. I just thought the color changing effects were cool.”

You grab an item from your purse and present it to Dieter, hoping to distract him.

“I got you a Kit Kat. King size for my king.”

You raise your brows at him then lean in to kiss his cheek.

Christmas was just a week away and you had been so busy. Between decorating the apartment, buying gifts to ship to your sister and her family and making sure everything was ready for Rolo’s arrival, you felt like you barely had any time to yourself. All you wanted was a nice hot bubble bath and maybe an edible to help you relax.

Everything was all set for Rolo’s big debut. All the things your new addition would need were safely stored at your best friend’s house. You made arrangements to pick Rolo up from the rescue on Christmas Eve and he would stay with her overnight. She’d bring Rolo to you early Christmas morning and then Dieter would get the surprise of his life.

Dieter was out having dinner with his agent, and you had the apartment to yourself. You dip into your stash and shed your clothes as you head to the bathroom. As you wait for the water to reach the perfect temperature, you turn on some soft music. This is just what you need to de-stress. With the tub now full, you drop in your favorite bath bomb and sink into the steaming water with a contented sigh.

You slip out on Christmas Eve under the pretense of visiting your best friend to exchange the little gifts you had for each other. After your visit, you head to the shelter and pick up Rolo. Getting him all set up in his temporary home, you head back home to Dieter.

Christmas was a big deal for Dieter. He never had a traditional Christmas growing up.  His parents were barely present and his Christmases as a child were meager at best. This was your third Christmas together, and the two of you had started your own traditions. He was waiting for you when you got home, already in his Christmas pajamas and the Chinese food spread out of the coffee table. The living room lights had been dimmed and the lights on the tree glowed, casting blue and purple shadows on the wall in almost an ethereal pattern.

You quickly changed into your Christmas pajamas and met him on the couch. You each silently made a Christmas wish before you ate. Once dinner was done and dishes were cleared, you settled back onto the couch for your Christmas movie marathon: Christmas Vacation for him, It’s A Wonderful Life for you. Dieter wrapped the blanket around you as you snuggled into his chest.

Six A.M. on Christmas morning, you slowly creep out of bed, careful not to disturb Dieter as he snores lightly. He rolls over and you freeze in your tracks, holding your breath. You exhale softly when he doesn’t wake up and you make your way to the door.

Your best friend arrives right on time, and you thank her profusely for all her help. You get Rolo’s things tucked into the living room and put on his brand new collar, complete with a name tag and a big red bow.

“Welcome home, Rolo.” You whisper as you lightly scratch his chin.

“Let’s go wake him up, huh? He’s going to shit himself when he sees you.”

The two of you head back into the bedroom and you watch Dieter for a moment. You almost hate to disturb his peaceful sleep, but you can’t wait another moment to give him his gift.

“All right, buddy.” you whisper. “Go say hi.”

You hold your breath as Rolo pads over to the bed and softly nudges Dieter’s arm.

“It’s too early to be fooling around, babe.” he groans and rolls over, away from you.

You stifle a giggle and silently urge Rolo to try waking Dieter up once again.

Rolo appears undeterred and sticks his cold nose right on Dieter’s bare back. You erupt into a fit of laughter as Dieter bots upright.

“What the fuck!”

His hands rake down his face as he tries to get his bearings. He wipes the sleep from his eyes and is greeted by an enthusiastic nuzzle.

“Rolo! Hey boy!”

Dieter lovingly strokes Rolo’s head and neck. His mouth is slightly agape as he turns his wide eyes to you.

“Babe…what?…is this real?”

Seeing Dieter so happy makes your heart swell and your vision blurs with unshed tears. His reaction is even better than you had hoped.

“Yeah babe,” you answer softly. “It’s real.”

He leaps from the bed and sweeps you into his arms. He squeezes you tight, lifting your feet off the ground. Your giggles fill the room, and Rolo bounds around you in a circle at the commotion.

“This is the best Christmas ever. I can’t believe you did this for me. Thank you.”

His lips softly brush against yours as his fingers tangle in your hair. Your lips move in tandem, languid movements; there’s no rush, just the physical manifestation of love.

“You’re welcome.” you whisper softly against his lips, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.” he echoes. “I’ll make sure I properly thank you tonight.”

He wiggles his brows and smirks. His hips gently rock against yours, as if you were oblivious to his meaning. Dieter was never one for subtlety.

“Mmmm…I’m going to hold you to that.”

Your fingers run the length of his stubbled jaw. The quiet chuckle that you elicit vibrates between the two of you.

The peace around you shatters as he grabs your hand and yanks you toward the living room, almost making you lose your balance in his haste to get you moving.

“Come on. I can’t wait for you to open your gifts from me.”

[milkamel]

Okay so since there have been a lot of asks lately and some of them are clogging the blog page slightly (I love answering them don't get me wrong here) I decided to finally organize stuff, edit old posts and add proper tags to them XD

Use #mmelart to see my art (makes sense) #mmelwriting to see fanfics and some small things I may or may not write #mmelask to see, well, asks I answered! and #mmelyapping to see posts where I talk a lot (it's sometimes mashed up with asks)

I added this whole thing in the pinned post as well so you can easily find it there <3 (I should've done that a long time ago but I wasn't that familiar with tumblr before lmao)

[neverendingford]

,

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[joelsgoldrush]

“lovers once a year” | 9.4k

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

SUMMARY: One always craves what is out of reach. Like the forbidden fruit that lingers just beyond grasp, tempting with its sweetness. Joel became the town’s greatest sinner, and you, his best friend’s daughter, are the tantalizing temptation he knows he should never indulge in. Your very existence marks the path to his ruin. He can't help but follow it. WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. joel’s POV. a lot of introspection. mentions of alcohol. miscommunication. no outbreak. dbf!joel. age gap (25 and 56). petnames. religious imagery. car sex. oral sex (f!receiving). fingering. unprotected p in v. riding. missionary. doggy style. orgasm denial. crying. hair pulling. thumb/finger sucking. cum shot. creampie. reader sits on joel’s lap and has hair. moodboard for aesthetic purposes only. A/N: the fact this idea has been sitting on my drafts for over a year is just crazy. i finally found the time to put into words, and i know i’m a little late to the whole dbf!joel trope, but i’m a real sucker for it... hope you like this one! <3

No one could’ve ever said Joel was a great best friend.

For one, he was terrible at remembering important dates. His mind just didn’t catch hold of details like that—never had, really. He wasn’t the sentimental type, either. At best, he’d manage a pat on the back or a firm handshake, maybe even a call on Christmas if he remembered. Emotional displays weren’t in his nature, far too used to keeping things at arm’s length.

Luckily for him, Stephen never seemed to care much about these things. They’d been friends for over forty years—which is, well, a hell of a long time, especially considering each had gone off to carve out his own life. They’d trudged through both primary and secondary school side by side, and Joel felt Stephen’s absence like a hollow ache the day his friend left for university in another state.

Technology eventually offered them more ways to connect, but it didn’t make keeping up any simpler. The years had tested them, and somehow, they’d held on to the quiet strength of their friendship—a bond they’d forged across decades and distance, held steady like the roots of an old tree.

Stephen was the laid-back type, always down for anything as long as a cold beer was part of the deal. It was rare for him to lose his temper, having a way of letting nuisances slide. Joel could bend every rule, yet Stephen’s patience never wavered. He was unflappable, hardly bothered by Joel’s mood swings, which was what made them a match made in heaven. Nothing could throw him off.

Though Joel doubts Stephen would stay so calm if he knew what he’d done to his daughter. As mentioned, Joel’s not exactly what you’d call a good friend—particularly considering he’s slept with his best friend’s daughter. Just once, to be fair. One ephemeral, impulsive encounter. Right here, in this very house, exactly three hundred and sixty-five days ago.

His gaze drifts across the room, settling on you at a smaller table a few meters away, surrounded by your younger cousins, ages five to fifteen. He watches as you scroll absent-mindedly on your phone, your brow furrowed in concentration, only tearing your eyes away from the screen when one of the kids hurls a handful of salty peanuts at you.

You press your palms flat against the tablecloth, eyes narrowing as you scowl playfully at the child, a mischievous glint in your expression. “You’ve got ten seconds to run,” you utter in a tone meant to sound ominous, tickling his sides until he erupts in laughter, his giggles filling the dining room with raw joy.

Joel’s been here for over two hours, but he can’t recall a single detail about the night’s events. All he knows is you—he’s studied your every movement, following the shape of your silhouette through the crowd. He’s accepted a few drinks, engaged in shallow conversation with your relatives, trying his best to play the part of a man with nothing to hide. But despite his efforts, despite every attempt to appear unaffected, he feels a slow burn kindling in the pit of his stomach, an ache that curls through him in a deliciously destructive way.

It’s when you look up, locking eyes with him, that he nearly mutilates the chicken breast on his plate, the knife skittering over porcelain with a screech. He quickly mutters an apology, excusing his clumsiness and blaming it on one too many drinks. Meanwhile, you don’t quit glaring at him, a hint of a challenge dancing in your stare.

This shouldn’t feel the way it does, this hazardous, risky game you’re playing. At one time, he might’ve thought this was something only seen in movies, something imagined and unreal. But here you are, and here he is, and the indisputable hunger in your eyes is as real as anything he’s ever known.

Suddenly, his memories drift back to a year ago, to your grandmother’s 84th birthday—the night it all began.

Stephen had left Austin when he was eighteen to pursue a college degree. That’s how he’d ended up in New York, and from that point on, he never came back. It’d been amazing to see him as an equal when they were teenagers, but as they grew older, the only things they shared were the white hairs scattered all over their beards and the memories of much better days.

Whenever they got in touch—which didn’t happen often—your dad would talk about you. You were just a name without a face, an empty canvas. Close to graduating, with only a few subjects and finals left. Psychology was your major—weren’t you smart? Joel remembers typing back with a string of exclamation marks to show his contentment. His best friend’s daughter was a success; how could he not be happy?

One random day, Joel’s phone buzzed late in the afternoon, flashing with Stephen’s name. It was rare for them to talk outside the usual birthdays and holidays, so seeing his name on the screen sent a small jolt through him. A dozen scenarios raced through his mind as he picked up, each one edging between concern and curiosity.

Just like that, Stephen dropped the news without any preamble. “I’m moving back to Austin,” His voice came in clear, and there was something unusual about it, brisk but almost nostalgic. Joel gripped the phone a little tighter, processing the words. “In fact, I’m filling up the gas tank as we speak. There’s someone at home who wants to see you.”

That someone had been your grandmother. With a twinkle in her eye, she’d insisted on inviting Joel to her 84th birthday. “It’s the perfect chance for you two to reconnect,” she’d declared, her tone laced with warmth and hope. She adored Joel, practically worshipping the ground he walked on, often reminiscing about the vibrant young man he had once been.

Who could deny anything to an elderly person, especially one as cherished as her? He was strong, physically imposing, but not strong enough to resist her wishes.

The reunion was going as well as it could, given the circumstances. After all, it was a strange kind of delight, seeing his best friend for the first time in decades. Joel thought they’d do what friends do—sit back, drink, smoke, and trade stories about the good old days. 

Then you walked into the room, absolutely gorgeous and with a smile that was all teeth, and you reached out to shake Joel’s hand as you introduced yourself. The contrast hit him instantly—your skin was satin-like against his, smooth where his was rough and calloused from years of handling concrete and steel. A subtle heat bloomed where your fingers touched, the chill of the rings on your hand sending a shiver through him, as if his senses had sharpened in that brief instant.

You pulled away, taking a step back, your eyes flicking between him and your dad. Joel’s arm fell back to his side, his hand forming a tight fist, the bite of his nails embedded into his palm to keep him grounded. But he couldn’t stop himself from scrutinizing you—every detail of your face, the curve of your smile, the effortless way you carried yourself. Your beauty was at fault, not him. You were completely out of reach, yet close enough to marvel at. He was no more than a man, bound to notice the charm of a pretty girl like you.

That you happened to be the daughter of his best friend—that was just a cruel stroke of fate. 

“Oh, sweetie. I’m glad you got to meet Joel at last!” Stephen’s voice cut through his thoughts, an arm draping across Joel’s shoulders, pulling him into an affectionate embrace. “He’s that friend from school I’ve been telling you about.”

Stephen looked so at ease, so utterly pleased, that Joel could only swallow back the lump in his throat. What kind of sick joke was this? What could he have possibly done to deserve this twist of the knife?

With a soft laugh, you folded your hands behind your back, tilting your head to the right. “My father wouldn’t shut up about you,” you said, light and melodic, drawing him in like a lure. Joel found himself adrift in the sweet cadence of your voice, entranced by the delicate chain glinting at your throat, resting just above the neckline of your shirt, the v-cut hinting at a world of temptation.

He blinked owlishly, fighting the images clawing behind his eyelids. “Well, he’s a good man, your father,” Joel managed, his smile strained. Not because it wasn’t true, but because there was a blaring alarm in his head, warning him to get a fucking grip. He knew himself well enough to read the signs, the underlying meaning beneath these nerves, the quickened pulse, the quiet, undeniable urge to reach out and feel you.

He was gone already. He fancied you, and his mind raced with thoughts he knew he had no right to entertain. He imagined what you’d taste like, the way you might sound if he were between your legs, encouraging you to gasp his name. Yet, he was aware that these fantasies were as treacherous as they were forbidden, even more with you standing right in front of him. And your father, just inches away.

From the kitchen, someone called out to Stephen, and with a weary sigh, he unhooked himself from Joel’s shoulder. “Coming!” he shouted back, already angling himself toward the door. He glanced back at the two of you, half-smiling while rubbing his temples. “I forgot how exhausting it is to host a family birthday party. I’ll be right back. You two go ahead and chat without me.”

Fuck, no, Joel thought to himself. Don’t leave me here. Where the hell are you going?

Joel resorted to remaining silent, choosing instead to take a long sip of his beer to avoid the occasion of sin. He refused to look in your direction, fixing his gaze on anything that didn’t involve your bare legs—the same legs he’d just been eyeing in those damn denim shorts, which exquisitely hugged your thighs. But, then again, he shouldn’t even be noticing that.

As he peered down at the carpet, he couldn’t ignore the movement of your shoes as you stepped closer. He observed your fingers playing idly with the frayed edges of your shorts, your body inching nearer, and he braced himself in anticipation of whatever you might say next. When his eyes landed on yours, he was met with an aura of expectancy, a cocky smirk pulling at your lips.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, Mr. Miller,” you murmured, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed with effort. Letting your hand linger beside your face, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, glancing at him through your lashes. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Joel felt the flush rise to his cheeks, and there was no mistaking it—you were doing this on purpose. Were you trying to push him off balance, to see how far he’d bend before snapping? Was this just a game for you, a bit of mischief to spice up a family gathering? The idea irritated him, but he couldn’t entirely ignore the thrill woven into the discomfort. A quarter of his mind itched to play along, but the rest of him screamed to find the nearest exit.

“Y’can just call me Joel. No needa be so formal,” he mumbled, lifting the beer bottle to his lips once again, the bitterness spreading across his tongue.

“But I like Mr. Miller better.”

His mind conjured all those images of fire and damnation, of being dragged to some dark, smoldering pit. Rotting in hell, he could already see himself within the flames. Tugging at the collar of his flannel, now too tight and hot, he gave a rough, clearing cough. “M’gonna—go find your dad.”

He was glad you didn’t try to approach him in public again. For a few hours, he felt something close to tranquillity—not fully, though, as he could still hear echoes of your voice in the silences. Every so often, out of the corner of his eye, he’d catch you orbiting near him, lurking in his peripheral vision, even though you sat at a different table.

Later in the night, he wandered upstairs in search of the bathroom, instead stumbling upon your father’s childhood bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and he took the liberty to enter it, a familiar scent filling the room. He ran his fingers over the walls, still papered with posters he recognized well. It was as if time had paused there—everything remained as it had the last time he’d been in this very room. The framed portraits, the worn bedspread, and Stephen’s desk, scattered with foreign bills under a layer of glass, each one a memento from the different countries he had visited.

It was only a matter of time before you found him, a light knock on the open door drawing his attention. Joel turned on his heels, catching sight of you, acknowledging your presence with a slight bow of his head. You ambled toward him, curiosity alight in your steps, twisting the chain of your necklace, a restless gesture that betrayed the energy simmering beneath your calm exterior.

He scratched the back of his head, offering a half-hearted smile. “This isn’t the bathroom, right?” he joked, attempting a casual tone. The joke was a weak one, admittedly, but you laughed anyway, a nonchalant sound that showed the gleam of your teeth.

“No, I don’t think it is,” you replied, sliding onto the edge of the desk with an effortless ease. “What brought you here?”

“Birthday parties can be a bit overwhelmin', dontcha think?” 

“Totally.”

And then you went back to watching him, your eyes tracing his features with an almost stubborn intensity. 

“You gonna stop doin' that?” he asked, the words coming out sharper than he meant, though they didn't make you flinch.

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Lookin' at me all doe-eyed.” His voice didn’t waver, but he advanced in your direction. His knees nearly brushed against yours, the weathered denim grazing your bare skin, and only then did a flicker of uncertainty soften your confident stance. “Whatever it is you’re after, it’s not gonna happen. So quit tryin’.”

You drew in a slow breath, pushing yourself to your feet. “You sure about that?” Before he had the time to react, you were standing inches from him, your chest pressing against his, just close enough for him to feel the soft weight of your breasts. “Should I pretend, then, that I haven’t noticed you’ve been half-hard all night?”

Joel's jaw tightened, his teeth gritting almost painfully. His fists flexed by his sides, his entire body feeling heavier, muscles pulled taut by some invisible thread. "Watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” You hooked a finger inside his belt loop, tugging him that much closer. Your breath, fresh and minty, mingled with the faint scent of your perfume, and he inhaled both, heady on the mix. “You’re gonna teach me a lesson?”

There was only so much patience a man like him could summon, and you were a thorn in his flesh, determined and unyielding. He leaned in, voice gruff as he uttered three words that made your brows knit together. “Close the door.” You stayed frozen, lips parting in surprise. “Did y’hear me? M’not into exhibitionism. Close. The. Door.”

You did as he asked, obliging, stepping back to close the door before returning to your place. Without warning, he turned you around, pressing your palms flat against the cool glass of the desk, a sharp chill that made you yelp. His hand settled firmly on your back, guiding you down until your chest was flush against the surface as well. In one swift motion, your shorts were gone, followed by your soaked panties, a damp spot where your arousal had begun to seep through.

He slipped his fingers inside you first, his hand covering your mouth to stifle the needy whimpers escaping your lips. The roughness of his beard grazed your cheek as he hovered over you, his breath hot in your ear as he spoke. “Bein’ too fuckin’ loud, doll.” Matching the rhythm of the slow drag of his fingers, his hips pressed forward, grinding against the curve of your ass, each movement making his mouth go dry. “Y’want this cock that bad?” He nipped at your throat, and you, against his sweaty palm, mumbled what could have only been a muffled Yes. “Then I need y’to keep real quiet for me, alright?”

His jeans and boxers hung around his knees, his cock leaking and throbbing at the tip. Joel realized what true desperation felt like, dangerously close to busting his load at any given moment before even getting the chance to be fully inside you. On top of the desk, your body trembled, and you reached back, pulling your top higher up to bare more of yourself to him. He unclasped your bra with one hand, while his other guided him to your entrance, his lips pressing reverently against your spine as he pushed inside, savoring the heat of your walls wrapping around him for the first time. It certainly didn’t feel like anything he’d ever experienced in his fifty-six years of life.

It had been short, and harsh, and fast. Borderline animalistic, what experts would label as a quick fuck. The moment he breached your entrance, you begged for more, fucking yourself back onto him until his thighs met your skin. You acted as if possessed by a greater entity, diabolic, though Joel didn’t mind it. He relished it, welcomed it. But he couldn’t let you take the reins. He asserted his dominance, snapping his hips forward with a force that drew moans from the depths of your lungs. He was the one in control, driving himself deeper and deeper within you. Suffice it to say you seemed to love it, if the sounds he elicited from you were anything to go by.

It was what you wanted, what you needed. One way or another, he’d caught onto what those lingering glances throughout the party had signified. Every glance you’d thrown his way had been leading to this—a silent promise that whatever was happening had been destined to be the night’s climax.

You bit down on his palm as you reached your peak, tightening around him, and perhaps it was the thrill of it all, the knowledge that he’d need far more time to become well acquainted with your body, that had him chasing after you. Holding back until you came had been a feat, pulling out seconds prior to his release, stroking his length once before painting your skin with his seed. A low, primal groan escaped him as he slid his length between your cheeks, prolonging his high, each heated pulse marking you in a way that felt undeniably his.

As he regained his composure, he watched you swirl your thumb along your lower back, collecting a trace of his release, and bringing it to your lips to have a taste of him. You softly laughed when he cursed under his breath, turning your face lazily to the side. “Damn minx y’are,” he rasped, closing the gap between your mouths, his claiming yours in an urgent kiss. Your mewls faded beneath the insistent press of his mouth as he sought to suppress the strange pull in his guts, reluctant to confront the unfamiliar sensations churning within him.

Things wrapped up quickly after that. You both returned to your places, resuming the roles you’d stepped out of briefly: Joel had been in the bathroom; you had been on the phone with a friend. When he reappeared downstairs minutes after you, no one thought twice about his slightly damp hair.

For the remainder of the party, the two of you exchanged no further words. The time for him to leave came, and he offered only a nod of his head across the packed living room. It was a farewell only Joel would give, a subtle acknowledgment that left you wondering about its meaning. There were no explanations, no parting words.

The next time he saw your father, the mere thought of seeing you again terrified him. If it’d happened once, then the temptation would still remain undiminished, strong enough to awaken the lust and the longing veiled in silence. But you weren’t there anymore—back in New York, focused on finishing your semester at college. The surprise must have been evident on Joel’s face, a bewilderment that prompted Stephen to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Remember I told you she hasn’t graduated yet?”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember now,” he said, wishing to convince both your father and himself.

You were out of the picture, no longer around. Yet, the two of you now shared a secret. You still do, to this day. He’s no stranger to the notion that some things never seem to change. After all, he’s a creature of habit—same breakfast every morning, same brand of bread he’s been buying for years. Like all his other preferences, he’s come to realize he likes his women a certain way. And though he hates to admit it, you fit the bill perfectly.

Betty, Stephen’s mother, was turning eighty-five tonight. A seat with Joel’s name was saved at the big table; they wanted him there, his best friend and his best friend’s mother. How nice it was to actually feel wanted. He liked that feeling. Still, he’d had to bite his tongue when your father mentioned you’d be there, too. You had graduated at long last, with your birthday having been just a couple of weeks ago.

“Can’t believe she’s twenty-five already,” Stephen muttered with a chuckle, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Sitting beside him, Joel gripped the arm of his chair, sinking his nails into it. “Me neither, man.”

His choices had led him to this moment. The clinking of glasses rings in his ears, blending with laughter and the rich aroma of food that fills the air. None of it manages to distract him. He can't help but track you down, eyes scanning the room, relentless in their pursuit of yours. The need to see you goes beyond any shred of restraint he might have faked to have. Joel can’t muster the decorum to feign indifference—God, not when you’re near, when the pull toward you feels like gravity itself. He’s keenly, almost painfully aware, that he’s not even pretending to be indifferent, his interest etched plainly in the way his gaze persists, refusing to pull away.

It’s his first time seeing you in a year. A lot can change in that span of time. He can’t help but be amazed, because you look just the same as you did back then. Only your hair’s a touch shorter. He wonders if it’s even noticeable, or if he’s just spent so long memorizing your features that he’s losing his sanity. He bets it’s the latter.

A light pressure on his shoulder makes Joel jump, breaking down his reverie. He turns quickly, eyes widening. "Betty," he exhales, patting his chest with a smile, eyebrows lifted. "Jeez. Y’scared me."

“Y’alright, Joely? Y’look a bit pale.” The older woman reaches up, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead with a gentle familiarity. Through her lens, he’s still young. “Doesn’t seem like you’ve got a fever, though.”

"That’s ‘cause I’m not sick." Joel takes her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "How’s everythin’ goin’ so far? Got all these people together just t’celebrate ya’."

"It’s a wonderful night, sweetheart. So happy y’found the time t’be here," she replies, pinching his cheek in that affectionate way that earns her a quiet laugh from him. Her eyes then catch sight of a familiar figure. "Oh, look who's here. If it isn’t my beautiful granddaughter."

He stops smiling. In fact, he thinks he even stops breathing for a second as you intrude yourself into the scene, settling yourself beside your grandmother, flashing him a knowing grin. “I was getting kind of bored with the little ones.” 

“Y’know Joel, right, dear?”

“Yes.” A pause, a beat you draw out between breaths. “Yes, I do.”

Betty leans his way, her warm hand still on him. “Have y’heard the latest news? This young lady just graduated.”

“Stephen told me,” he answers, looking up at you with a reserved nod. “Congrats, kid.”

“Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

There’s that damn name again. Were he alone with you, he’d laugh in your face, but he can’t. Under the scrutiny of family and friends, he knows he’s cornered. Joel’s starting to believe you think you’re untouchable, that there are no consequences to your actions. You might look the same, maybe a little older, but that teasing, provocative spark in your eye hasn’t changed a bit.

“Always so polite, my child,” Betty says, cupping your cheek with a light pinch, a grandmotherly gesture perfected over the years which she seems to repeat often. “Any boyfriends back in New York?”

This would, without a doubt, be the perfect moment for him to excuse himself and stand up—a conversation he’d rather not be privy to. But with you positioned right in front of him, escape isn’t an option. “Still single, grandma,” you respond unfazed, as if you know exactly what you’re doing. “No one to worry about. Better like this, anyway.”

“But what’s the problem? There aren’t any boys y’like?”

He doesn’t even know what makes him say it—some impulse, some hidden tension surfacing—but he jumps in, his voice carrying a slight, sardonic edge. “Boys are more foolish than ever these days, Betty. Surely y’wouldn’t want her to settle for the first idiot who crosses her path.”

Betty clutches his arm, shaking her head in feigned shock. “Oh, not at all! It’s all about waitin’ for the right person. There’s no rush, for either of you. You’re still on your own, Joely?”

Time to drink again. He drains the last drops of alcohol remaining in his glass, feeling your eyes on him, intense and searing, and then he clears his throat, swallowing down the words he’d rather say. “Affirmative.”

“Well,” she sighs contentedly, patting each of your hands as though binding you both with some invisible thread. “Just means y’two have to wait a bit longer, right? Time has its way.” She chuckles, eyes soft with memory, turning to you. “Darlin’, this man here was quite the heartbreaker in his day. He and your dad would find all kinds of trouble with the ladies!”

“How so?” You cross your arms, playfully tilting your chin up. “Joel Miller, the charmer of the town?”

“Guess I’ve been known t’make a fool of myself,” he shoots back, silently cursing the moment he missed his chance to slip away. “Stephen got more fans than I did, though.”

“I did what?” Joel feels an elbow nudging his back, and there’s his friend, grinning in his usual easy way.

Joel's luck in life had been more bruised than blessed, a string of hardships that seemed amplified compared to what most people experienced. Being drawn in by you—in which category did that fall? Good luck or bad? He couldn't decide. Every glance and delicate smile you aimed his way stirred something reckless within him. Was it pure thrill, or a warning?

He laughs every time Stephen cracks a joke, but he’s barely listening, his mind half-tethered to the present. It’s like he’s watching himself from afar, observing his reactions as if he were an outsider. He isn’t stoned or drunk, just acutely mindful of your presence. He catches himself peeking up at you from where he sits, jaw tight, his brow creased. You meet his gaze with a slight squint, a polite look that hides something far more dangerous.

Boys are more foolish than ever these days. He’s sure of that much. They’re young, untested. But what about him? He’s no model of virtue, either. He’s made his share of mistakes, left good women behind—women who were willing to love him in spite of his flaws. They’d seen through the layers he wore like armor, and yet, in the end, he couldn’t hold on to any of them. He carried the ghosts of every past life, fragments of who he’d been and what he’d left behind, and he knew those shadows weren’t for everyone.

A thought pierces through him, sharp and sobering: what would Sarah think? His lovely daughter, grown and settled into her own life, would likely be mortified to know her father’s infatuation with a twenty-something. The weight of that realization sinks into his chest, and that seems to be his last straw.

He can’t possibly take it anymore. Rising from his chair, he mutters something to Stephen about needing fresh air and makes his way to the backyard door, exhaling deeply and gripping his car keys. The cool night air hits him, stepping outside, a temporary relief as he heads toward his truck.

Just as he’s about to open the door, he hears your voice. You call his name, your tone soft but distinct. He doesn’t turn, only lets out a long, weary sigh. “What?”

“Where are you going?” You stop a few steps behind him, watching the way his shoulders visibly tense. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” He faces you, almost snapping his neck in his rush to look at you. “Why would I be—I’m not mad at ya’.”

“Then what’s wrong? Why are you leaving so early?” 

He scrubs a hand over his nape, fingers pressing into the tension gathered there. “Would y’like me t’break it down for ya’, how messed up this is?” His gaze drops to the ground, unable to meet yours. “I’m riskin’ the only real friendship I’ve had here for… for somethin’ that I can’t even wrap my head ‘round. This isn’t okay, no matter which way I look at it.”

In that moment, it’s as if reality pulls you under. The mask of subtle, practiced arrogance falls apart, scattering in fragments around you. He watches, waiting for you to gather them up, to hide behind that composed veneer again. But you don’t move. You leave the pieces where they lie. Instead, you confront his gaze, unguarded, and ask, “Do you regret what happened between us?”

Another question. You seem to be full of them. They just keep coming, one after the other, as if you already had them prepared. I don’t, he thinks to himself, but would it do you any good if you knew it? “Don’ start with those mental games.”

“Then come back inside.”

“I know myself well enough to know what’s gonna happen if I do that, darlin’.”

Neither of you breaks the silence that’s settled between you, thick as the night air. You slip your hands into the pockets of your jacket, shoulders slightly hunched, head hanging. Once again, like all those times before, he’s struck by how young you are compared to him. The difference stretches between you like a chasm, bridged only by these stolen moments. The weight of his years presses down on him, the choices he’s made—the mistakes and the half-hearted attempts to mend them. He’s got decades on you, three of them to be precise.

Joel never thought of himself as an ever-lasting free spirit, the kind of man who clings to youth or pretends to be something he’s not. Right now, with you here, he feels reckless, like a boy again. Stupid, impulsive, like the foolish young men he used to shake his head at—the very ones he’d warned your grandmother about.

“You left without even saying goodbye last time,” you mumble, low but clear, as you scuff the toe of your shoe against the grass. “And now you’re doing it again.”

He inhales sharply, clenching his keys, feeling the edges of the brass biting into his palm. For a moment, he thinks the sharpness will give him something to hold onto, but he knows the sting is nothing more than a weak anchor. “You’re a smart girl. Don’ need me to spell this out.”

“I know exactly what you mean, trust me. I get it.”

“Then why do you keep pushing?” His pent-up exasperation slips through despite himself, and he can see the hurt flicker across your face, the way your forehead barely puckers as his words hit harder than intended.

Even as you look away, a trace of that hurt fading, you stand firm. You shake your head after a beat, seemingly trying to brush off your doubts and confusion. Joel can’t decipher if you’re feigning innocence—if you are, he thinks, you could be one hell of an actress. “I don’t know. I guess I want to see how far this can go.”

You take a small step forward, testing the waters. Your feet move cautiously, not aiming to scare him off. Each step draws you nearer until there’s only a whisper of space between you, close enough for him to catch your scent, and he has to force himself to peer down to meet your eyes. They hold a quiet intensity: pleading, wide and earnest, already trained on him. Gleaming like two lone stars cutting through a moonless, empty sky. 

It baffles him, the question forming unbidden in his mind. He goes even further, can’t help but wonder: why him? What is it that you see in him? What makes you keep coming back for more? You’ve already had a taste, a story you could tuck away, a secret to be shared with your friends someday around a campfire. So why, he would like to know, are you still here, seeking something from a man like him?

“I like you,” you blurt out, fingers drifting to skim over the worn fabric of his flannel, almost hesitantly. That tentative gesture sparks something raw in him, a low rumble of desire that feels like it’s been lying dormant for too long. Heat pulses through him, hot blood racing through his veins, awakening every nerve, each beat of his heart more insistent than the last one. “I think you like me, too.”

“You’re insufferable,” he bites out through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching so hard it nearly hurts. He closes his eyes, half hoping you’ll disappear, that he’ll find some reason, any reason, to call this off. Though when he opens them, you’re still there, waiting, unshaken. “I wish I knew how to stop this. How to walk away.”

“That’s not what you want.”

“We don’ always get what we want, kid. You’ll figure that out soon enough.” He means it as a warning, but even he hears the way his voice falters, his defenses crumbling in the face of your unflinching state.

You let out a slow sigh, your arms falling to your sides, eyes roaming over his features as if you’re memorizing every line. Your focus dips to his mouth. “Maybe,” you murmur, and he feels the warmth of your breath against his skin. “But some things are worth fighting for. And sometimes, those who don’t give up… get the best in the end.”

With a gentleness that stuns him, you lean in, bringing your lips to his in a featherlight kiss. You pull away, and he helplessly notices the way your lips part, how your breath hitches, and for a split second, the guilt becomes palpable, the significance of wanting a woman he knows he shouldn’t. You stand there, chest rising and falling, skin tingling, a faint trail of goosebumps visible where your neckline meets your chest. 

Apart from the glint in your eyes, he catches the persistent, quiet ache of want. He isn’t sure if it’s just physical attraction, if it runs deeper, or if that’s all it is for him, either. He doesn’t need to know. The simplicity of it all is a short-lived relief. It’s an easy escape, though, this bare minimum of understanding—you want him, he wants you. Let it be enough for one more moment, for tonight, just another memory he’ll have to lock away. Yet he’s aware, deep down, of his own pattern: promises broken just as easily as they’re made. He’s only fooling himself. The part of him that knows this isn’t something he’ll let go of so easily sits there, silently taunting him, daring him to make another compromise he won’t keep.

From where you remain frozen, he’s certain you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he weighs every possible outcome. “It’s gonna happen, isn’t it?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and before you can react, his arm slides around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and turning you toward the car door. The cool metal pressing against your back startles a gasp out of you, but the suddenness only heightens everything—the heat of his body, the toughness of his hold. 

He doesn’t waste time with words, having always been a man of action. His hand cradles your face, inspecting your features to later crush his mouth against yours. Your tongue finds his without hesitation, seeking him out, hungry and unrestrained. He savors your eagerness, the way your hands roam over him, clutching at his shirt, tugging him closer by the belt until your lower halves are pressed tightly. The taste of beer and mint clings to your lips, and a husky groan rumbles from him as your fingers find their place in the longer strands at the nape of his neck, twisting and pulling him impossibly closer. 

He could lose himself in this, the simple, electric thrill of kissing you, how you fit so perfectly against him. Hours could slip by, and he wouldn’t mind, but then reality pulls him back; it’s too exposed here, right outside his truck where anyone could stumble upon you. “Get in the car,” he rasps, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, fumbling to unlock the door. It takes him three tries, and he chuckles, feeling the warmth of your laughter beside him as you tease him.

Once inside, his mouth finds yours again, this time more urgently, his hand pressing against your back, tracing the line of your spine through the clothes. “Tell me y’want this,” he breathes, his kisses trailing down your throat, latching onto the tender skin there. “C’mon, baby. Tell me y’want it. Tell me y’want me.”

A soft, breathy sound escapes you as his mouth fixates on that sensitive spot just below your ear. You tilt your hips instinctively, craving contact in search of relief, and he shifts you onto his lap, guiding your thighs to settle over his. Desperately working to undo the buttons of his shirt, yearning to uncover him, you pant against his cheek. “J-Jesus Christ, I need you. Please, touch me. Anything will do. Just—”

He’s silently grateful for your choice of a dress tonight. It makes things easier for him, and he gets right to it, bunching the fabric around your waist, hands roaming over the soft skin of your hips before moving his fingers lower, tracing teasing lines over your clothed center. He can’t fully make out the murmured words you breathe into his ear, but your voice drives him like a lighthouse guides a sinking ship, and he adjusts his movements, pressing with more intention. The only sounds filling the car are his ragged breaths and your gasping moans, and he holds you close to his chest, cooing softly as you start to rock into his hand, asking for more. 

His fingers find their rhythm, circling your clit in deliberate flicks. Joel watches as you unravel, trembling in his arms, a hint of drool spreading over his shoulder from your parted lips on his skin. His grip tightens as he tugs your underwear down your legs, grinning when you kick them impatiently to the floor of the car. Now, as he strokes his digits up and down your folds, you turn to putty on his lap. In another world, he’d have you laid out in his bed, enjoying each inch of your body. But here, in the cramped, dim backseat, he keeps the lights off. He knows it’s reckless, yet that barely slows him down. His cock throbs at the very risk of getting caught, at the edge he’s walking just to have you like this.

“Goddamn, you’re soaked, aren’t ya’?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, at least not in any coherent way. He sinks his middle finger into your bare heat, searching your face in the dark, contemplating the fluttering of your lashes. His hand weaves into your hair, a firm tug guiding your gaze to his. Your head tips back, a moan spilling from your lips at the new sensation, rolling your hips into his palm with earnestness. “It’s gonna be a tight fit, huh? If this is how you’re grippin’ my fingers, I can’t imagine what that cunt’s gonna feel like wrapped ‘round me.”

Studies suggest that in those final, fleeting moments of life, memories flood the human mind—a last journey through a person’s years before crossing over. If he were to die after tonight, he knows your face would be there, etched into his last breath. He can almost picture it: struggling for air, teetering on the edge, with that reddish, towering figure of mortality looming over him. But even then, he’d find solace in the thought of you, thrown into oblivion. You’d grant him a last-minute reprieve, easing the ache. You’d be the one who’d hold back the shadows. This constitutes the apex of his life, and he knows he should be worried, yet intellectual dominance doesn’t stand much of a chance when confronting the heart of a man. Not when that heart, so long starved of its pulse, has finally found someone worth remembering.

He makes space for himself, thrusting his long fingers into you until he’s got your slick coating his palm. One hand settles firmly at the small of your back, guiding your movements, while he feels his collected composure faltering. You mouth at the rough stubble along his jawline when you start to get close, breathless whimpers clouding his thoughts. “Joel,” you call out to him, as if that alone would make wonders. “Oh, fuck. Please, I waited a whole year. I need to come.”

A whole year. You were his once a year, and he was yours, a bittersweet ritual bound by time. He never would’ve thought this party could bring him such pleasure, though he can’t pretend he’s against it. Last time, he hadn’t taken the chance to pull you under and make you fall apart as many times as he’d wanted. He’s intent on making up for that missed opportunity, determined to make you enjoy every moment.

He withdraws his fingers abruptly, and a sharp laugh nearly escapes him at your reaction. You reach instinctively, grabbing for his hand, trying to guide him back to where he belongs between your legs. But he’s already moving, maneuvering you down until you’re lying on your back, fully under his command. He lowers himself, replacing his fingers with the warm insistence of his mouth. The sound that escapes your lips as his mouth presses against your center is nothing short of a scream—a wild cry that fills the space around you. He’s grateful he parked far from the other guests, because that sound would turn more than a few heads. 

Joel laps at your arousal as if it's the fountain of youth, the very essence of everything pure and precious in the world. He presses down on your thighs until they rest on either side of him, unclamping your legs from around his head. The suppleness of your skin feels divine under his fingertips, and he brushes his thumbs over your trembling form, coaxing you into calmness, to let him have his way with you at his own pace. It's an absurd paradox—aiming to soothe you while his mouth continues its fervent worship, tracing intricate patterns against your most sensitive flesh. His beard, streaked with gray and freshly trimmed, glistens with your slick, and Joel smolders with all-consuming passion.

When his friends had told him to go out more, maybe find someone to date, he's certain they didn't mean this. The smart choice (scratch that: the correct one) would have been to pursue a woman his own age. But fuck it—he's spent a lifetime doing what's right. Every road he might've taken would've led him here, to this moment, with you. Part of him believes he must still have something left, some spark of appeal. To have a pretty little thing like you, so eager, so willing, offering yourself to him? He has to have something. His knees ache from where he kneels on the unforgiving surface, but the burn is inconsequential, and he’ll endure anything to be what you need.

Joel trails his hand up your body, over the curve of your breast, before gently groping it, his palm covering yours in a shared grip. He runs the tip of his tongue along your folds, his saliva mingling with your wetness, aquiline nose grazing your sensitive bud. “You’re tellin’ me you’re this tight ‘cause you’ve been savin’ yourself for me? You do know what t’say t’make a man happy.” He spreads you open slowly, his gaze lingering on the way your cunt glistens, a sense of satisfaction rippling through him. You remain silent, your breath shallow. “Still with me, sugar?”

“It’s just that—I’m so close.” You bite back a moan, nails digging into the soft leather of the seat. Joel hums in response, his lips closing around your clit. Agitation flickers across your face as you try to grind your hips against his mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

The pressure is gone as he notices your thighs quivering again, his movements halting immediately.

“No, Joel. Please—”

“You’ll come when I tell ya’.”

He’s having the time of his life. Damn right he is.

He suddenly realizes he's still dressed from head to toes, the heat building in his body becoming too much to ignore. With a frustrated grunt, he undoes his belt, yanking the metal zipper down, longing to rid himself of the constricting denim. A strangled noise escapes him as you suck on his neck, fisting his base, giving him a few purposeful tugs.

“Now, you’re gonna ride me,” he murmurs, making a pause to shrug his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor of the car, “and you’re gonna like it. Don’ want you t’hold back this time, understood?”

His back ends up against one of the fogged-up windows. The air is thick with the apparent scent of sex—a phrase he’d only ever heard in movies, but now, it’s undeniably real. Joel holds his cock, aligning the tip with your entrance as his lips crash against yours in a hungry kiss. A deep groan escapes him, vibrating over your mouth, nipping at your lower lip. The sensation intensifies when your wet interior welcomes him, velvet walls molding to his size. Your brows scrunch together at the stretch, a choked whimper catching in your throat. As your hips sink fully, your ass flush against his thighs, your body clenches around him, that abrupt tightness drawing a stuttering gasp from him.

“For God’s sake,” he exhales, the words rough as his forehead bumps into yours. His hand splays over your ribcage, fingers curling slightly. “Sweetheart, you’re—killin’ me here.”

“I can feel you everywhere,” you huff, your arms looping around his neck to pull him closer, holding your breath. He takes the moment to capture your nipple between his swollen lips, leaving a shiny trail of spit in his wake. You lift yourself, the motion teasing, before sinking back down onto his lap, taking him in fully. “Can feel you in my stomach.”

When you begin to move, Joel loses track of everything else. Time seems to stretch, bending and reshaping itself each time his tip finds some hidden place inside you. He’s fifty-six years old, yet in this moment, his soul feels infinite. Invincible. He brings his hand to your lips, thumb grazing over them before slipping inside. Your warm tongue envelopes it, and when you start to suck dutifully, muffling your moans, his body jerks in response. His eyes drift to your glistening chest, where a sheen of sweat makes your skin glow in the dim light. You’re the most captivating woman he’s ever seen, and he knows he’ll never look at anyone the same again. He can’t tear his gaze away, mesmerized by the way your body merges with his, the way you undulate your hips on top of him.

You move back and forth, and he drives into you, filling you to the brim with every calculated thrust. He thrusts upward, stealing the air from your lungs, the sharp motion making you sputter as your body struggles to keep up with his.

“That’s it.” His voice is a husky growl as he wraps his arms tightly around your back, your chests sticking together with sweat. His pace quickens, the rhythm becoming more insistent. “Takin’ it like a good girl. You feel exquisite, baby. Makin’ me lose my fuckin’ mind.”

“So big inside me,” you pant, your own pace faltering as you surrender to Joel’s unforgiving tempo. His hooded eyes flicker to yours, catching the way your pupils have swallowed up your irises, dark and blown wide with desire. A shiver runs through him as your fingers dig into his shoulders, your grip leaving faint crescents in his skin. “Missed your cock so much, Mr. Miller.”

Fuck, not that shit. If it’s possible, he grows impossibly harder. He pounds into you with renewed intensity this time, his singular goal to leave you speechless, boneless, completely undone. He wants you limp and shuddering, with nothing left to give. “Enough of that.” His hands find their place on the soft globes of your ass, molding and squeezing until the pressure has you mewling, the sweet sound shooting straight through him. His lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “Responsive everywhere, honey. Have any idea how much fun I’m gonna have with ya’?”

Who would’ve believed him back then? It proves this isn’t some once-in-a-lifetime fluke. It happened before, and now it’s happening again. He might as well surrender to it—accept his fate and move through the motions like a man resigned to what’s already written.

There’s a moment when your moans sharpen, turning high-pitched and dazed, and the way you constrict him sends his eyes rolling to the back of his skull, a guttural noise tearing from his chest. His movements still, clutching your waist to pin you in place, denying you the chance to move, to bounce on him.

Then you break. A sob wracks your body, tears spilling over and tracing hot paths down your cheeks. They gather, fusing together as they slide along your throat and pool in the hollow of your jaw before disappearing lower. “Asshole,” you hiss, the word fragile as you push your face into the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in his embrace.

“Sorry? Couldn’t catch that.” He makes sure to keep you securely tucked under his chin, tilting his lower half upward. “If you want me t’stop, just say the world and I will.”

He’s messing with you, plain and simple. He doesn’t actually expect you to take his words at face value. But you do, grinding down harder, impaling yourself further on the length of his cock, and your arousal trickles down, slicking the coarse hair of his thighs.  “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” Slotting your mouth over his, you attempt to move, chasing any sort of friction against your clit. Sadly, pleasure doesn’t come on its own—it’s Joel who can make you feel good, and he’s not obliging. His hand seizes your hair in a rough grasp, tugging sharply. Eyes fluttering shut, you hunch forward, submitting to the sharp edge of his control.

“What an impatient little thing y’are.” Joel grabs your thighs and turns you over, your back pressed against the leather seat. The brusque shift pulls him out of you, the cool air a cruel tease before he taps his head against your swollen folds, then fills you again in one powerful thrust, kissing your cervix in the process. A deep moan rips from your lungs, deep and guttural, as your legs tremble uncontrollably on either side of him. Your ankles dig into his back, fervent to keep him close. His balls rest heavy against your skin, full and aching for release. “Gonna give ya’ what y’want, okay? You’ve been on your best behavior,” he mumbles with his lips stuck to your forehead. “That’s a good girl. Think she deserves to come after all.”

Only then does he find his rhythm again, ramming into your drooling hole. For the third time tonight, he’s captivated by how you teeter on the edge of overwhelming pleasure. He has you eating out of his hand, taking all that he offers, and you do so willingly. He knows he could ask you for anything, and in exchange for an orgasm coaxed by him, you'd comply without thinking twice. In many ways, he’s not so different. He gathers some of your saliva, using it to moisten his fingers before slipping them between your bodies, rubbing your clit as he continues to hit your bundle of nerves. Where his stamina comes from, he has no clue, though he’s determined to keep pushing.

Your face becomes a living poem, each cry of yours adding to its verse. Your head nearly reaches the door, but he cradles it with his arm, ensuring you don’t hurt yourself. “Close,” you whine, struggling to keep your eyes from falling shut. “Joel, please. Let me—”

“Give it to me, darlin’.” Another thrust, another moan. “Drench me, c’mon. That’s what y’want, isn’t it? To come all over this cock?”

The way he’s worked you up has its rewards, leading to a release that feels like an eruption. You bite down on his shoulder, your cries growing louder, chanting his name without pause. It loses all meaning after being chanted so many times, but the way you say it still has an undeniable weight. He doesn’t mind it one bit, not when he’s finishing right after you plead him to fill you. His jaw hangs open as ropes of his seed spill inside you, and he sags against your frame, giving short thrusts to push his cum deeper into your warmth, your pussy milking him dry.

“Oh, God…” he groans, fumbling with one of your breasts, holding onto something for dear life. “Jesus Christ.” 

“Don’t pull out yet,” you say, grinning when you feel him twitch. “Stay a little longer.”

Too personal. Too intimate—dangerous in his books. Normally, he'd tuck himself back into his briefs, drive the woman he’s slept with home, and that would be the end of it. No happy endings in his story. So he’s surprised when he supports his weight on his forearms, claiming your lips in a voracious encounter of tongues and teeth. He caresses your cheek, tilting your face to deepen the kiss, and you sigh contentedly.

The two of you lapse into a heavy silence after that. He clears his throat, and says: “I should’ve asked you for your number that one time.” In the heat of the act, he’s being too honest. Regret will come knocking on his door once his excitement fades. His eyes bore into yours, dubious. “M’sorry for that.”

“Well, you could ask me for it now,” you admit from beneath him, and Joel pulls away for a moment, trying to gauge if you’re serious. He doesn’t think you’re joking. “To make up for lost time.”

This must be the onset of something else. He can't quite put it into words, but he feels it in his chest, in every place where your skin merges with his. He's no fortune teller, and there's no way for him to know where this path will take him, whether it leads to ruin or salvation. Though in this moment, he doesn't care—not now, at least.

At last, Joel blindly reaches for the pocket of his jeans with one arm. “How long are you stayin’ in Austin?”

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter one ♡

Summary: It’s Joel’s birthday, your best friend. As usual, you and Sarah are getting everything ready to celebrate, just like you have for years. However, while preparing dinner before Joel gets home from work, Sarah tells you that her dad has been seeing a mysterious woman for the past couple of weeks. This wouldn’t be an issue, except he’s been deliberately hiding it from you, even going out of his way to lie about it.

Though you try to keep your anger in check to avoid ruining his birthday, your emotions get the better of you later that night when it’s just the two of you. Joel doesn’t hold back either, sparking a heated argument that pushes you both further than ever before.

Word count: 9.4K

A/N: Okay, I was planning for the first chapter to be 4K words MAX, but my imagination went crazy with this lol I really hope you like it. I really enjoyed writing this <3 warning: ANGST! don't forget to leave feedback, tell me what you think!

If you want to be on the tag list, let me know too.

You met him on the night of your twenty-second birthday, at the small party Cassie had put together for you in her dimly lit apartment. You hadn’t wanted much of a celebration, nothing bigger than a few close friends, and certainly not a group of strangers. But when Brianna swept in, holding hands with a man you didn’t know, and introduced him as her boyfriend, you felt a vague flicker of annoyance, the kind that accompanies unmet expectations.

"I thought it was just going to be us," you mumbled to Cassie, catching her in the kitchen as she poured herself another glass of wine.

She looked at you, her cheeks already flushed, eyes bright. "They're a few of my friends, too; they’re nice—you’ll like them if you give it a chance." She smiled, urging you to relax, as though she could tease you out of your mood. "It’s your birthday; don’t be so sullen."

"I didn’t know Brianna was bringing her boyfriend," you said quietly, as Cassie started back to the living room.

She paused, giving you a half-smile over her shoulder. "Neither did I, actually," she admitted, lowering her voice. "Apparently, they've been together for about a month. She’s really into him."

And she was. Brianna clung to him all night, her laughter spilling out freely, unrestrained and buoyant from the wine. It wasn’t long before someone suggested karaoke, and as voices rang out in the next room, you slipped quietly back into the kitchen, craving a moment of solitude. You were surprised to find Brianna’s boyfriend there, leaning against the counter, scrolling absently through his phone with a glass of water in hand.

He looked up, straightened, and offered you a tentative smile. “Oh, hi. Happy birthday,” he said, his voice warm but reserved. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier…”

“No worries,” you replied, your tone reassuring. “Thanks.”

He hesitated, as though weighing what to say next. “Are you having a good time?”

You gave a slight shrug. “It’s…” but before you could finish, he cut in with a knowing smile.

“It’s okay. I don’t love my birthday either.” His eyes glinted in the soft kitchen light, and you felt a small smile tugging at your own lips.

You looked at him then, really looked at him, allowing yourself the indulgence. “I didn’t want to admit it,” you said, feeling the faintest hint of heat rising to your cheeks. “What was your name again?”

“Joel,” he answered, his gaze drifting briefly back to his phone. “Sorry, I’m a little on edge tonight. Left my daughter with a new babysitter. I think she’s having a rough time.”

Your eyebrows rose in mild surprise; you hadn’t pegged him as a dad. You moved closer, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice and asked, “How old is she?”

“Four. Her name’s Sarah.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you could tell he was tense. “It’s only the second time she’s been with this sitter, and apparently, she’s been crying all evening.”

“Oh, poor thing,” you murmured sympathetically. “She’s little. Changes like that must be hard on her.”

He sighed, his gaze drifting to the side as he typed something quickly on his phone. “I should probably get going. Brianna won’t love that idea; we’d planned to stay out…” He paused, eyes flicking up to meet yours, worry etched across his face. “You think she’ll be too mad?”

“No,” you assured him, though you knew Brianna wouldn’t be pleased. “Go be with your daughter. She’s little; she needs you. Brianna will understand.”

A grateful smile spread across Joel’s face, and for the first time, you noticed the faint dimple on his cheek. For a fleeting second, you wanted to reach out, trace it with your thumb.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on you in a way that felt unintentional, yet steady. “I hope your night gets better once karaoke is over,” he added with a quiet laugh. "Wish me luck."

You chuckled, meeting his gaze. “Good luck, Joel.”

He left with that same soft smile, and you watched him go, his warm brown eyes leaving an odd impression, like an unclaimed memory. And, as expected, Brianna didn’t understand. She spent the rest of the night sulking, casting sharp words at Joel through her bitterness.

“You knew he had a daughter when you got with him, this was bound to happen at some point,” Cassie told her, fed up with the other's complaints.

You didn't hear the answer, as you were distracted by watching the colorful pictures someone had put on the television.

You heard nothing more from Joel for a couple of weeks, until Cassie blurted out the gossip one morning while you were having lunch at her house.

“He broke up with her,” she began to tell you. “He told her she wasn't being empathetic and that he couldn't drop everything to party with her as if they had no responsibilities.”

It was no surprise. Brianna was a woman who lived at night; she was twenty-three years old and enjoyed it with the freedom that was rightfully hers. You couldn't blame her for wanting to have fun with her boyfriend. But Joel lived a very different reality than she did; at twenty-eight, he had a daughter to take care of, routines to follow, and a lot of work to do.

Although you thought it would take her longer to get over him, it wasn't long before she met a guy at her gym and got into it with him, outgrowing Joel in a matter of days. But for some reason, Joel’s warm, steady gaze stayed with you, like a whisper that hadn’t fully faded.

Years passed quietly, slipping through your fingers like sand until, suddenly, it was your twenty-sixth birthday. This time, the scene was different: you’d moved into your own place just two days earlier, and there was little thought of celebrating. Instead, the weekend found you alone, arranging your things and attempting to bring order to the chaos of a new home.

It was a crisp Saturday morning, and you stood in your front yard with a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice in hand, humming along to some eighties tune drifting in from the living room. The song—one of those upbeat ones that made even housework feel light—had lifted your spirits, and you moved rhythmically as you pushed plastic flowers into the dirt along the front path, sending little puffs of air to make the petals flutter.

You were lost in your task when you heard soft footsteps behind you, instinctively making you turn.

“Oh, hello,” you said, quickly masking the slight surprise the girl’s sudden appearance had given you.

She looked at you with wide, curious eyes, seemingly unfazed by her solo adventure.

“Hi. What’s your name? Do you live here?” she asked, her gaze shifting from your face to the flowers in your hands.

Glancing around for any sign of her parents, you noted her relaxed stance, like she’d been coming here all her life. Smiling, you nodded and gave her your name. “Yep, I just moved in.”

She looked unimpressed. “This house was empty for a while. I didn’t like the kid who lived here before. He was a pain in the ass—”

“Sarah!” came a sharp voice from behind, making you jump slightly. Heavy footsteps approached, and you squinted against the sun to see a figure striding toward you, his features obscured by the bright morning light.

When he stepped closer, his face came into focus, and your breath caught. You knew him.

“Sarah, you can’t just leave the house like that,” he said sternly, a furrow in his brow, his tone more parental than reproachful.

He turned to you, and the scowl softened as recognition dawned.

“Joel,” you murmured, the name slipping out before you even meant to say it aloud.

His expression shifted into a surprised smile, and that was all it took to break the ice between you. You explained that you’d just moved in and were still settling. Joel offered to help with anything you needed, including taking a look around the house to ensure everything was in order. He formally introduced you to Sarah, now eight years old, who had nearly scared him to death by sneaking out. She had his same lively spark in her eyes, a brightness that seemed familiar.

That evening, Sarah invited you to dinner with them, leaving Joel with little choice but to agree. And one dinner became many, as evenings blurred into weekends, and you found Joel’s presence in your life weaving into something inseparable from your routine. He started popping by to help with small projects, fixing kitchen cabinets or adjusting the wobbly front steps, visits stretching into movie marathons or lazy conversations with cold beer in hand. Days flowed into evenings of chatting over the meals you cooked to share with Sarah, and sometimes her uncle Tommy. Though Joel claimed he was no cook, his barbecues were legendary, and you couldn’t deny you looked forward to them most of all. And soon enough, he was there for everything, from driving you to doctor’s appointments to accompanying you on those grocery runs he pretended to hate. He even started showing up early on days he knew you’d need a ride. Over time, he became the best friend you’d ever had, a safe place, someone who felt like family. With everyone else scattered—Cassie overseas, old friends moved away—Joel became your rock.

It wasn’t something you dared to admit to yourself often, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And maybe that’s why you never allowed yourself to voice those little fleeting thoughts, the ones that flitted through your mind every now and then: how safe you felt whenever he threw his arm around your shoulders, or how good he looked reclining on his couch after a long day. Or how perfect it felt when the three of you—Sarah dozing on his lap, you leaning into his shoulder—sat together in the warm silence of a Sunday afternoon. There was an ache, too, a quiet pang whenever he mentioned another woman. Thankfully, that was rare; Joel once told you, with a shrug, that he “wasn’t really looking for that sort of thing.”

Sometimes, you watched him carefully as you talked about your own dates, hoping to catch a glimmer of jealousy in his gaze, some subtle cue that maybe he felt the same way. But there was never anything you wanted to see, and you always felt silly for looking. So, you buried it all. The risk of ruining things with Joel wasn’t worth the confession.

One afternoon, however, your emotions almost escaped your eyes when, while preparing Joel's birthday cake, Sarah dropped a piece of news that caught you off guard. She told you, with her usual nonchalance, that Joel had gone out the night before with someone new.

“Yeah, it’s like… the third time they’ve gone out,” Sarah mentioned while spreading cream on the sponge cake. “I don’t know her name or anything, just that he met her in line at the bank,” a laugh choked in her throat, amused at imagining her father flirting with some woman in a public space.

You forced a smile, laughing along like it was funny.

"And who stayed with you last night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

Not that Sarah was necessarily a baby; she was already twelve and extremely independent. But Joel never left her alone if he went out for the night, he knew how much she loved spending time with you watching movies and eating junk food. Then, when he arrived, you would pester him with gossipy questions and he would pretend to get angry and then answer every one of them.

“Uncle Tommy," she said, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “We had fun, but I kinda wished you’d come too. Hey, what do you think?” she fingered the cream neatly arranged with the angled knife.

“It's perfect,” you smiled at her, not waiting too long to ask the question you wanted so badly. “Why didn't you call me then?”

Sarah started sprinkling colorful sprinkles on top of the cream and looked at you for a second when she noticed the tone in your voice at the last word. She didn't seem to think much of it.

“You were busy, weren't you? Dad said you had something to do.”

Her answer hit you like a small weight to the chest. Joel had purposefully left you out. He’d even made an excuse for Sarah’s benefit. So, there had been three dates—three times he’d kept this woman a secret. A small knot formed in your stomach as you forced yourself to smile, still watching Sarah as she concentrated on the last of the sprinkles.

In the kitchen, you were running your hand through the steam from the beef stew on the stove—Joel’s favorite—when the door opened. His footsteps grew louder, approaching, and you nervously adjusted the dress you’d chosen, one you knew he liked, though he’d never said it. It was your favorite too, a cream-colored sundress with delicate shoulder ties.

Sarah sprang forward, covering his eyes. “Don’t look, the table’s not ready.”

You hurried to set the glasses in their places, your hands a little shaky as you moved, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up your cheeks.

“I don’t need to see it—I can smell it, and it smells incredible,” Joel grinned beneath Sarah’s tiny hands, which she’d plastered over his eyes, half to keep him from sneaking a glance, half just because she could.

“Too bad you don’t smell incredible,” Sarah retorted with a smirk, wrinkling her nose. "Go take a shower!"

You laughed, catching Joel’s raised brow at her.

“You’ve got five minutes,” you said, placing the lid on the simmering pot.

Joel snorted, brushing Sarah’s hands away from his face.

“That’s the smell of a hardworking man,” he replied, feigning offense as he turned for the stairs. “Y’all oughtta know.”

*

Later, the three of you sat around the table, and Joel took his first bite of the stew, eyes widening, a kind of bliss washing over his face. He tossed his head back and groaned.

“Sweet Glory,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Thank you for this.”

“Oh, come on,” you teased, though part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of something between irritation and flattery. “You say that every time I cook for you.”

He shook his head, smiling as he chewed, then spoke softly, his gaze slipping downward.

“I’m not exaggerating—I love everything you do.” A pause, and then a quick, awkward clarification. “I mean, everything you cook.”

The clarification was like a line drawn in the sand, a boundary etched by his voice alone.

You smiled weakly and inwardly thankful when Sarah spoke, telling you about something that had happened at her school that week and distracting you from the question that was spellbinding your tongue. You were dying to ask it, to look him in the eye and ask: who did you go out with last night? Why didn't you tell me? Is it someone I know? Is that it?... But you didn't, you stayed quiet and participated in the pleasant conversation, celebrating his birthday as he deserved. After all, no matter how much it angered you that he kept things from you, it was still his special day.

After dinner, Sarah forced Joel to sit in front of his cake, two lit number candles glowing in front of him. You turned out the lights, watching as the light from the flames reflected beautifully in your best friend's dark pupils.

Joel was wearing a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his hair was still barely damp from the shower he'd taken before, and his sun-kissed tan face looked smooth, decorated by the beard and mustache you loved so much. Behind him, his shadow vibrated and spread across the wall with grandeur.

“Make a wish!” Sarah cheered, bouncing with excitement as she placed her small hands on his shoulders.

Joel smiled, closed his eyes, and blew out the candles. In the dimness, you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

“Happy birthday, old man,” you whispered, your hand resting gently on his neck.

He reached for your hand, pressing a warm, lingering kiss into your palm. “I’m not that old,” he muttered with a mock frown.

Sarah giggled, holding a knife to cut the cake and licking a dab of frosting from her thumb. “You’ll be forty in four years,” she teased, catching your amused expression.

Joel scoffed, scratching his stomach as he stood back up, turning to you with a smile that made you forget, just for a moment, all the questions you were holding back. There was only Joel, his rumbling laugh, Sarah’s delighted giggles. It felt like home.

Sarah gave him his gift first: a copy of Curtis and Viper 2 with the deleted scenes and a mystery box. When he opened it, a smile formed on his lips.

He pulled out a weathered wristwatch, broken for months, now polished and repaired.

“I took it in to be fixed. Do you like it?” Sarah asked, eyes wide with anticipation.

Joel nodded, eyes softening as he extended his wrist for her to put it on. “It’s perfect, baby.”

“Let's watch the movie later,” Sarah said. “You can't fall asleep.”

“Let's see which one of us falls asleep first,” you joked, and you were right. Joel had been working all afternoon and Sarah had been yawning for hours.

You turned and picked up the box resting beside your feet, handing it to him. When he opened it, Joel pulled out a black cloth garment and a paper envelope. He tugged at the cloth, revealing a thick, soft jacket. He read the label and a smile appeared on his lips.

“I saw it and thought of you,” you said, mimicking his gesture.

“How much did you pay for this?”

“Don't worry about it, it had to be yours,” you noted as you stood up and took it from his hand. “Here, stand up. Let's see how it fits you.”

“And what if it doesn't fit? Do we have to travel to Rome to exchange it?”

You laughed, then helped him slide it over his shoulders, a comfortable, familiar movement.

“I know you by heart, I couldn't be wrong.”

“So?” he asked, smiling coquettishly. Your stomach tingled and you decided to ignore it.

“Lookin’ good, Dad,” Sarah chimed in, her innocent smile lighting up the moment. “Bet someone special will love it, too.”

Joel smiled weakly, as if he was trying to tell her something with his eyes, and for a second you hated the thought of your gift being enjoyed by someone else. You imagined him getting ready to go out with her -whoever she was-, running his hand through his hair and perfuming his neck as he did from time to time whenever he went out with someone. You knew that perfume perfectly, you'd recognize it anywhere, though you were sure it wouldn't smell the same on anyone else. Joel added his own scent to it, and you loved it.

“Okay, now, open the envelope,” you urged, your voice unintentionally sharper than you meant.

Joel sat back down and opened the blue paper envelope. He read the note carefully and when he looked up, you and Sarah were looking at him excitedly.

“Sunshine, did you pay for this?” he asked you, a soft disbelief in his tone.

Inside were three plane tickets. Sarah had helped you pick the destination—somewhere none of you had been but would love.

When you nodded, he let out a soft sigh. “Let me cover part of it.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “It’s my birthday gift to you, Joel. It’s all settled. You need a vacation, and we certainly do too, don't we?”

“That's right,” Sarah confirmed, smiling complicitly.

He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re too good to me.”

But he smiled, tucking the tickets back into the envelope.

Time with Joel and Sarah was easy. When you were with them, hours slipped away, and the heaviness of everything else seemed to dissolve. You felt at home, and sometimes it left you wondering about Sarah’s mother, about how anyone could have left them. Didn’t she see how extraordinary they were? Didn’t she realize what she’d lost?

You thought about this as you relaxed on the couch beside Joel, Sarah curled up with her head on your shoulder. Her breathing had slowed, and you smiled, realizing she’d fallen asleep. Three glasses sat on the coffee table: the wine Joel had opened just before dinner—a bottle you’d brought back from your last trip to Italy—and Sarah’s lemon soda. Joel snorted softly, glancing at his daughter with a smirk, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Fallen soldier,” he whispered, smiling.

You laughed, brushing a hand over Sarah’s hair. “She’s tired. She was up all afternoon making your cake, you know? Tried the cream three times before she got it right.”

Joel sighed, an apologetic note in his voice. “I know, sorry I was late. I know she wanted me here sooner.”

Curtis and Viper 2 was halfway through on the TV, forgotten in the background. Joel straightened, signaling he’d take Sarah to bed, and you shifted to make room as he lifted her, carrying her toward the stairs. You watched him disappear down the hallway, and as the house fell into a quiet lull, that familiar disappointment stirred in your chest. Now, without Sarah’s chatter, you’d have to keep pretending that nothing was wrong.

You took a long sip of your wine, finishing off the glass just as Joel returned. He sat down heavily beside you, causing the cushions to sink as he let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes before giving you a grateful look.

“Thanks for today, I had a great time. Sarah was very happy,” he said quietly, a warm smile appearing on his lips.

“I'm glad, hun. Although the credit goes to her, I just made dinner.”

“Doesn’t matter. You helped her, and I’m grateful. I mean that. For today, and for… all these years.” His voice softened, almost reverent.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered, feeling your pulse pick up as he leaned closer, his brown eyes unreadable but soft. “You’re my family, both of you. Really, I’m the one who owes you thanks.”

He shook his head and leaned back, taking another sip of his wine.

“Not at all,” he replied, leaning back again.

You watched him for a moment, turning the weight of your question over in your mind. If you said something, he’d make an excuse. If you kept silent, the doubt would eat at you. You tried to fix your gaze on the TV, on anything other than his profile in the dim room. But the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“So, what did you do last night?”

He tensed beside you, so subtly that only you could’ve noticed. “What?”

You tried to keep your tone even, hoping you didn’t sound like you’d spent all day thinking about it. “I just… didn’t see your truck out there, thought maybe you were gone or something.” It was a lie; you had fallen asleep on your couch last night, you hadn't even noticed Joel was gone.

Joel seemed to measure his words carefully. “Oh. Yeah… I just went out for a beer with Tommy,” he answered, his tone a little too casual.

Heat crept up your face, disbelief taking root. He really was holding out on you for some reason, wasn't he? The man was lying to you, and not very cleverly. Tommy had been with Sarah, what if you had seen him, hadn't he thought of that? Apparently not. 

It took a moment before you could bring yourself to say anything, watching as he glanced at you with an uneasy smile, waiting for you to believe him.

“Joel,” you murmured, not quite able to keep the accusation out of your voice. “You’re lying to me.”

He gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, but you didn’t let him off so easily. Before he could say anything, you spoke again.

“Tommy was with Sarah last night, here,” you pointed out, your voice firmer this time. His silence told you everything, his face drawn and uncertain as he realized you’d caught him.

After a long pause, he looked down, his voice unusually flat. “Alright, yeah. I know.”

The admission was so casual it took you by surprise, but you shook your head, feeling the ache of frustration and betrayal creep in.

“Why would you lie to me?” you pressed. “We’re friends. Why wouldn’t you tell me you’re seeing someone?”

Joel sighed, avoiding your gaze, his eyes instead locked somewhere in the distance. “It’s… it’s nothing serious,” he mumbled. “Just getting to know her. Don't make such a fuss out of it.”

“What? what you're saying doesn't make sense. You’ve kept it hidden, avoided every chance to be honest about it. Why?” you asked, trying not to let the hurt seep into your voice.

“It’s not like that,” he insisted, but his voice sounded unsure.

“So if I call Tommy right now, he’ll tell me the truth? Or did you ask him to keep this from me too?”

Finally, he met your gaze, his eyes scanning your face, reading the frustration and hurt you’d tried to keep buried. You could see it in his eyes, that familiar tug of defiance, a flash of something deeper than guilt or secrecy.

“What if I did?” His voice was almost philosophical, his gaze intense and challenging. “This is my private life. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, not even you. Do I?”

You drew in a sharp breath. His words struck like a slap, but you steadied yourself. “You’re right, Joel. You don’t owe me explanations. But you don’t have to lie to me, either.” You looked down, feeling your voice start to waver. “You’ve never hidden your relationships from me before.”

He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face and slumping back against the couch.

After a few seconds, he finally looked at you, a look of exasperation crossing his face.

“Because of this.” He gestured between you, his tone gentle but firm. “This reaction, right here, is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

What Joel was saying didn’t make sense. Your frustration wasn’t over him seeing someone else; it was something else entirely, something more fundamental.

“Oh, just stop,” you snapped, voice sharp. “I’m not mad because you’re dating someone, Joel. I’m mad that you lied to me. They’re two completely different things.”

He took a breath, settling back on the couch, and turned to face you, a guarded expression crossing his face. “No, it’s always the same thing. Remember the last time I was seeing someone?”

And you did, briefly. A year ago, one of his friends had introduced him to his cousin—a woman who had just moved to town. She was polite enough, but her smiles had a brittle quality to them, and when she met Sarah, her warmth never extended beyond a single, dismissive greeting. The indifference was obvious, at least to you, and maybe you’d let that show a little too openly. Joel had caught on quickly, and after that, things with her fizzled out.

“That was different,” you argued, exasperated. “She wasn’t nice, Joel. She had zero interest in Sarah.”

He gave a bitter, half-smile. “Maybe, but it wasn’t your job to manage that. I can handle my own relationships. But you always—” he paused, thumping his chest with a finger, “you always step in. Always get defensive.”

“That’s not true!” Your voice rose as anger crept in, heating your face. “You’re just making excuses. Date whoever you want, Joel, I don’t care. But don’t lie to me, don’t insult me with these flimsy excuses. Or if you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”

He clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening, something fierce sparking in his eyes. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and measured, the words hanging between you like a dare.

“Sure about what?” Your brow creased in confusion, the pulse in your chest picking up, a flurry of anger and… something else you couldn’t place, mingling with the haze of the wine.

His eyes narrowed, holding yours, unflinching. “That you don’t care. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Because I know you, i know you to well to know you’re just jealous.”

Jealous. He thought you were jealous.

He had missed the point completely. Your feelings for him were complex, that much was true. But you had learned, or thought you had learned, to carry them quietly. Your friendship with him had come to feel like a sturdy house you could live inside without having to ask too much of it. Having him in your life was enough.

But now, you felt that house shift, cracks spreading through the walls. His inability to trust you hurt more deeply than you’d expected. The openness you’d once trusted was fracturing. You felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes, the words he’d thrown out so casually cutting to the quick.

“Fuck you, Joel,” you muttered, standing abruptly, storming to the door and slamming it shut behind you. You barely heard him call your name as you left, fury driving you down the front steps, the cool night air biting at your cheeks.

Honestly, he could go fuck himself.

Just as your hand reached your front door, his footsteps closed in behind you, his strides fast enough to catch up. You tried to close the door before he could reach you, but his hand caught it just in time, his voice heavy with irritation.

“Just go away, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him. “I don’t want to see you again.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” His voice was calm, almost pleading.

You stepped back, reluctantly letting him into the foyer. He’d have come in anyway.

“I mean it, God. Go home,” you insisted, your voice wavering, betraying the anger mixed with something else.

He shook his head, taking a few steps closer, his jaw tight. “Can we just talk?”

“Talk?” you repeated incredulously. “Talk about what? About how wrong you are?”

He didn’t flinch, but his eyes darkened. “Don’t act like what I said was crazy,” he said, voice steady but a little sharper now.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up. “Oh, so now I’m jealous, is that it? Then, by your logic, you must’ve been jealous too, right? Like last month, when Travis asked me out. Because if that’s the case, then we’re having the same conversation, aren’t we?”

Joel clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Travis is just a jerk. And I don’t like him, plain and simple.”

Travis Dunn, your neighbor, had moved in a few months after you did. Handsome, tall, and friendly, everyone on the street adored him—everyone except Joel. He couldn’t seem to stand him, though Travis was always polite to him.

Last month, when Travis had asked you out, Joel had practically laughed in your face when you told him about it, muttering something dismissive as if the very idea was absurd. You’d told Travis you were busy, though deep down you knew the real reason you hadn’t accepted was because of Joel’s disapproval.

You shook your head, exasperated. “Travis isn’t a jerk, Joel, you just don’t like him. He’s nice, honestly, much nicer than some people, if we’re being honest here. Everyone loves him; you’re the only one who has a problem with him.”

“Then everyone’s as much of an idiot as he is, sunshine.”

“Oh, really? Or maybe… you’re jealous of him?” Your tone was teasing, but you felt the shift as soon as you said it.

Joel’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. He ran his tongue over his lips, shaking his head slowly, twice.

“Don’t turn this on me,” he said. “This isn’t about Travis or me.”

“No?” you shot back, voice edged with challenge. “So if I go tomorrow and say yes to him, that wouldn’t bother you at all, right?”

He stepped closer to you, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen in him before. The air seemed to thicken, his presence so intense it felt as though it wrapped around you. He leaned in, his face close enough that his words brushed your skin.

“You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s your fucking life.”

“And you can do whatever you want too, Joel. That’s the fucking point!” you nearly shouted, hands pushing against his shoulders, shoving him away. “I don’t care what you do! It’s already clear you don’t get it, you don’t get anything, ANYTHING!”

Joel staggered back for a split second, but it wasn’t long before he closed the distance again, though he didn’t get as close this time.

His voice was lower, a thread of something hard in his tone. “If you’re so insulted by the idea of being jealous, maybe that’s something for you to think about. Ever thought of doing a little introspection?”

“Are you drunk, Joel?” you asked, eyes narrowed, softening your voice a fraction. The argument was exhausting you, and the anger left you feeling hollow.

He laughed, an odd, choked sound. “Oh, c'mon, you know one bottle of wine ain't enough to get me drunk.”

“Yeah, but you’re tired, and you’re not exactly young, Joel,” you said, brushing past him, his gaze glued to you the entire time. “Alcohol hits you differently now. Just go home, leave me alone.”

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, and maybe then you can run across the street and fuck Travis Dunn, if you want it so badly,” he shot back, impatience tinging his voice as he turned toward the still-open door.

The words hit you like a slap. You froze for a moment, the anger washing over you in a wave. Before you could think twice, you rushed up to him, gripping his arm tightly to force him to turn and look at you.

“What the hell did you just say, Joel?” you hissed, grabbing his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as you backed him up until his shoulders hit the wall by the door. “Go on, say it again!”

Your breaths came fast, chest rising and falling as the rush of anger pushed tears to your eyes. You couldn’t believe he’d actually spoken to you like that, cutting right through to something raw and vulnerable. He’d never spoken to you like that before. Maybe he was a little drunk, or maybe he was losing his mind.

But there was no softness in his gaze, no hint of the Joel you knew. His stare was sharp, almost wild with something simmering underneath, something you didn’t understand. To you, this whole argument made no sense, at least not his reaction.

Joel’s grip on your wrist was firm, almost grounding, as he pulled you closer, pressing your palm against his chest. “I can’t stand that asshole, but go ahead and fuck him if you want,” he spat, voice laced with frustration. “Go fuck the whole neighborhood while you’re at it. I really don’t care anymore.”

His words were harsh, designed to cut, but they only drew a laugh from you—sharp and derisive. A tear slipped down your cheek, uninvited.

“What, did you ever care?” you asked, your voice trembling on the last syllable, thick with emotion.

But Joel didn’t respond, and the silence ignited a fire in you, something that swirled beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

“Do you know why we’re friends, Joel?” Your pulse quickened, each beat like a drum in your ears. “Because it just works between us. There are no ulterior motives. You know why? Because I don’t like you like that. You’re not even my type, and you never will be. And no, I’m not jealous that you’re dating some woman you’ll probably dump in less than a month, so get the fuck over it and leave me the fuck alone!”

You watched as his gaze flickered between your eyes, uncertainty warring with something darker. Suddenly, with an unexpected strength, Joel tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed you back hard against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your back hit the unforgiving surface.

His expression had transformed, those deep, dark eyes piercing you like arrows. His breath quickened, crashing against your face, and you could feel your lower lip tremble as he pressed even closer, pinning you against the wall.

“You don’t know how to lie,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your cheek.

The sensation was unbearable; his body pressed against yours, heat radiating off him and melting you inside. You could feel the edge of something primal, something that could tip either way. But suddenly, clarity surged through you. With a burst of strength, you pushed him away, breaking free from his grasp, forcing him to pull back just enough for you to gasp for air.

But the distance felt worse. In his eyes, you recognized something you’d never seen before—desire, raw and unfiltered. It clawed at you, igniting an inexplicable need. A sigh escaped your lips, and like a match struck in a dark room, it was enough to set off an explosion. In an instant, Joel lunged at you, and you found yourself wrapped around him, mouths colliding in a desperate kiss filled with moans and the urgency of your racing hearts.

With a loud thud, Joel kicked the front door shut, his hands moving feverishly down your body, fingers skimming your thighs, slipping beneath your dress. He caressed your skin before squeezing your ass hard, drawing a moan from your lips that echoed in the small space between you. You clung to him tighter, his hands fitting around you as if they were made for this very moment.

He pulled back for a breath, the sound wet and chaotic against the walls of your home, and then his lips descended down your neck, unraveling what little sanity you had left. A moan rumbled in his throat as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, giving him better access to the tender spot just below your ear, your blood pulsing beneath his hungry mouth.

Joel seemed to want to devour you whole; his hands roamed erratically, trembling as his mouth kissed and bit your jaw, pressing your bodies together in a way that felt impossibly intimate. When you lifted your right leg and wrapped it around his side, he was quick to respond, hands securing your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto his hips, burying his face against your chest.

Another moan escaped you, and he pulled you down just enough to find your lips again. “Joel,” you whispered, breathless as you parted from him, pressing your forehead against his, eyes searching his.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said, his voice low, almost broken, each word laced with a vulnerability you’d never heard from him before. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you replied in a small, desperate cry, feeling the heat radiating from him, the thin fabric of your underwear igniting a fire deep within you.

You were dying of thirst, and he had just asked you if you would refuse a sip of water. Was he mad? You wanted to drink it all. 

No sooner had you answered than Joel pulled you off the wall, striding toward the stairs with a confident grace. You lowered your legs cautiously, meeting his lips again in a frantic, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with urgency.

You walked to your room with the agility of one who knows where to step, and once inside, you grabbed the shirt you had angrily grabbed earlier and lifted it up his body in a desperate attempt to rip it off. Joel raised his arms, letting the fabric pass over both of you and then fall to the floor, and as quickly as your hands returned to his chest, he kissed your neck again, desperate, pressing his fingers into the tender flesh of your waist, seeking a physically impossible closeness. 

His hands found your thighs once more, fingers gripping and kneading with a measured intensity that sent electric shivers through you. As he moved lower, his fingertips brushed the thin fabric of your underwear, inching closer to where you ached for him, squeezing you tighter as if to draw you in.

In a single, decisive motion, he grasped the hem of your dress and pulled it upward, the fabric sliding along your skin as he lifted it away, tossing it aside with a casual disregard that only heightened the tension in the air. He took a step back, his gaze roaming over you, from the soft curve of your face down to the tips of your toes, a look of hunger that felt almost consuming.

You weren't wearing a bra (your dress didn't require it) and your breasts fell beautifully in front of him, hard nipples and soft skin. Your chest flushed with warmth, a rosy hue creeping into your cheeks as you swallowed hard, feeling vulnerable yet exhilarated when he stepped closer.

“I’ve always loved that dress,” he said, his voice trembling with an emotion that was both reverent and raw.

“I know,” you replied, a smile curling at the corners of your lips, the moment igniting an intimacy that made your heart race.

His eyes swept down your body again, glittering with an unmistakable lust, and when he closed the distance, standing right before you, your breath caught in your throat.

His hands slid around your waist, firm yet tender, pulling you into him with a deftness that sent a thrill coursing through you. In one seamless motion, he lifted you off the ground, your feet barely grazing the floor as you instinctively stood on your tiptoes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

Joel’s eyes darkened with a hunger that left you breathless, and he leaned in, his lips finding one of your breasts with a soft kiss that felt both electrifying and reverent. The warmth of his mouth sent a rush of heat through your body, and before you could gather your thoughts, he nipped your nipple gently, a teasing bite that sent chills racing across your skin.

His teeth grazed you just enough to elicit a gasp, a shuddering reaction that echoed in the space between you. But he didn’t linger on the sharpness of that moment; he quickly replaced the sensation with the soothing warmth of his lips, enveloping you entirely.

He sank to one knee, lowering himself until his lips brushed your stomach, the warm sensation sending ripples of desire coursing through you. His face lingered dangerously close to where you needed him most.

Joel placed his hands on your hips, fingers gripping the elastic of your underwear, his gaze locking onto yours for a moment that stretched into eternity before he slowly began to lower it, the fabric sliding down your legs and pooling at your feet. You felt his breath hitch at the sight of your now bare center, the anticipation thickening the air between you as he inched closer, finally brushing his lips against your mons pubis.

“Precious,” he murmured, and the warmth of his breath washed over you like a caress, drawing a small, needy moan from your lips. His hands parted your legs slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

You cupped his face gently, as if afraid you might break him, and then, without warning, Joel licked his lips and plunged forward, his mouth connecting with you in a surprise that made your eyes flutter shut. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer as he devoured you, his tongue working its magic as he sucked and kissed you whole, with an urgency that left you breathless.

He growled into you, the sound reverberating through your body, and you felt weakness seep into your legs, trembling under the weight of his relentless attention. Joel was eating you like a hungry man, tasting you and soaking in your juices with a fervor that felt primal, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

“Fuck,” you gasped, feeling every muscle in your body tighten as a building pressure coiled inside you.

He pulled away for just a moment, his eyes darkened with lust, a playful smile creeping onto his lips before he returned to you, closing his mouth around your clit, sucking and licking with a skill that made your head spin.

“Ah—Joel, I’m going to—I’m going to—” You struggled to articulate the intensity of what was building within you, your words stumbling over the tide of pleasure washing over you.

His voice vibrated through you, trailing off into a soft, “Mhm.”

You pulled at his hair, tugging harder as a wrenching moan escaped your throat. The world around you faded as his movements grew more frantic, his tongue flicking at you with a desperate fervor. One of his hands released your thigh, and a low groan escaped his lips as his finger found your entrance, sliding inside with an ease that made you gasp.

“Fuck me, you’re so wet,” he murmured, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of you—your cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with lust. A satisfied smile broke across his face, and you thought he had never looked so gorgeous.

From your point of view, he looked beautiful. His bright eyes worshipped you intently, his mouth and mustache glistened bathed in you, his hair tossed by your hands mingled in all directions. Joel Miller had never looked so good.

Another finger joined the first, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he curled them just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you gasp for air. You gripped his hair again, pulling him closer, and he let out a throaty laugh, clearly reveling in the sight of you completely undone.

You felt his mouth on you again, the warmth of his lips kissing and sucking with an insatiable hunger that left you breathless. The sound of it was utterly obscene, echoing around the room like a carnal symphony, and it drove you to the brink of madness, your mind spinning in a dizzying haze of pleasure.

His movements grew more intense, a rhythm building that sent waves of ecstasy rippling through your body. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your hips moving in desperate undulations, surrendering to the climax that Joel savored with unrelenting focus. Your fingers clenched around him, digging in perhaps a bit too hard, but he welcomed it, desperate to drink in every last drop of what you were offering, to savor you whole.

With a low grunt, he squeezed your hips before pulling away, the wet sound of his departure from you hanging heavy in the air. You barely registered his rise from the floor, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure, your eyes still closed as the vibrations coursed through you. It wasn’t until his hands gripped your waist that you finally blinked awake, lifting your eyelids to find him gazing down at you, his face mere inches from yours.

He leaned in, capturing your mouth again, a kiss that was both desperate and tender, igniting a fire deep within you. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. As the intensity built, you let your fingers drift down his chest, trailing lightly until they found the leather of his belt, the sensation sending shivers through you as you tugged him closer.

Joel vibrated against you, a low growl escaping as he nipped at your lower lip while you fumbled with his steel buckle, the sound of it being released becoming your new favorite melody. You unzipped his pants, your heart racing as you slipped your hand inside, finally touching him for the first time.

Your pulse quickened as you wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat radiating from his velvet soft skin; big, hot and throbbing in your palm. A rush of desire flooded you, and you pulled away from his lips, dropping to your knees before him, your eyes wide as you took in his form. 

There he stood, beautiful and swollen with need, and your mouth watered at the sight. You cupped him gently, drawing him closer to your lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip. Joel closed his eyes at the sensation, surrendering to the moment completely, and you traced your tongue over him, tasting the salty sweetness of his pre cum that made your insides tighten with longing.

With a hint of effort, you attempted to take him fully into your mouth, but he was too large, stretching you in ways you hadn’t expected. Joel lowered his gaze to you, his fingers caressing your jaw as you struggled to adjust.

“Slow, baby,” he urged, his voice silky yet strained, and it sent another rush of need through you. "I know you can do it."

You matched your hand to your mouth, stroking him where you couldn’t quite reach, while your other hand gently caressed his balls, moving in a synchronized rhythm. Joel tensed beneath your touch, his fingers shifting from your face to tangle in your hair, guiding you as he reveled in the pleasure you were giving him.

The sounds in the room became a symphony of pleasure, every moan and gasp echoing off the walls, and you watched as Joel's pleasure climbed. The image was enough to drive him over the edge; your pink, swollen lips covered him and his cock glistened with your saliva, dripping from your chin with every move you made. Your teary eyes looked up at him desirously, and he could take no more; his gaze was filled with a primal hunger that threatened to unravel him. He finally withdrew from your mouth with great reluctance when he felt his stomach tighten, a low complaint escaping your throat in protest.

His breathing was heavy, and a flush colored his cheeks as he lifted you effortlessly, holding you at the waist, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. In one swift motion, he laid you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he moved closer; Joel kneeling and settling between your legs which you instinctively opened for him. 

You needed him, you needed him to fill you whole. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him at that moment. And as if he was reading your thoughts - or maybe he needed you as much as you needed him - he leaned in, taking your mouth with his once more, his moans blending with yours as he lost himself in you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, the taste of him igniting a fire in your veins. You felt him positioning himself at your entrance, his heat pulsing against you, and an intense sigh shot through your chest as Joel entered you in one thrust, burning and stretching you around him. 

“Oh God,” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His right hand traveled to your left leg, lifting it and resting it high on his shoulder, while without hesitation, his other hand mirrored the movement with your right leg, bringing you into a position that felt both intimate and vulnerable. You were completely folded under him.

A cry escaped your lips as Joel began to move on top of you, his face hovering just inches above yours, the heat between you palpable. No one had ever penetrated you so deeply; it felt as though he was everywhere, filling you completely, every inch of you alive with sensation.

Joel's right hand gently squeezed your neck, seeking your mouth for a kiss as his movements took on a more urgent pace. The rhythmic collision of his hips against your buttocks created a beautiful sound that echoed off the walls, each thrust punctuated by the soft, desperate gasps that slipped from his mouth. Your own cries mingled with his as your body tightened again, your hands moving frantically up and down his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving little marks that he would surely wear like badges of pleasure. 

A broken sound escaped from Joel, raw and primal, as he sank his face into the crook of your neck once more, increasing his thrusts with a fervor that felt animalistic, as if the world outside had fallen away and this moment was all that mattered. He fucked you into the mattress with an intensity that left you breathless, as though he were trying to ground you both in this fleeting reality, where nothing else existed except for the two of you entwined together.

You melted around him, your juices mixing with his as you enveloped him completely, and just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted his head, your forehead resting against yours, his wide eyes locking into yours. You had never seen them so dark, so filled with intensity and strength.

And then it hit you: It was Joel, your Joel, the one who had been your best friend for four years, and here he was, fucking the life out of you like no one ever had before. What could possibly come after an experience like this?

“I thought you didn't like me,” he said, his voice choppy, strained with effort. A smirk played at the corners of his swollen lips. “Such a bad liar, baby, look at you.”

You growled in response, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him towards you with a mix of force and anger. Your lips found his in a kiss that was anything but patient, igniting a spark between you. You felt him tense above you, one of his hands quickly moving to your center, exerting immense pressure as he leaned his weight on his other arm, holding you captive beneath him.

His fingers found your clit, tracing gentle circles that made your back arch involuntarily, another wave of pleasure building inside you. Your mouth was still on his, consuming him completely, when your second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. You felt your insides tighten around him, squeezing him with a ferocity that pulled him closer to his own climax.

Joel gasped into your mouth, and the intensity of it sent your vision spiraling into darkness for a brief moment, the sensation so strong it felt as if the world had collapsed around you. When your breathing finally steadied, you found his hot body pressed against yours, moving in tiny tremors, quickened breaths brushing against your jaw.

He stayed inside you for a few moments longer, savoring the closeness, your hands continuing to caress his back, each touch a silent promise. Then, slowly, he pulled out of you, leaving you feeling achingly empty, his cum trickling from your entrance.

He fell limply beside you, his body slick with sweat, and pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His breaths, still heaving, crashed against your damp skin, wrapping you in warmth. Unable to muster the energy to move, you let your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to a deep, exhausted sleep that you would not remember when you woke up...

No, you didn't remember any dream, Because when you opened your eyes the next morning, you stirred in place and your muscles ached pleasantly, reminding you of the night before. And as you stretched your arms across the bed, your fingers grazed the sheets, feeling an emptiness beside you.

When you looked to your sides, the realization hit you hard.

Joel was gone.

taglist: @orcasoul

[girlbeyondthegrave]

THINGS I NOTICED WHILE WATCHING BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE AGAIN:

This is a very Beetlebabes-centric post, so if you don’t like the ship, please feel free to scroll away. <3

Beetlejuice cut Delores’ ring finger off, and while it was originally a fun joke in the first movie, there’s deep implications about that action when we look at it with the context of the second film. Beetlejuice attacked her after she betrayed him. Anyone would want to kill the person that poisoned them, but the fact that he took the time to find her finger and deliberately cut her ring finger off (and ONLY that finger) reflects how much that marriage meant to him. It also symbolizes that he’s effectively dissolving their marriage. He’s cut off the physical representation of their love and taken the ring, which he tries to give to Lydia hundreds of years later. He held onto that ring for centuries in hopes of finding someone he deemed worthy of it.

He calls his dynamic with Lydia a long-distance relationship, which could’ve been a throwaway joke if not for the fact that when he clearly notices how hot Janet is, he never talks to her or gropes her like he did with Barbara prior to meeting Lydia. Keaton said BJ wouldn’t be politically correct, so this isn’t to reflect the current political climate, but rather to reflect BJ’s motivations.

Beetlejuice was jobless at the start of the first movie, and in thirty years he’s built a company for his bio-exorcisms. Coupled with the picture of Lydia on his desk, it’s possible he did this to impress her. After all, she’s famous and rich now. BJ’s gotta step it up, y’know?

Probably overheard the convo between Lydia and Rory and deliberately bugged her at that time, because if he can possess the phone or whatever, he can probably use it to eavesdrop. This can be further supported by how he got rid of the influencers but kept the people that mattered to Lydia present—Delia and Astrid.

We can also assume he overheard the conversation where Lydia said that Rory loves her and that has to be enough because of the panning to a gravestone. BJ has a special fascination with graveyards, even tiny model ones. If he did overhear them, it explains why he used the truth serum on Rory. He’s testing him. He wants to see if this guy actually loves Lydia or if he’s using her, and then he gives Lydia the means to exact revenge on Rory rather than doing anything himself.

Lydia spends half the movie being strong -armed into a marriage with Rory, and in a way, it’s reminiscent of the first movie’s marriage attempt. Rory dangles their “love” in front of her like a carrot, and if she doesn’t want to be alone, she has to accept his manipulation and agree to get married. Yet she immediately offers it to Beetlejuice, only sounding annoyed rather than terrified. And the movie spends a lot of time proving that BJ has sincere motives this time around, whereas Rory doesn’t. It pushes an underlying message that if one of these guys is going to be a better choice, it’ll be BJ.

Despite Lydia having a tendency to back out of their deals, he still helps her first. He prioritizes saving Astrid even before finding his “runaway bride” again.

Casually calls Lydia the love of his life, looks so sincere when he says he’ll make her so happy. Clearly spent those 30 years planning that dream-dance sequence.

He doesn’t seem to care that Lydia’s sending him away. That coupled with the end scene illustrates how confident he is this time around. Lydia is still stuck with him, and even if he didn’t get her this time, he will eventually. But he also knows how spooked she is by marriage after being a snoop, so it’s possible that he’s just taking it slow on purpose.

In conclusion: Beetlejuice genuinely does want to be with Lydia and care about her. His feelings have evolved beyond permanent residence in the mortal world. If anything, if he still wants that, it’s so he can be by her side.

[nanaslutt]

Never leave your girlfriend unattended with Suguru Geto

ʚ cont: fem reader, established relationship (you&Gojo), cheating, dubcon (they both want it but r! is hesitant to cheat), dirty talk, praise, sexual tension, teasing, oral(f!r), multiple orgasms, breeding kink, guilt, rough sex, manhandling, mutual pining, possessiveness, jealousy, getting caught // WC: 8k

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

A soft kiss was pressed to the top of your head, to which you closed your eyes in response, happily accepting it. Gojo pulled away and looked at you before ruffling his hand on your hair, making flyaways stick up. "See you in a couple of weeks, baby, be good to Suguru while I'm away." He said, smiling as you nodded before he gave you one last kiss on the lips and shut the door.

"You guys are just the cutest, aren't you?" Suguru said amused, standing against the entrance to the main room with his arms crossed, head tipped against the wall. You turned around and scoffed at him, "Were you watching us? Perv." You spat at your long-time roommate and friend, making him giggle and uncross his arms as he made his way into the room you were in, walking toward the kitchen. "If you don't want me to watch, kiss somewhere a little less public." Geto teased, grabbing a glass from the cabinet before walking over to the sink and filling it up.

"Like us being in our room has stopped you from being nosy." You tsked, walking towards him. You bumped your shoulder into him as you walked past him and copied his actions, getting a glass before placing it under the stream of tap water he had running. Geto shut the tap off and smirked at you, making you look up at him in annoyance, your eyes locking onto his. "If the neighbors can hear you, what makes you think I can't, hm?" Geto asked, leaning into your personal space, making you pull your head back a bit, trying to gain some distance.

Your jaw fell open in astonishment as your words failed to find your tongue from his words exposing your intimate moments with Satoru. You were about to respond when a large hand pat down on the top of your head, effectively shutting you up. "No talking back, Satoru said not to be nice to me didn't he?" Geto asked, a teasing lilt in his voice as he questioned you. You sucked your teeth, staying silent as you turned the tap back on, ignoring his presence.

Geto smirked in victory, his hand leaving your head as he bumped into your body while he walked past you. "Good girl." He praised before walking out of the kitchen and back into his bedroom. Your heart was racing as you stood in front of the sink. His words echo over and over in your head, 'Good girl.' You and Geto were no strangers to teasing each other and poking fun at the other, but lately, things have felt more tense than they should be, especially when Gojo wasn't around.

You hoped you were the only one who felt it, so this could be your dirty little secret that neither Satoru nor Suguru had to find out about. You were jolted back into your body and out of your head when you felt water caress your fingertips as it fell over the rim of your glass. You had been so lost in thought you had overfilled your cup, jeez, you needed to get it together.

Disregarding the water altogether, you set down the glass and shut off the tap as you rounded your way to the sofa, deciding a movie could be good to take your mind off things for a while. You laid sideways down on the couch, stuffing one of the decorative pillows under your head for comfort as you scrolled through a movie sight, waiting for something to catch your eye. You stopped the curser on a movie your friends had been raving about all week, some new romance movie featuring two very attractive love interests, and apparently it was supposed to be pretty steamy.

Normally, you would watch something like this in your own room, but unfortunately, your laptop had been ruined by Satoru himself just last week, forcing you to spend more time out of your room.

Gojo had finally, finally gotten inside you after being away for a week, per usual. You had been feeling so worked up while he was away, your fingers not bringing you any relief throughout your time separated, so when he was back the two of you latched onto each other like glue and wasted no time in connecting in the ways you really wanted to. You gasped against Gojo's lips as he penetrated you fully, him staying still against you as he gave your neglected cunt some time to adjust around him while he whispered dirty praises against the shell of your ear.

Just when you were about to tell him to move, Geto busts into your room without so much as a knock, ready to welcome his best friend home from a week's absence, only to be met with both of your sweaty and red bodies, flush against one another. Suguru raised his eyebrows in surprise as he raked his eyes over your body, or at least, the parts of your body he could see from Gojo's body laying on top of yours, an action you did not miss, causing a new wave of heat to course through your veins.

This wasn't the first time Geto had 'accidentally' walked in or interrupted something between you two, and normally Gojo was more teasing and lenient about it, but not this night. Gojo was so depraved of your pussy had his sights set on fucking you into the mattress all night long, and Geto was clearly preventing that. In an effort to get your shared roommate to leave so he didn't spoil the mood, Gojo reached over to your desk and threw a bottle of lube at the door, which he missed, horribly.

Because of his awkward angle and his arm having to outstretch backward towards the door, instead of hitting his target, he hit a glass half full of water which was conveniently placed right next to your laptop, which it spilled on, and ruined in an instant. Geto left the room with tears in his eyes from how hard he was laughing, and you and Gojo didn't exactly get up to much fucking that night.

Although, Gojo of course made it up to you by buying you the latest laptop on the market. Or to be more clear, one so new it wasn't even on the market yet, which is why a week later it still wasn't in your possession. It was supposed to arrive sometime within the month, so you could be patient. You knew it was a mistake and after his little show of how sorry he was, you made sure to thank him properly in bed, with his cock shoved down your throat.

You were starting to like being out of your room so much though, not like you would ever tell Satoru that, even though what he did had been an accident, you knew he would find a way to be smug about it and expect you to be grateful for what he'd done, claiming it was all apart of his 'master plan'.

Geto didn't leave his room much during gloomy days like today, so you figured you would have the main room to yourself as well, which just made you feel all the more comfortable, considering the weird feelings you've been having about him lately. Just when you clicked on the movie and the opening started to roll, you heard Geto's door screech open, making every hair of your body stand on edge as you prayed he was just going to the bathroom instead of joining you for a movie night.

Alas, lady luck was not on your side as Geto's heavy footsteps grew closer and closer, indicating that he was not in fact going to the bathroom and was heading in your direction. You forced your body to relax, laying as natural as you could for how on edge you felt with him around, you stared nonchalantly at the TV as he walked into the room, heading for the kitchen.

Geto looked in your direction, catching a glimpse of you sprawled on the couch before he stopped in his tracks, deciding his dinner could wait. "What's up?" He asked, his voice growing closer as he walked toward you. You bit your lip between your teeth and shut your eyes for a moment, cursing your luck before you opened your eyes and spoke, "Not much, jus' watchin' a movie my friend recommended." You said dryly, keeping your eyes on the screen as the movie starts to play.

"Yeah? What's it about?" Geto asks, making his way around the couch. You're internally screaming now, praying he'll get a call or something from someone that will make him go away. You could feel your heart beat out of your chest as Geto sat down by your ankles and picked them up, scooting a bit towards you as he placed them on his lap, dangerously close to his…

You decided to entertain his small talk, trying to distract yourself from the seemingly normal situation, and for your sake, you really hoped he thought it was. "Uh, I'm not sure, just some romance movie. Shoko said the girl who stars in it is cute, said the guy might be my type too." You responded, swallowing all the saliva left in your impossibly dry mouth.

"Oh? Satoru might be jealous if he heard you say that." Geto joked, his hand resting on your ankle, sending a heat racing through your body. You clicked your tongue, "I'm able to recognize when people are attractive, I'm sure Satoru does the same." You respond, biting the inside of your cheek. "Is that so?" Geto responded, a mischievous lilt to his voice as he spoke.

You opted not to respond, letting your attention fall solely on the movie. Only when you finally started to calm down and the conversation between the two of you had died down, something that made you want to bang your head against a metal wall showed up on the screen, in 4k quality. A sex scene.

The guy's head was between the woman's legs, and any intimate parts of the two people were strategically covered by other objects in the room with the help of the angle of the camera, but you could still see their facial expressions and hear their noises loud and clear. A whistle coming from Geto made you swallow hard as you watched the scene unfold in front of you, unable to look away.

"Shoko was right, she's hot as fuck." Geto praised, raising his hips as bit as he scooted forward, spreading his legs. You peeked over at Geto, and you noticed the man licking his lips at the scene, not like you could blame him. You ignored his comment, instead pressing your thighs subtly together as you watched them go at it, their noises going straight to your cunt. You prayed it would be over soon.

You thought you had gotten through it, when the sex scene ended and Geto said something that made your heart skip a beat. "She kinda looks like you." You wanted the couch to open up and swallow you whole. How could he say that after he just said how hot the actress was? Did he do that on purpose? Were you reading into things? The thought that Geto found you attractive made you press your thighs together harder, your feet moving a bit against his legs.

The movement made Geto start petting at the skin, his fingers teasing the dimple on the side of your ankle. You took a deep breath, trying to be subtle about it as he touched you. This wasn't uncommon, Geto was always touchy like this, even with Gojo around, you were reading too much into it, you were reading too much into it, you were- "You alright?" Geto's voice jolted you from your thoughts your eyes finding his.

His other arm was sprawled out behind you on the couch as he tipped his head against the cushions, looking at you with raised eyebrows and a suspicious look on his face like he knew something you didn't. "I'm fine." You stopped yourself short when you were about to ask why, nervous to hear his answer. Geto snorted, a quick, 'alright' leaving his lips that didn't sound all that convinced at your answer.

You were acting weird, he had to have picked up on it by now. You were acting as you did with Satoru when he teased you. Fuck, Satoru. Your boyfriend, Geto's best friend. You briefly closed your eyes and shook your head against the pillow, trying to make all thoughts of Surugu go away, you could absolutely not think about him in that way.

While you were trying to calm your racing heart, Geto's fingers slid higher up your leg, teasing the skin of your shin nonchalantly as he kept his eyes glued to the screen. You focused on your breathing, the words emanating from the TV speaker sounding clouded and muddled into gibberish as your arousal steadily grew.

You peeked at Geto through the side of your eye, trying to gauge if he was feeling anything either. Once again, lady luck was rooting for your downfall. The second you looked over at Geto to study his face, you were met with his dark eyes already looking at you instead of the TV. Thinking fast despite your heart picking up in your chest once more, you spat out, "What are you looking at me for?" Your words came out more suppressed and soft than you would've liked.

Suguru ran his hands in longer strokes along your leg, testing his luck as he dragged his fingertips from the ankle to the back of your knee, ever so slowly. "Just checking to see if you were enjoying yourself," Geto said vaguely, his words making your body heat up. Clearing your throat, you averted your eyes back onto the TV and away from his scrutinizing eyes, which seemed to look right through you. "I am, it's a good movie." You responded, trying to get the topic of conversation off of you, "How about you?" You added, trying to seem unaware of the growing tension in the room.

"Right." Geto said, a hint of all-knowing in his tone, "It's a good movie." He repeated, obviously aware that you were hiding something from him judging from your defensive tone you weren't even aware of yourself.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence once more, Geto's hand slowing his caressing of your thigh, allowing you to breathe more normally and relax your body again, save for the steady pulsing you felt in your cunt that wouldn't cease. Just when you were about to excuse yourself to get the water you previously abandoned earlier, another intimate scene occurred on the TV, making your entire body clench up.

You couldn't very well leave now, Geto would without a doubt think you were affected by the movie if you did that, even though you were. Figuring in your spot on the couch, your feet unknowingly scooted closer to Geto's crotch, making his eyebrows raise in surprise at your subtle movement. "You're getting squirmy again." Geto teased, outting your discomfort.

You could feel your heart beating loudly in your ears, your eyes staying locked on the couple who was making passionate love on the screen in front of you. You stayed quiet, hoping if you pretended like you didn't hear him, he would shut up for good, only that didn't happen. His hands caressed past the back of your knee, his fingertips teasing the start of the underside of your sensitive thighs before he spoke again.

"Does this movie make you miss Satoru? 'S that why you're getting all fidgety?" Geto continued, looking at you from the corner of his eye. Your breath picked up, coming out louder than you realized, as your heavy breaths reached Geto's ears loud and clear. You pressed your legs together again, trying to gain some relief as your roommate teased you.

Suguru grinned when you stayed quiet again, your expression telling him all he needed to know. Something was affecting you, something was making you aroused. He decided to test his luck and see just how far he could push this. "Sounds just like you guys, huh?" He persisted, licking his bottom lip as he watched his fingers tease the back of your thigh.

You released a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering for a brief second as you struggled to gain ahold of your reactions. "I have to listen to that every night y'know? You getting fucked by my best friend." His words were affecting you too much, you couldn't let this go any further. "Suguru." You whispered as sternly as you could manage, his name leaving your lips a little too breathily and needy.

Suguru looked away, his gaze falling back onto the TV, but his hand did not stop teasing your leg. You were now positive that this encounter and his touch was not friendly and had other intentions like you first believed. "You sound so pretty too, it's hard not to listen," Suguru exposed, causing you to bite your lip. The sex scene was long over now and the movie was coming to a close, and still, you and Geto lay there, staring at the screen, neither of you actually watching the movie.

"Suguru, stop," You warned, worried this was going to lead to something neither of you could take back. "You know I wanted you first?" Suguru said, making you squeeze your eyes shut hard, trying to ignore his words. "Talked about it with Satoru too. Who knew a year later he was gonna be dating you." Biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, you cast your gaze on Suguru, your expression silently begging him to stop talking.

"I should've-" "Suguru stop, please, please stop. I don't know what you're trying to do but we can't do this." You cut him off, pulling back your leg from his grasp as you sat up, your legs curled by your body as you held your body weight up with one hand behind you. You stared at him pleadingly, knowing you weren't going strong enough if he made a move.

"We?" He repeated, making your heart sink into your stomach. You fucked up, you hadn't meant to say that. "So you feel it too, don't you? And you've been feeling it for a while, haven't you?" Suguru asked bluntly, bringing everything out in the open. He was too far gone to play coy now. "I don't know what you're talking about. Slip of the tongue." You said, looking away as you began to get up from the couch.

Suguru's hand gripping your wrist made you stop in your tracks, when did he get so close? "Suguru let go." You said sternly, a hint of softness in your voice. "You want this, I know you do." He pushed, pulling you towards him. You winced, turning your head dramatically away from him. "I… I think I should go stay with Shoko till Satoru gets back. I'll pretend I didn't hear any of that." You said, adamant to keep your foot down, not allowing either of you to cross this line that could ruin everything.

Suddenly, you were under Suguru, and he was on top of you. Your legs spread around his knee that was placed between your legs, dangerously closed to where you had been needing attention all night. He held both your hands above your head, pinning your wrists down on the couch, immobilizing you, forcing you to face the situation. "Suguru don't do this." You begged, trying to keep your eyes off of his lips.

"I won't tell him, he never has to find out." Suguru breathed, his eyes solely focused on your lips, the complete opposite of yours. "How… how could you say that? He's your best friend." You said, defending your boyfriend. Geto's next word caught you off guard, rendering you speechless. "You were mine first."

You stared up at him desperately, your fate in his hands as you breathed heavily, not knowing how to respond, not even sure if you wanted to respond. Geto leaned down to the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin teasingly before he spoke, "You hear me? You were mine first," He repeated, followed by a kiss to your sweet skin.

A gasp left your lips when you felt him make contact with your neck. "S-suguru-" You gasped before trying to struggle against his hold, knowing this was wrong. "Been wanting to hear you say my name like that for a long time," Suguru whispered before peppering his kisses up to your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. You whined, wincing at the sensitive and unfamiliar feeling of Geto's lips. It all felt so wrong but so good. Geto clearly had experience.

"Suguru haah-" You gasped, your attempts to escape his hold growing weaker and weaker the more time he spent sucking your ear. His lips traced back down to your neck before he found your sensitive spot and sucked. You whined, tipping your head to the side so he had more access to the skin there. You felt a blossom of warmth spread in your lower tummy, making you wiggle around, trying to get friction somehow.

"Suguru we- we shouldn't do this." You whined, your words coming out stuttered and breathily. He pulled away from your neck, admiring the little red hickey that was starting to form before his eyes drifted to your disheveled face, the face of a person who craved release. Your chest was rising and falling heavily and your mouth was slightly agape, your eyes lidded and cloudy to match your expression.

You thought Geto had ignored your words before he leaned down and hovered his lips above yours, a hair's length away from touching. He licked his own before speaking, his eyes flitting between your lips and your eyes, which did the same. "Tell me to stop," Geto said, giving you an out. Something in the way he said those words made you think he really would stop if you said so.

You'd been telling him to stop just fine only moments prior, only when this seemed to be a true out, an escape to leave to the sanctity of Shoko and forget this encounter ever happened, you couldn't find it in yourself to speak those words again. Breathing shakily against his lips, you whispered back the words that sealed your fate. "I can't"

In an instant, Geto's lips were latched onto yours, to which you hastily reciprocated his need. Moaning desperately against him, he finally gave you what you needed most, and pressed his knee against your cunt. He swallowed up your sounds of pleasure, griding his throbbing cock against your leg, matching your need. Geto had no idea how he was able to hold back for so long, he felt like he was about to explode.

He had been hard in his pants since your encounter in the kitchen a few hours ago, his baggy hoody stealthily concealing his arousal, making him seem like he had been calm and collected, when in reality, he was losing his mind. "The bedroom, take me to your bedroom." You gasped hastily against his lips, needing more relief than what his knee could bring.

Without a word from the man, he scooped you up in his arms and made a beeline for his bedroom. His hard cock rubbed against your ass with each step he took as you had your legs wrapped around his waist, giving both of you the much-needed friction you needed to stall yourselves as he brought you to the bedroom.

Geto through you down on the bed before he removed his hoodie and shirt in one fell swoop, leaving him clad in his boxers and sweats. You raked your eyes over his body while you followed suit, removing the oversized T-shirt you were wearing, which coincidentally, happened to be Geto's. He pounced on you before you were even done removing your shirt, his arms reaching up to help you remove your shirt quickly.

As you worked on your bra, Geto pushed you down and slid his legs under your hips, placing his hands on your thighs as he hoised you towards him, your body sliding down against the sheets. Everything was a blur, you two were moving quickly and silently, save for both of your gasps and heavy breathing, a tell of just how badly you really needed each other.

Geto made quick work of your shorts and panties, practically ripping them off your legs before you could even register what was going on. Geto pushed your legs back by the underside of your thighs, folding your body into a mating press as he started dropping his face down to your dripping cunt. Your hands stopped him as you covered your pussy with both hands, embarrassed at how open and exposed you were.

"W-wait I- I didn't shave-" You whined, your face hot as you tried to keep your eyes on his. Geto's eyes found your own, annoyed that you were stopping him from the thing he wanted most. "Move your fucking hands." He groaned sternly, having no patience for your insecurity over such a minuscule thing. You think he gave a fuck if you were shaved? He knew he was dealing with a woman, he knew what to expect, and he loved it.

You kept them firmly over your cunt, your wetness coating your fingers as you kept your pussy obstructed from him. Geto groaned before he leaned forward and licked at your hands, presumably where your clit was. "S-suguru-" You gasped, shocked at the shameless display of his need. He sucked one of your fingers into his mouth, successfully getting a small taste of you from where your wetness had gotten on your hands.

His eyes rolled back in his head from such a small taste, now needing to have more. His cock twitched in his pants, threatening to cum already despite barely having been touched. "I don't care, move your hands," Geto repeated, reassuring you it didn't bother him in the slightest. Letting your arousal guide you, you reluctantly removed your hands, exposing your pussy to his eyes.

Immediately, a long groan left Suguru's lips as he stared at your pussy, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him. "Oh fuck, you're even more beautiful than I thought." He said, biting his bottom lip between his teeth. His cock twitched harshly behind the confines of his boxers, spilling pre-cum against them as his eyes were blessed with the sight of you.

"D-don't say stuff like that," you whined, gripping his hair for support as you looked away from him, too embarrassed to face him and his dirty words. "Get used to it." He said sternly before he dove in, his tongue licking hastily against your folds.

Your nails scratched against his scalp as your head fell back against the sheets, your eyes rolling in your head. "Ffff-uck!" You cried as Geto moaned against your pussy. His tongue was darting quickly back and forth against your clit, his rough and sloppy movements making you see stars. "Ohmygod-" Geto groaned against you, his words sending vibrations through your cunt, causing your body to jerk inward.

Pulling back briefly Geto released one of your legs to slap your bare cunt, resulting in a loud cry from you before he dove back into sooth your pussy, his hand grabbing your thigh firmly once more, keeping you in the mating press. "I-inside, S-suguru p-put your tongue inside-" You gasped, needing to feel something inside you. Suguru wasted no time in acting on your words, his tongue diving penetrating you with ease.

You moaned lewdly feeling his tongue thrust in and out of you, just short of where you needed to feel him most, but the stimulation still felt amazing. His face was pressed so firmly against your cunt that his sharp nose was digging into your clit, stimulating it each time he shook his head back and forth against you, slurping loudly.

"Fuck- fuck I'm gonna cum- S-suguru I'm gonna cum-" Geto couldn't help but feel proud at the cry he's heard so many times replaced with his name instead of your boyfriends. The declaration made his cock twitch, his hips canting into the air against nothing. You tried to squeeze your thighs against his head as your orgasm crept closer and closer, your mouth falling open in a silent scream until-

Geto pulled away, leaving you just short of your orgasm. "Need to feel you cum around my cock." Geto said desperately, placing your legs over his thighs as he sat back, uniting the knot in his sweats. "S-suguru…" You pouted, reaching your hand between your legs you started rubbing your clit in small, slow circles, keeping yourself right on the edge as you waited for him to get his cock out.

Geto watched with a slacked jaw as you played with yourself shamelessly in front of him, your fingers teasing the entrance of your tight cunt before rubbing back up to your swollen clit, making his mouth water. The bottom half of his face was coated in your wetness, and his flyaways had stuck to his face by your slick, making him look so needy and sloppy, it was cute.

Geto groaned when he pulled his cock out of his boxers. He pulled the sweats down a couple of inches, just under his balls as he started slowly jerking himself off, spreading his wetness over the length of his cock as he watched you. "Spread yourself open." He demanded, his eyes focused on the opening of your cunt where his fat dick was about to be.

You were a bit shocked when you finally saw his unobstructed cock, so it took you a minute to register his words. He looked pretty big judging from his bulge, but nothing could've prepared you for the sheer girth and length he had, which far surpassed Gojo's. Sure Gojo's cock was impressive, but a side-by-side would've made your boyfriend's look pathetic. "Baby, let me see your pussy." Geto repeated, his hand rubbing on top of your thigh, jolting you out of your own head.

With a meek nod, you spread your folds apart for him, looking away as you did so. Geto groaned, you could hear the squelches get louder and more frequent as he started jerking himself off faster while staring at your little hole. "Fuck… you think you can take me?" He asked, leaning over you, keeping his hand jerking himself off, the other planting by the side of your head.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, scratching your nails on his nape, making him groan. You looked between the two of you, watching as Geto touched himself while hovering his tip just above your pussy. "It's so big, isn't it?" Geto teased, reading your mind as his eyes scanned over your face, watching you watch him. You looked back up to him, your chest rising and falling quickly with anxiety and arousal as you nodded.

"But you can take it, can't you?" He asked, nodding at you, basically telling you the answer he wanted to hear. You nodded back, not really comprehending what he was saying, you just wanted him to fuck you. "Beg me for it. Tell me how bad you want this dick." Geto whispered, rubbing his tip against your clit as he leaned into your neck, pressing kisses against the skin there. You gasped, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist as he teased you, making out with your neck.

"Tell me how bad you want me inside you, c'mon.." Geto begged, sucking hard against your skin. If you had half a mind, you would yell at him for trying to mark you up. You didn't even let Gojo give you hickeys. Instead, you pressed his head harder against you, welcoming the feeling. A nudge against your wet entrance from his fat tip made your words find your tongue, your cunt throbbing and begging him to get inside you already.

"I want it so bad Suguru." You whispered, your face growing hot at your words. "Want you to fill me up, ruin me, wanna feel you in my fucking guts." You blabbed, letting your pussy do the talking as he frotted his dick between your folds, his dripping cockhead hitting your clit just right with each thrust, making you feel like you were going to cum again.

Geto groaned at your words, drip after drip of pre leaking from his slit, rubbing all over your pussy. "You're on birth control right?" He whispered against your neck. He knew it was a little too late for that, seeing as he had been rubbing his cum all over your pussy for a while now, but he figured he would ask before he said his next few words.

"Y-yeah, you can fuck me raw." Geto wasn't expecting for you to say that. His teeth sunk into your neck at the declaration, making you whine out and can't your hips up against his. "You let Satoru fuck you raw?" He asked, clearly getting jealous and feeling a little competitive. You cringed at the mention of your boyfriend, not wanting to think about him right now, you could regret this later if you so chose.

Begrudgingly you answered him with a small nod that he wouldn't miss for anything. "Just me? Am I the first one to fuck this pussy raw?" He asked, beginning to line up his cockhead with your entrance, pushing his hips against you lightly, teasing you. You felt the guilt start to creep over you, you had no plans to ever let Gojo fuck you raw unless you were trying for a baby, which he knew, and yet here you were abandoning all that for your boyfriend's best friend.

"Y-yes" You whined, feeling embarrassed. "Goddd-" Geto groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Geto didn't really have a fetish for virgins or being anyone's first, but when it came to you he was particularly possessive. He hated the idea of anyone touching you before him and has had to deal with it for over a year now. So the fact there was a part of you that Satoru hadn't got to feel yet made him ecstatic.

"Gonna let me be the first one to cum inside you too?" He asked, lifting his head from the crook of your neck, smirking at you mischievously. At that moment, you forgot you were cheating on your boyfriend, all guilt washed out of your head as your eyes met with Geto's. You admired his handsome, pleasure, and lust-filled face before you pulled his down against you, crashing your lips together.

"Do you want that? You wanna cum inside me?" You teased, pulling away from the kiss to whisper against his lips. "So bad." He answered, staring into your eyes, pressing his tip harder against you, threatening to penetrate you. "Suguru-" You whined against his lips, making him reply with a cry of your name, keeping his gaze solely on yours as he pushed against you until his fat tip slid inside you with a pop.

You jolted against him, both of your jaws falling open in tandem as he finally breached your walls, just his tip stretching you open. "Oh fuck- oh fuck-" You cried, unconsciously squeezing tighter around him. Geto leaned forward and started kissing you passionately, trying to distract you from such a big stretch. Tears started welling up behind your lids as he pushed himself in deeper, at least a few inches now.

"It's okay, relax, loosen up for me, I got you," Geto whispered between kisses. You kept your arms firmly around his neck, needing all the comfort you could get as he nearly ripped you open. You did your best to take deep breaths through your nose, trying to relax your cunt around him. Your nails scratched harshly along the skin of his back each time he fed you another inch, making him groan in pleasured pain against your lips.

Geto broke the kiss to look down at where the two of you were connected, noticing he was almost fully inside you. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks from the stretch, but it was undeniable that it felt good. Geto was completely filling you up, leaving no room for him to miss rubbing against any sensitive spots inside you.

He was about to praise you for how well you were taking it when he felt extra pressure be applied to his cock. Adjusting his gaze up a bit, he noticed you were pressing down on the small budge on your stomach, a gasp leaving your lips each time you did so. Geto decided to just watch, despite the intense throbbing he felt watching you cry over his cock splitting you open. "H-ah, I-it's so deep." You whined before looking back up at him, pleasure written all over your face.

Geto grit his teeth and started up a brutal pace inside you, knocking the wind out of your lungs. "Filthy fucking mouth- H-ahhh" He groaned, pulling his cock in and out of your tight cunt. He couldn't believe how warm and soft you felt, he never wanted to pull out. "S-suguruuu-uu" You whined helplessly against the sheets, letting him handle your body like a ragdoll as he mercilessly fucked you.

"I knoww I know~" He cooed, shaking his head at you, his free hand wiping your tears away. "You'll get used to it soon I promise, just let me take care of you, let me make you feel good." Any response you might've had was cut off by Geto's fingers rubbing quick circles against your clit. Your hands shot down from pressing on your tummy to grabbing his wrist, trying to get him to let up.

"I didn't know you were such a crybaby in bed." Geto teased, angling his hips just right to massage your sweet spot, making you dizzy. He cooed at you as your eyes rolled back in your head, your nails digging against his wrist harder. "Do you cry like this for Satoru? Huh?" Geto asked, to which you just whined and shook against the sheets, trying to let him know you were close, but your words failed to find you.

The only warning Geto got before you came was your back arching off the sheets and you cried turning to silent gasps before your cunt squeezed tightly around him, trying to milk his cock as you came. A choked moan left his lips as you orgasmed around him suddenly, making him lose his rhythm a bit. Once he realized you were cumming, he found his pace once again, fucking you through your high and keeping his fingers rubbing against your clit.

He leaned down to connect your lips, kissing you sloppily. He sucked on your tongue lewdly as your mouth hung open while you came, moan after moan being fucked out of you. Your eyes were fuzzy and all out of focus once you came down. You tried to blink away the cloudiness to get a better view of Geto as he pulled away to study your disheveled face, but you were still feeling the aftershocks, not allowing you to fully focus yet.

"You came so hard, felt so fucking good when you squeezed around my cock like that." He praised, placing his hand on your waist and away from your clit as he slowed his thrusting, giving you a second to catch your breath. "S-suguru-" You cried, your body shaking and jerking each time his tip brushed against your g-spot, sending bolts of overstimulation to shake you. "I'm a bit jealous you came after I mentioned Satoru though." He said pouting, clearly annoyed but fabricating most of it so you would feel bad.

"N-no it w-wasn't that-" You tried to reassure, worried that if you didn't clear things up now he wouldn't go so easy on you in the future, as if he was going so easy on you now. "No? What was it then? What made you cum so hard?" Geto asked, slowly picking up his speed again once he realized you were coming back down fully. You gasped and winced as he started fucking you again, trying to find your words before he fucked them out of your head.

"W-was you, y-you're so big 'n you're hitting all the r-right spots." You revealed, pulling him against you, burying your head in the crook of his neck, embarrassed at your own words. Clearly, this confession made Geto feel a whole lot better though, as he started fucking into you faster than before. "Oh fuck, yeah? I do hit all the right spots don't I?" He cooed, working himself up.

You nodded against him, more tears falling down your cheeks and getting in his hair. Geto grinned, biting the shell of your ear, "'Ur fuckin' me in all the right spots too baby." He praised, feeling a warmth start to form in his belly, his balls tightening. "Huggin' my sensitive tip so good, massaging my dick with your warm pussy. It feels so fucking good. Wish you could feel what I feel." He told you, nearly whimpering into your ear as he worked you over, his pelvis rubbing against your clit from how close he was.

His trimmed dark hairs near the base of his cock tickled your tummy as he rubbed his hips back and forth against you, quickening his pace before slowing down, throwing you off with the change in rhythm."I-I'm glad. W-wanna made you feel good Sugu-" You whined, squeezing your arms around him harder, feeling extra sensitive from how he was completely smothering you.

"Yeah, baby? You like making me feel good? That's so sweet. You're so sweet." He praised, closing his eyes as he mumbled the words into your neck. He tried not to think about what was going to happen when this was over, but it was hard not to as he approached his orgasm quickly while he felt your walls start to pulse and squeeze around him, a telltale sign of your orgasm.

"I t-think I'm gonna cum again," You cried, biting down on his shoulder. Geto groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as he welcomed the feeling. His body was yours to use and dispose of, he was entirely at your mercy and would do and take anything as long as it meant he made you feel good. "I'm gonna cum to princess, still want it inside you?" He checked, his words coming out breathy and quick, he wasn't going to last much longer like this.

"Please Geto, please c-cum inside me-" You begged, repeating his name like a mantra as he fucked your cunt harder, loud squelches emanating from between you. A thick ring of your cum was pooled at the base of Geto's cock, a sight he would jerk off to for years if he got the chance to see it. "Good girl, gonna fill you up so fucking full with my cum." He groaned, "'nd you're gonna take it all right? Gonna keep it deep inside you all fucking day?" Geto was babbling nonsense at this point as his balls tightened, ready to release his load inside you.

You nodded vigorously against him, gripping onto his hair for dear life, keeping him pressed into the crook of your neck. Your back arched against Geto just as his thrusts started losing rhythm, both of your jaws falling slack and moans going quiet as he did his best to fuck you through it. Both of you jerked forward and groaned, you cum being forced out around him as he came.

Geto's seed shot deep inside you, his cum filling you up to the brim. He laid his weight on top of you as his orgasm was wracked through his body, wave after wave of his high hitting him like a train wreck as your pussy milked his balls. You came down first, your hands petting the skin of Geto's back as he groaned and occasionally jerked against you, making sure he was as deep as possible until all of his seed was released into you.

When he came down, he stayed sill. Neither of you dared to move, dared to speak, as you basked in the afterglow of your orgasms. You were the one to break the silence when you whispered for Geto to pull out because his cock was making you sore. With a hushed apology, he sat up and pulled his cock slowly out of you, making you wince in discomfort.

"There's so much…" You whispered, once again holding your hand on top of your stomach as you felt how deep his cum was inside you. Geto blushed before he smiled, raking his sweaty hair out of his face. "Sorry, is it uncomfortable?" He asked, rubbing his fingers along your thighs, trying to soothe your muscles. You shook your head, although when a glob of his cum dripped out of you, it sure felt uncomfortable, but you didn't want to bother him with such a small thing.

Geto leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips softly before pulling back and looking into your eyes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking at him with softness and uncertainty of what you were to do now. "You did so good, that was amazing." Geto praised, easing some of the nervousness you felt. "Yeah, it was." You agreed, nodding before you pressed your lips back on his, kissing him slowly.

After a few more minutes of kissing and winding down from such an intense interaction, Geto picked you up in a princess carry and started for his door to take you to the bathroom to make sure you didn't get a UTI from this. Only when he opened his door, what he saw was the last thing he was expecting.

Gojo Satoru, briefcase and all, was standing crossarmed outside his room agaisnt the wall, an unreadable expression on his face. You felt like throwing up and you got out of Geto's hold, standing on the ground in front of him on shaky legs, clad in only Geto's shirt with dark purple hickeys littering your neck.

Your heart was racing out of your chest, and judging from Geto's expression, his was too. Gojo sniffed before he spoke, uncrossing his arms and stuffing them in his pocket when you started to walk towards him. "Guess there's a blizzard so my flight got canceled. No work for a week." He said, answering your unspoken question of why he was back. "Welcome home Satoru!" He said dramatically, an unreadable expression on his face as he held his arms up in mach excitement.

He was smiling but his eyes said something completely different. Besides the quick glance at your neck, Gojo's gaze was focused solely on Geto. The two men refused to break their sights on one another, the air around you thick enough to cut with a knife. Yeah, you were really going to be sick.

[nachojaehyun]

you give good love

pairing. brother’s best friend! idol! dino + fem! reader

summary. as lee chan’s eyes met yours again, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

w.c. 5.10K

playlist. kind of based off of you give good love by whitney houston but not really i was just listening to it while writing this

warnings. [PLEASE READ] reader is hoshi’s sister, mentions of freak dino 🫢, smut under the cut, PWP, afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom chan, pussy eating from the BACK, uses of pet names, chan has a BIG dick, BULGE KINK, very little dirty talking, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl please), creampie duh — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. pi-cheollin is the reason i live and breathe. also i might write chunsunie x pi-cheollin fics soon 😭 also thank you guys so so so much for 2K notes on the wonwoo fic 🙇‍♀️ super grateful for all your love, more soon. this is also my first ever long fic, so i hope you like it. enjoy!

“so yeah, those are the dates and timings of the flight. now, check your schedule.”

soonyoung could hear the ruffling of paper as he waited on the phone. the air con blasted in his face, evaporating any signs of sweat from his pores.

“yeah, i think i’ll be able to make it!” your voice chirped. soonyoung couldn’t help the smile on his face. “thank god! also, don’t worry about being lonely, jeonghan hyung’s sister will also be there, and also wonwoo’s sister.”

“i haven’t seen them in so long! wow, a true trip down memory lane,” you sighed, finally setting aside the calendar on your lap. “they ask about you a lot, i told you to exchange contacts with them!” your brother scolded you.

“i may have forgotten… but all that aside, how much do i need to pack?” you nervously bit your lip, contemplating how much shopping you would need to do.

“it’s a summer trip for one week, basically a mini vacation. pack a good amount of shirts and tops and modest shorts. bring your grandma style swimsuits for the pool.”

“grandma style swimsuit? oh please! i didn’t work out all winter to wear a one-piece!” you complained, flexing your biceps in front of the mirror. “i’ll bring what i want to bring.”

“and if i see any of these perverts staring at you, i’ll chop your head off too, yeah?” soonyoung sighed. “yeah yeah, they are the perverts. and you’re the polished lamb of jesus who has never gawked at wonwoo’s sister right?”

your rhetorical question has your brother stunned as he gapes into the abyss, his mouth filling up with the cool air from the air con. “i’m… how did you—” he begins, only to be cut off by the doorbell of his shared apartment.

“that’s the others. look, i’ll leave now, but make sure to pack properly, okay? text me if you need anything. see you soon.”

with that, he hung up. you smiled as you set down your phone, already deciding the outfits in your head.

as you walked over to your closet, your phone interrupted your thought process with a loud notification.

이찬: oi

이찬: did you get the plane tickets?

with a sigh, you texted back your brother’s best friend, who had somehow managed to find out about soonyoung inviting you.

you: ya, i will be coming.

you could see the dots bouncing on the screen, but you chose to ignore them. switching over to a music app, you started to scroll through and pick your random playlist.

your brother’s song, God of Music started to play and you threw your phone on the bed, enjoying the music.

you could text chan back later. he was really annoying, and it’s not like he meant anything to you anyway.

your phone buzzed with his notifications as you sorted through swim suits. “hmm, this makes my ass look fat right?”

as you landed in the jeju international airport, you gathered your luggage and made your way to the gates.

your brother was already waiting outside, clad in a mask and a cap. wonwoo and his sister accompanied him, smiling and waving at you.

“hey guys!” you hugged them, before fixing the crop top that rode up your waist. “i missed you so much!” minji (wonwoo’s sister) squealed.

the four of you got in the car after shoving your luggage in the back. wonwoo sat next to your brother, scrolling through his phone as you and minji chatted their ears off.

soonyoung couldn’t help but peek at the rear view mirror ever so often, catching glances of minji and smiling to himself.

you wanted to call him out, but decided against embarrassing your brother so early into the trip.

within 30 minutes, you had reached the share house. it was a beautiful property, surrounded by greenery. the sounds of waves crashing on the beach wallowed around you as you dragged your suitcase up the ramp.

“eunsok is dying to meet you! we must make a group chat this time, so that we remember to check up on each other, yeah?” minji helped you with your handbag, smiling as you nodded enthusiastically.

in front of the main door, you took in a sharp breath, before pushing the mahogany portico open.

immediately inside, you were greeted by jeonghan, joshua and mingyu lounging about on the couch. however, upon the sound of your entrance, eunseok ran down the stairs, engulfing both you and minji in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed you!” she screamed, nearly tackling you on the floor. with a giggle, you hugged her back. “me too! its just sad that sophie couldn’t join us.”

muttering agreements under their giggly breath, the two helped you get up, and greet the others.

as you answered jeonghan’s questions about your well-being, you heard heavy footsteps from the stairs.

lee chan’s body appeared downstairs. when his gaze countered yours, you choked on your words.

it had been nearly 5 years since you had seen him in person. and wow, had he changed. dino, as he was famously known as these days, sported much bigger muscles, and a sculpted face. his hairstyle was finally suiting his face, a beautiful contrast to the bowl cuts you had seen him in during childhood.

for the first time in your life, you actually looked at him. and boy, did he look good. the tank top he wore showed off his body as he walked towards you, checking you out silently.

he had to admit, you surprised him. your black crop top, barely there jean shorts, and long brown hair came as a huge shock to chan.

he had remembered you as the snot-faced bratty sister of his best friend. the girl in pigtails who would cry every time he brought up your crush in middle school.

as lee chan’s eyes met yours, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

“hi,” chan finally placed himself in front of you, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “hi,” you breathed out, clutching the handle of your suitcase tighter.

“oh, you guys are meeting after so long!” mingyu chuckled, his eyes wandering around the room as he noticed the tension between you and his youngest member.

“yeah,” you smiled, transfixed by chan’s eyes. his plush lips parted as he glanced at your glossy ones, before quickly scanning your face.

“okay, that’s enough of your weird staring contest,” soonyoung placed a hand on chan’s chest, pushing him back to create some distance between you two.

“i’ll help you get to your room,” he turned to you. “you’re lucky, since you get it to yourself, but its comparatively smaller and narrower than the others—”

“wait, weren’t we supposed to buy alcohol and meat from the store on the way back?” wonwoo suddenly remembered, making all the eyes in the room turn to him.

“shit!” minji slapped her forehead, tutting. “we’ll go get them then! you wanna come with?” she smiled at you, eunseok joining in.

“i think i should set up my things first yeah? but take soonyoung in my place,” you shoved your brother forward. “he’d love to go grocery shopping with you.”

minji’s cheeks flared up as she straightened her posture, nodding. “sure yeah.”

within minutes, wonwoo, minji, eunseok, soonyoung and mingyu headed off to the car, ready to buy crates of beer for the evening.

as the door shut behind him, jeonghan threaded his hands through his hair, smirking. “dino-yah,” he cooed. “why don’t you help her with her luggage?”

almost immediately, joshua joined in, egging on the maknae as both of you felt the heat creep up on your neck.

wordlessly, chan snatched your suitcase from your hand, beckoning you upstairs. you bowed at the two elder to you, before running up to chan.

he led you to a small room in the very corner of the second floor, opening the door with his leg as he walked in.

chan cleared his throat as you walked in, placing your hands on your bare waist. “so, this is your room.”

you nodded at him, taking in your space for the rest of the trip. the room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a love-seat in the corner, a small desk and chair and a balcony in the very end.

“this door,” chan walked over to a door that sat perpendicular to the entry. “this is the door to a common bathroom. its a jack and jill one, that connects to the room opposite to you.”

“oh? and who’s in the room opposite to me?” you questioned, raising your eyebrow. with a dramatic sigh, chan leaned against the bathroom door, swinging his head to meet your eyes.

“its me.”

your breath hitched as he gulped. “w-wow,” you stuttered out. “sounds great, chan. looks like we are forced together again,” you smirked, crossing your arms as you stared at him.

he knew what you were referring to.

back when you were kids, and way before the idiot in front of you had signed with Pledis, you and soonyoung had gone to his house for a sleepover. chan’s mother had insisted on having you sleep on the bed, since “the floor is no place for a lady to sleep.” you and chan shared the bed, while soonyoung dozed off on the ground.

you were 14 at that time, and you remember how you skin had heated up when chan inched closer to you. “there’s no one to save you from my tickles now, crybaby!” the 15 year old boy had threatened.

yet, chan could barely focus on the flashback, instead focusing on the way your breasts nearly fell out from the neckline of your top.

you noticed his staring. smirking, you drew closer, tightening the cross of your arms.

“what’s this now, you’re ogling at me?”

you had him cornered. chan’s back was against the wall at you forced yourself into his space, breasts touching his hard torso.

“i—in you dreams!” he lied through his teeth, nervousness oozing out of his soul as he stared down at your tits.

god, the things he would do to slot his dick between those beautiful, gorgeous, one of a kind—

“my eyes are up here, channie,” you stuck your tongue out at him, before backing away and walking up to your suitcase.

dino felt his blood rushing south as you bent over to pick your bag up and place it on the table.

you purposefully wiggled your ass, humming to yourself. “channie,” you called out, voice as sweet as a siren.

“yeah?” dino collected himself, shaking away the filth that plagued his mind. two can play that game, he decided, biting his lip.

“can you come help me put my things in the bathroom? i have too much to unpack.”

with a nod, he walked over to your space, his chest touching your back as he leaned over your shoulder. “why did you pack so much, hm?” he teased you, running his fingers down your smooth arms.

not backing down from the challenge, you pushed your ass against him, whipping your head to meet his eyes. “i just wanted to look good, y’know? in case there was a strong, buff, hot man i wanted to seduce.”

with a hiss at your movements, chan’s hands flew to your hips. “yeah? you’ve grown up so much that you seduce men now?”

“oh, i do a lot more than just seduce,” you giggled, skincare long forgotten on the desk as you turned around, hopping on the wooden platform as your arms loosely slung around his neck.

chan slotted his knee between your legs, the pervert in him alive and breathing at the sight of you. you were driving him insane.

how you had managed to change so much over a few years had him baffled. instead of worrying about soonyoung, chan thought with his dick.

“what do you do then?” he questioned, eyes trained on your lips as you spoke. you pushed your clothed cunt down on his knee, biting back a moan.

“i think i would rather show you what i do than tell you,” you whimpered out, darkened eyes peering into his hazy ones.

chan bent his knee further into you, causing a delicious moan to escape your throat. “getting bold now, aren’t you?”

before you could even comprehend his words, your pussy spoke before you, hips rutting into his knee. however, a sharp knock on the door interrupted your little hump session.

“chan? y/n?” seungcheol’s voice spoke from behind the door. “you guys in there?”

chan quickly separated from you, walking closer to the door to answer. “yeah, i’m just helping her with her stuff. what’s up?”

“well, we were ordering some take out, so if you guys could come down and give your preferences, it would be great.”

“yeah, be there in a second,” chan glanced back at you, your teary eyes meeting his. the fucked out expression on your face made his dick jump to life.

but the heat of the moment had passed, which painted both of your cheek's a deep shade of red. realization hit dino way faster than it hit you. shooting you a tight-lipped smile, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

with a sigh, chan left the room and left you breathless, panting as your senses slowly returned. the fire of lust in your stomach had dimmed slightly, as realization dawned on you.

what the fuck just happened? and why did you like it?

nightfall arrived faster than you expected. but the cool air surrounding the beach raised bumps on your skin as you shoved grilled meat down your throat.

seungkwan and mingyu worked on the grill, with vernon filling up everyone’s plates with the expensive store bought items.

you sat on a stool next to seungcheol, sipping on the beer can that was handed to you. when everyone was busy with their own thing, the leader turned to you and smiled.

“so, how have you been? a long time has passed since we spoke right?”

you had always found comfort in seungcheol. he was the leader of the group, a very reliable and trustworthy person. you remember asking him for advice when you got into college.

“i’ve been well, how are you?” you set your can aside. “any luck with the ladies you used to complain about?”

he laughs loudly at that, spooning a mouthful of ramen. “no, i’m still stuck with one-night stands for now. dating is too complicated!”

when chan hears his hyung talking about his love life, he scoots closer to the both of you, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“what about you? get any action?” seungcheol giggled.

you could practically feel dino’s presence beside you like a wavering shadow, and you chose to exploit it. how dare he leave you with an unfinished orgasm?

“oh yeah, plenty!” you smirked. “don’t tell soonyoung, but i’m lowkey addicted to sex? just feels so good to let off some steam, you know? and the dudes around me are so easy… they fall into my hands like domino.”

the harsh truth behind those words were only known to you. you had been on a dry spell for nearly 2 months now. your fingers and toys were not enough, and you were pretty sure you had started to hallucinate about dick.

“wah, kwon hoshi’s sister is all grown up, huh? good for you girl, go get them!” seungcheol cheered you on, clinking his can with yours.

you sneakily turned to look at chan, who had suddenly grown silent in his conversation with seokmin. “dino-yah. are you okay?”

chan’s eyes met yours and he immediately tensed up. you noticed how white his knuckles had turned, just from gripping wooden chopsticks.

“i’m fine,” he smiled, eyes dancing over your body before he returned to his friend. your bralette was doing nothing to hide your slightly tanned skin, black shorts making your perky ass stand out even more.

dino mentally cursed soonyoung for even allowing you to wear that. but then again, his best friend was too preoccupied with his little crush to pay you any attention.

the rest of the mini barbeque was a tough time for him. the poor boy could only think about your tantalizing words to seungcheol, calling a sweet string of cusses to all the men that touched you before he ever could.

you noticed how your plan was working, hiding your smirk behind a colorful can of beer as lee chan suffered in silence.

within a few hours of outdoor activity, jun and minghao said goodnight to everyone first, tired of all the hustle and bustle. a few others followed suit, yawning and sighing.

at the end of the night greetings, you, dino, wonwoo, seungcheol, soonyoung, minji, and joshua remained near the pool. you saw how your brother kept leeching up to minji, cracking idiotic jokes under her brother's watchful eye.

"i... i think i'll head to bed now, good night guys!" you stretched up from your chair. chan's eyes followed the way your skin gleamed under the fairy lights. he gulped loudly as you purposefully swayed your hips while walking inside.

"you can follow her in, chan-ah," wonwoo smiled, shifting his gaze to the youngest momentarily. "i'll keep kwon hoshi here for a while."

"what are you on about?" dino tried to play it off, scoffing as he crunched up a beer can. wonwoo could only roll his eyes.

"it's obvious you like her, and i'm just giving you a chance to work on it. you really should tone down the staring... soonyoung would kill you if he found out, and i am willing to help you for now. so don't be an idiot and go."

smiling toothily at his hyung, dino whispered out an "i love you" before running up the stairs. he reached his room without breaking a sweat and decided to shower before doing anything.

however, when he was about to slide the door to your shared bathroom open, he heard a loud sigh coming from inside. shamelessly, chan pushed his ear against the door, curious as to what you were doing.

your sigh was followed by a small whisper that sounded like "i can't believe i'm doing this." then, chan heard a zipper being opened.

his eyes widened as he realized what you were actually doing. "no way," he mouthed to himself, feeling his boner re-emerging at a sudden squelching noise.

"mhm," you moaned behind the door, and the pervert in the next room could only imagine what you looked like. "f-fuck chan!" you whimpered, and dino felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

the towel dropped from his hand, as his fingers sneaked to the hem of his basketball shorts. with a silent groan, chan stroked his chub as his eyes squeezed shut.

he pulled his cock out, swiping at his tip with his thumb. his brain worked overtime to imagine your hand in place of his, pretty eyes staring up at him.

meanwhile, in the bathroom, you leaned against the counter as your fingers stretched open your pussy. "feels so good," you whimpered, pitch increasing as you imagined his veiny hands pumping into you.

unbeknownst to each other, you and chan had cum to the thoughts of one another that night. chan made sure to cum at the same time as you, recognizing your borderline screams as you tipped over the edge.

what a filthy girl, he thought to himself, panting as his release spurted onto the towel he had discarded.

the starting 3 full days of the trip had made you avoid lee chan like he was the plague but personified.

every glance into his eyes had made you remember what you had done on that one night, and guilt seemed to sour your mood.

everyone had decided to go to the beach after having a few afternoon drinks. you spent your time around eunseok and vernon, gossipping about office trolls and work place shenanigans.

chan was simply drinking with seungkwan and minghao, refusing to give you any attention. although he was confused as to why you were ignoring him, he remained silent and decided to give you space.

jihoon suddenly joined into his conversation, hair tied back into a messy ponytail. “dino-ah,” he smirked, snatching a shot glass from the youngest’s hand. “i hear that there’s gonna be loads of girls on the beach today. wanna check some out? we can share if you want.”

as dino downed his shot, he stared back at his hyung with a grin. “don’t you remember what happened the last time we shared a girl? we had to take her to the hospital because she passed out!”

the group laughed, reminiscing the old memory. it wasn’t odd for them to share one-night stands. the boys were family, and they strongly believed in putting each other first.

the large number of giggles near you caught your attention. you and eunseok walked over to the boys, as she queried about their conversation.

“nothing much, it was just a last minute plan in prague… god we almost got arrested,” jihoon snickered, elbowing dino’s side. the youngest could only smirk, pouring himself another shot of soju.

questions flooded your mind as you stared at the man who had you in a chokehold. dino was clad in nothing but swim shorts, his taut muscles on full display for anyone to ogle over.

as the topic changed, your curiosity got the best of you. you staggered over to seungcheol, knowing that the boy would kill to gossip.

“oh hey y/n,” he greeted you with a tilt of his beer can, sunglasses perched upon his nose.

“hi,” you settled down next to him, your can of lemon soda forgotten as your lips quivered. “you look like you want to ask me something,” he chuckled, eyes scanning your face.

“you know me so well,” you smiled, twiddling your thumbs. “i can ask you anything right?”

“yeah, sure.”

“no repercussions?”

“no repercussions.”

with a sigh, you turned to face the leader as you took in a breath. “what happened in prague?”

seungcheol nearly choked on his drink, sputtering out flicks of the liquid as he stared at you with his eyes widened behind his shades.

“of everything you could have asked… why that?” he groaned, wiping his mouth. “come on,” you whined. “jihoon said it like it sounded so fun! i just wanna know!”

with a glance around to see if anyone was looking, the leader smiled and leaned in closer to you. “we swore we would never tell this to anyone but us… but you’re family too,” he began, voice merely above a whisper.

as seungcheol tattled on about the shenanigans that the idol group had been up to, you found yourself gasping. the wild story, the borderline illegality of it all— it was too much. you squeezed your thighs together when seungcheol skimmed past the details of the night they spent.

lee chan’s eyes followed the two of you, completely misinterpreting the situation. your shuffling thighs, masked giggles and wide eyes seemed like flirting to him as he clenched his jaw, downing his shot.

why were you making this so hard for him?

it was nearly 1 in the morning when you woke up in cold sweat.

your narrow room greeted you in a greyish hue, curtains pulled back to let the moonlight in. with a sigh, you resorted to calming down, taking deep breaths as you heard the waves crashing on shore. a slight buzzing noise filled your ears. it seemed to be coming from your door, but your mind could barely focus.

your dream had completely ruined your chances of sleep. a ticket to dreamland seemed impossible as seungcheol’s words floated in your head.

i’ve never seen dino go that feral on someone before… he was insatiable.

she squirted so hard when he was done, it was a huge mess. wonwoo’s glasses got drenched-

with a sigh, you take off your sleeping shorts and toss them to the side, fingers dipping down to your core.

your hole was slicked up, a sticky mess from your vivid imagination. your index finger prodded at your entrance, making you let out a sob.

your body was frustrated, in agony. you wanted to feel chan’s touch instead of your own hands, wanted to feel him buried inside you.

you let out another pained moan, pushing your first knuckle inside your fluttering walls. however, you fail to register the sounds you have been making, and that the buzzing from the outside had suddenly stopped.

you spread your legs wider, pumping your digits inside, letting out a hurt whimper. it would never be enough.

suddenly, the door to your shared bathroom opened with a slam, and a concerned chan appeared in your doorway. “are you okay—”

the sound of his voice egged you on further, hole gushing with a fresh serving of arousal. you all but sobbed at his direction, sex induced fog clouding your brain as your fingers fastened.

“chan,” you whimpered. in the doorway, with water drenched all over his face and a can of shaving cream in his hand, lee chan groaned at the sight in front him.

“help me…” you pleaded. “oh baby,” he growled, setting the can on the floor as he walked over to you. his hands parted your thighs even further, eyes examining the mess in between your legs.

with a sharp smack, he swatted your fingers away, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy.

morals be damned. soonyoung be damned.

“look at you,” his eyes stared into your hazed ones, a hand smacking your heat. the friction had your hips bucking.

“so soaked, hmm? what were you thinking of princess?” he bit his lip. “you… always thinking of you.”

“fuck,” he groaned, tilting his head back to compose himself. “y/n,” he sighed, one of his hands cupping your face.

you leaned into his touch, lips jutted out in a pout. “tell me you want this, and it’s not just something you’d forget. tell me you want me, and i’m all yours.”

with a smile, you turn aside to place a kiss on his palm. “i’ve never wanted something more in my life, lee chan.”

that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he flipped you over onto your stomach, slotting himself between your legs before he discarded his sweats on the floor.

“you have no idea how patient i have been,” he grunts, manhandling you to arch your back as your ass presses against his torso.

he dips his body down, face to face with your pussy. tantalizing, he licks a stripe up your folds, making your knees buckle on the mattress.

you try to look back to see him, but its impossible to move when his hands grab your ass cheeks, forcing his mouth back on you. dino’s chin brushes against your clit as he licks at your hole with a groan.

“so wet for me already, bet i could just slide in and you’d take it.”

you can only moan his name in return, clutching the bedsheets as he ate it from the back. his tongue fucks into your folds, lapping at the arousal that drips out of you in copious amounts.

“f-fuck channie! i’m—”

before you can finish, chan is moving away from your heat. the sudden lack of his mouth has you moaning and whining like a brat.

“easy doll, i don’t want you to cum on my face right now,” he pats your ass, flipping you over to your back as you finally get a view of him.

his slick covered face dips down to meet your lips. the kiss is searing and filthy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

your hands reach for his hair, pulling him impossibly close as you suck on his tongue. using your neediness as a distraction, he quickly angles his hips and pushes his tip past your folds.

“shit!” you cuss, gasping and pulling away. in the heat of the moment, you never actually registered how obnoxiously big chan’s cock was.

as you look down to where your bodies meet, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. his fat tip exerts an experimental thrust, and the sheer stretch of his head has you whining.

“shh baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, pressing small kisses along the column of your throat. “just breathe for me?”

you inhale slowly, allowing your tense body to relax and adjust to him. dino’s attempts at distracting you do not go futile as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples. the pain in your chest makes the ache between your legs lose all meaning.

steadily, he pushes himself inside you, inch by inch entering your welcoming walls that spasm around him. when he finally bottoms out, you feel him in your gut.

this was the fullest you had ever felt. chan’s mouth licks the sweat around your breast, savouring in the salty taste.

his arms rest on either side of your head, making you relish the view. when he finally looks up, you pull him in for a kiss.

its sloppy, and his teeth clash into yours, but you could not care less. your pussy clenches around him as you pull away, nodding feverishly. “chan… if you don’t fuck me right now, i might die— hah!”

one languid thrust into you has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his metal chain dangles on your chin, the coolness contrasting the heat that squelches down there.

chan takes full advantage of his dancer body as he pistons his hips into you. the stretch has you reeling, nails clawing down his broad back as his body leans into you.

dino’s lips find the spot on your neck, licking and sucking till red and purple bloom on your skin. his matted hair sticks to his forehead, as you turn your head to the side— the visuals becoming too much for you to handle.

you’re met with his forearm in your sight, fingers tightly gripping the bedsheets.

without a second thought, you lean forward and bit his skin, making him groan out as his cock twitches inside you.

“fu- you’re killing me baby,” he smirked, licking his lips as he forces you to look at him.

the brute force of his thrusts has your body thrashing, legs shaking with pleasure.

“feels so good channie!” you hiccup, mind cloud. the only thing you could think of was lee chan and his oh so perfect dick that was ravaging your insides.

when chan looks down, his eyes roll to the back of his head. he could see the outline of himself in your stomach, prodding out with every thrust.

a creamy and frothy ring lined the base of his cock, a testament to how your greedy cunt was sucking him in. your warm walls squeezed hard around him when one of his hands dropped down to press the bulge on your stomach.

“feel me in there, don’t ya?” he babbled, hips faltering at your vicious grip. “y-yes!” you cried out, feeling your stomach contracting.

with a loud growl, chan’s lips rest upon yours. “you close baby? can feel your greedy little cunt crying f’me,” he mumbled, licking your bottom lip.

your pathetic nods made him remove his hand from your stomach and find your clit instead, circling the bud as you mewled.

“cum for me baby, show me how much you needed this cock in you,” his eyes fluttered shut, forehead falling against yours.

“i’m cu— oh fuck,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling your orgasm rip through your body. your pussy clamped down on him, gripping his length like a fleshlight.

dino moaned in your ear about how good you felt, thrusts turning sloppy as he pressed kisses on your earlobe.

he continued to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased after his. overstimulation had tears spilling from your eyes, clawing at his pecs as you sobbed. “ ‘s too much channie! hurts!”

“just a little more baby, clench round me like that aga— FUCK!” he lost himself in you, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, milking him for all his worth as his orgasm washed over him.

in a desperate attempt, chan’s thrusts turned erratic as he pumped his load inside you. “s-so good,” he whimpered, hips stilling inside you as he softened. you groaned at the warmth, shutting your eyes in ecstasy.

you both were panting, bodies entwined in a soft caress. time seemed to still when lee chan looked into your eyes again, smiling like a lovesick puppy when you kissed him.

your mouth whined pathetically when he pulled out, falling to your side as he sighed. wanting to be close to him, you shuffled near him.

your fingers dropped down to your pussy as you tried to plug his cum inside you, moaning at the sensation of being so incredibly full and warm.

“that was… the best sex i’ve ever had, sheesh,” dino wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close.

you brought your hand up to place on his sweaty chest, giggling as he kissed the top of your head. “better than prague?” you teased.

lee chan’s pecs tensed under your hold, as his eyes widened, staring at you in the dark. “what— who told you about that!” he exclaimed, ears dusted pink.

“seungcheol’s very easy to gossip with,” you winked, staring up at his pretty face. “wow… i can’t believe this hyung,” he grumbled, hearing you laugh.

“hey! this only happened because i was thinking about everything you did to that poor girl,” you smacked his muscle, hearing him wince. “why were you so feral that night, lee chan?” you voiced your question out loud.

he sucked in a breath as his grip tightened around your shoulder. “you really want to know?”

“i’m dying from curiosity,” you mused. with a sigh, chan turned his head to face you fully, meeting your eyes in the moonlight, before he whispered out an answer.

“she had the same name as you.”

© nachojaehyun, 2024

[lymtw]

Ex Bf Toji

Yes, you and Toji used to live together, but falling out, splitting up, breaking up, and any other phrase used to signify the separation of two lovers, typically means no contact, for however long. Toji did the moving and you stayed where you were for however long it took to feel okay with not seeing him every day.

He didn't cheat. Toji is many things, but he is not a cheater. He saw no reason to, just like he sees no reason to forget you.

He snuck three things of yours into his luggage, to really keep you with him, because you'll get them back at some point, anyway. He took one of your used shirts, an old photo of you and him, and a pair of your underwear. It'll take three days to get you back—he's sure of it. He won't give all of these things back to you in one go, nor will the three days be consecutive. He's smarter than that. They'll be spaced out as he sees fit. When you least expect it, he'll call or text you to let you know about something that he "accidentally" brought with him.

Truthfully, he felt like an old, abandoned dog, the first few weeks that he spent apart from you. He constantly checked his phone, hoping to receive messages from you. He knew it was delusional for him to expect you to text and call, yet he still waited. He moped around his motel room, unsure of what to do, because you were the one who usually planned everything. You were the one who pulled him along with you everywhere, hand in hand. He never lacked excitement or interest around you and he felt safe, but two months later, as he sits on the bed in the same room with the most unnecessary and foul patterns, there's a gross feeling in his gut. Things are too quiet and he absolutely hates it. The silence gives him headaches sometimes and he devastatingly misses your chaos in those moments. He's stuck thinking about you, alone. He doesn't even feel like leaving his room to buy beer to make him feel less or enhance his emotions—whichever comes first.

You know he got it bad for you, when he preferred to use your underwear over and over to get himself off than let some other girl touch him. A third month passed and he still longed for your touch so damn much. He felt like a horny teenager with the way he treasured the garment he stole from you and touched himself to pictures and videos on his phone. Pictures and videos of you. Dirty ones that you would send him through messages, followed by innocent hearts and winky faces, as well as his own personal collection of ones he took.

He misses your smell, your taste—god, you were everything. How could things get so bad that you ended up apart from each other? He could really use your attention right about now. You don't even need to touch him, your company would suffice.

Your voice comes through the speaker of Toji's phone, his name moaned out shamelessly loud as you cum, your phone's camera capturing the whole thing for him. His heart drops to the depths of his stomach at the sound and he ruins the fabric of your pretty, blue panties, deep moans of your name flowing freely.

Toji is just as shameless as you in that video. He swipes off the old video of you and scrolls back down to the bottom of your conversation. It's a good thing you haven't blocked his number.

Hey, I accidentally brought these with me.

[Images Attached: 1]

I'm in my room if you wanna come get them.

He's the devil for keeping his cum stain out of the picture, because had it been in there... He's not sure you would have accepted to come get your missing pair of underwear.

I'm off in 20. Room 723, right?

You got it, doll.

You hate that you know where he's staying. You hate that you don't tell him to stop calling you doll, but most of all, you hate that temptation got the better of you. This will be the second time you go see him because he has something of yours.

The first time was a month ago, and it was about a shirt. One that you didn't even know you were missing until he texted you about it getting mixed with his stuff. You didn't reply because two months into your break up still felt too soon to be in contact with him, but he called. He called and kept calling until you answered, and every time he called, your heart would start racing at the sight of his name displayed on your screen.

Your first mistake was answering. His voice made you nervous, in a first date kind of way, the way it was so calm and steady while talking. It was like he was calling on his way home to you from a job. You did your best to be mature about it, but your nervousness shone through with every 'uh...' and 'sure, that should be fine' instead of 'yes'.

When you went to go see him, your stomach swarmed with butterflies at the sight of those dark, fern-colored eyes. You were so nervous and Toji picked up on it because of how you made it your job to speed up the process of retrieving your shirt.

He invited you into his room and your second mistake was accepting his invite. You felt strange being alone with him again. Anxious? No. Uncomfortable? Not that, either. More like homesick.

Toji didn't make it any easier with the gaze he had set on you. He observed your face—your eyes, your nose, your lips. He couldn't stop himself from continuing down the path to your body. Your neck, your chest, your waist, your hips—all things he wanted to put his hands on. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he could feel his heart thrashing in his chest. Having you so close was a rush. His adrenaline skyrocketed every time you looked into his eyes. He couldn't focus. He felt jittery. At some point, he couldn't take it anymore. With a final stuttered breath, he reached for you, and pulled you into him for a kiss. An aggressive one, that left you breathless and conveyed just how badly he needed you.

You didn't know what was going on, but the feeling was far from unfamiliar. The feelings brought on by this spontaneous gesture, you've felt them more times than you can remember, each time so special. It's the reason for why you struggled to push him away. You struggled to maintain the boundaries that worked to prevent this very thing from happening. You were long gone the moment he put his hands on you— the moment he spun you towards his bed and laid you down. It was selfish on both ends. You were both lonely and touch deprived. It shouldn't have gone further than kissing and some over the clothes wandering of hands, but there was a clear deficit of self control, and because of it, your bodies familiarized themselves with one another, again.

You're now standing outside his door, there to pick up an old pair of underwear that you could have just asked him to throw out. You couldn't lie, part of you wanted to see him, just to make sure he's doing alright since the last time you were there. It's been a little over a month since then. Maybe he has a new girlfriend. Even if he doesn't, you don't want the situation to be misread. You're not together anymore and there's no chance of a reconciliation any time soon. It's just not meant to be, for now.

Toji opens the door and the butterflies start their fluttering in your guts all over again. You don't want to listen to them or your racing heart or the sudden throb you feel between your legs, but he's shirtless.

You clench your jaw to prevent yourself from drooling and remember that you're there for one thing only, and it's not for another fuck with your ex.

"You sure you still want them?" Toji asks, when the silence gets to be too much. He unfolds the blue material to reveal the creamy substance that litters the gusset.

"Uh... yeah, sure." You feel your face grow warm. "They'll be good again after a wash." You take them out of his hands and fold them back up before putting them in your bag.

He leans against the doorframe, eyeing you up and down. He's not being subtle, if he's even trying to be.

"I was thinking of you," he says, once again breaking the loud silence. "You know, when I got them dirty." He nods towards your bag.

"Oh. That's..." you stop mid sentence, unable to find a way to end it. "It's fine."

"Wanna come in? You hungry? Thirsty? Tired?"

"None of that. I should get going anyway. Still need to get groceries for the week." You do your best to avoid letting your eyes trail down his body and hope that he doesn't insist. It'll be so hard not to give in.

"I'm sure you have enough to last until tomorrow. One more day without a fully stocked fridge couldn't hurt."

You sigh. Why does he always have to make it so difficult to turn him down?

"A glass of water would be nice."

He hums, satisfied by your response. He takes a few steps into his room, allowing you to walk in. The second you shut the door, he's right behind you, his front flush against your back, pinning you to the door. He bombards you with his touch.

"Knew you'd come, mama. Fuck, I missed you." He's kissing your neck, pulling up your shirt to feel your soft skin beneath his rough palms.

"T-Toji, what are you doing? I'm not here for this." He ignores you and keeps kissing your skin. "We can't do this, again. Last time was..." He's stretching the collar of your shirt to expose your shoulder, where he presses more kisses. "I-It was the last time. We can't."

"We can," he counters, sliding his hand down the front of your pants and into your underwear. "I miss you, baby. Don't you miss me?" He purrs into your cheek.

A sharp gasp leaves you with a brush of his fingertips against your clit. Your hands go to the door to keep you stable.

"I'm not fucking anyone else. Are you?" He asks, watching your reactions to the languid motion of his fingers against your clit.

"Mm-mm," you hum, eyes shut as you shake your head against the door.

"Say it," he mutters, into your ear, pressing his lips against the spot beneath it. His free hand rides up your torso, going up towards your chest. It goes beneath your bra to grope at your breasts.

"Fuck, Toji... No, I'm not sleeping around."

"Yeah? That's good. I'm glad."

"You were an asshole," you say, your voice low. "I shouldn't even be l-letting you touch me." You feel like you're crumbling. You're trapped between him and the door, as well as stuck between pleasure and rationality.

"You know i'm sorry, and you're an angel for letting me touch you after so long. Don't run off so fast like you did last time." His lips go back to devouring the skin of your neck, littering it with marks that will make you think of this moment when you look in a mirror.

"F-Fuck, i'm gonna cum. Gonna-"

Your legs go wobbly and you press your hands more firmly against the door to try and hold yourself up. Toji's arm tightens around you, supporting you as he works you through the intensity of your orgasm. Your whimpers and moans are heaven sent. So sweet and entirely dedicated to him.

"Come on," he mumbles, pulling you up straight, onto your unsteady legs. He turns you around so that he can hoist you up by the backs of your thighs, and as if on instinct, you wrap around him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, your legs around his waist. It's so strange to feel his warm, bare skin against you, again. Your face is buried into the crook of his neck, like when he would pick your sleeping body up from the couch and carry you to bed.

He sets you down and pulls your shoes off, throwing them somewhere in the room, carelessly. With impatient breaths, he's back on you again, kissing you, and feeling up the body he grew accustomed to holding, but was now deprived of.

"Fuck." He pauses. "Take it all off, baby." He presses chaste kisses onto your lips as he pushes your shirt up, further directing you to undress yourself.

You feel ridiculous for having followed his directions so unquestioningly, but there you are, naked for his eyes, hands, and mouth.

"What are you doing?" Toji asks, confused at the sight of you on your stomach, your face buried in the pillow.

You turn your head to the side, to not muffle your words. "I don't wanna look at you."

"Why's that?" He traces your spine with his fingers, lidded eyes following the invisible trail. "Don't tell me you're still feeling guilty over last time."

You shake your head, wordlessly. You have nothing simple and quick to respond with.

"I wanna look at your pretty face."

You shake your head, again, and he knows he's going to have to melt away your stubbornness. You're not like this. You know he doesn't fuck you like this, ever. It's the first unfamiliar thing to occur since you started talking and since you agreed to meet up and it doesn't sit well with him.

His hands start at your hips and ride up your waist, merging onto your back, going up towards your shoulder blades. He knows of your weakness for when he says things straight into your ear. He has confirmation of this from just a couple minutes ago, when he had you against the door. It brings out a range of emotions from you, but ultimately, it gets you to mellow down a little.

"Let me love on you properly, mama," he starts. Your heart races at the feeling of his breath against your ear. You're throbbing with every deep-voiced mumble and his weight on you again. "Wanna take care of you, pretty girl. Must be so tired after a long day, huh?"

You sigh, releasing some of the built up tension in your body and nod.

"Yeah... I know, doll. Let me make it better."

Just like old times. You miss those days when your schedules aligned and you got to meet at home once you both finished work. It was always a race to see who got there first, but there was never an actual winner when the first thing you would do was shower together. Toji went in before you every time to rinse off the nastier splotches that littered his skin and you joined in on his mark. All the weariness and tension melted away when the water ran down your bodies. These were moments where you were so in love with him. Time slowed down through pressurized squeezes of his rough hands on your weary, smaller muscles, and your softer hands on his more defined and prominent, yet, still aching ones. There were also those delirious, casual conversations that bounced between being so tired that you could sleep together through the rest of the day, but also being so hungry that you could eat a family pack dinner, together in one sitting.

That is why you don't want to look at him. All those memories will come back, again, at the sight of his handsome face. You miss him, too. Your love for him hasn't been completely disposed of, but there's a reason for why you're in his room and not your shared home. Your schedules were unaligned for too long. You barely ever saw each other. You only saw him for brief periods of time in the morning and at night and your days off didn't coincide with his. Date nights became a rarity. Maybe once every couple weeks, you would go out to a place with a peaceful and quiet atmosphere, so that you could get a few hours to remember that you still love each other. Suddenly, he has spare time and it's so hard to deny him when he wants to spend it with you.

"Baby, please," he says, following his words with a kiss to your temple. You let out a deep breath and take a second before you start wiggling under his weight. He scoots off of you and allows you to do what you need to do. Once you're on your back, he wastes no time crawling onto you, again, to begin his worshipping of you.

That warm feeling you used to get around him is slowly seeping back in with every kiss he plants on your face and your neck. The way his hands smoothly glide over your body strangely makes you think of more aggressive times, when he would be so impatient, handling you so swiftly, just wanting to mold his body into yours. The scratches and crescent indentations his blunt nails would leave on your skin from the intensity of it all—you can't forget them.

He nears your soft, warm, blank chest. It's not like he didn't trust your word, but now he has visual evidence of how you weren't lying about not sleeping around. If things hadn't fallen apart between you and him, your chest would be littered with his fading marks on it. You're long due for a round of semi-permanent kisses.

His lips mouth at your chest, wet kisses being spread all over it. You instinctively let one of your hands come up to the back of his head, your fingers coursing through the dark locks of hair. He tries not to react so desperately to the feeling, but your touch is addicting. He doesn't want you to stop. No one has touched him like this since you and it really shows. Between the endless contact of his lips on your skin, layered with soft sighs and the constant caressing of your body, you can tell he's just grateful for being able to have you like this, again.

"You miss my chest?" You ask, acknowledging the amount of time he's spent on the area. He's been leaving marks left and right, between your breasts, on them and beneath them, too.

"All of you, not just your chest," Toji responds, before latching his lips onto one of your nipples. Your other one is handled by his fingers until he gives it a turn in his mouth, his fingers going to the one he just released. He loves being able to feel how your chest puffs and dips with every breath, and how it stutters with the swirling of his tongue over your buds.

"Toji," you call, breathily. Your hand lowers to the nape of his neck, meeting the tips of his hair that graze it.

He releases your breast with a quiet pop, pressing one more kiss to the glistening peak before tending to your call of his name.

"I know, doll. Feeling sensitive?" You nod, in response and he cracks a grin. "It has been a while... and I don't blame you, but you don't answer the phone enough." His kisses start, again, down your body—starting between your breasts and traveling down your abdomen. His lips paint your stomach, unintentional heart resembling marks formed through short-lived stinging sensations. "Can't do this for you if you don't pick up the phone. Just for a few minutes," he purrs, kissing above your navel. His hands cup around your hips, his thumbs massaging the area while he trails his mouth even lower down your body. "And if you don't wanna hear my voice, just answer my messages, mama. It's so fucking simple to get me next to you."

You shudder when his breath fans over your pelvis. Goosebumps rise over your skin all over again and your heart drops when green, lust filled eyes hold your gaze, pinning you down. You squirm beneath his unwavering attention, losing the eye contact battle when his hand goes to your thigh. You see the faintest sign of a smug grin once his eyes refocus on your body.

"How'd you get this gnarly bruise?" He asks, lightly running his fingers over a purplish yellow splotch on the lower part of your outer thigh.

"I ran into the corner of a table. I was in a rush."

He hums, disapproving of your reason, but nonetheless leans forward to kiss it. It brings him back to when he would walk into a room right on time to catch you groaning in pain and flipping off the coffee table while muttering curses, after ramming your knee into the corner of it, or when you would open your mouth in a silent scream after knocking your elbow into something and hitting your funny bone. He really considered putting guards on all the corners in the house, because of the constant bruises he found on your pretty skin.

"You gotta be more careful, doll," he says, kissing the blemish once more before continuing up towards your inner thighs. "Can't have you wearing this pretty body down with so many bumps." His breath grazes the space between your thighs, again. His attention goes from your glistening cunt, to your unsteady chest, before landing on that needy expression on your face that makes his cock twitch.

"You look so pretty." He drags his fingertips through the wetness of your slit, watching the adorable way your stomach quivers at the contact. "So wet over the way I kiss you up," he says, hypnotized by the way your slick connects his fingers to you with every up and down gliding motion. "You're precious, ma. Look at that... You're drooling so much, already." He drags a knuckle through your slit.

"F-Fuck." You shudder beneath his teasing touch. "Please. Toji-" you cut yourself off with a moan when his mouth attaches itself to your throbbing clit and his middle finger slowly sinks into your slick hole. Your thighs twitch in Toji's hold, the pleasure intense with all the fresh stimulation offered by him.

"Sweet as ever," he murmurs, pulling his finger out of your now twitching hole, to suck your juices off. He watches your face contort as two fingers stretch you out, now. Whimpers and moans are released with every curl of his fingers and with his tongue going back to your clit, you can't help all the squirming you're doing. Toji knows your body as well as he knows his own. Those hips rolling against the mattress and your back arching is a sign of your quickly approaching release. The fact that it's happening so fast is endearing to him. You really haven't been touched in a while and he loves being the only one you've allowed to replenish your level of physical intimacy.

You don't even warn him when you cum. Your notice is a sharp gasp, followed by the sweetest moans he's ever heard. Your overload of wetness coated his fingers and dripped onto his palm. Toji watched through dark, lidded eyes, as your chest heaved and your brows pinched with pleasure. Your bitten up lips parted to release heavy breaths and whines of satisfaction. He stopped before the overstimulation could make its way to you, pulling his cum coated fingers out of you and lifting his mouth from your clit.

While he did enjoy being a little mean and overstimulating you back when you were a couple, he knew this was not a moment for that. He said he was going to love on you and he planned to follow through with that.

"Fuck." You sigh, extending your arms above your head, before stretching your body. You groan as your chest rises and your back arches before releasing the tension, a giggle homing into Toji's ears once you settle again. Within seconds, he's face to face with you again, his body invading the vacant space between your legs. His hands go to your wrists, crossing them above your head.

"What are you giggling about?" His nose is centimeters from bumping into yours.

You giggle even more at his proximity and the sly smirk that plays on his lips. "Mm... just came all over your fingers within like two minutes," you mumble.

"You did, huh?" He says, squeezing your wrists affectionately.

"Mhm," you hum.

"That still doesn't break the record," he adds.

"No... It doesn't." You say, through a laugh.

A tension-riddled silence follows, longing looks exchanged during the stillness of the moment. Toji uses his control to lean forward the rest of the way to kiss you. The kiss is soft and slow, despite the way he keeps your wrists pinned, a visual that shows your surrender to him.

He hums against your lips, breaking the lip lock with a quiet smack. "Can I put it in?" He asks, leaning back to see your response.

"Yeah, okay," you say, blushing, but nodding to double confirm.

He releases you so he can remove his boxers and finally release his aching cock from its confines. He's been hard this entire time, but your needs were put ahead of his because, like the last time, he initiated this.

Toji sighs, feeling his cock throb and twitch at the thought of being in your incomparably soft and warm walls, in just a few seconds. As he drags his tip along your slit, he can't help but think about how this would be the first time he has sex since you last let him touch you, a month ago. He might cum as quickly as you did, maybe even quicker.

He keeps a hand on your stomach, rubbing as an act of comfort, as his other hand guides his tip into your hole. He pushes in, keeping his focus on you as he slowly feeds his length into you.

"Fuck, doll. Doing so well. Almost there."

You never get used to the initial stretch. It's not unbearable and you know it's worth it, so you deal with the short amount of discomfort.

"Oh fuck, it's in," he says, mentally relieved that he didn't cum early. You both let out sighs.

After a couple minutes of getting comfortable and picking up a gentle pace, things were good. Quiet sounds of pleasure took over the room. This time isn't as aggressive as the time before. Last time, things happened in a flash. One moment you were just talking, the next you were being fucked incoherent, and before you knew it, you were getting dressed and leaving Toji's room with the most guilty feelings.

This wasn't that, at all. He wasn't slamming his hips into yours or pinching your waist between his hands. His thrusts were paced, like he wanted this to last a while, and he touched you with the gentleness of someone who, wholeheartedly, isn't over you. Someone who still holds an immense amount of love for you.

You're not faring any better, than him. You find yourself wanting to bring him closer. You truly want him all over you. The second you extend your arms towards Toji, he's leaning closer towards you so you can touch him. Your hands make contact with his shoulders and he gets immediate goosebumps. He's working to suppress the groan that's paired with the chills that run down his spine, when he looks at you from this proximity. You let your hands glide up to the nape of his neck and you pull him into you for a kiss. Your cunt flutters around him when his lips move against yours in synchrony, his hips continuing their languid pace. His kisses always leave you breathless, so you end up having to be the first to bail, when you can't compete with his lung capacity. He continues kissing your face, groans released into your cheek and jaw, while you gasp and whimper over his gentle precision.

"T-Toji... Toji- Fuck."

He hums into your neck, his lips brushing against it immediately after. "Miss you... so... fucking much," he pants. "Please..." his voice lowers, and his lips move towards your ear. "Please, baby."

His arms cage you in and you feel smothered by him, like you're drowning in him. He's all you know in this moment. His body, his voice, his touch, his smell. All you can do is feel as he thrusts into you, repeatedly reaching that part within you that renders you the most perfectly behaved angel for him. He can feel the way your chest jolts with every hitch of your breath. He can hear your stifled hiccups up close, as he murmurs needy words into your ear.

"You..." he pants, a subtle groan caught by your ears. "You heard me, right, pretty girl?" He presses a kiss to your earlobe, awaiting your response. You nod, a sultry hum being the only sound you manage to let out. You clench around him, briefly, but long enough for his hips to stutter. "Fuck..." he sighs, burying his face into your neck, again. His hips pick up their pace a little, luring a sharp gasp and a moan out of you. "I-I need you back with me. Miss you lots," he says, muffled by the delicate skin he nibbles on.

"I-I know. I know, Toji. You're not the only one."

"So fucking come back to me, already. What are you doing?"

"Gonna cum. I'm gonna cum," you blurt, writhing beneath him.

"Keep squeezing me like that and you're gonna make me cum," he grunts.

"T-Toji, please," you whimper, the sensation of your nearing orgasm growing stronger. "Toji," you cry out once more, before your wetness gushes out, coating his unrelenting cock.

"Shit," he hisses. He barely has time to watch you when he's on the verge of spewing into you with every clench of your velvety walls. A few seconds pass, and with stuttering hips, a tensed abdomen, and gritted out, breathy curses, he fills you up with his cum. Ragged breaths are released into the air, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. He pulls away from you, his eyes glued to you as you work on recomposing yourself.

You're lucent in his eyes. The layer of sweat that coats your neck brings attention to the harsh marks he left on your previously untraced skin. The prettiest blush remains on your face, and those slightly parted lips look so appetizing. The sight is hauntingly beautiful.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you tease, feeling him still silently watching you.

He snickers. "You're gonna let me take a picture of you like this?"

"Nope. I was kidding," you say, smiling as you sit up. Toji catches you eyeing your pile of clothes and speaks up before you start reaching for it.

"Can you not get dressed, yet? Stay a little while, yeah?"

Your heart drops at the question. You tell yourself over and over that you won't be spending the night with him, in an attempt to convince yourself that after the worst that can be done with an ex has already been done, this is nothing to worry about. What's another hour spent lying next to him in his bed?

You thought that's all you would be doing together, but then you ended up showering together. His attempt to help you get cleaned up made you crave another round, which he happily indulged in. After that was when you finally lied in bed together and you really didn't want to leave by the end of it all. It was already nighttime and you had gotten so comfortable, almost forgetting that you weren't home with him. Everything smelled like Toji, even you. He kept you in his arms as you discussed the future of things between you two. A weight was lifted off his shoulders when you implied that there's still a chance.

You did decide to drive home that night and when you got there, you sat in your car, just thinking about what happened, for way too long.

The third and final day came some weeks later. You got better at responding to Toji's messages and his phone calls. Things seemed like they were rekindling between you two.

Hey, can you come see me today?

I'm not in the mood for sex, if that's what you want me there for.

You know that's not the only reason I want you. Come over.

I won't touch you if you don't want me to.

Say something.

Respond.

Oh so you don't want me to get there safe? I'm. DRIVING.

Fuck, doll. Scaring me for nothing. Drive safe.

On the drive to his room, you thought about the conversations you've had with Toji on the phone, these past weeks. Some were short and straight to the point, while others didn't allow you to put your phone down for more than three minutes. His indirectness was usually the cause of longer conversations. He didn't want to seem overbearing, so instead of saying he missed you, he would ask if you had eaten. Instead of saying he missed spending leisurely time with you, he would let you know that that one cheesy movie you like is playing on one of the TV channels.

It was sweet until nighttime came and the messages started straying from innocent longing. Conversations where he was telling you about how much he missed sleeping next to you, turned into him saying that he couldn't sleep because he wasn't holding your chest and smelling your hair. Minutes later when your phone rang, you panicked. You wanted to hear his voice, but you knew better than to try and hold an innocent conversation with him when the messages that preceded the call weren't innocent. You let the phone ring for a few seconds, but the second you heard him, you felt so many things. His voice was so deep and he sounded tired and your heart was beating way too fast. You were feeling things that contradicted everything that made you hesitant to answer his call. With every word he spoke, your mind flooded with sinful thoughts that made the space between your legs viciously throb. Maybe you were glad he was feeling this way from the start, because his voice, his words, and the sounds he made alike, all ended up getting you there.

Muscle memory got you to Toji. You were zoned out the entire time, remembering those texts between you and him, that had you giggling to yourself like when you first started dating. You were in shock when you turned into the parking lot, realizing that your mind was so occupied with Toji, that the drive seemed shorter. You walked right up to the door with the, now familiar, bold 723 on it. A few seconds went by before the door opened. Toji held the door open for you shutting it when you made it into his room.

The first thing you noticed was that he had tidied up quite a bit. It almost seemed like he had just arrived to the room, no clothes on the floor or empty food containers on the counters, but his bed wasn't made and his drawers had unfolded clothes hanging out of them. He's been like this since you lived together. It's just a habit that refuses to die.

"You made a copy of this photo?" You ask, picking up the picture frame that rests on his nightstand. You both looked annoyed in the picture. The photographer kept pestering you to get your picture taken on your date and you had politely declined so many times, but he kept insisting, so you and Toji decided to just get it over with. The photographer said 'smile', and he laughed nervously when you both kept a straight face. He gave up and snapped the picture like that.

"Nah, that's the original. It followed me here, like your clothes."

You snicker, eyes still focused on the way Toji put his arm around you in the picture. "Clothes seem a little more reasonable to haul along by accident, but this was in a box I keep hidden on the top shelf of the closet."

"It's not really hidden if I found it so easily."

"People who don't snoop around wouldn't find it as quickly."

His hands go to his pockets. The urge he feels to hug you from behind to look at the picture with you, is heavy. "It's not snooping if we used to share the closet. When I was packing my stuff, I tried not to leave anything behind, so of course I was gonna check every crevice of the house."

You put the picture down and turned to look at him.

"That was pretty selfish of you. Taking my things, but not leaving a scrap of yours behind."

"Yeah? That was selfish of me?" He grins. "You wanted me to leave something behind?"

"At least a button or... I don't know, one of your sweaters."

"A button or a sweater." He hums like he's in thought. "That's a big jump, doll." He sits down on the edge of his bed with a sigh, a small lump of his blanket flattened by his weight.

"We made a big jump, Toji. One minute we were doing stupid shit like that." Your hand aims towards the picture of you and him. "The next..." you take a deep breath and your brows pinch slightly. You don't want to get emotional. Just thinking about crying in front of him makes you anxious.

His eyes soften, slightly. The mood has shifted and you're tense. It's not how he thought this would go, but he's going to try and make it better anyway. This is it. You have to reconcile by the end of the day.

He pats the spot next to him on the bed, successfully bringing you closer, even if you were off from where he wanted you.

"What we did was hard," you start, again. "You think I didn't miss you as soon as you left home? Or that I was living happily without you, when I didn't answer your messages or calls?" You shake your head. You're trying to hold back your more distracting emotions, but your eyes are starting to feel watery. "No. My head hurt for so long, I didn't want to see anybody, and the worst part was that I couldn't stop thinking of you. It was the epitome of a crushing break up... and I needed you, but I wasn't sure if you would be around. It's what tore us apart in the first place."

Silence fills the room. You feel dumb for spilling your heart out like that. You fold your hands in your lap and hope Toji has something to say in response to your word vomit. Anything, at this point, to slaughter the increasingly, discomforting stillness in the room that is making you want to cry even more.

"I didn't know you missed me, 'til you started meeting me here." He turns his head to look at you. You're still looking down at your lap, fidgeting with your folded hands.

"Yeah, that's not something you say to someone who just became your ex. It would have made things harder on us."

There's another gap of silence while Toji calculates his words. Watching you continue your anxious mannerisms always made him nervous before. It's no different now.

"What if I said I have time for you, now?" He keeps his eyes on you, hoping to see a glint of light in your expression. "Things can go back to the way they were before."

"That sounds good and all, but will things stay that way when we start getting comfortable again? Say... a month from now?" He immediately nods in response. "How about three months from now? My days off are always gonna be the same, and yours-"

"I'll mute Shiu on your days off. No jobs on those days."

You look at him, unfolding your hands. You're not as nervous anymore, now that the talking is back and forth. "You always make exceptions. You've done it before, Toji, and I just don't want to feel second to your work, again. It's the only thing I kept myself out of when it came to you, because I know how... abnormal it is, and look where that got us."

"Listen, i'm serious about making time for you. I've been doing pretty good so far, don't you think?"

He has been. Otherwise you'd be spending your day off cleaning your place and figuring out what to make for your dinner for one. You were off the day before, too, and he called you halfway through the day, on his way back to his room.

"Yeah. I guess you are doing a lot better," you admit.

"Good enough to give it another go?"

You're the one who goes quiet this time, uncertainty coursing through your mind. You really want things to work, but it's scary. Words and these little check ins are all you can go off of, for now. You don't know how it'll be if you officially get back together.

You nod. "I think so. It's been a few months, now. Things do seem better."

He slowly released the breath he held in after asking the question. "Really? You mean that?"

"I do." You give him a soft smile that he feels he hasn't seen in so long. He can feel his heart accelerating, like a kid being returned their favorite toy after being grounded.

"Can you show me you mean it?"

"How?"

"You're sitting so far from me. Come closer," he says, patting his thigh.

"What?" You laugh. He has to be joking. You're literally two feet away from him.

"Come on. Sit with me."

He doesn't seem to be letting go of this, so you scoot even closer to him. With the assistance of his hands on your hips, he uses them as leverage to lift you onto his lap, to bring you as close to him as he can. He looks you straight in the eyes, his green ones so brilliant and warm, you would think he's about to profess his love for you for the first time.

"You got me. What is it, Toji?" You're blushing due to the gesture, a reaction that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

In one swift movement, his face is buried in your chest, his bulky arms lowered to wrap around your waist. Your eyes slightly widen at the spontaneity of the gesture, instantly softening when he starts talking.

"I felt like I was going insane, mama. I didn't wanna go." He pauses, the warm scent of your perfume working to calm him down. The back of your shirt is tightly wound around his hands. You can feel cool air against the slivers of exposed skin—a contrast to the warmth of his breath on your chest—but you hold him close. "Let me come home or stay here, just don't stray from me."

The mood shifted, again. He felt small and vulnerable, but he needed you to understand that he had feelings about leaving, too. Had things gone the way he planned them in his head, he wouldn't be uttering his sentiments into your chest. You would be watching a movie together, while cuddling and kissing, and overall, making up for the deep affection that was missed during this period of separation, but you have a strange way of making him want to be entirely honest with you.

You cover him up while he clears his mind. This is between you and him. Nothing else matters when it's Toji rambling on about how you've ruined solitary life for him. He can't do it anymore and you're entirely to blame, because you put him on to your hugs and kisses, and you tell him all the things he needs to hear and sleeping is entirely possible with you. He's addicted to you, and it's not hurting anyone, so he can't find a reason to give you up.

You sat in that position for a few minutes. Silence returned, but instead of it being awkward and uncomfortable, it was entirely welcomed. Toji was so comfortable. He could have fallen asleep like that, but you shifted in his lap and pulled him out of his idle state. He was entirely at ease when he lifted his gaze to look at you. Your expression was gentle on his eyes, unspoken forgiveness so clear.

"Come home, tomorrow. No, today. I was thinking about how you're not packed and you still have things scattered. I can help you get it all-"

He cuts off your rambling with a kiss, then another, and then one more. "Nah, i'll come back for my things, tomorrow. I just wanna go home with you, ma."

[saturnznct]

he holds the baby for the first time | enhypen x reader

➸ note; hehe my first fic back!! very much in my engene era again so expect more enha fics! hope I'm not too rusty

➸ word count: 2159 words

➸ sangyoon, sam, ella, eunhye, yeeun & serin; newborn

➸ warning(s): bloody imagery(?), breastfeeding, premature birth, c-section, mentions of breathing tube

enhypen masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

heeseung

So much could happen in the span of a year.

Heeseung couldn’t believe that in just one year, you had gotten married, found out you were pregnant on the same day, been through a whole pregnancy, and now your son was finally here.

‘He is the cutest baby there has ever been,’ Heeseung declares once he’s all cleaned up and laying on your chest.

‘You say that now, wait until we get home and he keeps us up all night long.’

‘Doesn’t make him any less gorgeous,’ Heeseung grins, ‘just like his mummy/mommy.’

‘I don’t know if that’s the best word to describe mummy/mommy right now.’

‘No, I think it’s the perfect word. You have never been more beautiful to me than you are right now.’

‘You’re cute,’ you roll your eyes, ‘I hope he looks like you.’

Heeseung turns his head to kiss the side of yours, and in that moment you yawn.

‘Oh, I think mummy/mommy needs a nap Yoonie.’

‘Hmm, I agree… Will you be okay on your own?’

‘Don’t worry about us,’ Heeseung gives you a reassuring smile, ‘you need to focus on getting rest. We’ll be just fine.’

Heeseung ever so gently lifts Sangyoon from your chest, cradling him in his arms.

‘Wake me, if he needs me,’ you mumble sleepily, turning onto your side and closing your eyes.

Heeseung settles on the couch beside the window, laying across it.

He briefly scrolls through his phone, reading notifications and answering a couple of text messages but finds he cannot tear his eyes away from Sangyoon for too long.

After a few minutes, you’re clearly asleep, face relaxed and body rising up and down rhythmically. 

Heeseung whispers to his baby boy. 

‘You’re perfect, aren’t you? I didn’t expect for you to happen so soon but.. I’m so grateful you came along when you did.’ 

Heeseung knows that you can’t really tell a baby’s features for a while, but he swears Sangyoon has his nose. His chest fills with pride.

‘I love you so so much Sangyoon-ie.’

jay

Jay had not stopped crying since the moment his son was born.

The moment the tears would begin to subside, he caught a glimpse of his baby boy laying in your arms and his eyes would become glossy again. If you’d told Jay nine months ago that this is where he would be now, he wouldn’t have believed it. But starting his family with you felt so right, like the most natural thing in the world.

‘He looks exactly like you,’ you mumble tiredly, gently rubbing Sam’s head with your thumb.

‘You think so?’

‘Oh yeah. Daddy’s twin.’

Jay’s heart leaps at the title. He studies Sam’s face for a few moments.

‘You know what, I think you’re right,’ he says, ‘Your genes stood no chance against mine.’

‘M’not complaining.’

‘Good genes all around.’

By now, Sam was a couple of hours old, and you had been doing skin-to-skin with him for some time. Coupled with the exhaustion of the birth, your eyes are growing heavy.

‘God, you must be exhausted,’ Jay notices your worn out demeanour.

‘It’s been a long day,’ you chuckle.

‘C-can I take him from you?’

‘You don’t have to ask, you’re his daddy.’

You sit up a bit, allowing Jay to take Sam from you more easily.

‘Hi baby boy,’ Sam fusses a little bit, ‘it’s okay, I’m your daddy.’

Sam’s fussing quickly turns into weak wails, and Jay’s expression drops.

‘No, no, don’t cry, please- Y/N, I think he wants to be with you-‘

‘Jay. You’re fine, just keep going. He’ll calm down.’

He looks totally out of his depth, but perseveres, continuing to shush and comfort the baby.

‘You’re okay, you’re safe, it’s just me, your mummy/mommy is still here, see?’

Sam eventually settles, cries reduced to gurgles.

Sensing his small victory, Jay is beaming, more than you’ve ever seen before. Again he can’t help but think about how natural but so foreign it feels to have his own baby in his arms.

Jay awkwardly rocks Sam, ‘I can’t believe you’re really ours, my son…’

jake

Through his career, Jake has been able to travel the world and experience so many unique things, but nothing will ever come close to watching you give birth to Ella.

You had planned for a home birth, feeling as though your home would be a comforting setting and make the process easier. You’d pictured maybe giving birth on your bed or maybe even the couch or a beanbag (not considering the mess) so it was a bit of a surprise that you wound up in your large bathtub. But, you had insisted, at the time.

Jake had sat in with you, and with the help of the midwife, had delivered Ella himself. He’d held her for just a moment, holding her under her arms as he transferred her to you, but even just that one touch had him longing for another. Jake knew how important it was for Ella to get to know yours first, so he pushed his feelings aside.

The both of you were so mesmerised by her big shiny brown eyes and little sounds that you hardly noticed the fallout from the birth pooling below you. 

‘We should really give you a hose down, Y/N,’ your midwife gestures to your separate shower, ‘are your pyjamas still laid out in the bedroom? You can get into bed afterwards.’

She leaves to grab your change of clothes while you and Jake make the awkward first handover.

Jake wanders into her nursery while you step into the shower with the midwife’s help. Ella’s hands peek out from the blanket, grasping at the air. 

‘Oh wow, hi baby,’ he whispers, holding out his finger and fitting it under Ella’s curled little hand.

Ella gurgles and spit pools between her lips, which Jake gently wiped away with the blanket. 

’You’re so tiny, almost feel like you’re gonna break.’

Jake slowly rubs her hand with his thumb.

‘Let’s put some clothes on you.’

Jake lays her down on the changing table, choosing a floral print onesie and putting it on her, just like how he learned in your antenatal classes.

He gently lifts Ella up again, taking her into your bedroom to wait for you. 

He tentatively lifts her tiny head to his lips, pressing a kiss to her forehead.‘You’re my beautiful girl, aren’t you? Gonna do my absolute best by you. I promise I’ll look after you, always.’

sunghoon

This was absolutely the greatest day of Sunghoon’s life.

His beautiful baby girl had come into the world safely, and she was everything he’d hoped for and more.

He couldn’t look at her for more than a few moments without tearing up or going on a tangent about how much he loves her and you.

He secretly (but not so secretly) had hoped for at least one daughter, and when you found out Eunhye was in fact a girl, he was ecstatic.

The moment she was born and he saw her for the first time, it was as though his heart had doubled in size, as if it had to grow bigger to make room for just how much love he had for his daughter.

Eunhye was barely two hours old when she fed for the first time. The midwife helped you with the actual feeding, getting Eunhye to latch on properly, while Sunghoon supported you more with encouraging words and helping you drink water while your hands were occupied.

Otherwise, Sunghoon felt a little unhelpful, standing at a distance and just watching. 

It was blatantly so difficult for you. The feeding hurt, your entire body ached and you felt pain all over, and he was essentially powerless.

‘She’s eating well,’ the midwife commented, ‘she’s got a good appetite.’

‘Wonder where she gets that..’

‘It’ll get easier, Y/N. You’ll both get used to it and it will hurt less and less.’

Eventually, Eunhye tries to pull away, signalling she’s done. The midwife turns to Sunghoon.

‘Dad? You want to burp the little one?’

‘Hoon?’

Sunghoon is taken aback, suddenly uneasy.

‘Is it okay?’ He asks you.

‘Hoon, you should take her. Let her get to know her daddy.’

‘Okay, Sunghoon, if you just lift her from under her arms- that’s it- rest her on your shoulder, one hand here, the other on her back.’

Eunhye feels tiny in his arms. The midwife instructs him on how to properly burp her.

‘This won’t hurt her, will it?’ 

’No,’ the midwife chuckles, ‘you’d know if it was.’

Sunghoon’s head is craned around to look at her face, unable to look away.

’You’re doing really well, Sunghoon,’ the midwife praises, and a few minutes later, Eunhye burps, then whines.

‘You’re okay, you’re okay,’ Sunghoon pouts, ‘you’re just amazing, aren’t you?’

sunoo

‘She’s an angel,’ Sunoo is just radiating pure happiness and pride. He practically has hearts in his eyes looking at your newborn daughter, who was cooing in your arms.

’She’s perfect,’ you agree.

Your baby girl’s eyes are only half open, but she’s clearly studying the two of you. 

‘Hi, baby,’ Sunoo says softly, ‘we love you so much.’

‘We really do,’ you smile.

Sunoo leans across to kiss her head, and when he pulls away he rests his hand on her head.

’Her head is so small, fits in my hand.’

‘Didn’t feel very small when it was coming out of me,’ you remark pointedly, and he winces a little.

‘Of course, I didn’t think of that. You did incredibly.’

You could see how eager Sunoo was to be close to her, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

‘Do you want to hold her?’ 

Sunoo’s eyes gloss over.

‘Is that even a question?’

‘So no then?’ 

’Shut up, give her here.’

She doesn’t fuss in the slightest when being passed to Sunoo. 

‘Oh hello my pretty angel,’ Sunoo handles her expertly, like he was made to be a dad.

He lifts her up to kiss her forehead, and lingers there for a moment. 

’She smells so good,’ Sunoo chuckles, ‘like a proper baby.’

‘She is a proper baby,’ you point out.

‘You know what I mean. I almost don’t believe she’s real. Don’t believe we really made her. She’s so pretty, it’s almost like I’m holding a doll.’

Sunoo rocks her while shifting his weight between his feet, eyes never leaving her face, warm smile never leaving his.

‘Yeeun,’ Sunoo says suddenly.

‘Huh?’

‘She looks like a Yeeun.’

You mull it over for a few moments.

‘I like it,’ you nod, ‘Yeeun it is.’

Sunoo somehow brightens even more, so proud that he’d named his daughter.

‘You’re my beautiful girl, Yeeun-ah,’ he repeatedly kisses her head, ‘I promise I’ll love and protect you always.’

jungwon

You were thirty-four weeks when your waters broke, and Serin was rushed into the world. 

She was tiny, barely five pounds. 

Jungwon held your hand throughout the whole surgery, and was reluctant to leave your side when Serin was taken away and you were being stitched up.

Serin was quickly referred to special care, and you were taken along with her. 

‘How does she look?’ you ask Jungwon, while your baby girl is getting hooked up to the equipment.

‘She’s beautiful,’ Jungwon holds your hand again, squeezing it gently, ‘so beautiful. She’ll be okay.’

For hours, you feel hopeless. You feel so empty, and you ache to hold and be with your daughter. 

Jungwon convinces you to get some sleep, which after the long day you’ve had, it finds you easier than you thought.

You wake up to Jungwon shaking you gently.

‘Baby, look who it is.’

He helps you sit up while Serin is wheeled into the room in a crib. 

She has patches on her body, to monitor her heart rate and breathing, and a breathing tube in her nose. 

‘She’s very healthy Mama,’ the midwife says, ‘just needs some help with those lungs.’

‘Can- can we hold her?’ you ask weakly.

‘You can,’ the midwife smiles.

You sob when she’s finally placed on your chest and you get to do skin to skin. 

‘Look at her,’ you cry, and when you look at Jungwon, he’s wiping away tears.

He opens his mouth to speak, but chokes out a sob of his own.

An hour flies by and the midwife returns, both to check on you and the baby. You feed Serin for the first time.

‘Daddy, would you like a hold?’ The midwife asks, and Jungwon’s heart skips a beat.

‘Can I?’ he asks you, and you nod.

The midwife helps, keeping the wires out of the way. 

The moment Serin is placed in his arms, Jungwon’s entire world changes.

‘Hey Serin,’ Jungwon says softly, ‘hi sweetheart. You’re our strong girl, aren’t you?’

Tears roll down your cheeks, hormones and stress of the day catching up to you.

‘Our fighter girl,’ he muses, ‘you are so so loved.’

[fastandcarlos]

Rest Baby : ̗̀➛ Daniel Ricciardo

summary: when he wakes up to find you not by his side, daniel's heart his broken when he hears how his baby has been awake all night long

Glancing at Daniel fast asleep beside you only made you feel worse as your body jolted you awake once again. The hours were running away from you, and yet still you found yourself lying wide awake, with sleep evading you.

Each time you closed your eyes, your mind switched straight back on again seeming to overthink everything at the most inopportune times to keep you awake.

You were used to erratic nights, but tonight seemed to outlast the lot. You were on the verge of tears, desperate for sleep, but your mind had decided that it had other ideas as to how you’d spend your night.

Lying awake once again, frustration crept up on you. It only seemed like a matter of time before you disturbed Daniel beside you, opting in the end to slide yourself out from the bed. You were as silent as you could be, footsteps small and slow to make sure you didn’t wake the figure beside you. His light snores told you everything you needed to know, envious of how well he was resting next to you.

With a weak smile on your face, you left Daniel to catch up on his sleep, opening the door to your bedroom and stepping out of the room. You hated leaving Daniel, having him beside you was a great comfort in the night, but you couldn’t risk waking him.

Your footsteps were quiet as you headed downstairs, immediately taking a seat beside the window of your living room which overlooked your garden.

The fields felt as if they were never-ending that backed onto your house, in the daylight the views were breath-taking, and at night, as you were right now, you loved trying to remember where everything was in the pitch black.

It was by far your favourite part of your home, a place where you and Daniel loved to spend a lot of your time. You’d sit for hours, especially when he just came home and catch up on all of the things that you’d missed. Usually you sat with a big smile on your face, listening to all of Daniel’s funny stories, but now you sat there for another reason, purely out of exhaustion.

You hoped that lazily sitting, focusing your mind on the outside would be enough to help you fall asleep. You busied yourself for a few minutes, listening out intently out of fear that Daniel would end up waking up and wondering where you were.

After a few minutes you picked up your phone from beside you, cringing as you saw what time it was. You threw your head back as you let go of a groan, silently praying that someone would listen and help you finally rest.

As usual, you soon found yourself in a loophole of scrolling, catching up with what you had missed during your time battling with sleep. Time seemed to fly by as you scrolled and scrolled, hardly paying attention to what you were watching as you felt your eyes begin to get heavy. You were just about to place your phone down when a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“Babe,” Daniel sleepily spoke, rubbing against his eyes. He was just as quiet as you were as he walked down the stairs, taking a seat beside you, his hand resting against the top of your leg, squeezing it gently.

“Sorry,” you hummed, accepting Daniel’s invite to cuddle into his side. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I just turned over and suddenly you weren’t there, I was worried that something had happened to you.”

“I’m all good…just tired.”

"I’m sorry,” he whispered in reply, offering you a sympathetic smile. “One of those nights?” He then asked, knowing exactly how the nights could treat you sometimes. He squeezed against your frame as you nuzzled into him, feeling his fingertips run gently against your arm.

“I’m so tired love, it’s just not fair.”

“Is there anything I can do?” He curiously questioned.

“I don’t know, nothing seems to be working tonight,” you sighed, placing your hand against his chest. “I think I’m destined to just stay awake for the whole night.”

“You can’t do that,” Daniel sighed, knowing just how important sleep was.

“Just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the time and the busy schedule that Daniel had ahead of him.

His eyes rolled as you spoke, “you don’t need to worry about me.” “I always worry about you.”

“I know, it’s why you’re so annoying.”

Your hand hit against his chest as Daniel sniggered back at you, relief appearing on his face as he saw a small glimmer of a smile on your face again.

“I’ve got an idea to help you.”

“What’s that?” You smiled, feeling Daniel tighten his grip around you once again, resting his head against the top of yours as he stretched his legs out in front of you.

“We’ll stay here together until you fall asleep, this is one of your favourite spots to nap after all,” Daniel smiled down at you.

“You’re not going to be comfortable sleeping here, are you insane?”

“I don’t care, as long as it helps you.”

“But I-“ you spoke, only to be cut off.

“Just trust me babe, it’s a great idea,” Daniel insisted, pressing a soft kiss against the side of your head. He refused to let you move, hoping that his hold against your frame would leave you feeling so warm that you’d have no choice but to fall asleep.

As you allowed your eyes to close, your chest soon rose and fell at the same time as Daniel’s, unaware of his eyes fluttering shut above you too. Or so you thought. Daniel tried his best to pretend to sleep, eyes flickering open every so often so that he could check on you, making sure that you were finally getting the rest that you deserved.

Once he was sure that you were asleep, Daniel carefully slid his arms underneath your frame, gently lifting you from the seat and pulling you tightly in against his chest.

He was incredibly cautious as he moved up the stairs, placing you back in the same spot that you had vacated just under an hour earlier. “Sleep well my love,” he mused, tucking you in tightly again underneath the duvet. .

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[peachigummi]

here's a lesson ✎ mattheo riddle.

summary: classic mattheo coming to terms with how he feels about reader. slytherins are having a formal party - and guess what! someone else asks reader to the party, making him jealous!! mattheo tells them it’s a bad idea. yet, they still decide to go through with it. he obviously takes the opportunity to smugly watch from afar while trying to have fun himself. he’ll teach you a thing or two about what happens when you don’t listen to him 🤭🤭.

pairing: tutor / best friend! mattheo x fem! reader (one use of “y/n”)

warnings: mainly banter, mild jealousy (aka not too insanely toxic), mentions of alcohol/weed, spanking, spitting (one mention of it), fingering, unprotected piv, missionary (if it’s hard to imagine the position), pillow princess action ✨ (I’ll say this again, personally, ME, personally, me and I, could not ever let this slide when it comes to Mattheo, im too feral.), overstimulation, dacryphilia (i do think our dear matty would kinda really be into it), choking, eh kind of edging, praise!, creampie 🫣🤭🤭

note:  im very sorry for not keeping my word about putting this out before my trip with my buds. althoughhhh i brought my laptop with me and here i am c: working on this for yall. i really hope you enjoy this, its a lengthy read because i just love tension so much.

word count: 11k+ (partially why this took so long to post im so sorry. lots of plot)

(trust i will never perfectly proofread my work at this point)

mattheo told me that he expects you to reblog, like & comment so you better do it. do you want to make him mad? (BWAHAHA jk...unless 🤨)

°. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Mattheo and you were seated on one of the sunny courtyard tables, papers and books displayed all out on the flat surface. You were distracted by your phone, paying little focus on the task at hand. You let out small laughs and smiles, Mattheo was watching you for a while now wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You would snort and shake your head, sighing to yourself. He didn’t like that someone or something was distracting you from him and your studies..of course the studies were more important despite listing himself first. He leaned over to grab your chin, forcing you to turn and face up at him, “pay attention.” Mattheo hissed.

You couldn’t help but blush as he did this, making you look into his deep brown eyes, “I’m sorry Mattheo…”

A small smirk appears on his face when he notices you blush, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “You should be. You’re too distracted on that damn phone.” He continues to hold your chin in place.

“I was just asked out on a date…I mean I think it’s a date…” you move his hand away from your face, going back to your phone. You scroll up on the message thread and push it toward him to look over.

Mattheo’s smirk vanished and was replaced with a look of irritation, first when you pulled away from him, and secondly, after reading the message exchange. He pushes your phone back at you, looking at your eyes with annoyance. “Why would he do that? Why would you say yes?” He asked with a snarky tone, clearly not pleased about you being asked out by someone else.

Mattheo had been your tutor at first, but eventually you both became close friends through the forced proximity. Your grades were much higher because of him, and despite not needing him as much for that purpose - you both still hung out with each other. To be truthful and completely honest with yourself, it was because you had a fat crush on him…but it never turned into anything more. So you just enjoyed being his friend.

You decided to jump back into the dating scene after the unsuccessful attempt (as if you even tried confess to Mattheo and turn your relationship into something more; you needed him to make the first move), but it was a struggle because well…you were with Mattheo most of the time. At this point people thought that you had an open relationship, where he’s the one going on dates with different girls and not you. People didn’t approach you, not romantically. So naturally, you were in a state of giggling surprise when you were asked out. 

“It’s Charlie…do you know him? Yay big, muscular, dark headed, dreamy bedroom eyes…he’s a Ravenclaw.” You describe him while showing Mattheo goofy photos of Charlie that he had sent you.

He clenched his jaw, clearly not liking the way you described him. He pushed your phone away again, not wanting to see more of the guy. “Yeah, I know him. He’s in my class.” He said coldly, looking at your eyes with irritation. 

“Really - what’s he like in it?” You leaned into Mattheo, excited for more information on Charlie.

“Why would you want to go out on a date with him?” Mattheo ignored your question. 

“Why not? It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone…” you rolled your eyes, “you wouldn’t understand since you’re always going out.”

He huffed as soon as you mentioned him going on dates. It wasn’t exactly untrue, but the fact that you were going out on a date with someone else now annoyed him more than he’d like to admit. “Because you could do so much better than him and besides, who says I always go on dates?” Mattheo crossed his arms, looking slightly defensive.

Yeah - like I could be dating you!

You let out a sigh. “Mattheo don’t even play games with me right now. You literally went on a date with my childhood best friend last week! And you knew how much that pissed me off.”

He couldn’t help but wince slightly as you brought that up, clearly regretting it. “Okay fine. And? That was last week.”

“I heard from a little owl that Margie has been begging you to take her to her grandfather’s funeral as a date!” You blurt out almost laughing, “can you imagine how insane that sounds!? Bless her grandfather, may he rest in peace…but goddamn Mattheo, these girls are shameless when it comes to you.”

He rolled his eyes, he had to admit, he couldn’t believe just how desperate some girls were when it came to him. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I’ve told her multiple times that I don't want to go with her, but she just won't listen. She’s persistent as hell!” 

You nudged his side playfully, “you’ve got to admit it’s kind of funny though.” You smile at him. It was easy to get him frustrated, but at the end of the day you didn’t want him to feel that way. It was bad on the body to be so angry all the time.

He groaned, but couldn't hold back his chuckle. “Yeah I suppose it is a little funny…and annoying. Mostly annoying.” Mattheo said in a slightly lighter tone. While he did love to have girls practically throwing themselves at him all the time, it did get to be too much sometimes.

“But yeah…Charlie asked me if I wanted to go to our own Slytherin party…like duh I was already going!” You paused going back to your notes, comparing them to Mattheo’s, “I mean could you imagine me turning him down and still having to see him in my own common room?”

He huffed again, not liking how you brought the conversation back to Charlie. “Well you could’ve at least pretended to think about it. Don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” He really didn’t like the idea of you going to this party with him, but he didn’t want to come off as too possessive either.

“Wrong idea? I think I like him. He’s funny…smart..and seems nice enough.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at your notes, “no one ever approaches me…they’re too afraid of you.”

Mattheo’s eyes narrow slightly when you admit this, and when you list what his good qualities were. He clenched his jaw, “What, you mean you actually like him? Really?” There was a hint of jealousy in his voice that he couldn’t quite completely hide.

“Oh c’mon Matty, it’s not a crime.” You put your hand behind his back, rubbing circles to calm him down. “Let me just take a chance. If things go bad then you can rub it in my face okay? You can tell me that I was ~dumb~ that you were ~right~” You say in a singsong voice, knowing how much he liked teasing you when it came to showing how much better he was than you.

He couldn’t fight staying irritated when you touched him like that. It was slowly calming him down, “fine, fine. I’ll let you have a chance with this guy.” He spits one last time. “If things go bad I am most definitely going to rub it in your face. I guess I’ll have to go to this party to watch you.”

“That’s my boy.” You put your head on his shoulder before returning to your notes, “Now how do I pronounce this incantation?”

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Once you finished your studying together, you both walked to the great hall to have dinner. You were both back to your usual joking selves. You sat down at the Slytherin table, there was a louder buzz than usual, everyone seemed excited for the weekend to start.

“I guess everyone’s excited for tomorrow.” Mattheo said, watching you sit down first before he did.

“I have this new dress just for the event too! I love how there’s a solid theme this time around. It’ll be fun to see everyone dressed up all spiffy.” You say excitedly, being easily influenced by everyone’s energy. You grabbed Mattheo’s plate, serving him his food first before grabbing something for yourself.

 “Oh, a new dress? I bet it looks good on you.” He smiled at your excitement, but he was still feeling slightly annoyed and worried at your choice of date. He tried not showing it. He watched as you served him his food, his eyes unable to hide his affection he had for you. You always took good care of him. He took a deep breath before speaking. “I don't want anything bad to happen to you at this party. I know you’re excited and everything, but just be careful alright? I’ll be there watching but…I’m going to be outnumbered. There’s going to be lots of people and not all of them are good.”

You notice his change. You set his plate down in front of him and feel his forehead with the back of your hand. “Mattheo are you okay?”

He batted your hand away when you checked his forehead, clearly not liking being fussed over. “I’m fine. I just…don't trust other guys around you. They’re animals and they might try something with you, especially since you’re going to wear this new dress that you’re so excited about…” He could just imagine the looks you’d be getting already.

“Oh stop it Mattheo. I appreciate your concern, but it has nothing to go with the dress. Literally everyone is going to be dressed up, it’s going to be fancy. Here, if it makes you feel any better I can show you my dress beforehand for your approval.” You try hard to keep yourself from rolling your eyes, Mattheo had good intentions but he didn’t need to worry.

He smirked, he liked the idea of being the one to approve your dress, even though he knew he was being overbearing and overprotective. “Yeah, I think that would make me feel better. I mean, I need to make sure the dress is appropriate and not too revealing, you know?” He couldn’t help but relish having that power over you.

“It really isn’t though, it’s perfect and beautiful. It shows the perfect amount of skin to make it fun.” You bite your finger and wink at him. You took your own plate now, choosing your usuals.

Mattheo watched as you filled your plate, his eyes unable to resist roaming over your body for a moment as you leaned over the table, “perfect amount of skin, huh? I’ll be the judge of that.”

You knew that Mattheo was staring at you, so you wiggle your hips a little before sitting down. You smack the side of his head when he continues gawking, “tame yourself, Riddle.” He chuckled when you did this. He was going to make a snarky remark when Theodore came over and interrupted you both.

“GUYS PLEASE!” Theodore said, putting an arm around each of you, “hurry up and finish eating, I need help with the common room set up.”

“Damn it, Theo, can’t you just wait? We’ll help you set up the common room, just give us a break for now.” He didn’t like being interrupted when he was enjoying your presence.

You look at him, “Teddy, we still have a full day. Don’t be so worried. You’ll have more hands to help you now that everyone is done with Friday classes.” Theodore wanted to lead this event, he had complained for too long that Slytherins needed to reestablish a sense of powerful class and elegance. “You’re looking pale. Come sit, eat. You can’t miss your own party.” You pull Theodore down to sit in between Mattheo and you.

Theodore slumped down in the seat, grumbling about how stressed he was about the party. “I just want everything to be perfect, okay? This party needs to be one to be remembered, we can’t be known for having sleazy ones. Ugh…who am I kidding, knowing our house, everything is going to turn out terrible -”

“Teddy, no it’s not.” You take his plate, filling it with different proteins to give him energy. “Look around, everyone is excited. They’ll all be more than willing to help. We all know this party is going to be different from the rest.” You hug him after setting his plate down. 

He looks around the Great Hall, feeling the buzz. “I guess you’re right.” He looked down at his plate and began to eat, taking your advice to give himself some energy. 

You couldn't help but ruffle his hair knowing how stressed he was, “please take care of yourself okay? We’ll help. Mattheo and I will go with you after this.” Theo didn’t mind the hair ruffle, he actually cracked a smile at your concern for him and the fact that you were trying to take care of him when he wasn’t. If it wasn’t for Mattheo’s not so subtle possession over you, Theo would have made you his by now. 

You lean backwards over to slap Mattheo’s arm subtly so he could say some words of encouragement. 

“Damn it, woman, quit slapping me.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, rubbing his arm where you had slapped him, giving you a mock-hurt look. You glare at him, go on say something nice! “Alright, alright. Look, Theo, you’ve always have great ideas for stuff like this. This party will be a success, okay? Just relax and take it easy, we want to see you at your own party tomorrow.” He was sounding a bit mocking, but he was sincere.

You smile at him, pleased with his words. 

Draco suddenly popped up in front of the group, “which should I wear…!” He looked nearly as panicked as Theodore did. The three of you looked at the two suits he was holding up. They were literally identical down to the cufflinks. You wanted to snort. 

“Seriously, Draco? Those suits look exactly the same. Just close your eyes and pick one, geez.” Mattheo spoke up, finding it amusing how ridiculous Draco was over such a trivial thing. You were trying your hardest to hold in your laugh, your mouth was cupped by your hand. 

“You guys suck.” Draco said before making his way to Astoria. We watched as she looked just as confused as we did, but she pointed at one of them. He visibly looked immediately relaxed. Draco was hopeless sometimes.

“Seriously, Draco can be such a drama queen sometimes. He couldn’t even pick an outfit without needing Astoria’s help. He’s so dependent on her sometimes.”

“I kinda love that for them though…” You stared at the two love birds before returning to your plate, rolling the grape around with your fork. 

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, giving you a smirk. “You’re such a hopeless romantic. Always swooning over other couples and their lovey-dovey moments.” He felt a little pang of guilt, for not allowing another man to get close to you so you could experience that. We shook his head when he thought about that, trying to get rid of the feeling.

“Shut up Mattheo.” You stabbed the grape, putting it into your mouth begrudgingly. As you did so you looked toward the Ravenclaw table, seeing that Charlie was already staring at you. You wondered for how long he was watching you. You blushed and waved.

Mattheo let out a soft sigh, he enjoyed knowing he could rile you up with his teasing. He followed your gaze and saw you looking at Charlie, who was staring at you lovesick. “Oh great, there’s your lover boy, looking at you like a lost puppy.” He snickered, hating it.

You dropped your smile when you pried your eyes off Charlie, “blah blah blah.” Mattheo was lucky Theodore was still silently munching on his food in between you two, or it would have earned him another smack on the head or an ear pull. “And who are you taking as your date?”

He just shrugged, “I literally made the decision to go to this party once I found out you were going… with someone. I will have to just go solo.” He said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the idea of being able to flirt with other girls without the constraints of being tied down to a date, “that way I can have freedom to do whatever I want.” He felt that pang of guilt again for his hypocrisy.

“Fair enough.” You knew how much he liked to flirt, it boosted his ego. “Just don’t get beat up when you hit on the wrong girl. I won't be there to stop that fight, I wouldn’t want to ruin my hair and dress.”

He laughed, amused with your warning. “Please, doll. I know how to pick the right girls to flirt with. I’m not worried about getting beat up by their partners. They always fall for my charm.” He said, clearly confident with his ability to charm anyone, even those with jealous partners.

“Who falls for your charm? The girl or their partner?” You laugh.

He didn’t like your sarcastic response, “Oh ha ha. Very funny. Obviously, I meant the girls. But let’s be honest, there have been a few of their partners who have fallen for me as well. I’m just that irresistible, you know?”

“Actually…I do believe that. All hail king Mattheo.” You move your hands up and down in his direction.

“Can you two shut up?” Theodore blurted with his mouth full of food, “I’m trying to think here.”

You both stared at Theodore, then looked at each other one more time sharing a silent agreement. Mattheo smacked Theo’s back while you pulled on his hair. Theodore groaned in surprise. Before he could properly react, the two of you had bolted out of the great hall. 

Mattheo and you made it down to the dungeons, having ran the whole way. You pointed at Mattheo to say the passcode, you were too out of breath.

He laughed, enjoying your flustered out-of-breath state and how you were leaning against a wall. Clearly not conditioned like he was. He was hardly winded, “Viper’s Den.” Mattheo opened the door for you, you followed him inside.

“Wooaahhh! What the hell does Teddy need help with? This looks amazing.” You looked around the heavily decorated room. You twirled around taking in the sight, there was no way this was the same common room. 

Mattheo stared at your reaction with a smile, barely noticing the room. He had to peel his eyes away from you when you stopped twirling. “He outdid himself.”

He looked around nodding in approval, “Oh! Come over here!” He beckons you over to a corner of the room. He gestures over to a table that had a clear covering over it. It had an array of sweet-smelling treats. There were honey buns, chocolate cakes, berry tarts, and everything in between. It was like a little piece of sweet heaven. He began to peel back the covering when you slapped his hand. 

“Stop it. Wait for tomorrow night.” 

“You’re no fun. I just wanted a small nibble, we didn’t even get to have dessert at the great hall.”

You look around again, there was an identical table. “All that’s missing is the drinks…you know I heard another rumor that those Hufflepuffs want to help out too with some herbs. If you catch my drift.” You smile at him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Maybe we can get high again! It’s been so long!” You laughed at the last time Mattheo and you partook in their drugs. You had a sleepover in Mattheo’s dorm for three days straight. Surviving on just water and sleep. 

He nodded in agreement, clearly remembering the same thing. “Oh yeah, that was fun. I would love to have another sleepover like that again.” His grin got bigger as he reminisced. He thought about how you both slept on his floor together because the bed was too small and he kept falling off of it. He remembered you being so attached to him that night, being a needy mess. But he was all for it. He couldn’t wait to blow the smoke into each other’s mouths once again.

The door opened, snapping him out of the train of thought, it was Theodore. He looked annoyed but glad to see you both there. “Good. Here’s what I need you two to do.” He started to list things off. Mattheo groaned, but got to work, knowing the promise you both made to him. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

You got out of the shower, it felt good. It was an intense session. You used your best soaps, exfoliators, you shaved, you slathered on a scented lotion that had a light shimmer to it. You went to town manicuring your nails, curling your hair, and doing your makeup. You would have normally been tired of all this work, but this event was special for you. It was a chance to actually dress up for once and pamper yourself. 

You took your dress, carefully folding it over your arm. You took your heels in another hand, going out of your dorm and locking it. You headed the opposite direction of the hall towards Mattheo’s room.

Mattheo was in his dorm, getting ready for the party too. He was carefully putting on his tie in the mirror, making sure it was perfect. He looked himself over, admiring his reflection with a smirk. He heard a knock on the door, and he called out, “who is it?”

There were people starting to scurry around between dorms too, so it wasn’t out of place that you were standing outside of his. There was a small commotion downstairs as people made their way into the Slytherin common room meeting with their dates and friends.

“Matty, it's me. Open up, I'm here to fulfill my promise.” You couldn’t help but lightly laugh at the fact he wanted to make sure your dress was ‘appropriate’ enough.

He had been waiting for you to come by, “Oh, doll. You’re finally here, huh?” He made his way over to the door and opened it, revealing you there.

You push past Mattheo in order to enter his room. You didn’t bother waiting for permission to enter. You set your dress down on his bed, putting the heels on the floor.

Mattheo laughed, enjoying your eagerness to get ready for the party. He closed the door behind you, locking it to ensure privacy. “Someone’s in a hurry, aren’t we?” He teased watching you, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of your dress.

“I mean not anymore no, I was actually taking my sweet time.”

He sensed your annoyance immediately, “what did that jackass do?” Mattheo went to stand right behind you, trying to mask his rising anger at the possibilities. He took a strand of your hair, admiring how soft and perfect the curl was. It bounced lightly in his hand.

You shrug. “Charlie messaged me saying that he’ll be here in like two hours-” You weren’t able to hide your disappointment, especially with Mattheo who could read you easily even without legilimency. “-even though the party is basically starting now.”

Mattheo’s smirk faded as you mentioned that, looking away from your curl in his hand he scoffs, “two hours? Seriously? Isn’t he supposed to be your date? What’s his stupid excuse?”

“Beats me.” You turn around to face your best friend, you couldn’t help but let a smile erupt on your face as you really noticed him. “Mattheo..!” You whistled, “you clean up real good.”

Just that easily, his smirk returned, clearly enjoying your compliment. “Yeah, I know. I look damn good, don’t I?” He said just as cockily. He made a show of straightening out his tie and smoothing his hair down. He had already been pleased with how he looked, but it felt even better hearing it come out of your mouth.

He went with an all black outfit, even his shoes were surprisingly clean and polished. You reached out to him, putting your hands on his shoulders. You inspected his front, flipped him, checked out his back. His toned muscles were peeking out from under his dress shirt. It was amazing, his wide shoulders and small waist. His biceps were being contained just right. You smoothed the fabric down. You turned him to face you again, feeling proud. 

Mattheo had let you inspect him without a peep. Enjoying the way you ran your hands over his body, admiring every single detail of his outfit. He tried to act aloof and nonchalant, but he couldn’t help feeling flattered by your attention. “Having fun, are you? Admiring my good looks, princess?”

“Actually yes. I have nothing snarky to say.” You laugh, “okay okay maybe one-” Mattheo raised his eyebrows for you to continue, “-are you sure they didn’t have maybe a half size larger for your dress shirt? Or did you purposely go smaller? You look massive..” 

“Oh, shut up. This shirt looks perfect on me.” He wasn’t actually offended, he enjoyed the banter with you “…But yeah I did go for a smaller size. Clearly it was a good decision if I have your attention.” 

“Yeah yeah whatever.” You look at his hair, he had slicked it back, but you could still see the ends of his hair wanting to curl back. You loved his curly hair. He looked so…so hot right now. Thank God, you were starting to take those private occlumency lessons with Professor Snape so this idiot couldn’t read your mind. Plus you made him promise you to not enter your mind after a mishap two years ago.

He smiled as you noticed your gaze lingering on his hair. He ran a hand through his hair, slightly messing it up, causing some of the curls to revert back to their usual state. “What, you'd rather have my hair like this, huh?” 

“God, fuck yes. Mattheo thank you for doing that. It looks much more natural on you. The pomade does help define them much more though.” You smile up at him too, “anyway!” You turn back around to face your dress, but in reality you started to feel yourself blush like you were running a fever.

Mattheo noticed the hint of a blush appearing on your cheeks just before you turned away from him, “are you blushing? Is someone a little flustered, hmmm?” He teased.

You choose to ignore his comment. “I’m going to use your bathroom, I don’t trust you enough to just close your eyes for this.” You take your dress and heels into his bathroom and close the door quickly. 

With a pout, “Hey, I'm totally trustworthy! I swear I won't peek-” He began to say before hearing you lock the door. There was no point in protesting.

You undressed, leaving your pajamas on his bathroom floor. You slipped quickly yet carefully into the black satin dress. You had forgotten that it was a corset back and would need help clasping it together. You held the back together with your hands, admiring the vision. It was a long gown, with a slit running up your right leg and stopping just below your hip. You put on a matching black set of heels. You thought you looked very pretty, a rarity on your behalf. You made sure your hair and makeup were still fine. You went to crack open the bathroom door, taking a deep breath, still holding the back of the dress together with a single hand so it wouldn’t slip off. “Matty?”

Mattheo was already waiting patiently outside of the bathroom door, drumming his fingers on the wall as he tried to ignore the image of you undressing just on the other side. He perked up when he heard your voice calling out from behind the door, a smile reappeared on his face. “Yes, doll? You done yet?” He was unable to keep the eagerness out of his tone, so he went and put his hand around the door, trying to make you open it wider so he could see all of you.

“I actually need your help…” You let him open the door, “I forgot this was a corset, and not a zip up. I need you to clap me in.” You laugh, “I mean clasp.”

He laughed at your little Freudian slip, he was amused at how you got those two words confused. He wondered what you really wanted, but he also pushed that thought back too. He raised a single eyebrow as he took in the sight of you. His eyes widening in surprise at how stunning you looked. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and the split on the right leg gave him a glimpse of your smooth skin. “Damn princess, you look…beautiful.” He said this, his voice growing a bit huskier as he approached you. He pulled you by your waist so you would come out of the bathroom and into the well lit bedroom instead. 

“Thank you…I think so too..” You blushed as he complimented you, letting him pull you closer to him. Mattheo turned you over so your back was turned toward him.

“I’m very happy you think the same.” He gently gathered your hair, pulling it to one side so it was out of the way.

“It might be a little tricky.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I can handle it.” He moved your hands out of the way, so the dress split open, stopping at the small of your back. You held the front of the dress up to keep it from falling. Mattheo nearly started to salivate at the sight of your bare back to him, how it exposed more of your skin to him, he was loving the view. He hated having to fasten you into the dress instead of just slipping it off and skipping the party. Mattheo mentally slapped himself, to stop thinking about you in that way.

“Everything okay?” You say, feeling a bit self conscious as Mattheo paused for a moment. He cleared his throat. He started at the bottom of the corset, fastening you in carefully. His hands graze your bare skin occasionally, sending shivers down your spine. He made sure to not pull too tightly, asking you throughout the process if it was enough. “I don’t know if I should be mad or grateful that you know how to do this.” You close your eyes at the feeling of him working on you.

“Why would you be mad? I have a lot of hidden talents.” He finished up the corset, taking a step back to admire his handiwork, “there we go. Looks good and perfect…and secure.”

You let your hands fall to the side, trusting that it wouldn’t fall down now. You gave a small twirl to Mattheo, ending it with a curtsey. He kept a smile at you, his eyes turning a shade darker. You look at the mirror admiring how you looked now that you were finished. You readjusted your hair. “So I'm assuming that this dress is appropriate enough for this event…for you?”

“Appropriate? You look amazing. You’re going to put every other witch at this party to shame. You look like a true goddamn princess, one that I want all to myself.”

You felt your heart skip at his words, it felt different. It was all you could ever ask from him, God if only he liked me back, you thought. If only he wasn’t just saying this because he was your best friend. You go to wrap your arms around him, giving him a tender hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist in return, pulling you tighter into him. Mattheo closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his. Your sweet scent was driving him crazy. 

He buried his face in your hair, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within him. There was no denying how much he cared for you, but he was still struggling to acknowledge his true feelings for you. 

You gave his biceps a gentle squeeze, pulling back, “shall we head down?” You smile at him.

He nods in agreement, returning your smile with a smirk of his own. “It’ll be an honor…and respecfully, fuck your ‘date’ for not being here, but also I wouldn’t want it any other way. To just walk you down, is an honor in itself.” Mattheo held his arm for you to take, offering to escort you to the party downstairs.

You roll your eyes, but you don't want to admit that you agree with him. You started to have your own doubts about Charlie, maybe it was kind of stupid to think…you could..fall in love with someone else. You had to at least give him a chance..right? You ended up taking Mattheo’s arm, linking elbows, while you placed your other hand on his forearm.

Mattheo could sense your uncertainty in your date, he wanted to just flat out tell you again that he wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t wait to rub it in your face, but deep down he didn’t want to see you hurt. He covered your hand with his own. He was cherishing this moment, feeling a small sense of triumph.

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

The party was already in full motion by the time you went down the stairs. People were going around laughing and dancing. The refreshment table was already nearly half way empty. You had to wonder if people showed up earlier than expected out of the excitement. You felt people stare at you and Mattheo. His grip on you was gentle, yet firm and possessive. Mattheo himself could feel, and see the envy, coming off the people as their eyes roamed over you. You could say the same thing, but you thought the looks were because you had Mattheo’s attention, and he was dressed up as well.

You both walked over to the drink table, each of you grabbing a glass of whatever was closest, “cheers to a good evening.”

He clicked his drink to yours, “Cheers.” He tilted the drink into his mouth, still scanning the party as he did so. He was mentally taking note of those eyes that lingered on you for too long.

“Mattheo, I know this is supposed to be a party…but can I ask a lesson from you right now?” You ask, setting down your empty glass. Already feeling the warmth from the drink start to take effect.

With an eyebrow raised again, intrigued by the idea of teaching you something in this setting, “A lesson, huh? Sure what do you want to learn?”

“Can you teach me how to dance?” You blush, “I know just how ridiculous that sounds but I usually just sit around and smoke at parties…so this feels new.”

He laughed, but not in a mean way. He found it surprisingly cute how you requested this, especially considering your usual party habits. “It’s not ridiculous at all. I'd be happy to teach you.” He held out his hand to you, gesturing for you to take it. “May I have this dance?”

You took his hand, “I like this version of Mattheo, so elegant and charming.” You cooed playfully, following him onto the dance floor.

“Careful doll, compliment me too much and I might start to think you actually like me. Romantically.” He teased, unable to resist throwing a playful jab.

You couldn’t say anything to that, you only blushed further, if only you knew how much I really liked you Mattheo, so ironic of you to say that.

Mattheo was loving the effect his words had on you, “What, lost for words now? Something tells me there’s no comeback for that one?”

“So…so what’s the first step?” You change the subject back to the lesson on dancing.

He shook his head, but understood you wanting to change the subject. “First step to the classic ballroom position - holding each other firmly.” He adjusted his grip on your waist and took your hand in his, positioning you in the correct dance position. 

“Okay, easy enough.” You looked into his eyes, one hand on his shoulder. “I swear I was probably born with eight left feet, I’ve never thought to dance.”

He chuckled again, finding your honesty endearing. “Don’t worry, princess. You’re in good hands. Just follow my lead, okay? We’ll start with the basic steps. First, step backward with your left foot as I step forward with my right.” He gently guided your movements, slowly moving in unison with him.

You couldn’t help but look down at your feet as he began to show you more steps. You started to get the hang of it, only after a couple accidental steps on his own feet. Though you didn’t apologize so much since he was finding it so fun to tease you earlier. 

Mattheo was just so stricken with you, he would only chuckle and sigh as each time you stepped on him, finding your clumsiness adorable. “Thanks for ruining my shoes.”

“I’m doing it on purpose at this point.” You look back at him smiling. He feigned a look of shock, pretending to be offended.

“Ah so you’re doing it intentionally? That’s playing dirty, doll.” He spun you around before bringing you close to him. You rested your head on his chest, you could finally reach it comfortably with the height the heels gave you. You closed your eyes, listening to his heart.

His breath hitched, he liked the feeling of you being so close to him. The way your body fit against his perfectly. He dug his fingers deeper into your sides as he dipped you backwards, using it as an excuse to get even closer. His face was dangerously close to yours.

You forgot how to breathe for a second as you watched Mattheo. You noticed a slight change in him, something only you could notice. He had gotten…nervous. He pulled you both up right again. When he did this you noticed Charlie standing behind him, clearing his throat. “Sorry for being late… My roommate had an urgent matter. I came as fast as I could.”

Mattheo’s body tensed as he heard Charlie’s voice behind him. His grip on you tightened, protectiveness seeping into his touch as he reluctantly pulled you back away from him. He hated that he actually ended up showing, having to interrupt the moment he was sharing with you. He plastered a fake smile on his face as he turned to face Charlie, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Ah Charlie. Finally decided to grace us with your presence huh?”

Your date gave Mattheo a confused look, he didn’t seem to really be intimidated by him. Which made sense, if he even had made the effort to ask you out on this date knowing full well he would have to face The Mattheo Riddle. A fact other guys were immediately put off by. “Yeaahh..” He scratched the back of his head, “um thanks for keeping Y/N company for me.” He let out a small laugh, offering his arm to you just as Mattheo had done.

Mattheo didn’t bother hiding his annoyance at Charlie’s casual demeanor, especially as he offered his arm to you. His jaw clenched visibly, fighting the urge to snap at him. He kept his composure the best he could, maintaining the strained yet police facade. “No problem.” He said tersely, his gaze flickering between you and Charlie with a hint of possessiveness.

Almost reluctantly you go to take Charlie’s arm. He smiled down at you, he brought forward his other arm that was hidden behind his back this whole time. “I brought this for you…” it was a single rose. 

You smiled while taking it, “thank you, this is beautiful.” You look back at Mattheo, “I’ll talk to you later? Enjoy yourself Matty.”

Oh how Mattheo wanted to bash at Charlie’s face with his fists. He watched as you thanked him for the rose, his eyes darkened with jealousy and frustration, that wasn’t even your favorite flower, not even in your favorite color. How could some jackass not bother to learn what your favorite flower and color was. He wanted to tear you away from him.

“Yeah, enjoy yourself man. Thanks again for warming her up for me.” Charlie said to Mattheo, pulling you away from where you were originally dancing. You let him guide you away, but couldn’t help looking back, seeing that Mattheo was already facing his back towards you both. You looked down as his fists were clenched, knuckles turning white. You couldn’t help but feel guilt. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Charlie was just like a prince, he was actually really sweet and thoughtful past the lateness. Plus, his excuse made you think that he was loyal to those he cares about, to tend to their needs first than his. You both had danced to a couple of songs (thanks to Mattheo for teaching you). It was fun. Whenever Charlie spun you around or hugged you close to him, you couldn't help but look around for Mattheo subtly. You saw him enjoying himself, he was talking to a couple of girls.

In reality Mattheo’s eyes scanned the room for you as well, he would only pretend to focus on the conversation he was having with the girls. Barely making an effort, and yet they were in hysterics laughing. It kind of annoyed him how easy it was. His focus kept drifting to your location. He hated seeing you with Charlie. He hated seeing you in someone else’s arms, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Not yet, at least.

Between songs Charlie would grab a drink, and it was starting to really add up. He began to get sloppy and step on your toes. He’d apologize but do it immediately after. You stopped dancing, telling him that you both should just sit down for a while. So you guided him to an empty couch.

Mattheo watched as you and Charlie made your way to the couch, a mix of relief and frustration coursing through his veins. Finally there was some distance between the two of you, but he didn’t like that your date was making a fool of himself as he kept drinking. He was leaning against a wall, keeping a watchful eye on you from afar. The girls by his side kept rambling and rambling and he was only paying attention to you, scoffing at the state Charlie was in. It was getting ridiculous. The girls rolled their eyes at Mattheo, hating that he wasn’t engaging in the conversation so they left him.

As the night went on, you began to like Charlie less and less. The more his drinking caught up to him, the more he just seemed like an idiot. It was quite the change. The first half of the night with him was great, he was able to hold a solid conversation just like normal. He would ask about you, wanting to learn about what you were into, but now he kept going in circles. He would only talk about himself, it got boring. Fast. 

Charlie’s drunken behavior was becoming more apparent, he was slurring his words and regressing into mindless rambling. Mattheo clenched his jaw as he saw you grow more disinterested in your date by the second. It was clear you were bored and fed up. He was tempted to intervene, to find a way to end this date early. But he also wanted to teach you a lesson. That you were supposed to really be with him, and not some dumbass, especially one who couldn’t handle his alcohol.

You were getting embarrassed, people must have thought it was weird that Mattheo and you arrived at the party together and now you were with other people. You knew this by the curious glances they were making at me. They probably couldn’t help but wonder about the dynamic we held.

A pretty blonde girl went up to Mattheo, blocking his view of you, “Hi..I couldn't help but notice you almost…sulking in this corner…can I ask for a dance?”

He gave her a lazy smirk, looking her up and down before responding, “sure, why not.” He pushed himself off the wall, downing the rest of his drink before offering his hand to the girl.

You continued to sit there bored, your chin resting on your hand. The major downside to people not wearing uniforms was that you didn’t know who belonged to which house. You wished you could just dump him with someone that would know him. 

As you look around you notice Mattheo dancing with a girl, it wasn’t the type of dance he had taught you. It was the kind that would be best suited for our regular ‘trashy’ parties. 

Mattheo’s smirk wavered slightly as the girl pressed herself up against him, grinding against his lap shamelessly as they danced to the music. He chuckled quietly to himself, amused by her boldness. He ran his hands down her sides, fingers lingering on her hips. His gaze wandered over to you, his expression faltering slightly when he noticed how bored and annoyed you appeared to be.

You notice Mattheo make eye contact with you, you give him a friendly wave, watching him handle the girl. You turn away before scowling to yourself.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” Charlie breathed out, his hot breath bitter from the alcohol. He leaned over the couch to put his face between your neck. You shrugged him away uncomfortably. This didn’t stop him though, he gently put a hand on your jaw, making you look at him “pay attention.” It was major deja vu, but with the wrong person. Very wrong person. Charlie leaned in to kiss you, but you quickly stood up leaving the rose he gave you on the seat. He kept leaning to the point he just ended up face planting onto the couch seat.

As Mattheo danced with the girl, he happened to look back up at you, catching it in time when Charlie tried to kiss you. His fingers dug into the girl’s hips as he felt anger and jealousy. The girl let out a small moan. “Ouch Mattheo. Give me a warning next time.” 

The drunken fool didn’t deserve to touch you like that. He stopped letting the girl grind on him for a moment, but then he noticed how you got up not letting him finish that kiss. He laughed to himself. The girl looked behind at him confused, but she turned around to wrap her arms around his neck, rubbing her breasts against his chest now. “Unless you want to take this upstairs?” she said, trying to get his attention again.

You walked over to the refreshment table, not caring one bit about leaving Charlie behind after that stunt. He could fend for himself. Thank God there was still some weed left, thank you Hufflepuffs! You thought, kissing the air. You set down a paper, neatly tucking in the weed, carefully licking it shut. As you did, you watched Mattheo. At least one of us was having a good night.

“Maybe later, sweetheart.” Mattheo said to the girl, he didn’t care for her advances at all, but he just wanted to play along. He responded with a sly smile as she rubbed against him. 

You looked back down at the fairly fat joint you made, you wanted to light it but you felt guilty. You wanted to get high with your best friend. It was so fun last time. You tucked the joint behind your ear, preparing another one for him. We would have to get high on a different day. With the two joints, you moved them into your corset, just on the side of your boob as you had no pocket or bag with you. You looked toward the drink table, considering but being put off with how it made Charlie. You still grabbed a drink just to hold onto and not look awkward. 

Mattheo caught you putting what seemed like joints into your dress, he smiled knowing you were probably thinking about him. His attention was divided between the blonde girl and you. He smirked to himself, seeing your disapproving face when you went to grab a drink. He found your sudden dislike of alcohol funny. 

You stood there with your drink, not taking a sip out of it. You just bumped your head to the music. You noticed Theodore and made your way over to him. “Hey Teddy, I’ve got to give it to you. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. You did great.” 

He smiled at your compliment, he took a sip of his own drink before responding and gesturing around the room that was filled with students dancing, chatting, drinking, and just having fun. “I know, thanks for your help with finishing it. I’m glad everyone is enjoying themselves…” He hesitated a moment, “but you seem a bit…bored. Where’s your date?”

You just pointed behind yourself with your thumb, “ick.”

Theo laughed at your bluntness, looking over at Charlie’s direction. He was still sitting alone on the couch, face in his hands, “dumbass can’t handle his alcohol? And Mattheo?” You pointed in the other direction. He let his smile falter a bit, knowing his friend was just using the girl. “Ah~ so can I have a dance with you then? You look amazing.” He looked you up and down.

You nod, putting your glass down, and taking a step close to Theo. You put your hands on Theo’s shoulders, as he put his on your waist. You swayed to the music as it changed to a slower song. You put your head on his chest as you did with Mattheo. You let out a small sigh that was concealed with the music, you were definitely going to get an earful later. 

You both danced to a couple of songs, before you pulled away from him, “thank you for dancing with me. I think I'm going to retire for the night. My feet are killing me…though I liked dressing up, I’d rather stick to sneakers.” You laugh straightening out Theo’s tie and collar.

“Of course, any time. I’m sorry your date kind of ruined your night, but you really do look gorgeous tonight, cara mia.” He looked down at you, his tone sincere.

Giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek, “goodnight Teddy.” You made your way up the stairs back to the dormitories. As you go up, you look down at the party once more. Charlie was just now sleeping on the couch, you rolled your eyes. Mattheo had his face buried in the blonde girl’s hair. You sighed. Mattheo’s dorm room was closer to the stairs so you made your way over to his room, your pajamas were still in there. With your luck he had not locked his door. 

 °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂ִ °. •̩̩͙ ִ * ° ໋•̩̩͙ ִ 𓈒ּ ° 𓂂

Mattheo kept his eyes trained on you as you went into his room, he couldn’t help but feel a little excited at the thought. It sent a thrill through him. His mind started to wonder, why you decided to go in there instead of your room. 

When you stepped in his room, you breathed in deeply. It had such an intoxicating scent. Sometimes you went nose blind to Mattheo’s smell, but being in his room where it was the most concentrated almost made your brain fuzz. You went into his bathroom, looked at yourself in the mirror, man what a wasted outfit.

He couldn’t wait any longer, the thought of you inside there by yourself was driving him crazy. He pushed the blonde girl to the side, mumbling an excuse about needing some air. He made his way towards the stairs, shoving people to the side, determined to get to his room as quickly as possible. As he entered inside, he noticed the bathroom light on, the door cracked open.

Bending down to pick up your pajamas that you left on the floor. You debated on changing out of your dress, but knew just how long it would take if you were to do it by yourself. You would need to wait for Mattheo, but you also didn’t want to be in his room if he decided to bring that girl up here for the night. You notice one of his shirts on the floor too, you picked it up. You wanted to smell it. Fucking weirdo, don’t do it. Do it. Don’t do -

Mattheo pushed open the door quietly, peering inside to see you holding one of his shirts in your hands. You jumped at the sound, “oh my god, shit!” You dropped the shirt back on the floor along with your pajamas.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with a smirk, “you didn’t expect me to find you in my dorm, love?” He laughed sarcastically.

You peaked behind him trying to see if he brought the girl over after all, “no I didn’t..I thought you were still going to be downstairs. I was just getting my pajamas and shoes.”

The smirk on his face widened as he noticed you peering behind him, he laughed and shook his head, “I got tired of dancing with her. She’s a little too clingy for my taste.”

“Yeah? Well at least you didn’t have to endure a drunk.” You go to pick your pajamas again. You make your way to his desk to take off your heels. His eyes looked at your legs. There was a pause between you two. “Go on Mattheo, rub it in my face.” You huffed, rubbing your feet, closing your eyes, “let’s get it over with.”

“Oh, princess, if you insist.” He moved closer to you, standing behind you. He leaned down, bringing his face close to your ear, his breath against your neck. “I told you so.”

You kept your eyes shut, clenching them a bit hard. “T-that’s all you got?”

He brushed a strand of your hair from your face, his fingers tracing down the side of your neck. His tone was low and husky as he spoke into your ear “Oh, you know I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Want me to teach you another lesson?”

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, your heart took a leap.

It was now or never for Mattheo. “For not listening to me.” He firmly grabbed your wrist making you stand up from the seat. He instead took you place, he sat down looking at you expectantly as you were now standing by his side.

“Mattheo…what do you mean?” You almost stammered on your own words. 

“It’s a yes or a no, darling. Do you want me to teach you a lesson? I am your tutor after all, right?”

“-and best friend.” You looked at him, still very much confused, but you felt a sense of excitement of the unknown. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbow carefully as you thought it over. Why is he being so…so.. “Yes.” You blurted.

“Good girl, this is the lesson I’m going to teach you. It’s going to be about listening to me, because I know what’s right for you. The first part is having you admit to yourself that I was right and you were wrong. I don't want to have to tell you. You tell me instead…go on.” In a quick motion he brought you down and bent over on his lap. You didn’t have enough time to react to what was going on, but your heart was starting to race. You could feel one of his hands rubbing your ass just above the thin satin fabric of your dress. You turned to look back at him, and he was staring at your ass, but had to quickly meet your eye. “Go on.” He gave your left cheek a rough squeeze.

You closed your eyes, before opening them and answering. “Mattheo you were right. I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” He said, squeezing your ass again, then tracing a single finger along the slit of your dress. Touching the smooth skin of your thigh.

“About my date…I was dumb to think it was going to be an amazing date. But it wasn’t.” You sighed both at the turn of events with Charlie, and because of Mattheo’s touch.

“And I warned you, didn't I? That you could be with someone so much better than him, didn’t I?” He nearly spat out the last words in emphasis. Squeezing your ass harder this time, his nails are able to dig into you through the dress. 

You don’t respond, you’re too focused on his touch. How he was handling you. Your thought process was going in about a thousand different directions right now. When Mattheo didn’t hear you he swiftly pulled your dress over to the side by the slit, exposing your ass to him. You stopped breathing. He sucked in air through his teeth at the sight of your perky round ass in a black little lacey thong. He gave you a sharp smack on your ass, you yelped not expecting it. “I asked you a question, darling.”

“I uh…Yes. Yes Mattheo, you warned me. You did warn me that I could be with someone better.” You whined as he smoothed out the area he just hit.

“Have I ever done wrong by you?” SMACK! He hit the other cheek this time. You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop you from crying out loud, but he quickly pushed it away from your face so you could answer him.

“No..y-you haven’t.”

“Then why didn't you listen to me?” SMACK! You cried out again as he hit you. Again he rubbed it out.

“I- I…don’t-” you began to say - SMACK!

“Does he know the reasons why you cry?”

You opened your mouth to try and respond but was spanked again.

“Does he know what makes you laugh?” 

SMACK! 

Your legs were starting to tremble due to the mix of pain…pleasure…the excitement of it all. It was so confusing. Well it wasn’t confusing to see Mattheo so angry, but towards you it was new. It was turning you on, and you knew he was enjoying himself too. Not only because he did enjoy inflicting pain onto others, but because you were starting to feel him get hard from underneath you. His dick was poking up into your stomach. You were sure the pressure of your weight on him was sending him over the edge. You looked back at him, biting your lip. He just looked down at you, quite darkly. His hand was removed from your ass, leaving it red and hot. Surely there was bruising and welts from his work. 

Mattheo’s lips twisted upwards in a smile. Then pulled your hair back, twisting it around his hand. This causes you to strain your head backwards. He bent down to whisper against your neck, kissing it. “I can promise you this, no one is ever going to make you feel the same as I will. I’ll do anything for you.”

You nod, your eyes going wide at his confession. You were about to respond to him but once again you were silenced when he let go of your hair, and pushed your head back down. His hands went over your sore ass and and he hooked his fingers around your panties, shimmying them down your thighs and off of you. He stealthily stored them in his pants pocket. 

You felt a cool breeze as you were exposed to him now. Especially because of your growing wetness, which Mattheo could now see. “M-Mattheo… can I please speak now?”

He shook his head, “Not now, darling.” He leaned to the side, putting one hand on each ass cheek. His gaze quickly looked over at you, your head was still hanging down. He returned to what he was doing, and he slowly spread your ass, showing himself your pussy. He groaned at the sight. He smirked, liking that you were enjoying this treatment. “Fuck, baby. It’s so pretty.”

You couldn’t help yourself, but at his words you arched your back to further show yourself to him. You felt your face get hot, this was Mattheo. Once a stranger. Once your tutor. Now your best friend. The guy you’ve developed a massive crush on. He chuckled at your action, he was so tempted to break the promise you had in regards to him trying to read your mind. He wanted to know what you were thinking of all this.

“I promise you won’t need him after this, ever. You will never think about him ever again. Only me.”

Mattheo crept his fingers closer to your heat, so he could spread it further. You scrunch your eyes closed as he was getting closer to where you wanted to be touched. God you wanted to be handled like this by Mattheo for so long. So many nights you had spent alone in your dorm touching yourself and imagining it was him. You wondered if he ever had those moments (he definitely did). You were snapped out of that thought when you heard him spit onto your cunt, you felt it tickle into your hole. 

“Go on, say my name, Doll. I want to hear my name coming from your lips.”

“Mattheo..” You breathed out shakily. “Shit mattheo… please touch me.”

SMACK! That was all your plea earned you, another slap on your ass, “You don't get to order me around…but alas I was going to regardless. You’re so impatient.” He ran two fingers along your wet folds, smirking at the idea that his spit was just sitting inside of you currently. 

“M-m-matty.” you moaned out. He was a sucker whenever you called him that, so he dipped a finger into your core. You moaned out again, especially when he began to probe around feeling your gummy ribbed walls. You reflexively clenched around his finger. He breathed out, imagining how it must feel around his cock. He curled his finger inside of you. “More-more please.” 

He sighed, with his free hand he grabbed your hair in his fist, “stop telling me what to do.” Once again, despite his words he still gave you what you wanted. He pulled out his first finger, just to shove two back in afterwards. 

“Oh my god.” You moaned out. He smiled, moving his fingers deeper inside you. Your precious little cunt was making unholy sounds from how wet you were. Mattheo loved the sound of it, he could tell that his dick was just leaking with precum. He didn’t know how much longer he could take. 

Mattheo was just being relentless with his pace, fingering you. He tried holding you down by leaning on you with his body weight, but you were wiggling too much from pleasure. You felt like you were about to cum. But he would sometimes take his fingers out just to spread the wetness around your lips, massaging it in before continuing. It was driving you absolutely nuts. Eventually you were able to reach your high, cumming down his fingers. He sighed, just as satisfied with the sight of your slightly creamy cum that was now going down your thighs when he pulled his fingers out of you.

“Princess…I really like you, you know? Like really like you. I’m not just saying this…for what we’re doing.. And sorry for a lack of better words..I can’t- I can’t think straight right now. I just want to bury my dick deep inside your pussy.”

“Don’t worry…Matty..” You tried to catch your breath, trying to bring your heart rate down. Mattheo helped you turn around and sit on his lap, making you straddle him. You looked down to his lips, smashing them with yours. The kiss was hungry. Each of you kept biting the other. Mattheo with his clean hand turned your head to the side, kissing and biting down your neck. “I like you too…I have for a while now.. I just..I didn’t think you felt the same.”

Mattheo looked up at you, as you admitted back to him. He was relieved you felt the same. He smiled sweetly at you, your usual best friend peeking out for a moment. He hated that he kept you waiting for so long as he sorted through his own feelings for you, and it only took some jackass taking you out as a date for him to learn this. Just as you had been, he was ripped out of that thought when he saw that you took the hand that he used to finger you, putting the two fingers inside your mouth. Cleaning yourself from him. 

“Oh fuck, darling.” his jaw hung low, groaning with the sight. His eyes glued to where the two digits were disappearing between your lips. He took another sharp inhale, unable to tear his gaze away. He pulled them out of your mouth, leaving a trail of spit to fall onto your chin. He tried to regain his authority, he cleared his throat, “W-What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Can I please suck your cock?” You smiled sweetly at him again, batting your eyelashes. 

He breathed out, his voice low and almost hoarse as he spoke, his words coming out in short bursts “n-no princess. I’m trying to teach you a lesson. You’re supposed to be good and pay attention to what I'm doing.”

“Okay Mattheo…sure.” You agreed to play along. He put his arms around you, lifting you up easily. He got out of the seat and walked over to his bed, setting you down in front of it. He turned you around so your back was towards him and he pushed you down onto the bed. Keeping your head flat against his comforter with one hand. You inhaled, taking in his scent from his sheets. You let out a small moan.

He knew what you were doing, “for your information…I knew you wanted to sniff my dirty shirt that I left in my bathroom. You freak.” He brought up how he caught you when he returned back to his dorm after the party. He couldn’t resist a little banter despite how heated things were getting between you and him. 

“Shaddup!” You said muffled from your head being pinned down. You felt him move your dress to the side, tucking it under your hip, making sure it was out of the way, “do you want to help me remove this…?”

He smiled at you again, shaking his head, “no..I actually want to fuck you in your dress. You look too beautiful in it to let it go to waste. A real princess.” You couldn't help but love the sweetness in that. He momentarily let go of your head, so he could unzip his pants and pull it down. He also took off his dress shirt, exposing his toned torso and abs. He used his knee to open your legs apart further, he pumped himself a few times, needing to feel some relief already. “Spread yourself to me.” He commanded bringing your hands to your ass. You did what you were told, you arched your back again, spreading your pussy for him. You felt Mattheo rub the tip of his dick around your wet entrance, then rubbing it around your clit before using his full length to use your wetness to lubricate himself. 

You wanted to turn around to look at it, you wanted to see if you could take him. You always wondered what he was packing. You wanted to know how long it was, how thick it was, what color it was, how it would feel inside of you. You were feeling a slight headache, then the realization hit you. You were going to stand straight up when he pushed you down again, “Mattheo!”

 “Okay okay..i’m sorry. I know I promised, but I wanted to know what you were thinking.” He said not so guilty. “Buuuuut know that I know.. I want you to see me fucking you. I need to see your pretty face-” He turned you around, lifting you so that you were now sitting forward, facing him on the side of the bed. He was smirking when he brought over a pillow to put just underneath the small of your back. He pulled you by your waist so your ass was barely hanging out of the edge, it was a perfect height to his hips, “-I need to see how you look when you take me.” He pulled your legs so that they were resting on his shoulders. 

Fuuuuck. You thought as you looked down at his twitching dick. He was so big and girthy. His cock slightly tanner than the rest of him, his tip as pink as his lips. God the lips you stared at all the time, day to day. You felt nervous, he would definitely be the biggest you’ve taken. You felt a ringing in your ear again. You rolled your eyes, knowing he was reading your mind again.

“I know you can take me, sweetheart. You’ve done everything I’ve taught you so well.” Mattheo stroked the side of your face gently, with warm eyes. You couldn’t fathom the duality of this man. He was doing this while his other hand was adjusting his dick to your entrance, carefully dipping the tip into you. 

You looked down away from his face to watch him enter you. “Please take it slow…I’m-”

“There’s no reason to be scared, of course I will take it slow.” He said this, but hated it. He just wanted to fuck you senseless. He looked away from your face, looking at your pussy. He tried pushing himself in slowly, but you were not letting him in. “You're so tense, please relax for me.” He moved over to suck on his thumb before moving it to your clit and rubbing slow lazy circles, earning him a moan from you. He smiled, continuing his work. He wasn’t even trying his best and you were already shaking again.

“Matty… I think..I think-”

“Oh no you’re not.” He stopped just as you were about to come to your next high. “Next time you cum, it’ll have to be on my dick.” 

You whined and wiggled against him. He took this opportunity and really pushed himself, leaning down into you. You held him by his shoulders, biting him on his bicep. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer into you. All you felt was pain at first, and he wasn’t even moving yet too. You said a silent prayer to yourself.

“Shit. You’re so tight. When was the last time you were fucked…? Actually please don’t tell me I don't want to think about another person doing this to you.” He said one hand on your waist, the other on your hip, pulling you closer so he could really be balls deep into you. He tried not to get angry at the thought. “It feels so good, damn. So warm. Baby, can I start moving?”

You felt so full. So very full with him all the way inside you. You felt his cock twitch impatiently just as you had been earlier, maybe more. You felt bad for Mattheo, you also wanted him to feel good, but it was almost unbearable. You nod, “you can Matty.”

His eyes snapped up at yours. He didn’t like your uncertainty, but he really needed to feel relief. He almost felt sorry for you, but he was way too horny to fully care and to just pull out to make you suck him off. “I’m sorry Princess…I’ve been wanting and needing you like this so fucking bad.” He began to pull his hips back little by little, going in and out of you. He sighed, moving your legs back up on his shoulders, he kissed your leg.

“No, dont app-” You gasped when he slapped his hips against you, “-ologize. I-I want to make you feel good too. I want you to use me…” He smiled at your words, despite your not so hidden worries. You were a fool for him, and he loved it. He loved it because he was a fool for you too.

While you loved watching him fuck you, loved hearing his grunts and sighs. It was still so much for you. You turn your face away from him, biting on your finger. The other hand, covering your face. When you were just focusing on just the physical, not the visual it helped relax you. The pain began to disappear, especially once you started to get used to his size and the pace. Mattheo was definitely stretching you out. You whimper at the thought, at the pleasure that was starting to hit you like a pulsing wave.

“W-why are you hiding your face?” He grunts, slowing his movement, “Don’t hide it, I want to see your expression.” He pulls your hand away from you. His eyes widened when he saw your cheeks were stained by your tears. He completely stops, midway pulling out. “Princess, are you alright? Am I hurting you?! Oh my god you should have told me if I was-”

“No please- please don't stop. It just feels that good.” You reassure him by pulling yourself forward so that his cock would reenter you. You went back to biting your finger to hold back your cry.

Mattheo smiles at you, a sense of relief rushing through him. His smile turns into a smug look. “You’re still so pretty when you cry. You scared me.” He leaned back down, licking the tears off your cheeks, not minding the salty taste one bit. He moved to suck on your neck, he pulled your other hand down that you were biting on. “You sound so beautiful too, especially when your cries are just for me. Don't hold them back. I want to hear how you feel about me, how I'm making you feel..”

“Matty, please just keep fucking me.” You moan out, moving your hips against him.

“As you wish, just don't tell me off later if you can’t walk. You asked for this.” His smirk and cockiness returned. He pulled your legs forward so that they were being pressed up against your chest, really exposing your pussy to him. He didn’t hold back anymore. 

“Yes mattheo, I’ll tell you again that you were right. That you’re always right. I will always listen to you.” You moan out, knowing he loves the sense of control. You arched your back off the bed, so he would keep hitting your sweet spot directly. You felt your eyes lul back. You tried to keep your eyes open to watch him slamming his dick into your sweet sopping wet cunt. Each time he pulled out of you, his own member glistened.

“That’s my fucking girl. You’re taking me so well.” He spread your legs away from your chest so he could lean back into you once more, he kissed your forehead. “Oh this - s is this is so frea k…freaking ba-bad” He began to get sloppy with his movements. He wrapped both of his hands around your throat, to choke you and also to steady himself. 

“You’re cock feels so good inside me Matty, so good. It feels so euphoric, it’s so filling.” You choked out through his grip around your neck. You saw him look down at your pussy again. He let go one hand and pressed down just under your belly button. “Fucking shit Ma-Mah-Mattheo.”

When he did this, he saw the way your own pussy was gripping onto him, he smiled at the sight. “You’re being so greedy now aren’t you? You just can't enough huh? You like me treating you like this, you’re so dirty.”

You keep moaning his name, not being about to think about anything but how he was fucking you so well. Just as you had always imagined and wanted. You were just so focused on the pressure he was creating in your belly, the all too familiar twisting and knotting as you felt getting closer.

“Shiiiit~ your pussy is suffocating my dick darlin’. Are you about to come around me? Am I making you feel that amazing? Please don't hold back now, I'm all for it.” He moved his hand back to paying attention to your clit, but he paused before continuing his motion much more slowly. “Are..are you on any birth control?”

“What?” You were kind of dumbfounded, he asks this now? He just stares back expectantly. “Yeah I am..” You kind of gave him an attitude because he was denying your next orgasm with this sudden questioning. 

He squinted a bit, “why?”

“Matt- what? Just what? My periods hurt like hell and this is what helps me dur-” 

“Can I creampie you then?” He nonchalantly says interrupting you, returning his attention back to your clit, smiling.

You throw your head back, you were slowly but surely returning to the state you were in before he suddenly stopped. 

“I asked you a question… Please don't make me ask again..” He said, closing his eyes, needing to know your answer before he thrusted faster. He needed to know what to do now that he was getting close. God he hoped you would say yes. Mattheo wanted to see your little cunt filled up with his cum. He wanted to see it drip out of you..He looked at you realizing you had been shaking from sheer pleasure. The reason why you weren’t answering him was because you had came around him without him fully realizing it while in his own thoughts. 

“Mattheo..” 

He looked at you quite lovingly, tucking your hair back into place, “I’m right here.” He gently taps on your cheek, trying to pull you from your trance, “I’m right here, open your eyes. Look at me.” You open your eyes slowly to him, giving him a fucked out smile. He smiled back at you, “that’s my girl.”

“...yes fill me up with your cum. It’ll be an honor.” 

With that he did not need to be told twice, his smile widened. He kissed you on the lips before ramming himself back into you. He still didn’t give up on the attention he was giving your clit. It was starting to ache by how overstimulated you were. It was so red and swollen. There was no way in hell you were going to tell him to stop. He was just using you like a toy at this point, and you were loving it. He had your legs pressed together and to your chest again, you were hugging them for dear life. You kept calling his name, begging him to fill you. “Princess, I love you so much..I lovee - I love yo u.” He stammered out “I love you..m-more than anyone i n my l-life.” He shook, and stayed still a moment as he came.

“I love you too.” You said, a little sadly as he pulled out of you. He gave you another kiss on the lips, before just peppering your face with kisses.

“You’ve always been mine, you know that right?”

“Mhmm” You close your eyes. 

He sighs contently, kneeling a bit. He watched as his cum started to be squeezed out of you. He thought he would love it, but he just wanted it to stay inside of you. He brought his two fingers to your hole, scooping up the cum that escaped and pressing it back into you. He curled his fingers once more, starting to pump in and out carefully. You moaned out, grabbing his wrist. You opened your eyes and he was already looking into yours. He smiled his devilish smile. Oh fuck…

“Yeah, I'm not done with you just yet, princess.”

With that it was like he was trying making up for lost time with you.~