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sissylittlefeather · 3 days ago

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Kink Madness: Round 6

Marking vs Size Kink

Also known as Walter vs Walter. We're back to the Power Division for this round and it's a good one. The first one is Walter Hale from The Trouble with Girls and the second one is Walter Gulick (part 3! Find parts 1 and 2 here) from Kid Galahad. Enjoy! Don't forget to vote and reblog!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut obviously, there's some biting/giving of hickeys, and reader is pregnant in one.

Marking: Walter Hale

You've been with the Chautauqua (and Walter) for almost a year now. He picked you up in a small town in Ohio when you helped him organize a local substitute act for his show. The way you handled everything with grace and a little too much charm caught his attention and he hasn't looked away since.

Not until today, that is. There's a new dancer in the vaudeville act and she's too pretty to be safe. You watch as he compliments her legs and thanks her for bringing in customers. He's genuinely just thrilled to be making money, but in your head and your heart, you can't imagine he's not going to leave you for her. At first, there's a pang of sadness at the thought of losing him, but that pang catches fire and becomes a smoldering pit of anger pretty quickly. How dare he?

So what do you do? You find the group of college boys and lay it on thick, just close enough to him that you know he can see you. They're bewildered, turned on, and more than a little terrified that the boss man’s girl is flirting with them, but they soak up your energy like little sex-deprived sponges.

“So which one of you is the best kisser?” You giggle and bat your lashes and they trip over themselves to answer you. Yale is the loudest.

“Now honey, how would we know that?” Walter’s eyes narrow as you giggle and stroke the young man’s arm. Rutgers speaks up.

“Yeah, sweetheart. We don't exactly kiss each other!” He laughs a little too loud.

“Awww you're tellin' me you've never had a girl kiss all of you?” You bite your bottom lip and Walter's teeth clench around his cigar. The boys all laugh nervously and shake their heads. Now it's Princeton's turn.

“You volunteering, baby?” He licks his lips as you blush and boldly reaches up to tuck some of your bobbed hair behind your ear. That's when Walter materializes over your shoulder.

“You enjoyin’ yourselves, fellas?” Their eyes go wide and they stutter anxiously, trying to assure him they weren't doing anything inappropriate. But you're not ready to give in, so you double down. You turn and look him dead in the eyes and giggle.

“We were just debating who was the best kisser among them.” His lips curl into a dangerous smirk.

“So I heard. Did you figure it out?” All four of the guys shake their heads wildly. Amherst manages to respond.

“N-no sir! We were just talking. Just talking. That's all.” Walter doesn't take his eyes off of you.

“Why don't you boys go find something else to do?” They scatter like roaches, leaving you there alone with him. “What are you up to, kitten?”

You turn to him lazy and slow, your eyes meeting his. “Oh, I don't know. How's the new dancer?”

He growls low in his throat. “She's a real moneymaker. Is that what this is about?”

“You sure seem to like her.”

“You sure seem to like the college boys.” There's a couple of moments where you just stare at each other before he grabs your arm, not hard enough to hurt but strong enough to let you know he's in charge. “I think you need to remember whose you are.”

He pulls you towards his tent and you follow along without a fight. This is the first time you've really challenged him and you're not sure how he might respond. He pushes you in in front of him and then closes the tent behind himself.

“Walter, I–”

“No, kitten. You don't need to speak.” He brushes your bottom lip with his thumb. His hands travel lower and he undresses you, not unkindly, but also with an authority that you don't contradict. When he's got you naked, he sets you on the desk in front of him, still fully dressed in his white suit. He leans in and kisses you hard and deep, pulling back only after he knows he's wrecked you. “You know you're mine. And I'm yours.”

You open your mouth to speak and he puts his finger on your lips again. Then he leans forward and sucks on a place on your collarbone. You moan softly as he works, obviously trying to leave a mark. When he pulls back, he admires the purple bruise.

“Think I'm gonna mark you up good, kitten. Remind you who you belong to. What do you think of that?”

“I–”

“That's what I thought.” His hand on your lower back causes your body to arch as he sinks his teeth into the flesh under your breast.

“Oh! Walter!” He licks the spot gingerly, satisfied with his handiwork.

“Lay back, kitten. Let daddy work.” You obey, laying back on the desk as he moves down your body, sucking and nipping as he pleases. He bites your inner thigh hard and you whimper and moan.

“Daddy, please…”

“Hush, kitten.” He moves to the other side and sucks on the spot hard enough to leave another bruise. “I want you to look in the mirror and know this body belongs to me. Just like I belong to you.”

“Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good girl. Now get on your knees.” You scramble off the table and into position in front of him. He unzips his white pants and frees his aching cock, one hand under your chin and the other holding himself as he lays the tip against your bottom lip. “Open up.”

You do as you're told and he pushes the head of his dick into your mouth. He moans low and deep as you take him into your throat, pressing your nose into the patch of hair at the base of him. “Good girl. That's my kitten.”

He groans, taking a fistful of your hair as he thrusts slowly into your mouth. You moan around him, you center dripping wet as you suck him off.

“That's it, kitten. Who do you belong to?” He pulls his cock out to let you answer.

“You, daddy.”

“That's right.” He caresses your chin and then moves his thumb up to your cheek as he pushes into your mouth again. “So good, kitten.”

You lick and suck him deeply, bouncing on him as he moves his hips slowly against you. He groans and then pulls out of you, standing you up and turning you to bend over the desk. You feel him tease your entrance and whimper.

“So wet for me, kitten. Those other boys make you wet like this?”

“N-no. Just you, daddy.”

“That's what I thought.” He wraps his hands around your hips and pushes into you from behind. “You take me so well, kitten.”

You moan and push back against him. He holds you still, his fingers grasping you in a bruising grip. “I'm gonna make sure you remember this. Gonna mark you up good, let you remember that you're mine.”

He pumps into you harder and harder and you're sure you'll have bruises on your hips in the morning. You feel your climax start to close in and moan desperately. “And not just on the outside. I'm gonna fill you with me until it drips down your thighs while you try to work. Whose are ya, kitten?”

“Yours, daddy! Oh!” Your legs shake as your orgasm crashes into you and you cum hard on his dick. He grunts with the sensation of your pussy squeezing him.

“That's right. And I'm yours. All. Yours.” He punctuates each word with a thrust and then slams into you hard, his cock pulsing as he fills you with himself, spilling so deep. He holds you still for a second, before pulling out and standing you up against his chest. You feel his cum start to drip and squeeze your thighs together. “That's it, kitten. Feel that? Are you mine?”

“Y-yes. I'm yours, Walter.” He turns you to face him and grabs your chin.

“You gonna flirt in front of me like that again?”

“No, daddy. Never again.”

“Good girl. Put your dress back on. We have work to do.” You nod and pick your dress up to slide it back over your head. Before you do, though, he brushes his thumb over the marks he's left on your body. “Mine.”

You whimper and slide your dress back on. He helps you straighten and smooth it and then kisses your forehead. “You know I love you, kitten. You're my girl. No vaudeville dancer is gonna take that away from us. You trust me?”

You look up at him for a second and then think of the marks he's left on your body. “Yes, Walter.”

“You love me?” There's a hint of vulnerability in his voice and you realize he's just as scared to lose you as you are to lose him. You take his face in both hands and kiss his nose.

“I love you so much.” His face breaks into a smile. “And if I forget, I've got a dozen marks and you sliding down my thighs to remind me.”

“Good.” He slaps your ass and kisses your neck. “We've got a show to run. Come on, kitten.”

The marks on your body ache a little in the best way possible and you nod.

“Yes sir, boss man.”

“Careful. You keep talkin’ like that and I'll start all over again.”

“You promise?” He chuckles.

“You bet, kitten. Any time.”

******

Size Kink: Walter Gulick

You've only been married six months and you're already pregnant. It didn't take Walter long to fill you up good at just the right time. He'd been dying to do it since the first time you were together anyway. And now you're here, trying desperately to find a pair of pants you can zip or a dress that doesn't show your growing bump.

You're standing in front of the mirror about to cry when Walter comes in from his job at the garage.

“Baby, what’re you doin’? You okay?”

“No! I'm huge. None of my clothes fit. And I hate it.” You try to pull your pants closed again to demonstrate what you're saying and then sigh deeply, your throat thick with tears.

“Ya look good to me, babe. I like you rounded out a little. It's sexy.” He walks up behind you and runs his giant hands over your belly and you cringe.

“I was so tiny when we got together. I feel like a whale.”

“Honey, you're still tiny.”

“No I’m not.” You look down at the floor and try not to cry.

“Yeah y’are. You need me ta prove it?”

“How you gonna do that?” He leans in to whisper in your ear, like he can't stand for anyone to hear what he's about to say.

“With this big cock.” A shiver runs over your body from head to toe. You lean your head back against his chest and he knows you're saying yes. “Lemme show ya.”

In a second, he has your bra, pants, and panties off and his finger on your clit. You moan softly as his other hand finds your breast and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Look at how big my hand is on ya, baby.” He looks at you in the mirror and your eyes drift to where he's touching you. You really do look small with his hands covering you. “Don't even need clothes. I can cover all of ya with just my hands.”

And then he does, with one hand hiding your pussy and the other arm across your breasts. You gasp a little and he grunts. “My tiny little thing.”

He pulls back just long enough to get himself naked behind you, dwarfing you where he stands with your head leaned back on his chest. You can feel his massive cock where it presses against your ass and lower back. “Put your hands on the mirror and watch, baby.”

You do as you're told, leaning forward to take hold of the framed glass, and then look down between your legs. His dick is enormous where you can see it through your thighs. He teases your entrance with the head of it, his knees bent. “Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Make you see how tiny you are with this cock inside you.”

“Walter!” You moan and blush. He's never talked this dirty before and it's got you dripping in anticipation. You whimper as he starts to push into you, spreading your legs to try to give him more room.

“See, honey? Your little pussy can barely take me. Look.” You watch in the mirror as his cock stretches you slowly. Even after almost two years of fucking him, it still takes a while for him to fit inside you all the way. He gets within an inch and moans loudly. “So tight and tiny, baby.”

“I don't know if I can– OH GOD.” He snaps his hips and rams the last inch of himself up inside you and you almost collapse against the mirror.

“Did I hurt ya?” You look at him over your shoulder in the glass and his eyebrows are pulled together in concern.

“Fuck, no. Walter. Jesus. You're so big.”

“Am I big or are you small?” He leans in to kiss the back of your neck and your shoulder, pulling out and then filling you again in once smooth motion.

“I'm not sure, but goddamn it feels good.” You moan and arch your back as he starts to slide in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“You're small, baby. Just a tiny li’l thing. Taking this cock so well.”

“Fuck.” He smiles and blushes behind you in the mirror. You can tell he's outside his comfort zone talking like this, but some part of him is really enjoying it. His hands hold your hips in a bruising grip as he pumps into you from behind. You watch in the mirror as he moves in and out of you.

“See? I told ya. You're so pretty like this, honey. Round with my baby and still so small. You like it baby?”

“Y-yes… I love it… it's so good.” He continues to drive into you from behind, using his hands to pull you back onto his dick, your eyes almost crossing from the sensation of being stretched so well.

“And you see that you're so little?” You can tell by how his voice deepens that he's getting closer to his climax. Your orgasm is gathering in your hips too and you can barely respond.

“Yes… so… fuck… tiny…”

“Good. Now cum for me baby. Cum on this dick.”

“W-Walter! Ohhhhh!” You groan and squirm as your release blazes through you like an electric current.

“Good girl. Now it's my… turn… fuck.” You gasp and look at him in the mirror. He's never cussed before. But you don't have long to ponder it as he slams into you and pumps his seed into you. You feel him twitch as he does and then his breathing slows and he pulls you back against his chest. “Tiny li’l thing. Mine.”

You giggle a little and reach back to run your fingers in his hair.

“Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

“Still me, baby. Just wanted you to know how bad I want you. How much I love you. Was that okay?” You giggle again.

“Walter, that was better than okay.”

“Good. Now will you believe me when I say you're tiny? And no matter how big you get, you'll always be small to me.” He wraps his arms around you and presses his lips to your neck.

“Yes, baby. I believe you. And I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. My tiny little thing.”

“Yours, Walter. Always, always yours.”

******

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simmireen · 3 days ago

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Head over heels

The taxi pulled over at my apartment complex. It was just a five minute drive so in the presence of the driver we were quiet. We were hand in hand, me playing lovingly with her fingers. I really wanted to know what she thought of the evening. For me these nights are part of the job, but for her, it's an entire experience, I know. All the people, the photographers, the glam, everything is bigger than she ever could imagine. And then this was a smaller premiere even.

Even while walking to my apartment door, which I held open for her, she was quiet. She seemed overwhelmed, but in a good way. Taking in all the buzz that happened around her those hours before. And she did amazing, even though I held her close to me all evening, because I know this all is overwhelming to her. Without taking her coat off she walks over to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I walk over to her, "My lovely lovely lady. Can I take your coat?". She chuckles and helps me take it off. I walk off to hang it onto a chair at the diner table and walk back. She takes a sip of her water and I wrap my arms around her. Her arousing scent filling my nose. Her naked shoulders are now showing and I am in need to kiss them, so I give in. She looked so beautiful all night and I had difficulties keeping myself sane, because she had this tendency to touch me a lot.

"And.. What did you think about tonight?", I ask between the kisses. I kiss her close to her neck and I feel her body answering me with a little shiver. She smiles, "A lot of people, but definitely amazing". It stays quiet for a minute, while I'm still gently kissing the silky skin on her shoulders. She takes it in, how I took in her strokes all night- Oh I did take them in, but I had to stay professional, so I couldn't do much more than just holding her close and tight to me and enjoy her touching in silence. Which was hard, but I am so proud that I could finally show my little world this woman is with me.

"This is your life, already for ... how long?" She asks while I move my hand subtly up from her waist. I really have to restrain myself from making some moves since her body replies to my hands embracing her sides with another soft shiver. While I subtly stroke the side of her breast, I give her another soft kiss on her shoulder and answer her question, ‘Mmm, twenty-five years’.

It really has been almost twenty-five years. At the end of the year I would be a producer for all those years, of course before becoming a producer, I did several things in the industry. I almost can’t imagine doing something else, but at the same time I know I will be doing something different in the near future, since I still have that job offer in San Myshuno. I basically said I would do it, if I could find an apartment first. I know it’s going to be a big change, but I also know it’s so worth it. As if Minnie could hear my thoughts, she tells me she agrees with Geoffrey. She met my direct boss, Geoffrey Landgraab today. I have worked with him for about twenty years. I think through the years we became, well I don’t think I can call it friends, but good acquaintances in and outside our workfield. Tonight Geoffrey came to introduce himself to Minnie with the statement she would steal me away from him. Of course he said that as a joke, but I also know how Minnie blames herself for me making this decision of moving away from Del Sol Valley for, well, her. “You really shouldn’t give that up Jim”, she says softly. I move in a little closer while I still am taking in her soft skin. She means the fact I have this lifestyle we both encountered tonight. The luxury, the glam, the fame around me. I’m used to that life. I sometimes even choose not to go to the smaller premieres, because they bore me, but sometimes you have to go, to show yourself to the directors and actors you work together with.

She leans on the counter with one hand while her other hand is touching my hand resting on her waist. I’m still on and off kissing her sensually on her neck and shoulders, her lovely flowery sweet scent that always turns me on reaches deep, while her body still heavily responds to my touches too. I love worshipping her, caressing every inch of her soft skin. I gently move my hands up to cup her breasts -God, that’s such a manly thing to do- but I can’t help it, but clearly she doesn’t mind, because she starts leaning forward with two hands on the counter so her ass stroke my intimate area which makes my pants become a little tight. “After all that time, these parties become very monotonous. Definitely if you are always the one who comes alone.”, I answer absentmindedly. It is true, being alone at an event like tonight is kinda lonely. So the fact I could finally bring her, but also the fact she stayed close to me all night instead of taking a distance, which she normally does when we are in public, means so much to me. She becomes more confident next to me, and I want her to know. I find her ear and whisper, “So, sharing this with a gorgeous lady that stands next to me, that I want to show off to everyone, looks way too sexy and arouses me with every touch she made tonight, makes my choice so much easier”. I want her, I only want her. This job has become meaningless for me since she is in my life, which is a miracle, not even a year ago this job meant everything to me. She does things to me, I’m head over heels, but physically she lets me burn inside. She drives me crazy, gives me the worst primal needs, like grabbing both of her boobs just now, that’s so not like the man I want to be. I blame the ‘staying professional’ rule I gave myself tonight. Right now, I don’t have to restrain myself any longer, I slowly move my hand down. She leans forward a little more on the counter and gasps when I reach her inner thigh. Her breathing quickens while I am still playfully moving my fingers around that thigh area.

Fairly sudden she turns around and pants while she says my name. The first thought that comes up is that I went too fast, did something she wasn’t ready for, “Sorry, I let myself go for a minute-” but she interrupts me with a hard no. “Don’t apologize”. Her breathing stabilizes a little again and she says my name again, “Jim, you are everything a woman wants. You are a real gentleman, you put me on a pedestal. You are so very passionate about the things you love.” Oh, she is right, I’m very passionate about her, I want to answer, but she doesn’t let me, she looks away. “And you are so.. so very attractive”, she sighs, leaving out a heavy breath after saying that compliment. I’m flattered, I’m silenced. I know she isn’t that outspoken about what she feels for me. A few butterflies wake up in my stomach and flutter around. “And above all, you have the lifestyle everyone dreams about. You really shouldn’t give that up. Not for me”, she continues. And there it is, her insecure inner thoughts about the thought that she doesn’t deserve me, that she doesn’t deserve my love, love in general. Is that what I like about her so much? The fact I want to make her happy, the fact I can be the one who makes her happy? She is the very reason I want to give it all up. I want to make her happy. That lifestyle? - I don’t give a fuck about it anymore. Yeah it’s nice to be able to buy a nice car and a good suit, but I’d rather buy ten pairs of heels for her, “but what if I’m tired of that lifestyle, and am willing to give that all up for something I am way more passionate about?” I answer. Now she is silenced. I still hold her tight, because when she turned around facing me, I didn’t give her much space. When I’m explaining her the rest of why this glamorous world is as fake as it is, I see her thoughts racing. Her mind is finding reasons again why she doesn’t deserve me. I see her slipping away, so I find her back with my hand and pull her closer to me. She looks at me with her big brown eyes, only now scared, silenced. Her hand caresses my face and there it is, “What if, eventually, the light you see in me… dims?”, she whispers softly and looks away. I understand that question, it comes from deep within and answers why she is this broken beautiful fragile woman. She is afraid I will leave her, what her ex-husband did, and he did it without any warning. This hits me deep also, because in some way I was a man like that. Only I never left anyone, but it was my fault my marriage collapsed. Because yes, the brighter light I followed was my work and now I am leaving my work for this mesmerizing woman. Am I that simple? Clearly I am. Besides, I also learned a lot about myself these last years and ending up alone is something I secretly am a little scared of.

“I don’t think it will”, I answer her in all honesty. It’s not the straight up answer she is looking for, but I stay calm, because she isn’t. “You don’t know”, she replies as if she can hear my thoughts. “Nope, that’s very true. We never know.” She stares at me again with her big beautiful eyes. “We can’t look into that future Minnie. But for now I am very, very sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If these three months define my life with you, I’m looking forward to the rest”, I reassure her. A deep breath leaves her mouth, into mine. Nothing is a lie about that. These three months are the happiest my life has ever been and she is the reason. “Let’s look at it day by day”. With every word I say, I see her giving in to my reassurance, so I decide to continue a little more. “Today I fell in love with you even more. I want you, more than ever. This evening you showed me how much you fit into this lifestyle. The confidence you had tonight. How beautiful you look with your outfit and new heels, how kind you are to my colleagues. How sweet, arousing and sexy you are.” I push her gently against the counter and she moves her arm around my neck. She always melts into me if I tell her how much I want her. And I want her, desperately. I know she wants it too, because the tension between us reached a new high. I move my hand to her leg and in an automatic response she lifts it up. I chuckle, “but I’m very selfish by telling you what I want, but way more important is what you want. What do you want my beautiful lady?”. She swallows, looks away and it stays quiet for a few seconds. My eyes still locked on her, she looks back to me and whispers, so almost no one could hear it, “You.”

She sighs.

“I want you. I need you.”

I lean my body closer to her, if that’s even possible, my hands find both of her legs and pull them both up so she gets lifted up the kitchen counter. And I give her the kiss I've wanted to give her since we came home. One where you forget everything around you. Sucked into each other’s presence. Giving into the tension that’s built up all day long. From the moment she walked the red carpet next to me, from the moment we sat together in the dark theatre trying not to touch each other constantly to the moment after the movie when Geoffrey told me the fact she is the lucky one for me. Her way of fiddling with my shirt and suit she did after I confessed that she is indeed the lucky one, made it very clear she didn’t really know what to do with that tension. It all came out now. I couldn’t hold myself any longer. I barely could hold in the impure thought of how much I wanted to pull that jumpsuit off of her and take her right onto my counter, but no. She deserves the pleasure all night long. She is that lucky one, that drives me insane and I never have felt this way about any woman in my life. I love her, I want her and I definitely need her in my life. I stop the kiss to breathe and look into eyes that are full of desire for more. God, I need her. I really really need her. “And you have no idea how much I need you…”

We fall into the passionate kiss again. I gently pull her off the counter and guide her out of my kitchen, along the diner table, to the bedroom door. When we are inside, I close the door and push her gently to the door so she is locked between me and the door. I lift her up against the door, which startles me, but clearly my instincts take over my sanity. Her soft lips on mine, her tongue playing with mine.

I can hold her for a little while, and she helps with locking her legs around my waist, but while kissing, it’s a tough job to do. I haven’t been working out in a while, and that’s what I feel right now. In the little breathing break I decide to kiss her neck again. I have her lifted and pushed against my bedroom door, where she is currently taller than me, so it’s a free play for me. A soft moan of pleasure fills the room.

I decide to make it easier for myself and walk two steps backwards until I hit the edge of my bed and make myself sit with her still on top of me, kissing me passionately. Her on top of me, yes please, this is so very sexy. This Minnie I haven’t seen yet, I know she always holds back in some way and doesn’t show me exactly what she wants. Maybe also my fault because I feel like I’m responsible for pleasing her and taking the lead, but I would die if Minnie would take control sometimes. I open my eyes to take a look at her. Our eyes meet and she stops kissing. Flutters in my stomach. My heart skipping a beat or two. A silence full of feelings. Her hands find the buttons of my shirt and undresses my jacket and shirt. I decide not to do anything, yet, but it’s hard to contain myself. Her warm hands stroke my chest and I softly lean backwards until I feel my pillows and pull her with me. I have her on top of me now, with her head on my chest, but before I could make my next move, she surprises me with kisses on my collarbone. She traces my neck with more kisses, my chest, lowering to my belly until she meets the edge of my pants. I let out a groan because I can’t contain myself much longer. Bewildered, I push myself up and look at her and meet with a set of surprised eyes. Now it’s my turn, I move her to the edge of my bed to find the zipper on the side of her jumpsuit. I undress her- sadly I had to take off her heels. It reveals a lace panties again. Help me. She dressed up entirely, but my impure thoughts tell me to get it all off.. There she is, standing in front of me in all her naked beauty. I undo myself from my shoes and my pants. Including my boxershort. My erection showing proud.

I pull her beautiful naked body onto me again, so I have her on top of me. Skin to skin. She pushes me onto the pillow again and starts giving me a deep kiss again. The weight of her on me is pleasant. With my hands on her hips I control how much she moves, but she still has me in total control. “You really should stop surprising me”. I know Minnie looks very shy and insecure and innocent to the outside world, I know different by now. As long as you give her a warm and trusted safe place where she can be herself, she shows how lustful she is. “What did I do?”, she asks with a little smirk. Oh, she definitely knows what she is doing. “And then she asks me what she does”, I answer playfully. She chuckles.

I find her hands and lock her fingers into mine so I can push her up so she sits on top of me, but I continue to push her onto her back so I am on my knees above her. She should be pleased first. I don’t think with her on top of me, I could have lasted very long. My finger is lovingly stroking the curves of her naked body while she looks at me full of desire. “Can I kiss you?”, I ask. I wish I could make love all night with this woman. Please her multiple times. Kiss her whole body. She nods, she knows I mean something different than kissing her on her lips. I make my way down and pause for kisses on her breasts, her belly and her hips tighten while I move down to the place where I wanna be. I start slow but speed up the pace little by little. Her heavy breathing tells me she likes what I do. It doesn’t take long until she starts moaning softly and I feel her body tightening up. I feel her grabbing the sheets with both of her hands and she lets out a moan I never heard her making before. Can she get even sexier?

I slowly stop what I’m doing while I feel her body go back into relaxed mode. She is breathing heavily still and caresses my head with both of her hands. I move up again hovering over her and stare into the most beautiful face I have seen tonight. “I love you”, she stammers.

“I love you too”, I answer with a huge smile.

She lowers her hands to grab my hips and slowly pulls me back onto her. She is very much not innocent at all tonight, a groan escapes while she folds her legs around me. I know I can handle waiting patiently, but I can’t help craving her even more after the climax I just gave her. I want her. Badly.

She gently pulls my head to her face and gives me an intense kiss. I softly grind my hips against her and she whimpers. I stop and look into two craving eyes. “Can I..?”, I whisper. I always make sure I ask for consent, she knows. She nods slowly, whispers a yes and kisses me again. I tilt my hips and push myself slowly in her.

This feeling, melted together deeply, making love, is the most intense and happy feeling I have ever had. I don’t think I have had this before in my entire life.

Is that what the love of your life is supposed to be?

Then I found her.

Want to know more about these two (mostly in images - see my (way too long story on instagram or discord channel)

#simmireen #simmireenspicytexts #smut #soft smut #i'm sorry not sorry

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lewis-winters · 1 year ago

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we, as a fandom, are honestly missing out on the absolute hilarity and angst potential of putting kitty grogan on the front line with harry welsh.

can you imagine the bickering?

#band of brothers #harry welsh #kitty grogan #ya'll. pls.#my hc of kitty is that she's a grumpy nearly 6 foot woman who is constantly having enough of harry's shit #as i have said before #and i think. i just think. that she would have outranked him.#and i also think!!!! i also think!!!!!!! that he would enjoy her bossing him around #just think about it. please think about it.#oooohhh nathan if you're reading this i am getting. ideas.#bob aus #bob hcs #i've talked about my kitty before just look for her in the kitty grogan tag im too lazy to link

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yuujispinkhair · 2 months ago

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ILLICIT AFFAIRS

You show me colors I can't see with anyone else

You are stuck in an unhappy marriage, not brave enough to leave your cheating husband. Until you meet Sukuna.

Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Word Count: 10k Warnings: 18+, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, but not explicit, cheating (Reader's husband cheats on her, and later on, she cheats on him with Sukuna). Sukuna is a CEO (or can be read as a Yakuza boss, too). Sukuna + Reader are both in their thirties. The fic title is taken from Taylor Swift's "Illicit Affairs", but in this story, the secret affair has a happy ending. This story is super self-indulgent, but I hope some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it, too! Minors don't interact. Divider @./lovwoung

You often ask yourself what went wrong. How did you end up trapped in this unhappy marriage? Maybe you were too young, too inexperienced, too naive when you met your husband. Maybe you were too insecure, convinced no one would ever want you, and so you gratefully settled for the first man who showed interest in dating you.

Your relationship was never like those romances you knew from books or movies, but you assumed that was just how things were in reality. Your mom, your aunt, and everyone else told you how lucky you were to have finally found a man willing to be with you. How lucky to have found someone with a good job and from a good family. They were also the ones who pressured the two of you to get married, and ever since then, things have gone downhill.

Your husband hasn't shown you any love or affection in years. The only time he shows interest in you is when he wants to have sex, but even that is without any real intimacy. He hasn't kissed you in years, and if he did at this point, you would probably be disgusted by it. There is no love in this marriage.

The worst thing is you know he is cheating on you. You already suspected it when he suddenly had to stay at work a lot longer than usual and when he began to hide his phone screen from you. And then one night, you woke up and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and that's when you overheard your husband talking on the phone with some other woman calling her angel and baby and telling her how beautiful she was.

Even though you didn't love him anymore, it still made your world tumble down around you.

You want to leave him, but you can't. Everything is too much, too overwhelming. You have always found it very hard to make decisions, and this one is huge. You have no idea where to go or how to get by on your own. All your savings went into buying this apartment, and now what?

And it's not just the financial aspect that worries you. Everyone has always told you that you would never survive on your own. They always kept you small, turning you into someone who is dependent on others. You got told that you are weird, not good enough, and incapable of ever taking control of your life. And at some point over the years, you started to believe that. Your self-confidence is non-existent.

You tell your mom about the cheating, and she tells you to stay with your husband.

"It's just a little fling. At least you are lucky that he doesn't want to divorce you. It would be such a financial disaster, and you know how you are. You don't do well on your own. Just stay with him and find joy in other things. Maybe pick up a new hobby. I could give you Kira's number. She just joined a nice Yoga class!"

You don't go to the Yoga class, but you also don't leave your husband. You try to pretend everything is fine. Try to gaslight yourself into thinking that maybe you are really just a hysterical, insecure, and overjealous idiot who misinterpreted things.

The months pass, and you catch him flirting on the phone several times. An annual business event is scheduled, which you always accompany him to, but he tells you it got canceled this year. Only to find out from the wife of one of his coworkers that the event took place as usual, but you and your husband simply never showed up. You know why. He didn't want you there. He didn't want to risk his little affair and his wife running into each other.

You've given up on love by now. You hate seeing ads for romance novels or rom-coms. You stop listening to music because most songs are lovesongs. For all you know, romantic love is just a made-up thing that people sing about and write about, but it's all just lies.

Or maybe it does exist in real life. But not for you. Maybe you simply aren't the type of woman who deserves to be loved. Maybe your mom is right, and you should just accept it.

So you stay with your husband, but you are dead inside.

Until you meet Sukuna.

He is everything you ever dreamed about in your secret fantasies that you started to develop to comfort yourself. A dreamed life, but now it's right in front of you, close enough to touch. Sukuna is a real gentleman. An attractive mix of a bad boy and a successful, serious businessman. Smart, confident, and sexy, with a boyish playfulness beneath his professional appearance.

Ironically, you meet him the night you try to save your marriage.

You are already sitting at the table for two you booked for a date in one of the best restaurants in the city. You put on makeup and spend an hour picking a dress in which you feel at least half attractive. And now you sit here, sipping your red wine, waiting for your husband to arrive, to hopefully bond with him again over a delicious dinner and a few hours where you can talk and maybe laugh together.

Only that your husband never shows up. You have already finished your first glass of wine and received several pitiful looks from the waitress when your phone buzzes with a message. It's your husband telling you he can't make it. "Something has come up at work. I don't know when I will be able to leave. Just have dinner without me."

You stare at the message for far too long, not even knowing how to respond. Feeling utterly humiliated, utterly hurt, and abandoned. Worthless. You know he is going to see his girlfriend instead tonight. His girlfriend, who is young and sexy, and can give him what he wants.

And suddenly, you can't hold back the tears anymore. You blink hastily, wiping angrily at your cheeks, trying everything not to ruin your makeup or have a breakdown in the middle of the crowded restaurant. But the waitress chooses that exact moment to walk up to you with an overly bright smile, asking,

"Excuse me, Madam. Would it be alright if someone joins you at your table?"

You look at her, caught off guard, really not wanting a stranger at your table in this horrid moment, but you are too polite to say no, and so you smile weakly back at her, pressing out in a tear-thick voice,

"Of course, I don't mind."

You wipe your eyes again, trying to will the tears away, as a tall man in a fancy-looking black suit and slicked-back pink hair comes into view. He is snapping at the waitress, clearly annoyed, saying something about how rude it is to forget his reservation and that this will have consequences since he is a regular customer, etc.

But he sits down across from you, still fuming as the waitress bows deeply several times, apologizing profusely for the mistake, promising that the man's food and drinks will be free tonight.

He lets out an exasperated sigh and orders a glass of red wine, which the waitress immediately scrambles to get for him.

You gulp hard, trying to regain composure, hoping you don't look as forlorn as you feel. You lift your head to nod at the man across from you, trying to muster up a polite smile because, after all, you have been trained from a young age to always be friendly.

You take him in and draw in a surprised breath. He is gorgeous. The most attractive man you have ever seen. Tall and broad-shouldered with masculine but beautiful features. Angular jawline, intelligent maroon eyes, and sensual lips that are lifted in a smug smirk as he nods back at you,

"Excuse this inconvenience. I will make sure whoever is responsible will get fired."

And, of course, you splutter and are quick to try doing damage control, not wanting some poor person to lose their job over this.

"Oh no, please, it's no problem at all!"

The pink-haired man laughs softly, a low, husky sound that makes your pulse flutter nervously.

He looks intimidating with his tall height and muscular build, and the tattoos that line his handsome face. But he is distinguished and elegant, wearing a designer suit and an expensive watch. Clearly, he is a regular guest of a restaurant like this.

He looks like a successful CEO (or a Yakuza boss, your mind provides not helpful at all). He's definitely someone in a powerful position, judging by his whole appearance and the dominant and confident aura he exudes. But he also has pastel pink hair, a boyish grin, and a playful attitude that makes him seem not as scary as you first thought.

His wine arrives from a different waitress, and he thanks her politely, telling her,

"Put everything the lovely lady across from me orders on my card."

The waitress is quick to bow deeply with a polite, "Of course, Mr. Itadori," at the same moment, as your eyes widen, and you quickly argue,

"Oh no, please, I can't..."

But he smirks his charming smirk and lifts a large hand dismissively,

"It's the least I can do for ruining your evening in much-wanted solitude."

Much wanted solitude.

His words hit you to the core, making all the sadness well up in you again. If only it were true. If only you were truly a single, independent woman who came here after a successful day at work to enjoy dinner on her own in voluntarily chosen solitude.

But you are none of that. You are an abandoned and unloved wife with a boring job and no money, sitting here at a table for two because your husband ditched you to fuck his pretty little assistant in his office.

And suddenly, the tears are back in your eyes, making it hard to see. You quickly avert your shameful gaze, your hand grabbing your wine glass so tightly it almost breaks.

Your sight is blurry, but you can still see the shocked look on the man's face across from you. His eyes dart away from you but then back again, obviously not used to the company of a crying stranger. He clears his throat before he leans slightly across the table, lowering his voice to a soft murmur,

"Are you alright?"

You feel embarrassment flood you, feeling so mortified at your behavior. You wish the ground would just open up and swallow you! This is so typical of you, ruining this stranger's evening, because you don't have your emotions under control and act like a complete fool. It's something your husband would chide you for or make fun of if he saw it.

"I... I am so sorry! Please just ignore me."

You hate how your voice breaks, and before you can suppress it, a pathetic-sounding sob falls from your lips. You press your hands to your face, sobbing silently into them, trying to hide from the world and from the poor guy who's forced to share this table with you.

But then you feel a tentative touch, a warm hand gently brushing over your arm, and you pull your hands from your face, blinking at your table partner, feeling your lips tremble and your face burning, knowing that you must look so ugly right now with your makeup ruined and tears and snot coating your face.

Another apology is already waiting on your tongue, but he shakes his head, and somehow, it's so authoritative but also gentle that your apology dies on your tongue. Instead, you blink at him, as he cocks his head and watches you thoughtfully, that low voice so smooth and soothing when he says,

"Don't apologize."

You nod, trying to smile gratefully at him, but fail miserably as his kind reaction only causes more tears to fall.

He shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a handkerchief. Not a paper tissue, but an actual handkerchief. He offers it to you, and you reach for it automatically, thanking him. But you freeze the moment your hand wraps around the fabric, realizing it's made out of fine silk.

He raises an eyebrow,

"Please, take it."

"But I... I will just ruin it with my makeup..."

He huffs, a soft smirk lifting his lips,

"I don't care. I'll just buy a new one. Take it. I insist."

"Th.. thank you, sir. That's really sweet of you."

His lips twitch,

"You're welcome. And for you, it's Sukuna, not sir."

You sniffle, pressing his handkerchief against your cheeks as you nod and tell him your name.

His smirk softens to a small smile, and he jerks his tattooed chin toward your empty wine glass.

"Do you want another one of those? Looks like you could use it."

You nod as more tears well up in your eyes, and Sukuna snips his fingers, instantly summoning a waiter to your table as if they are all hovering nearby just waiting for Sukuna to voice a wish.

Five minutes later, you have another red wine to hold on to and sip on, which causes a comforting buzz in your head, and suddenly, it all breaks out of you, and you tell Sukuna everything. You tell him about your failed marriage, about how lonely you feel, how unloved. About your cheating husband. About how pathetic you think you are for not daring to leave him because you have never been on your own before and you have no one who has your back.

You cry and sob and take big gulps of the wine while pouring your heart out to this beautiful stranger sitting across from you. This guy who, despite his intimidating look, is surprisingly gentle with you and who doesn't mind that you stain his silken handkerchief with your mascara and lipstick.

Sukuna actually listens to you. He looks earnestly at you, clenches his jaw when you tell him how your husband treats you, and shakes his head when you say under tears how stupid you think you are.

"No, you aren't. Don't blame yourself. It's him. He is the problem. He is the asshole."

Sukuna is the first one who tells you that you deserve better.

You feel an unexpected relief at finally being able to pour your heart out to someone. And just when you get yourself enough under control again to begin feeling embarrassed at your outburst, Sukuna flashes you a smirk and raises an eyebrow, asking,

"Do you want me to get rid of him for you?"

Which makes you forget the embarrassment and instead stare at him with big eyes and hurriedly splutter,

"Oh my god, no! This is not what I..."

You don't get any further because Sukuna begins to laugh, shaking his head slightly as his eyes sparkle amusedly at you.

"Don't worry. I'm just joking."

You huff a breath of relief, followed by a little laugh. Sukuna's comment managed to pull you out of your little moment of regret, and you feel better again, taking another sip from your wine and even managing to eat a few bites of the meal Sukuna ordered for the two of you, claiming that an empty stomach is never good.

Sukuna is nice to you. It's astounding to you because, with the way he looks with those face tattoos and the slightly dangerous aura surrounding him, you would have never thought a man like him could be so nice. It brings more tears to your eyes, feeling too emotional from all the wine. But you use Sukuna's handkerchief to blot them away.

He leaves with you when you say you have to go home, walks around the table, and pulls out your chair like a real gentleman. He offers you his strong arm when you sway lightly on your heels. He helps you into your coat and accompanies you to the exit.

You stand in front of the restaurant on the busy street, but all you see is Sukuna, who stands so close to you that you can smell his cologne, a sensual, woodsy scent that fits him perfectly, smelling expensive and sexy.

He puts a large hand on your tear-stained cheek, cupping it gently, wiping a few fresh tears away, and you take a step closer to him as if drawn in by a magical force, craving this tender touch, even if it's just a stranger touching your cheek in the middle of a busy sidewalk.

Sukuna is so tall and broad, making you feel so safe somehow, and before you can stop yourself, you lean your head against his broad chest, closing your eyes for a moment and sighing longingly. For the first time in so long, you feel as if you can breathe.

You reluctantly take a step back again, tilting your head to smile up at Sukuna, thanking him again for everything he did for you. And he grins at you and leans down, his lips brushing over your ear, while his hand still caresses your cheek,

"You deserve so much better than your asshole of a husband. Don't hesitate to call or text me when you need a break again."

And with that, he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. It's such a delicate feeling, so soft and gone again in a split second that you aren't sure if it really happened or if you just imagined it, but it fills you with such warmth that it almost hurts.

Sukuna pulls away with a smirk, and you see a business card dangling from his long fingers. You take it from him with a small, grateful smile.

+++

Several days pass, during which you firmly ignore the business card that's still in your purse.

Waking up the next morning after meeting Sukuna made you feel strange. Guilty somehow. As if you had done something wrong. It's ridiculous, of course. Nothing happened between Sukuna and you. And if someone was supposed to feel guilt, it was your husband. And yet you refused to even look at the business card, feeling like you would be doing something bad if you even so much as entertained the idea of adding Sukuna's number to your contacts.

No, you would never contact Sukuna. You would do as your mom had said. Just accept the circumstances of your marriage and create your own happiness. Maybe you should really find a new hobby. Or maybe you could get a pet? A cat or a dog?

For the next few days, you almost manage to convince yourself that you are fine with your life. You keep yourself busy by researching different cat and dog breeds and starting a new TV show.

But then you walk in on your husband flirting with his affair on the phone again, and you see red. This time, you can't stop yourself from confronting him, from snapping at him and screaming at him under tears to stop it.

It leads to nothing, though. He is so unbothered, so smooth, lying through his teeth, downplaying it, claiming she is just a good friend, making you seem like some nutcase who overreacts at every little thing.

You escape to the bedroom, sitting on the bed, staring off into space as tears stream down your face, feeling so helpless in your rage and misery. What are you supposed to do when your cheating partner refuses to admit he is actually cheating on you?

You wish you had the courage to leave him. Or better, you wish he would take the decision from you and leave you so you won't be the one everyone blames for ending this seemingly perfect marriage! And so you won't have to be the one who makes a decision that will change your whole life.

You yank open your nightstand, searching for some paper tissues. And that's when you see Sukuna's handkerchief again, peeking out from under a package of chocolate cookies.

You brush tenderly over the soft, silken fabric. A small smile lifts your lips as your fingers brush over the initials embroidered on it in one corner in a fancy gold thread. S.I.. Itadori Sukuna.

You let out a long breath, wiping your tears away with one hand while the other holds the handkerchief. And suddenly, the clouds seem to disappear as you remember the warmth you felt when Sukuna cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away. And suddenly you know what you want to do.

You jump up and walk to your dresser, pull it open hurriedly, and yank out the purse you had with you in that restaurant. You open it, impatiently emptying its contents over your bed, until you see the business card with Sukuna's contact information.

On any other day, you would overthink things and take an hour to even make up your mind about what to write, but in the state you are in right now, everything seems so clear.

You grab your phone, add Sukuna's contact, and open a new text message. Your fingers seem to do the work without you consciously having to think about it as they quickly type a message:

"Hey. It's your surprise table partner from last Friday. Thank you again for being so nice to me and for your handkerchief."

You feel triumphant as you place your phone down on your nightstand. And then it buzzes, and your heart jumps to your throat. There's a reply.

"I'm glad you finally texted me. You are very welcome. How are you feeling?"

"I am ok. What about you?"

You cringe at your poor small-talk skills, but Sukuna is surprisingly easy to talk to. He tells you about his day, about business meetings, and what he will have for dinner.

There's a strange feeling spreading through your chest. A kind of longing. You crave the feeling of being near Sukuna again. How safe you felt when leaning your head against his chest for a few seconds. How seen you felt when he listened patiently to you and reassured you.

You want to see him again. Want that feeling again.

"I want to give you back your handkerchief. Where can we meet?"

You know you sound weird as fuck, but it's the only way you dare ask him to meet you again.

"I don't want that handkerchief back, sweetheart. But we should meet up anyway. I quite enjoyed your company. How about you join me again for dinner sometime this week?"

Oh.

Your heart is racing uncontrollably, and your hand shakes as you stare at Sukuna's message.

This is it. This is where things become dangerous. You know the right thing to do would be to say no. It's what a married woman should do. But your husband is in the living room, probably sexting his little affair, so why should you be a good wife?

And so you text Sukuna back, letting him know that dinner sounds great.

+++

The dinner with Sukuna is nice. Really nice. You catch yourself feeling so much lighter, your lips lifted in genuine laughter, your eyes shining with happiness as you spend your evening with Sukuna. He is a very charming conversationalist. Cocky, but in such a playful way that it makes you giggle and feel your face get hot from all the joy it brings you to playfully joke around with him and let him tease you in such a charming and light-hearted way.

Your meeting is innocent, nothing that could be counted as cheating. Just a man and a woman who enjoy good food and wine together and chat about everything and nothing. The occasional small touches don't count, right? Like when Sukuna's large hand brushes over the back of your much smaller hand that's resting on the table.

Or when he reaches across the table to cup your chin and wipe some cherry sauce off the corner of your lips with his thumb. But just because his gentle touch makes your skin tingle and your pulse quicken doesn't mean there is anything going on between Sukuna and you!

Sukuna refuses to let you pay, saying it's a delight for him to have you keep him company. And you laugh bashfully and wave him off but feel so giddy. Sukuna offers you his arm when you walk out of the restaurant, and you take it happily, marveling at how tall he is and how safe you feel walking at his side, biting your lip when you wrap your hand around his upper arm and feel his big biceps flex under your palm.

You say good night on the street in front of the restaurant, and before you know what you are doing, you wrap your arms around Sukuna for a light hug. You intend to pull away again immediately, just a quick, friendly hug, but you get stopped by Sukuna's strong arms wrapping around you, holding you firmly, hugging you back, and not letting you go yet.

He rests his chin on your head, and you have the enticing scent of his cologne in your nose again. You feel so warm and comfortable with Sukuna's strong arms around you, his tall, muscular body pressing against you, warm and reassuring. It makes you let out a shaky breath, overcome with feelings, because you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.

Sukuna's low voice is a velvety rumble when he says,

"I am on the National Museum's VIP list. There will be a pre-opening event for a new exhibition this coming week. Heian era. It sounds interesting. Would you like to accompany me?"

You lift your head, looking curiously at Sukuna,

"What must one do to get added to the National Museum's VIP list?"

An amused smirk lifts Sukuna's lips, making him look so unfairly handsome,

"Oh, nothing much, just make one or two generous donations every year."

He shrugs, and you laugh, beaming up at him in amusement as you nod,

"I would love to accompany you."

"Sweet. It's settled, then. I'll text you the day and time."

You want to walk to the subway, but Sukuna stops you with a warm hand on your arm, saying he will drive you home. For a moment, you freeze, not knowing what to say. It feels wrong somehow to let another man drive you to the apartment you share with your husband. And maybe you should be cautious and keep a distance and not let Sukuna know exactly where you live.

But you shake yourself out of it. All of those things have been hammered into your brain all of your life, making you anxious and scared and never truly living your life. You are already meeting with Sukuna for dinner and will accompany him to a museum next week. The world won't end if he knows your address!

You smile at him and nod, telling him it would be very nice if he drove you. And Sukuna smiles back, a pleased look in his maroon eyes. He gently steers you towards the parking space with a large hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you stroll down the street.

You catch yourself having a more upright posture than usual, your head lifted, your lips adorned with a soft smile. You feel like the passerbies are all looking at you and Sukuna. Maybe thinking the two of you are a couple on a date, and the thought makes your stomach tingle.

Sukuna's car is a black Porsche. You don't even know why you are surprised. He grins lazily as he opens the door for you and helps you slip into the passenger seat, handing you your purse when you sit and carefully closing the door behind you before he walks around the front of the fancy sports car and gets into the driver's seat.

"Nice car," you say, and Sukuna turns to look at you with a teasing twinkle in his eyes,

"Well, I'm not a nice guy, so at least my car should be."

"Oh, I think you are very nice."

The two of you hold eye contact for a long moment, both pairs of eyes filled with amusement before you burst out giggling, and Sukuna joins you with his low laugh.

+++

You spend the next evenings at home, having dinner with your husband, who is busy with his phone most of the time, making the cold, heavy feeling in your stomach even worse.

Your only joy is the anticipation you feel in looking forward to Wednesday afternoon when you will meet Sukuna at the museum.

He is already waiting when you arrive, leaning casually against a pillar next to the entrance, tall and handsome with his perfectly styled pink hair and his Tom Ford suit. A dark red one this time, which makes his eyes look like red wine.

Sukuna is a beautiful man.

For a moment, you feel a nervous flutter in your chest, but it vanishes again when Sukuna grins at you and greets you with his warm, low voice and a large hand on your back, pulling you into a half hug.

He doesn't even have to say his name when the two of you approach the young man who greets the guests and ticks off their names on the guest list.

"Ah, Mr Itadori! Have fun at the exhibition. And thank you so much for your generous support."

Your hand slips naturally around Sukuna's arm as you stroll through the exhibition. It feels nice to be here. It makes you realize how long it's been since you last visited a museum. Or did any kind of activity, really. Your husband never had time for you during the last few years.

You can tell that Sukuna is genuinely interested in the exhibition. He already seems to be an expert on the topic, adding interesting facts to the already detailed info sheets next to each exhibition piece.

It's an equal amount of endearing and sexy how nerdy he seems to be about this. Attractive. You like smart men. You like it when a man is passionate about learning everything about a topic that interests him. And Sukuna is like that.

You hang on his lips, soaking up his knowledge, feeling way too hot when you watch the sparkle in his maroon eyes as he goes into a passionate monologue about political intrigues during the timeline of one of the exhibition pieces.

And he seems to like that you also show genuine interest in the exhibition and in what he has to say about it. He blesses you with a soft smile that makes your stomach flutter. You feel exhilarated, your heart pounding in your chest, almost bursting with happiness. A long-forgotten feeling emerging again after so many years.

You thank Sukuna profusely for the fun afternoon, and he grins that charming, boyish grin at you and tells you he is grateful that you kept him such lovely company.

This time, there is no doubt about whether he really kisses your cheek or not. His lips linger on your heated skin for a long moment, soft lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before Sukuna smiles at you and cups your other cheek with his hand, his long fingers caressing it slowly.

"Let's meet again for dinner next week, sweetheart."

+++

You pace your living room restlessly.

Your trip to the museum with Sukuna made you realize something. It made you realize what this giddy feeling is that has been filling you ever since you started to meet up with him. That light-hearted, fluttery, happy feeling you get when you see him or even just when you think of him (which is almost every waking second of your day).

You try to shut down those feelings, telling yourself it's dangerous to let someone make you feel so much again. It makes you too vulnerable. It will only lead to more chaos and more hurt.

Why would a man like Sukuna even be interested in anything serious with me? He can probably have anyone. Either he only sees me as a friend, or I am just a little fling to him. I have to stop this before I get in even deeper!

In the coming week, you cancel your dinner with Sukuna by sending him a short text telling him you have a cold. He sends you a get well soon message and asks if you need anything, which you deny, even while you sob silently because Sukuna is so caring, and all you want to do is run into his strong arms and forget about your joyless life.

But you stay strong and put your phone away, forbidding yourself from sending more messages to Sukuna.

Your husband makes a rare attempt to talk to you, and you already know what he wants. After tiptoeing around you for several hours, he asks you for sex. You join him in the dark bedroom, feeling nothing as you slip out of your clothes and climb into bed with him.

You have learned to close your eyes during sex and let your mind wander, imagining all kinds of fictional scenarios to help you feel anything at all. But this time, you don't think of a fictional love interest out of a romance novel or an actor you find attractive. This time, you think of Sukuna.

You feel dirty afterward as you stand under the shower and scrub at your skin. Dirty for thinking of Sukuna while you slept with your husband. But what makes you feel even dirtier is that you still let your cheating husband touch you even though Sukuna is so nice to you. It feels as if you are cheating on both of them.

You cry so much that you feel like you have no tears left.

+++

Even though you haven't met or talked to Sukuna in over a week, he is still constantly on your mind. You are haunted by images of him. That beautiful tattooed face. That sexy low voice and the playful smirk. That tall and muscular body that makes you feel so tiny in comparison and so safe when you are standing in front of him or leaning against him.

You sigh. One would assume that acknowledging that you are developing romantic feelings for Sukuna would make things easier for you. Clearer. But the thing is, even though you know what your heart wants, you are still too scared to end things with your husband. There are too many insecurities. Too many risks and you feel so useless and weak, just like your parents always told you you are.

You feel frozen, unable to make a move. There is this wonderful man who treats you as if you are special and shows you how a man is supposed to make you feel, and yet you lack the courage to get out of your loveless marriage.

You have always been an overthinker, always scared to trust your instincts. Brought up to always be sensible and make decisions with your head and not your heart. So how could you just leave the security of this marriage? Especially when you are trying to convince yourself that Sukuna would never want a relationship anyway.

No, you can't let yourself believe that you could have a future with Sukuna. This is just a stupid dream born out of your naivety, which your parents always warned you about.

And how could you even go about ending things with your husband? Sit him down and tell him it's over? But what then? What do you do when he just refuses to accept it?

Or should you just pack your bag and leave while he is at work, letting him return to an empty apartment and a goodbye letter on the kitchen table? But where would you go? To a hotel? You have no money. To your parents? You would feel so ashamed, and you fear their judgment. To a friend? You don't really have any friends anymore who you are close enough with to ask this of.

You sigh. None of it seems achievable. Not for you. You are too chicken to do any of it.

Your husband informs you that he will be gone for two days for a business trip, and you let out a breath of relief, happy about the freedom you feel when he is away and you have the apartment to yourself.

You open a bottle of wine, listen to your favorite playlist, and dance around the kitchen, almost able to convince yourself that things will be ok and you can just live a life feeling detached from the hurt your marriage causes you.

And then your iPad dies. You groan, quickly walking to the spare room you use as an office to grab your husband's laptop, only to get greeted by his e-mail inbox, where you see a booking confirmation for a romantic couple getaway for the next two days.

You stare at it wide-eyed. And then you sit down in a daze and go through the received and sent e-mails, only discovering more outrageous things. The escort girls your husband booked over the last year, the flowers he ordered for other women, while you never got any flowers from him in all your years married to him. The romantic getaways he booked anytime he claimed to go on business trips.

You can't even cry about it anymore. The sadness is replaced by cold rage. And by a strange feeling of resignation. You know you could show all of this to your mom and finally make her believe what you told her all this time. Finally, presenting her and everyone else with proof of how badly your husband treats you.

But even as you snap pictures of the e-mails, you realize you can't bring yourself to do it. And the infuriating thing about it is that it's not even because it causes you hurt, but because you still want to protect your husband. If you show your mom this, she will confront him and make a huge scene. And you don't want that to happen. Even after everything he did, you still are too much of a good girl to let him face the rage of your mom.

That's why you close the laptop again without doing anything. You make sure to put it back to where you found it.

But a different kind of conviction has settled over you. If your asshole of a husband can go on romantic getaways and sex meetings, you can allow yourself some fun, too, can't you?

It's not even that you plan to have sex when you text Sukuna. You just want to meet him for dinner or another trip to the museum. You just want to talk to him, and laugh with him and soak up the light feeling he gives you.

He calls you instead of texting back. Your heart races when you take the call, and Sukuna's velvety low voice fills your ear,

"I just came home from a big grocery haul. So how about instead of meeting at a restaurant, you come to my apartment, and I cook for you?"

You agree instantly.

+++

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna lives in one of the most expensive neighborhoods of the city. The luxurious apartment complex makes you feel nervous and a bit out of place. But that uneasiness slips from you the moment Sukuna opens his door and greets you with that sexy, teasing smirk and a playful little comment.

It's the first time you see Sukuna dressed casually. And it undeniably does something to you to see him in a pair of gray sweatpants and a rather snug-fitting white t-shirt that clings to his buff pecs and gives you a nice view of his muscular arms and more of his tattoos. You aren't sure what is more mouth-watering, the food that is simmering in one of the pots on Sukuna's stove or his big biceps that flex deliciously with every move.

Sukuna lifts you onto the kitchen counter, easily picking you up and setting you down as if you weigh nothing. A fact that makes you all flustered and sends your pulse racing, making you gratefully grab the wine glass Sukuna is offering you, so you can hide your face behind it and let the alcohol calm your nerves.

No man has ever cooked for you before, and watching Sukuna do it is one of the most attractive things you have ever witnessed. He is so sexy. Passionate and skilled, and still always taking time to playfully flirt with you or ask you to try one of his dishes, feeding you food from a spoon or from his fingers.

There is a special kind of electricity between you tonight. An almost touchable tension that makes your skin tingle anytime Sukuna brushes up against you.

His voice is husky when he tells you what ingredients he uses to marinate the roasted vegetables. And you can't help but let your tongue flick over his fingers when he pushes a slice of roasted zucchini against your lips.

Sukuna groans softly. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you look up at his tattooed face. You are met by a hungry glint in those beautiful maroon eyes that remind you of the wine Sukuna poured for you.

You are caught in Sukuna's intense gaze, unable to look away. Everything else seems to fade away.

And the next thing you know is that Sukuna is kissing you. Or maybe you were the one who pressed her lips against his first. You don't know. All you know is that you are kissing right here in Sukuna's kitchen while you sit on the kitchen counter, and he is standing between your legs. His large hands are cupping your cheeks and tilting your head back, and your hands are twisting in the front of his soft white t-shirt, pulling him closer to you as you sigh needily into his mouth.

Sukuna kisses you like you have never been kissed before. Passionate, fiery. Deep and sensual, making your head spin and your pulse flutter under Sukuna's hands.

You can't get enough of him and wrap your arms and legs around him as if you are scared he will vanish into thin air if you let go of him. You kiss him with a hunger unknown to you until now. Like a starving person being presented with a life-saving meal.

Sukuna's large hands trail down your sides, fingertips grazing over the sides of your breasts, eliciting a needy little whine from you, and further down until they reach your thighs. You are drunk on his kiss, drunk on him, melting under every little touch.

And Sukuna hums in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss even more. His large hands slip under you, cupping your ass, kneading it while he makes you moan around his tongue.

You have always been shy, but there is something about Sukuna and the way he makes you feel that makes you slip a hand under his t-shirt, feeling him up, greedily caressing his flexing abs, feeling dizzy at how good his firm muscles feel under your fingertips.

You both can't seem to stop kissing, both tumbling down further and further into this heated desire. You are faintly aware of Sukuna mumbling against your lips that the sauce needs to simmer for another hour anyway, and then he picks you up and lifts you easily off the kitchen counter while his lips claim yours again.

Sukuna carries you to his bedroom while never breaking the kiss, and you suck on his bottom lip and run your greedy hands through his soft pink hair and down his bulging biceps, wanting him so much that you think you will die if you don't get all of him tonight.

You sleep with Sukuna on his fancy bed, and it's nothing like it was with your husband. It's like you finally learn how sex is supposed to feel with a man who truly wants you.

Sukuna makes you feel wanted and desired, a feeling that is so new to you after all these years caught in a loveless marriage where your husband made you feel undesirable, unattractive, and like you would never be able to find anyone else with how your body looks and how lousy you are in bed.

But with Sukuna, it is completely different. You feel sexy here in his bed with the way he looks at you when he undresses you. And with the way he moans sweet praise in your ear before his lips and hands worship your body.

Sukuna is a real man. Experienced and confident, but so loving and patient with you when you get shy and tell him that you aren't very experienced and that your husband was disappointed in your skills in the bedroom.

At one point, you tense up, thinking Sukuna will get angry like your husband when you are clumsy during sex. But the opposite is the case. Sukuna is calm and gentle, talking to you in that sexy low voice, all soothing and sexy, telling you that it's ok and that you don't have to be scared or embarrassed.

He kisses you until your head spins and then asks you why you got so tense, asks you what you need. And you almost break out in tears, hugging him tightly, hiding your face in his defined pecs, inhaling his scent, and feeling so loved and so safe in his strong arms like never before.

"I just... I have only been with my husband, and he told me I am not good in bed. He always got mad at me when I didn't know how something worked. I am sorry if I am not what you are used to."

And you feel Sukuna's arms tightening around you, feel him tense up. But he isn't angry with you, only with your husband.

"That man is such a fool. Look at me, darling."

You lift your head off his chest and look at his tattooed face when he looks at you all earnestly,

"You are a beautiful woman, sexy and desirable, and I want to fuck you so good you forget your own name. Because that's what you deserve. And you don't have to be experienced or fuck like a pornstar. You are perfect the way you are, and you drive me crazy. And if you don't know how something works and you want to learn it, then I will teach you, and I promise I will be patient and gentle."

You nod wildly, feeling too emotional to speak, and instead press your body against Sukuna's and capture his lips in another needy kiss. You can feel his smile against your lips when he wraps his large hands around your waist and takes control.

Everything is so easy after that. No words are needed. Just hands and lips exploring each other's skin in heated caresses and bodies entangled in feverish passion. You let yourself fall, give yourself fully into Sukuna's loving hands. Let him take care of you like no one has ever done before.

He fucks you so good you cry.

All the years of feeling undesirable and not enough slip off you now that you are in Sukuna's bed under his gorgeous, tall, and heavy body, your nails leaving scratches on his broad back, hot tears of bliss streaming down your cheeks, and his name falling sweetly from your lips over and over again like a prayer.

It's like you are finally alive, like you are a flower that finally blooms after all these years.

+++

That first night in Sukuna's bed changed you profoundly.

You catch yourself smiling all day. There's a new bounce in your steps. You feel so much lighter. Your stomach is filled with butterflies as if you are a teenager again who has her first crush. Your chest feels so warm. You're filled with new hope. Maybe there is more to life and love than you thought, after all.

You feel like, for the first time, someone has really seen you. You weren't aware that sex like this existed in real life. That a man could make you fall apart like that. Sukuna fucked you in a way that was life-changing, making you feel like you gave him not just your body but also your soul.

And as passionate and nasty as the sex with Sukuna was, he made you feel respected the whole time. Adored. That is what makes you lose your mind anytime you think of it. You have been with your husband for so long, and yet even in the beginning, when the feelings were still fresh, he never made you feel adored or loved in bed. You didn't even know it until now, but he only ever made you feel used.

When your husband asks you for sex, you turn him down his time, telling him you aren't in the mood, and you don't even feel guilty for it.

You keep running back into Sukuna's strong arms over and over again. Into his bed, under his heavy body, where you feel loved and wanted. It's like he opened your eyes, and now you can see all those new colors that you only seem to be able to see with him.

+++

Your clandestine meetings continue for weeks. It surprises you to see winter turn into spring, and yet Sukuna is still texting you, inviting you to more dinner dates and to more intimate meetings in his bedroom. You always assumed he would end your little affair before things became too serious.

But somehow, he is still in your life, reserving his Wednesday evenings for you, buying you roses, and taking you to the best restaurants in the city.

One night, you sit up in his bed on the ruffled silk sheets and bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over Sukuna's naked body. His tattooed skin, his buff muscles, his beautiful silhouette. And you blurt out,

"Why do you keep seeing me?"

It's what you have been asking yourself from the start. What does Sukuna see in you? You are mediocre in every way. Average looks, no real talents, and no impressive career. A wife who got neglected by her husband because she wasn't good enough in his eyes. A woman in her thirties, who was replaced by a younger, more attractive version.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is gorgeous, powerful and rich, and his age only makes him more attractive. He could have anyone.

Sukuna hums softly and turns onto his side, lifting his head to watch you with curious maroon eyes.

"What do you mean, darling?"

You avert your gaze, sighing, bringing up your hands in a helpless little gesture,

"I... I mean, you are you, and I am me. And I just don't understand what you see in me."

Now, the noise Sukuna makes sounds a bit like a growl. You feel stupid for saying anything, already about to scramble out of his bed and flee before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. But you don't make it out of bed. Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you and stop you. He pulls you back into his arms and against his solid, broad chest.

"Don't belittle yourself like that. I keep asking to see you because I want to. Because I like spending time with you. You are so sweet. You make me feel so warm when I have always felt so cold."

His words hit you like a truck. You blink rapidly, your eyelashes fluttering against Sukuna's chest.

"R... really?"

He huffs softly, letting out a low chuckle as his large hand pets your hair,

"Yes, really. I used to only have one-night stands or casual flings. Just sex and nothing more. I used to think that was all I needed. But you showed me something different. Hell, I've never spent so much time with a woman before I slept with her for the first time. And I enjoyed every second of it! I like spending time with you to talk and laugh with you and just have this companionship. You make me feel like maybe I am not that cold-hearted asshole I always thought I was."

You gulp hard, tears filling your eyes. But this time, happy ones. You sniffle against Sukuna's naked chest and press a tender kiss to his tattooed skin.

"You are so sweet, Sukuna."

He laughs softly, and you can feel it against your cheek, a low rumble, where your face is resting on his chest,

"You are the first one who told me I am sweet. Are you sure?"

Now, you laugh softly, too. The insecurity you felt a moment ago forgotten,

"Yes, 100% sure. No one has ever treated me as sweet as you."

"It's what you deserve. You are so sweet that I want to be sweet for you, too. And..."

Sukuna's large hands tighten around your hips, and he flips you over. He rolls on top of you, covering you whole with his tall, broad body. His lips find your neck, trailing little kisses over it, his low voice a seductive murmur in your ear,

"You're not just sweet, but also beautiful and sexy, and you make me laugh, and I want to take you places and cook for you and also want to keep you on my cock all night and feel you squeeze around me and hear you cry my name."

Sukuna grinds his hips against you, pushing you into the mattress, taking you with one powerful, deep thrust for the second time tonight. You gasp and cling to his broad shoulders, your legs wrapping around his hips, welcoming him, craving him, needing him.

He takes it slow. Slow, deep thrusts, his forehead resting against yours, his low voice moaning sweet nothings in between deep, sensual kisses.

It's then that you realize that Sukuna is doing what no one else ever did to you. Sukuna is making love to you.

And you cry hot tears, drowning in his love and his body and everything he gives you. Your nails leave scratches on his broad back, your heels dig into his firm ass, as you throw your head back and cry out his name in the sweetest ecstasy.

He holds you afterward, lies behind you, and wraps his tall, strong body around you. He hugs you with his strong arms and nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing kisses onto your skin, not letting go of you, taking care of you, cuddling you. Something you also never had before. A man who is willingly holding you like that for hours after he came in you.

You sigh happily, still in a daze. The occasional tear still runs down your cheek as you snuggle against Sukuna's muscular body, and your hands caress his tattooed forearms tenderly. You never want to leave his arms again. You want to stay right here.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna's low voice murmurs against your skin again,

"I mean it, darling. I like having you in my life. So much that I want you in it all the time."

One of his large hands caresses your belly, so tender, so loving, sending butterflies fluttering in it like crazy. And Sukuna breathes in your ear,

"Be mine."

You draw in a sharp breath and turn around in Sukuna's arms, cupping his face with your hands as you kiss him, long and sweet, and in between kisses, you murmur against his lips,

"I am already yours."

You know it is the truth. Even though you are still married to another man, even though you are still living with your husband, you are Sukuna's woman now. You suspect you have been Sukuna's woman for several months already, long before you allowed yourself to admit it out loud.

+++

Two hours later, you are buttoning up your coat, about to leave Sukuna's apartment and the sweet bliss of his arms and return to your cold, loveless marriage, and your lonely apartment, when Sukuna stops in front of you. He reaches out, wordlessly helping you with the buttons, dominant in such a caring way, and somehow, that small loving gesture makes your lips tremble as you are overcome by emotions.

He is so good to you. Such a giant of a man, so tall and broad and powerful. And yet, he treats you so gently. Large hands buttoning up your coat for you. The hands that also cook Michelin-star-worthy meals for you, or wash your hair in his luxurious bathtub. The hands that make you see stars when they finger you oh so good. The hands that caress your cheek tenderly and brush your tears away with so much care. Hands that give to you over and over again. A hundred little acts of service that this powerful man gives to you.

"Sukuna, I..."

You trail off, not able to put into words what you want to say to him. How much he means to you. How much you want him. How he made you believe in love again. How much you crave to leave your old life behind and start over new with Sukuna even though you are so scared of change.

Before you can say any of it, Sukuna grabs your wrists, takes them firmly but gently into his larger hands, and looks at you intensely.

"Leave that asshole. He doesn't deserve you, princess. If a man can't see what he has in you, then he is trash. Don't be scared. I can take much better care of you than him. I'll fuck you good and make you only cry happy tears. I will appreciate you like you deserve. I will love you like you deserve. I will ensure you always have everything you need. I have money, and I can protect you. Tell me, darling, who would you feel safer with waking through the city in the middle of the night? That joke of a man or me?"

Of course, you know the answer.

"I love you, Sukuna."

"I love you, too."

His strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a hug, and you nuzzle your face into his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. And finally, here in the safety of Sukuna's embrace, you say those words you have been too scared to say until now,

"I will leave him. I want to be with you. Only with you, Kuna."

You can hear the smile in Sukuna's voice when he replies,

"I'll help you, sweetheart. I have one of the best lawyers in the whole country. I'll call him tomorrow to prepare the divorce papers. I'll take care of everything for you."

Sukuna cups the back of your head and leans down to kiss your forehead gently, reassuringly. He looks at you with that boyish grin you fell in love with and adds in a playful and husky voice,

"And once all of this is dealt with, I will make you my wife."

He takes your left hand into his, turning it around, inspecting the wedding ring you are still wearing, scrunching his nose at it,

"And I'll give you a much prettier ring."

+++

You let the door fall softly shut behind you one last time as you walk out of the apartment you had been sharing with your husband for over a decade. A smile lifts your lips. You are glad to close this chapter of your life.

You know that a braver woman would have left her husband sooner, would have moved out, or kicked him out the moment she found out he was cheating on her. Maybe even sooner, when she realized she was unhappy in that marriage. But you aren't brave. You have always been full of self-doubts and fears. Too ashamed to crawl back to your parents and admit that you hadn't been strong enough to endure your marriage. Too scared that you would never recover from the financial loss of the divorce. Too insecure to believe you could ever make it on your own.

But now you have Sukuna. And the fall doesn't seem so high anymore. You know Sukuna will catch you in his strong arms. He won't let you crash to the ground.

In the end, you think it doesn't matter how you got out of that unhappy marriage and into this loving relationship. All that matters is that you got a second chance to learn how love is supposed to be.

And it still takes bravery to leave your husband and walk into Sukuna's arms. To close the door of your marriage and open the one that leads to the man who came into your life as an illicit affair but has become your one and only.

OH SUKUNA, I NEED YOU 😭😭💗💗 He really took one look at Reader having her breakdown in that restaurant and was like, "I will steal that woman from that loser and give her what she deserves." Thank you, Kuna baby ;)

Thank you so much if you read the whole thing! This story became much longer than I thought, but the words wouldn't stop flowing out of me because this story made me so happy. I hope it could give some of you the same feeling.

I often see posts/articles that victim-blame the women who don't have the courage to leave an unhappy marriage, so I wanted to write something where Reader isn't a strong, independent woman but someone who needs a little encouragement and lots of love from a man like Kuna before she dares make the decision to leave her husband. She deserves all the happiness!

I hope you enjoyed the story and maybe fell a little in love with this version of Sukuna, too 💗

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #jjk x you #jjk fluff #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #tw cheating

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beardedjoel · 2 months ago

Text

ride

joel x f!reader

request: "prone, leaving a hickey on their neck, in a truck bed" sent in as part of my 5k celebration! or you try to grapple with feelings for your parents' friend while getting absolutely railed by him 🤠 6.5k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap (unspecified but college age reader and it's said that joel is over twice her age), oral f receiving, unprotected piv, pr0ne b0ne, creampie, hickeys, dirty talk and pet names, bit of daddy kink (sue me okay), angsty feelings, alcohol, reader has a mom and dad and clothing is described (shorts and t-shirt).

a/n: saw this prompt and instantly loved the visual! such a fun one to write, and i got weirdly caught up in these two having history and a bit of angst so it ended up way longer than i anticipated (aaand everybody is thinking we are not surprised julie couldn't shut up).

Today had you on edge, taking in your surroundings more dutifully, fearing the rounding of corners on campus in case you’d run into him. You try to pretend you don’t want to see him, but can’t deny the sinking feeling in your stomach as you arrive for your shift that evening without having any chance encounters. You hate that you’re imagining how one would go as you wait on your tables, how you’d pretend you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of him also being on campus for parents weekend. Casual. It was totally, completely casual - the same sentiment you’d been trying to convince yourself of for months.

His daughter Sarah is only a year younger than you and ended up at the same university a couple of hours from your hometown. You’d played little league soccer together for a few years as kids, and your parents became much faster friends with Joel than you and Sarah ever did.

Despite Chip’s Bar & Grille being located off campus, it doesn't seem immune to the influx of people due to parents weekend as you weave through your tables, a sweat breaking out on your neck. Your asshole of a boss - the Chip of Chip’s Bar and Grille - never quite learned how to keep the temperature comfortable in here for the workers. He’d also declined your request to have tonight off to spend with your parents - too many other coworkers of yours had the same idea as you with people’s parents being in town, apparently. You know he also simply just enjoyed telling people no.

You plaster on a fake grin as you carry a tray of beers over to a rowdier group of men, probably here to watch Friday Night Football or something, judging by their team spirited paraphernalia. They’re already a few drinks deep, getting increasingly more bold with their commentary towards you, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with here before. You easily brush it off, navigating your way through their charged remarks with grace and sweet looks that should only boost your tips, letting the act drop dramatically as soon as you walk away from them.

Karina, the hostess - a sweet girl around your age - flits up to you, buzzing information in your ear. “Table 19 just got sat. Said it’s your parents, I think?”

You smile to yourself - it’s thoughtful that your parents would brave the greasy, unappetizing food at Chip’s just to see you twelve hours earlier than planned. They instantly glow and warm up at the sight of you, looking slightly out of place but nothing short of comfortable. They were the type of people that could adapt nearly anywhere.

“Hey, honey!” your mom trills, hugging you tight, pressing the slightly damp t-shirt you’re wearing into your back.

“Sorry. Sweaty,” you warn her too late, getting a chuckle in your ear. Your dad squeezes you tightly next, and when they go to sit down, you notice with confusion that Karina has placed three menus on the table.

Your eyes snap up to the front door just in time to see a familiar, broad form step into the fray, weaving his way through the bodies and tables. His eyes scan across the restaurant - dark and brooding as always - then land on you, standing tall above where most people are seated at their respective tables. Your stomach leaps, leaving your breath caught in your throat, him letting his lip twitch into some semblance of a smile - or a smirk, rather, given how haughty he looks right now.

For that brief second, it’s only the two of you in this bustling, noisy room, before the bubble bursts and he stalks over to you and your parents. It’s only then his eyes are torn off of yours, leaving you breathless and confused. And angry.

“Oh, good, already got us a table. Parkin’ was weirdly a nightmare out there,” he says, smooth and silky, announcing his presence. With one more flicker of his eyes to yours just before your mom pops up to hug him, blocking you from view, you see the mischievous amusement behind them. He’s enjoying the fact that he’s caught you off guard, that you’re flustered by his mere presence alone.

Yeah, angry sounds right. Joel Miller: certified prick.

After the fuss settles down, your parents explain they ran into Joel at a cafe when they got to campus this morning while you were still in class. Being their gracious, hospitable selves, they’d promptly invited him to come out to dinner with them tonight to catch up. Just your luck.

“The rest was history. Joel seemed awful happy to get to see you too, know it’s been a while,” your dad happily and obliviously trills.

You’ll bet he seemed happy.

Joel moves in for an embrace, and you stiffen before feeling his meaty, thick arms draping around you, the warmth of his chest pressing closer, his breathing in your ear. Everything feels lit up inside of you, sparks skittering across your skin. You beg your knees not to buckle, reminding yourself that refusing to hug him begs more questions than you’d like from your parents. You try not to melt into the familiarity of it when your arms fling around his neck, try to keep it… casual. The word bites at you, stinging deeper each time you try to convince yourself of its place in this relationship.

“Hey there, sunshine. How you been?” he mutters in his slow, sweet drawl. You can’t help but smile at your favorite pet name he’s had for you for years, wishing to wipe it off your face as he pulls back and sees it. There’s a returned softness there beneath all his amused loftiness.

“G-good. Good,” you manage to stammer out. “How’s the business… How's Sarah?”

You watch on as Joel stays planted right in front of you, the moment lingering longer than necessary or normal. You watch him have the same realization, clearing his throat and turning to pull out his chair, sitting down.

“Good,” he echoes you, smiling softly. “And good. Girl’s too busy with friends to see her old man tonight, though. Stuck with these two now.” He jabs a thumb in the direction of your parents.

The dig gets a hoot out of your mom, her hand playfully nudging him. The noise of her balking breaks you out of your reverie where your eyes had been plastered on his features, begging them to tell you anything.

You suck your lip between your teeth, blinking a few times to snap yourself out of this haze. You’d wanted this, hadn’t you? A chance to run into Joel, knowing that parents weekend would likely bring him this way. It’s too much, too… intense, to see him in your workplace, somehow merging his life with the one you lived separately from him. Back home the two of you had been on equal footing, but now he invaded your space, the places you were able to go to get away from whatever this was, to get away from him.

“I - I’ll go check on my tables. You guys decide what you want to order and I’ll come back. And I’ll talk to Chip about a family discount, or something.”

Your dad insists it’s not necessary before you scurry away, but you ask anyway. Chip unsurprisingly argues with you, huffing and puffing and generally being the asshole that he is.

“You want a discount for your family? And where’s that money gonna come from? Maybe from your tips tonight? Would that work for you? Hm?”

“Forget it, Chip.” Muttered under your breath, you roll your eyes, feeling dejected as he stalks off to likely terrorize someone else or put on his fake schmoozing act with a loyal customer.

When you glance back at your parents across the room, Joel’s eyes are on yours, intense and questioning. They burn into you, making you immediately turn away, trying to hide the glistening of tears from Chip’s beratement. It’s dumb, really. He’s always this big of an asshole. You aren’t sure why you expected anything other than his default or a single generous thing from him.

After pulling it together enough to do the rounds on your tables, you stop back to take your parents’ and Joel’s orders. Joel seems like he’s stewing, his energy quiet and distracted as he glances down at the menu, ordering a cheeseburger with a distant voice.

It’s not until you’re off at the point of sales system tapping in their orders that a presence sidles up beside you, the voice deep and hushed.

“That your boss there? The one lookin’ like he’s got somethin’ shoved up his ass?”

You do a slow turn to peer at Joel incredulously, glancing around as if you’re caught in a compromising position. You suppose maybe you are, but at least your parents are out of view from where you’re tucked back in the little hallway leading to the restrooms. It’s cramped back here with the service station, leaving Joel’s body close to yours.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you hiss, instead of answering his question.

“It’s not a crime to go to the bathroom,” he quips back. “Answer me.”

“What? You’re gonna beat him up?” You give Joel a pointed look before focusing back on the screen, punching in your dad’s Dr. Pepper.

“No, jus’ wanna know why a boss is out here makin’ his employees cry.”

“I wasn’t crying. He - he’s just an asshole. And why do you care? You’re not my -” you cut yourself off, shaking your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s fine. I promise. Please just… why are you here, Joel?”

“Havin’ dinner with your parents.”

You have to force in a deep, calming breath before sighing it out. “You like this. Surprising me, catching me off guard. You’re the one being an ass now.”

Joel visibly softens at your stressed demeanor. “It’s also not a crime to want to see you, y’know. And have some fun trippin’ you up along the way. I didn’t realize -”

Your eyes linger on his face for a long, quiet moment, burning with frustration and contempt and something deeper you won’t allow yourself to access. “I’ve got to get back to work,” you say, concluding the conversation as you snap the notebook containing your orders shut and push away from the computer. You brush past Joel’s shoulder, turning to glance back at him.

“It is nice to see you,” you utter, half hoping he can’t hear it over the bustle of the restaurant. When his lips twist to the side in a lopsided smile, you know he did.

“You too.”

Joel seems to behave the rest of the evening, paying the proper, appropriate amount of attention to you, treating you like the family friend that you are and nothing more. Just as it should be, you remind yourself every time a pang of sadness pulses through your chest.

When they pay and leave, you breathe a sigh of relief, working the rest of your shift with an odd buzzing in your head, picturing Joel’s tanned skin and rugged lines. The memory of the feeling of his body close to yours in that hallway makes you shudder, then curse yourself.

A mixture of disappointment and irritation worms its way into your mind as you realize that was your chance. That was the time you got to spend with Joel this weekend, when he was so close within your grasp. He’d be busy tomorrow, spending time with Sarah, letting her tote him around campus - showing him where she takes her classes, her favorite places to eat, her dorm that is likely decorated with purple accents and posters of her favorite bands.

You’d missed the opportunity to actually see him, too busy being pissed at him for existing in your sacred space, for never leaving you alone no matter how hard you tried to get him out of your head. You never knew when the next time would come around - even if you were back home, time spent around Joel was never guaranteed. Nor was it appropriate.

You worry your lip into oblivion, realizing it’s for the best, anyways, as you push the back door to the bar open after your shift, letting the cool night air greet your grimy, post work skin. You go to round the building, heading for the bus stop on the main street that will take you exactly twenty five minutes and eleven stops back to your dorm.

A voice cuts in, seeming to come from the darkness itself. “You always wear shorts that short to work?”

God damn it. You flinch and then press your lips together, slowly turning your head to the corner of the parking lot, following the gruff, familiar voice. You see Joel leaning against the front of his truck, arms crossed over his chest. He’s half illuminated by the streetlamps placed periodically across the asphalt, casting long shadows on him. The blue flannel he wears is stretched tightly over his arms, the sleeves rolled up to reveal those forearms that make you feel more than you’d ever care to admit.

“Better tips,” you reply, nonchalant. You adjust your bag on your shoulder, walking over to him. You stop short, giving a wide berth between the two of you, attempting to avoid the always inevitable pull you feel towards him.

“That so?” he says, sounding amused. Joel lets his eyes roam up from your feet, scanning your bare legs, drinking you in all the way up your chest until his gaze rests on your face where it softens. He’s obvious about it, not caring to hide the lust that lives between the two of you now that you’re alone.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, feeling like a broken record. You watch as he turns and starts walking to the back of the truck. You peer around to see the bed is open, staunchly crossing your arms and not following him.

“Thought I’d give you a ride home,” Joel throws over his shoulder.

“What if I had my own car here?”

“You don’t,” he punches out. “Parents told me they hate you takin’ the bus so late.”

You quietly groan to yourself. Of course they did.

“And I thought you could use one of these after a long shift,” Joel adds on, proudly holding up a six pack of cheap, generic beer, strung together by plastic loops. You give him a sardonic laugh, finally giving in and making your way to the back of the truck. Joel has it parked with the bed facing the far corner of the parking lot, looking directly into the thicket of trees beyond that separates Chip’s from the McDonald’s behind it. It’s late, the lot nearly empty and the businesses around you all quieted down for the night. Some kind of thickness hangs in the air, otherworldly and separating you from reality, pressing in on you to be so alone with Joel.

“Aren’t you driving?” you ask, brows raised.

“Ain’t for me. It’s for you.”

“Miller Lite,” you say, gesturing to the six pack. “Clever. And disgusting.”

He smirks, tearing one out of its loop and handing it to you. It’s chilled, but not cold, and you nearly grimace. You don’t even like beer, but being around Joel still makes you nervous so you crack it open, listening to the little click of the pull tab and ensuing fizzy noise from the liquid inside, then take a long swig.

“Attagirl,” Joel comments passively. Your heart flutters at the small praise and you peer at him, doelike, from over the can, hoping your eyes don’t give you away. Of course they do, they always do. You look down, shuffling your feet, clad in your black, non slip work sneakers.

His hand is hesitant, reaching out to you from where he now leans against the open truck bed, clasping around your wrist with a gentle authority. It tugs you, forcing you to take a step towards him.

“Joel…” you warn, still unable to bring your eyes up. You know if you do, you’ll fold.

“Hm?” he rasps, moving you closer still. Joel’s legs and feet come into view, thighs thick and meaty in their denim, his work boots dirty and scuffed. It made something inside of you flutter again, these details about him. You liked his mess and his manliness, the way he didn’t give a shit if his shoes were dirty, but that they were functional. You like his worn denim with the outline of his wallet seared into the back pocket from too much use. You like… him.

“Come sit,” he begs of you, and despite your best efforts, you’re unable to resist. You hop up onto the back of the truck, letting your feet dangle while taking another sip of crappy beer. He pulls himself up next to you, and leans closer, knuckles brushing along your neck, making you shiver. It’s heavenly and electric, everything you’d craved and missed and wanted, never able to stop thinking about these calloused hands and the man they’re attached to.

“We… we can’t do this again,” you force yourself to utter, fiddling with the pull tab on the can held in your lap.

Joel’s hand freezes. “You got a college boyfriend now or somethin’?” he spits out, unable to hide the greed from his voice.

“No…” you admit.

“Alright, why not then?”

“We just… shouldn’t.”

“Y’weren’t sayin’ that over winter break. Or durin’ Thanksgiving, or the summer before that when I was fuckin’ myself deep inside of you, lettin’ you call me your daddy,” he drawls out lazily, continuing to softly revere your neck with his hands, slowly moving to your shoulder and back, fishing underneath the collar of your branded Chip's tee shirt to find bare skin.

You swallow hard, feeling your cheeks blazing at the memories of how caught up in it you’d gotten. “I - I don’t think…”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Just don’t think.”

You finally dare a flash of your gaze to his, finding his eyes dark and wanting. “Joel…” you plead again, unsure of how to express anything else. “This isn’t… right. Who you are to me, my parents. You know that, right?”

He licks his lips and nods, moving in close and ghosting them over your neck. Your eyes roll back, your touch-starved, needy body begging you for more. “Torture myself over it all the damn time, pretty girl,” he rasps right next to your ear.

“Then why did you come here tonight?” you ask in a lusty whisper as his lips attach to your skin, sucking softly. Your breath catches in your throat, fighting a whine.

“I don’t know. I jus’... did,” he says earnestly, sounding pained. “I wanted it. Didn’t care ‘bout the rest. I wanted to see you, just us.”

Your heart pitter patters in your chest, that pesky, squeezing feeling of it that always takes over around Joel pulling taut. You know he doesn’t mean it, that he doesn’t want you. He wants what you offer - your body, your naïveté to stay involved in this, your company when he’s lonely. It was hard to say just how Joel felt about you, because he’d never dare say it out loud for fear of making this too real.

His scent invades you - musky and something fresh and nature inspired, pine maybe - and you feel yourself folding in real time.

“Joel…” you warn one last time without any resolve behind it, eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles into your neck. You want this. You don’t want this. You want him. You don’t want this uncertainty, this unstructured and wild thing that you two have become tangled up in.

It happens before you can even register your body moving of its own accord, crashing your lips into his waiting ones. His hands are fast, eager, to touch every part of you now that you’ve given some semblance of a go ahead. Squeezing, groping, one hand relishing in the feel of your tits, the other cupping your cheek, pulling you deeper into the searing kiss.

“Fuck,” he mutters when your hands move with equal fervor on his body - squeezing his thigh, wrapping around him the to clutch the hair at the base of his neck. “The hell says we shouldn’t be doing this…”

You shake your head, smiling into the kiss. “Probably everyone.”

“Makes me want you more, baby,” Joel counters, and you nod feverishly in agreement, squeaking in surprise when he pushes you down to the truck bed, swinging himself over to straddle you. His weight crushes down, comforting and arousing all in one, no time to even dwell on it before his lips are on yours again, a hand plunging between to cup you through your shorts. Warmth flows freely between your legs, the fabric dampening the sensation but it’s still too much, too built up, and you buck your hips.

“I want these shorts gone,” he demands. “Everyone wishin’ they got a peek under these, givin’ you all those tips, except at the end of the night it’s me right here, gettin’ everythin’ they want.”

Your head goes fuzzy, swimming with lustful thoughts as his dirty talk ramps up. It turned out that Joel Miller had the filthiest mouth you’d ever encountered, something you’d never have expected from the quieter, gruff man. He was an archetype of southern politeness most of the time - not without his sass, sure - but you’d never expected… this.

“Take them,” you breathe out. Joel grins above you, unbuttoning the shorts with ease, hooking his fingers in the sides.

“You’d let me, really? Right here… right out in the open?” Joel tsks, the grin on his face spreading into something wicked. You blink back to reality, to the parking lot around you, and yet your answer remains unchanged.

“Yes,” you whisper, feeling shame burn at your cheeks.

Joel works your bottoms down slowly, taking your panties with it and speaking unhurriedly. “Let anyone who comes to see what all the fuss is about see all of this, would you?”

“Yes,” you answer dutifully.

“God damn.” He chuckles, tossing your shorts to the side, leaning back to glimpse at the bottom half of you, now exposed to him. “Dunno what’s worse. This, or that closet at your parent’s place. You’re a dirty little bitch, ain’t you?”

You nearly growl. “You love it,” you shoot back, spreading your thighs wide open for him.

Staring between them with a certain wonder about him, he answers. “I do.”

He sinks himself down, moving to pleasure you, pulling your clit into his mouth and giving it a gentle suck. You yelp, a tiny squeak that has your hand flying over your mouth to quiet yourself down.

Joel moves his tongue to lap at your folds, drinking in the sweet slickness you’ve already poured out for him. The slickness that had been pooling between your thighs just at the sight of him earlier tonight.

“You been this wet all night for me?” he asks incredulously, toying a finger through it now, circling your clit in a slow, tortuous circle.

You whimper first as an answer. “You - you make me -”

“I know I do. Ain’t easy to hide a hard fuckin’ cock under the table with your parents either, y’know. Wearin’ shorts like that on that gorgeous ass of yours.” He tsks into your pussy before slurping again, groaning as your arousal starts to coat his beard.

Your chest heaves, desperately needing more from him, his satisfaction with toying with you going longer than you can handle tonight. Not after how long it’s been.

“Please, J-Joel.”

He chuckles darkly. “We both know that ain’t the name you want to call me right now.”

He was right, the word had hung on your tongue since the second you’d been alone together, since you felt his warm hands exploring your skin. It came out somehow more naturally than you’d expected or even wanted, but something about it just felt… right.

Self conscious, you hold back and grumble as he withholds contact from you, staring up expectantly. “Come on, angel. I wanna hear it, too. Been too long.”

“Please, daddy…” you correct yourself shyly, readjusting to the word on your tongue. Joel’s face, shadowed by the yellow light of the closest streetlamp, breaks into a smirk.

“That’s right. Right now, when we’re like this, I’m your daddy, aren’t I?”

You nod and he continues to lick your needy cunt as a reward, swirling his tongue over the delicate bud near the top. “Yes, you are.”

Joel’s tongue moves faster, urged on at your breathless cries for him. “And you’d want to come for your daddy, wouldn’t you?”

The words twist your core tighter, the warmth building to a near breaking point. “G-god, yes. Y-yes!” You cry out louder as he sinks a finger inside, crooking it to make you go a little dizzy. You clamp a hand over your mouth again, tighter this time, stifling your cries.

Joel pulls back, a string of saliva and arousal connecting the two of you. His finger keeps the pressure on that spot inside of you, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin as the most painful tease.

“Nuh-uh. Think you should be loud. Unless… you don’t want your coworkers to hear ya? Or better yet, that asshole boss of yours?”

You picture the ramifications of what Joel is saying, the way Chip’s face would go red, twisted up in anger before he likely fired you. You break into a cheeky smile, and without conviction you say, “I - I shouldn’t."

“You should be doin’ a lot of things right now, sweetheart. But here we are. Don’t act like you don’t like the idea of pissin’ off that bastard.”

You chuckle, nodding in a dazed agreement as Joel glides his nose over your sex, flicking his tongue out periodically and making you start to squirm impatiently. “Bet he wants to fuck you, too. Such a pretty, perfect girl. Bet he wants to bury his mouth in this sweet god damn perfect cunt.” He punctuates his words with a deep inhale to your pussy, his nose now tracing a little circle over your clit.

His words send you reeling - something about the possessiveness he holds over you makes you clench around his digits like you’ve never done for anyone else. “Please -” you beg before you can even think.

“Please you want him to fuck you?”

You sigh in lustful, irritated frustration. “D-damn it, Joel. No. You.”

“Need daddy to fuck you good, don’t you? These college boys ain’t doin’ it for you, are they?” he purrs into your skin, finally pulling himself from between your legs to glide up over your body, shielding you completely.

You feel yourself flush hot, still sheepish even after all these months affected by his dirty words and that stupid, yet hot - so hot, god why is it so hot - title he’s bestowed himself. A tickle of embarrassment creeps into your belly knowing that you’ve hardly pursued anyone at school, never able to find exactly what you’d already had all along - only it wasn’t yours to keep. It never could be.

“I - I -” you mumble, avoiding eye contact as his face hovers above yours.

“What? They’re that bad?” he teases, and you bite your lip.

“There aren’t many… relations going on, okay?” You grimace, finding his dark eyes and seeing him amused, yet studying you carefully, more seriously.

Joel throws you the tiniest smirk, but his voice is deep and sincere. “Damn shame for all of them. But makes me awful happy to hear on account of myself.”

You swallow, nodding, feeling an anxiousness playing in your belly. “Have - have you…? Since we last…?” You don’t know why you even ask, why you’re hellbent on setting yourself up to be hurt.

Joel hesitates, debating for a moment, then leans in to kiss you, long and deep. He pulls back, then shakes his head. “Not since December, no.” The words are hushed, whispered, one hand squeezing at your hip.

The moment is tense - too much so - and the urge to escape it crashes into you. You shift underneath him, pressing your hips up into his to entice him. “Don’t you want to fuck me then before ol’ Chip gets his chance?”

Joel practically growls, his hold going tight. “Wouldn’t fuck you like I do.”

You shake your head, licking your lips and feeling the flicker of desire reignite between your thighs that had briefly paused. “We’ll see about that,” you say, raising your eyebrows.

“God damn it, kiddo, you’re tryin’ to piss me off.”

“It’s better when you’re irritated with me -” You lick your lips, your hands finding the waistband of his jeans, toying with it. “Daddy.”

That same growl erupts from his throat, aggravated and breathless. His hands scramble with yours to free his cock, and you can’t help but peer between your bodies to catch the sight of it. You love every bit of his body, love seeing the way it moves for you, with you. The way that it evokes things in you you’d never known possible, hitting all of your buttons just right.

Only getting a short glance at his erection, your body is quickly handled by Joel’s rough, eager hands rolling you onto your stomach. You’re held down immediately, his weight crushing into you, nearing on uncomfortable with the bumps and ridges in the bed of the truck. One hand presses to the back of your head as he mounts you, the hot skin of his cock teasing at your ass.

All you can do is whimper, your head straining to look back at him as he spreads your ass cheeks, slipping between them and to your slick core, nudging at your entrance. Anticipation hangs in your labored breaths until he enters you, the tension released in an exhale of relief and sharp tenderness at the full stretch of him.

Joel wastes no time slamming into you, satiating every fantasy you’d had of him, every desirous, late night thought that caught you off guard since your last rendezvous. It was always just as you’d remembered it - a miraculous connection of your bodies that seemed to stump the two of you every time you’d tried to make sense of it.

“Hell yes, angel, you always take me so good, so perfect,” Joel grunts out as he thrusts into you. “Never complainin’, jus’ takin’ what you’re meant to.”

Your eyes roll back slightly as he presses impossibly deep inside of you. Despite everything - his size, your ages, the myriad of reasons this shouldn’t even be happening right now - it feels like the perfect fit.

“S-so good,” you whine , breathless as his body starts to lean in close, his chest pressing against your back.

“So good, who?” Joel reminds you, his voice now rumbling right in your ear.

“F- Daddy. So good daddy,” you quickly spit out, lost in the moment. Joel had once called you cock dumb, and you’d wanted to scoff, but moments like these proved it to be a very real phenomenon. You typically consider yourself relatively level headed, but right now you’re completely helpless to the power he holds, all thought centered on the way he slips in and out of you, every sensation and nerve lit up from the drag of the head of his cock inside of you.

You shudder, feeling his hulking form so close as he brings his lips to your ear, wet kisses trailing to your neck. He’s always loved your neck - it was the first thing he’d deigned to touch all those months ago that had felt charged, different than your typical interactions. That’s when he’d drawn you in, hooked you and pulled you into this whirlwind.

You scramble a hand back to reach for him, touch him, but he grabs it, tracing his fingers over your palm, interlacing them with yours for a brief moment before your wrist is pinned down. He fucks you harder, faster, his lips bouncing against your neck before they latch on, sucking hard.

“J-Joel!” you cry out in a panic, realizing the possibility of a mark being left with an impending meet up with your parents tomorrow.

“It’ll be fine,” he purrs against your sensitive skin, sucking a little harder before moving to another spot. "Jus' leavin' you with a little somethin'."

You see stars as his cock presses as deep as it can go on his next thrust, and you lose the will to fight a losing battle. You have makeup for a reason, you suppose.

You moan, loud and clear, suddenly unable to even care about the world around you, an audience or Chip or any of your coworkers rounding this truck and seeing you getting absolutely ruined by a man well over twice your age. None of it matters when you have Joel so close to you, so ready to please you and take care of you.

“G-god, you’re so deep,” you whimper out in a garbled haze as he keeps up his punishing thrusts, letting the head of his kiss the deepest parts of you.

Joel chuckles dryly, doubling down on his efforts, the both of you panting, close to reaching something extraordinary together. “Mmm,” he groans into your ear, still lapping at your neck periodically. “What d’you want with an old man like me anyway, huh?”

It’s a question you’ve asked yourself dozens of times, one you’ve never quite found the answer to, even after searching deep within yourself. Joel was brutal in the sheets but also sweet, and maybe that was a balance you’d been seeking without knowing it. The illusion he created of not caring was always overpowered by the look in his eyes that told you there was something more there, something you both wanted to build upon but knew you never could. So you took moments like this - dark and rushed and secretive in parking lots - and made the most of them while you could pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Instead of saying all of that, you just mumble out through your panting, “Y-you know why.”

“That’s right, this big cock, fuckin’ you like nobody else can,” Joel replies for you, and you nod languidly, your eyelids heavy, your mind concentrated now on the heat building deep in your belly, furling tighter with every thrust.

“R-right there, oh my god,” you breathe, pressing your hips into each thrust to pull him that much deeper, to make each crash of your bodies into one another that much harder.

Joel moans quietly, attempting to stifle the lusty little sound but it's music to your ears, listening to him fall apart for you. “Come for me, sweetheart, s-shit, daddy needs to hear you…”

“D-daddy!” you whine out loudly, knowing he loves to hear that name nearly pornographic off your lips in these heated moments. Your pants and noises break into little moans that crescendo as bursts of pleasure wash over you. Every muscle is taut and taking Joel’s harsh, relentless thrusts into you, nearly making you scream with how vibrantly every sensation seems to crash over you.

“Y-yeah, let ‘em hear it. Christ you sound so pretty f’me, baby. Milk daddy’s cock, f-fuck that’s it…” Joel’s string of praises reaches your ears in a distant fog before his hips stutter inside of you and he’s spilling himself deep and full. You clench around him one last time, shuddering at the sensation as your skin tingles pleasantly. You feel floaty, far gone as you try to regain your bearings, slumped and ass up on the cool material of the truck bed. Reality comes back slowly as Joel kisses down your back, planting one on your ass cheek before giving it a playful bite and kneeling next to you.

“You okay, sunshine?” he asks softly, and for some reason, despite feeling elated, tears prick at the back of your eyes. It’s too much, too emotional. You will them away in a second, not daring to let Joel see.

“Mhm,” you weakly utter, nodding. Joel’s hand strokes along the side of your head, and you peer up at him with a slack smile, finding that he’s giving you one back.

He comes down to your level, kissing your forehead. “Best yet, maybe,” he says playfully, but you aren’t sure you feel like laughing.

“Maybe,” you ponder, watching Joel’s face morph into a more serious expression. He curls his fingers around your ear, tracing shapes along your hairline, your neck, your shoulders as you stay just as you are for a long, quiet moment. He guides you to sit up, silently handing you your discarded clothing, helping you dress as the mess of him slips down your thighs. You have the passing thought that maybe he has napkins in his glove box, but then decide you’d rather have the reminder of him.

Joel sits next to you on the edge of the truck bed again, and interlocks his hand with yours. “I - I’ve got a hotel, right on campus. I could take y’home, but I’d like if you came back w’me for the night.”

His words give you pause, a tiny inhaled breath as you go to speak, snapping your lips closed and looking down at your lap for a beat. “Is that a good idea?” You ask for so many reasons, knowing that Joel is as acutely aware of all of them - the worst being that the longer you spend together, the harder it is to come back to reality.

“It ain’t a bad one,” he rasps, sultry and rough, and you crack a tiny smile. Always persuasive and charming when he needs to be.

“It’s not,” you admit, looking into his inquiring gaze.

“W-well?” he asks, nudging your side. “Jus’ one more night. I hardly get to see you, an’ you can go in the mornin’.”

You know how the night will go. You’ll both think you’re there for the sex - to sweat and say dirty things and pant all over again until you both come so hard that it boggles your mind. You’ll convince yourself that’s all it is, until you end up staying up late - talking, laughing, held in the other's arms. Intertwined together, bodies naked and comfortable with the other, because you’ve been here before.

You’ll both find yourself wanting to shy away from that fact that more is there - a real connection, two people with unlikely similarities, that just… get the other. You’ll both get lost in it, until the sun shines the next morning and you have to pretend that it doesn’t exist, that it was some figment of the power that the night holds over a person’s emotions, those dark twilight hours taking over your minds.

But you’ll both know that isn’t true, and there is nothing you can do about it.

“Okay,” you tell him, knowing the fate you’re subjecting yourself to - one that’s as wonderful as it is confusing. It hurts at times, but the spectacular things this man makes you feel outweighs it all. It’s worth it, that pain, to be able to find one another time and time again, and maybe even dream of more someday. “Let’s go.”

divider by @/saradika-graphics!

#julie's 5k celebration fic #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #x reader

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misstycloud · 10 months ago

Text

[Yandere.Rich man x ballerina reader]

(I don’t actually know much about ballet so forgive me if things are incorrect!)

—————

Rich. Yandere who was pestered by his friend and his wife to join them at the opera house and enjoy a performance. The couple had asked him numerous times before but he’d always declined. He was a workaholic and didn’t have any other commitments, so there was no need to break his routine. Although he would never admit it to anyone- he barely does to himself- he often find himself imagining a different life; one where he had a wife to welcome him home every evening. Perhaps a few children too. There was no sound besides himself and the staff in his home, it would be so very nice to hear the noise of running feet and happy chatter echo through the empty halls.

Rich. Yandere who is lonely above all else. His family is dead and he has next to no friends- the only one he has is married and devote all his time to keep him company. He knows that he doesn’t have the best track-record of being the kindest person in the world, and he might not be the friendliest or the most out-going, still, doesn’t he deserve some love too?

Rich. Yandere who eventually give into his friends demand and goes with them to the opera. As they took their seats- the expensive and best ones, of course- his friends wife babble on about her favourite dancer. They were regulars there and had seen many performances. He simply sighed and leaned back into his seat, waiting for the show to begin. He could only hope that it’ll be somewhat enjoyable since he doesn’t like wasting his time.

Rich. Yandere who was prepared for it to be a dreadful 3 hours, rubbing his eyes and suffering from lack of blood-flow in his legs. Oh how wrong he was. Instantly his gaze zoomed into you as soon as you stepped forward from behind the curtain. You were so beautiful and you moved your body gracefully to the music. It was magical. While he knew close to nothing about ballet, he knew that the point of it were for the women to look like they’re floating, and it’s exactly what you were doing.

Rich. Yandere who is instantly enamoured with you. As someone who’s never felt love this was all a brand new experience for him. He asked his friend and his wife if they knew who you were, since they frequent the opera so much. And turns out the wife did know who you were; you were her favourite after all. Rich. Yandere was never close with her or particularly liked her even, but he had to give it to her: she has excellent taste in performers.

Rich. Yandere who starts looking up information regarding you. It’s be your name, age, background, family, where you went to school and where you live. Everything. He also begins donating a lot of money to the opera house. In a short amount of time he’s become their nr.1 funder. The managers and owners are ecstatic at the news! They ask why he’s so generous and he simply answers that he loves culture and thinks it’s important it doesn’t disappear. Then, they wonder if there is anything they can do for him return, to which he smiles in response.

“Well, I do suppose there is one dancer I would be delighted to meet in person.”

Rich. Yandere who you feel uncomfortable around. He is so strange. You were just a normal ballerina, a dancer, no better or worse than anyone before your time. That’s why you can’t fathom the interest this wealthy man has taken in you. You two came form completely different worlds! But what can you do when your bosses not-so-gently urge you to see this man alone? You dont have any other skills and can’t apply to another job if you get fired.

Rich. Yandere who is determined to make you fall for him the way he has fallen for you. He’ll take care of you, love you and protect you. You don’t have to worry about a thing. He will do anything for his love.

“Don’t be scared, just keep on dancing, my little dancer.”

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mangooes · 1 month ago

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Skincares and A Touch

Sylus Qin was a man feared by many.

A powerful criminal mafia lord boss, draped in wealth and authority, known for his ruthless efficiency and cold demeanor toward those who wronged him. He was a man who could make everything crumble with a mere flick of his fingers.

And yet—

Here he was.

Standing in the middle of a skincare aisle.

A very pink, very fragrant skincare aisle.

Dressed in his usual all-black attire—leather jacket, gloves tucked into his hand, a long black pants, a watch worth more than the store itself—he stuck out like a sore thumb among the pastel shelves of moisturizers, serums, and face masks.

The sales assistant, a young woman barely holding back a squeak, hesitantly approached him, trembling.

"Uh… sir? Can I help you find something?"

Sylus didn’t even hesitate. "My wife uses this brand," he said, pointing at a neatly arranged set of glass bottles. "Which ones are new?"

The saleswoman blinked. "Um… does your wife have a specific preference?"

Sylus didn’t miss a beat. "She likes the datura-scented overnight mask but only uses it twice a week. The rose tea essence serum is a must, but she doesn’t like the lavender one because it’s too strong. She prefers gel moisturizers over cream-based ones, and if you’re out of the honey lip balm, I need a similar alternative—preferably with natural ingredients."

A beat of silence.

The saleswoman just stared.

The other customers in the store also stared, wondering who on philos would marry such a scary looking man?

Sylus arched a brow. "Well?"

"…Sir, are you a dermatologist?"

"No," he said flatly, picking up a pack of under-eye masks. "I’m just a very devoted husband."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Sylus got home, the smell of lemon tarts and fresh baked scallops greeted him—his sweet wife, (Name), lazily strolling through the kitchen in one of his oversized shirts, flipping through her sizzling pan.

She glanced up as Sylus walked in, helmet in hand, a small bag of purchases in the other.

Her brows lifted. "Ah welcome home Sysy!...What’s that?"

Sylus smirked, tossing the bag onto the kitchen counter. "Your favorites." As he leaned against it admiring his wife from the distance.

She perked up, leaving the now half baked scallops on the pan, peeking inside—only to find her exact preferred brands, neatly arranged in the bag. Her very specific products, some of which were even hard to find.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Sylus… did you just go out and buy me skincare?"

"I do it all the time," he said casually, shrugging off his jacket, hanging it before walking towards her "I like to keep my wife looking radiant."

She gawked at him, then turned back towards the now baked scallops on the pan. "I never even told you what I use."

Sylus smirked. "Sweetie, I memorized the way you sigh when something smells too strong. You think I wouldn’t memorize your skincare routine?"

He strides closer, both hands wrapped around her imidietly, as he snuggled inhaling the sweet scent of his wife and his favourite dish.

"Mhmm, i smell baked scallops...how romantic of you, kitten."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere husband, this is your favourite after all, do you think i would forget?"

Sylus lets out an amused laughed, he leans in to capture a kiss on the lips, as a reward.

She giggles in respond, enjoying the affection that is centered towards her, then she blinked. "Remembering my skin care details...that's, oddly romantic don't you think?"

"I’m an attentive husband sweetie, you wound me."

She huffed a laugh, shaking her head, her hand leaving the pan handle for a moment to hold her husband's much more larger hand, intertwining it.

"Alright, alright, My sweet Attentive Husband. Since you memorize my skincare so much, let’s put it to good use later."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that was how Sylus Qin, feared criminal mafia lord boss, ruler of an Onychinus, a man who had taken lives without blinking—

Found himself lying on their shared bed, a white facemask plastered onto his eye skin.

She giggled beside him, applying serum to his face with gentle strokes. "You have really good skin for someone who never does this," she mused. "I swear, it’s unfair."

Sylus, eyes closed, let out a pleased hum. "It’s because my wife keeps touching me all the time. I absorb your glow."

She snorted. "That’s not how skincare works, Sysy."

"It is if I say it is."

She laughed, trailing her fingers over his cheek, smoothing the mask in place. He looked so content, his usual sharp, dangerous demeanour completely replaced with lazy, pampered bliss.

(Name) grinned, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You, my love, are the most ridiculous husband in existence."

Sylus smirked, cracking open one crimson eye. "And yet, you’re the one putting skincare on me."

"Because I love you."

His smirk softened, fingers reaching to lazily trail over her wrist. "And that, sweetie, is exactly why I let you touch me so freely."

In every world and every life, no one else could reach him—no one but his beloved, the only one who could touch him, tease him, challenge him, and claim his heart in every lifetime.

ANOTHERR MAGNUM OPUS INSPIRED CHAPTERRR i love magnum opus so sos os ososo much guys help its concerning, i'll publish the inlaws fic tmrw because i need to revise sum *sigh

#lnds #love and deepspace #sylus x reader #lnds sylus #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #qin che #lads sylus #sylus

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fgumi · 4 months ago

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꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ THE BETTER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; jungwon x reader, GENRE; fluff, one shot, WC; 2.3k, A/N; i almost scrapped this... i hope it's as cutie as i tried to make it... special shoutout to @hoonieyun because i finished this with her encouragement. also! tysm for 500+ followers! you guys are so kind. ilysm. }

what kind of girlfriend would yang jungwon have?

the answer seems obvious enough.

someone as kind and pure as jungwon deserved someone just as sweet. someone who smiled as brightly as he did, whose eyes sparkled like his did–someone that radiated the same loveable energy that attracts everyone to him.

but, in reality? you, as jungwon’s current (and first) girlfriend, were sort of a far cry from jungwon.

you weren’t cruel by any means, but you were blunt. you hated sugarcoating words and definitely didn’t go out of your way to make people feel comfortable. if people asked for your input, they should be expecting your straightforward, honest answers—not your fault if they didn’t like it.

if people compared jungwon to ragdoll cat—likeable, friendly, and cute—they’d probably say you’re like the black cat that’s historically considered unlucky and an omen. but, somehow, you two worked.

of course, people were always questioning your relationship.

when you two worked at the same cafe during your college years, there was a clear difference in how you treated customers. you weren’t particularly rude, just not cheerful like jungwon.

“i have two iced lattes for kiki!” jungwon happily shouted, pushing the two drinks out. the girl who picked up her shyly smiled at jungwon, only wavering when she noticed your dead stare at her. after that, she hurriedly away to her friend. you watched as they both giggled and glanced at jungwon wiping down the espresso machines.

“you’re too friendly,” you sipped your drink, glaring at the bashful girls.

jungwon smiled and turned to you with a teasing look. “it’s why i make more tips than you.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back on the counter. jungwon placed himself next to you after throwing the rag in the bucket.

“you seem grumpier than usual,” jungwon poked at your side. “anything i can do to make it better?”

“be less cute,” you muttered, words slightly disappearing in your drink.

jungwon laughed before peaking his head into your view. you immediately softened at his pretty face.

“if i were any less cute, you wouldn’t put up with me.”

you snorted as you chucked your empty cup into the bin. you busied yourself, organizing the misplaced powders and syrup bottles. jungwon followed a step behind you, weaving from either side of you to get your attention. when he stuck his face too close to yours, you pushed him away before glancing around you.

“we’re at work,” you whispered.

jungwon shrugged. “it’s not like the boss doesn’t know. i told him that i applied because of you.”

before you could reply, the same girl—kiki—came up to the counter. you stepped forward.

“what’s up?”

she frowned ever so slightly before clearing her throat. “do you think i could talk to the other barista?”

you raised your eyebrow. “i could help you just as much as he can.”

her lips formed a straight line before jungwon cut in. “how can i help you?”

you resisted letting your eyes roll for the nth time, returning to organizing the counter.

“i was wondering if you were free after your shift?”

you barely managed to disguise your laugh as a cough. jungwon pouted at you before looking back at her. “i’m actually getting lunch with my girlfriend! she’s been wanting to try this new brunch place and i promised to take her.”

the girl blinked, disappoint clear on her face. “oh. i hope you enjoy your lunch then.”

before you could move further away, jungwon pulled you into his side with a bright smile. “we will!”

disappoint made way for shock, her eyebrows raised. she didn’t say anything more, returning to her friend who excitedly awaited for news. you could see them exchange words before glancing back at you and jungwon, who was still holding onto you. you pushed yourself free and flicked his forehead.

jungwon winced at the twinge of pain and rubbed the spot. “hey! you’d think you’d be proud of me for mentioning you within 10 seconds of the conversation.”

“i told you we’re at work,” you lightly scolded. “do you want to get us fired?”

“the boss would never fire me,” jungwon cheekily said.

you knew it was true, so you just declined to respond. you made your way around the counter, choosing to clear dirty dishes and wipe down tables. jungwon shook his head smiling and finished up the work you left behind.

“that’s his girlfriend? no way. she’s like– a bitch.”

your ears twitched. you’re used to this unfortunately. from strangers to friends to family, everyone couldn’t believe that someone as sweet as jungwon would be with someone like you—someone a little mean (though, you resent that because you’d like to think you’re nice to people… you like).

“right? i don’t get it. she looked like she was ready to rip my head off for just ordering. like—sorry for making you do your job.”

“he deserves so much better.”

you agreed. not that you’d ever voice that to jungwon again. you say again because, in the early stages of your relationship, jungwon made it very clear that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thought—you were the better everyone wanted for him. you didn’t really see it but, after seeing how upset he’d get during those conversations, you stopped bringing it up.

you clenched your jaw, fingers gripping the dirty dishes, as you walked to the back. when you returned to the front, jungwon stopped you with a small smile and covered your ears. you frowned in confusion.

“don’t listen to them,” jungwon murmured, removing his hands for your ears to tuck the stray hairs behind your ear. “you’re exactly who i want to be with for the rest of my life.”

a blush burned your cheeks. maybe, just this once, you will ignore what others are saying.

it didn’t stop there though. those types of comments followed you into your adult life.

you made quite the reputation for yourself in your office. you were ambitious from the start and managed to make your way into a team leader position pretty early on in your career. but, it didn’t come without some office rumors about your character.

y/n’s harsh. she’s so cruel. i heard she blackmailed the manager for her position. y/n will rip you apart for any minor mistakes. interns, beware. the list goes on. you felt like they were unwarranted. what else did they expect in a high-profile company? your clients expected quality work that was free of mistakes. of course you were going to point out flaws. again, was your delivery cushy and sweet? no. but, they shouldn’t expect criticisms wrapped in pretty words.

their… opinions weren’t limited to work though. when jungwon stopped by your office to pick you up for lunch, they had plenty to say.

“hey,” he greeted cheerfully, stepping into the room with that effortless charm that drew everyone’s attention. your coworkers peered from their desks curiously, wondering how you interact with this stranger.

you glanced up from your desk, surprised to see him. “what are you doing here?”

“i finished all my errands early and thought i’d take you out to lunch,” he said, tilting his head cutely. “i can wait for you to finish up!”

you nodded, glancing at the papers on your desk. “give me 15 minutes.”

he gave you a thumbs up before softly whistling, looking around the office. jungwon walked over to the wall of excellent employees and grinned at your pictures hanging. he glanced at your coworkers, some having returned to their work. curious, he peaked over one of their shoulders. they jumped a little after noticing his presence.

he smiled sheepishly. “sorry.”

within minutes, he has the whole office laughing with him. when you finished reviewing the last proposition, you were met with the sight. you smiled softly. jungwon never failed to impress you with his ability to charm people.

you got up from your desk and walked over. “hey, i’m ready if you are.”

your coworkers’ laughs died down at your presence, a couple creeping back to their desks.

“i was just telling them about the first time we met!” jungwon laughed.

your eyebrow quirked. “when you fell into the fountain?”

he nodded as he reached to carry your bag. “still hard to believe you agreed to go on a date with me after that.”

you could practically hear the gears turning in your coworkers’ heads as they processed his words.

“you’re her boyfriend?” one asked.

jungwon grinned, clutching the straps of your bag. “yup! i’m a lucky man.”

“i think she’s the lucky one,” someone muttered under their breath.

you sighed and pulled jungwon towards the elevator, choosing to ignore their comment to go get lunch faster. jungwon waved goodbye as you entered the elevator.

before the elevators fully closed, you could make out someone saying, “someone as terrible as her with someone as kind as hi–”

you shut your eyes, performing breathing exercises you learned at the company’s mental health seminar. you could feel jungwon pull you into his arms before he peppered kisses all over your face. his attacks didn’t stop until you were giggling from how his kisses tickled.

“they don’t know anything,” he said, planting a final kiss on your lips. “they don’t know about how my girlfriend is the kindest person al–”

you covered his mouth before you exited the elevator. “not so loud. can’t have people knowing i’m a softie.”

jungwon kissed the palm of your hand, clasping it with his own as you walked out of the building. after years of being with jungwon, his pro-y/n propaganda got through to you, much to his delight.

but, even after all those years, jungwon’s friends still didn’t understand your dynamic.

“okay, real talk,” jake said during a game night at your apartment, gesturing between the two of you. “how do you two even work?”

“what do you mean?” jungwon asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“dude, you’re like the nicest guy i know—i’m talking nicer than the grandmas that feed pigeons—and y/n is…” jake trailed off, glancing at you nervously.

“go on. say it,” you droned with no real heat, crossing your arms.

“intimidating? but, you know, in a cool, really chic way,” jake said quickly.

jungwon laughed and wrapped his arms around you. “it works because she likes me just the way i am. a nice loser that is way too nice sometimes.”

sunghoon’s eyebrows furrowed. “blink three times if you’re scared.”

jungwon puffed his cheeks in annoyance. “she’s not scary, man. she’s the sweetest, shyest, prettiest, most lovable–”

you covered his mouth, your face burning in embarrassment. “that’s enough.”

jungwon pulled away from your hand with the biggest grin. “see?”

jake snorted and nudged sunghoon. “maybe jungwon’s the one scaring her.”

you all laughed and, tactfully, they never questioned you guys again.

sometimes, though, it still bothered you. why was jungwon—someone who was sunshine-incarnate—with you–grumpy in female form?

one night, as the two of you cleaned up after a dinner party, you asked him directly.

“why do you put up with it?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

jungwon looked up the dishes, bubbles somehow making their way onto his hair. “put up with what?”

“all the comments,” you said, rearranging the centerpiece. “the questions. people saying you could do better…”

he frowned and shut off the water, shaking off the gloves. “do you still think there’s better than you?”

you hesitated, caught off guard by his sincere stare. “it crosses my mind from time to time?”

jungwon shook his head, stepping towards you and pulling your hands into his. “there isn’t,” he said firmly. “there’s no one in this world better for me than you.”

you tried to pull away, feeling ashamed for feeling this way after all these years, but he held on.

“i like that you don’t pretend to be someone you’re not,” he continued. “i like that you’re honest, even when the truth is hard to hear. and i like that you don’t care about flattering others, because it means even more when you do compliment people.”

your chest tightened, his words sinking into the cracks you tried so hard to hide.

“i also like that you don’t care if people know how truly kind you are, because i know. i see it every day. i see it in the way you prepare my morning coffee, even though you’re the one that has to go to work. i see it in the way you put yourself in between the street and grandmas, in case something happens. i see it in the way you keep working after everyone’s clocked out to make sure your proposition doesn’t get rejected. i see it. i see you.”

at this point, tears blurred your vision. “but, you can do so much better,” you muttered, blinking the tears away.

“you are that better. you make me wanna be better,” he said with a grin, pulling you into a hug. “it’s okay if the world keeps talking. it gives me an excuse to fire back and talk about my super cool girlfriend.”

a laugh escaped you as you rubbed your face into his chest, a smile creeping onto your face. “you’re ridiculous.”

“and you love me for it.”

you really did. you loved him so much. but, according to jungwon, probably not as much as he loved you.

so, what kind of girlfriend would yang jungwon have?

someone who challenged him to be better. someone who didn’t sugarcoat things, who kept him grounded. someone who loved him so fiercely, even if they didn’t think they should be the one receiving his love. where others saw questions, he saw answers. you were it for him. and, hopefully, the ring sitting in his desk drawer was enough to prove it to you.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! come chat! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

tagged; @en-dream @heeheesang @bamguetismee @httpenhoon @r1kification

#enhypen #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: writes #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: one shot

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notafunkiller · 1 year ago

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tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #boss!bucky barnes #boss!bucky #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #rich!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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celuere · 2 months ago

Text

prepare for trouble!

and make it double.

pairing: peruere x fem!reader x arlecchino

context: bored to death in a never ending meeting, your husband surely knows how to entertain you.

cw: arle uses her fancy domain trick on you, threesome, bossform arle, vaginal fingering, riding, bondage, cuckolding (kinda?????), squirting, degrading, size kink, a lil bit unrealistic but everything is possible in your husband’s mindscape, also capitano mention because i know he is a gentleman, not proofread

wc: 3k

art creds: drunken my boss

A/N: arle x reader tag has been so quiet lately… time for elise and me to change that. and i apologize for taking this long, lots of work drama this week and i really wanted this fic to be perfect and therefore rewrote a lot of stuff, added paragraphs where i thought we were moving on too fast, etc. because i didn’t want to look back at this work with regret albrkwnrbwkne

so i hope you enjoy!

twenty…

twenty-one…

twenty-two…

twenty-three.

that would make twenty-three windows, two doors, three chandeliers and thirty other attendees in this hall.

you and your husband not counted.

latter one was sat directly opposite of you, her attention actually focused on the conversation at hand rather than you, how you were practically melting into your chair the longer you had to listen to pierro‘s plan regarding… well, you would know if you cared to listen.

even childe was listening, usually he‘d be the first to play tic-tac-toe with you on a random napkin but tonight you were all on your own. and only celestia knows how much longer you will endure this torture.

you ran out of ways to entertain your mind long ago, counting the tiles on the ceiling, the doors, the windows, making up ridiculous stories between the present politicians, diplomats and generals and even going as far as to braid capitano‘s hair to your left. you were surprised he even let you, only sighing before he brushed his silky hair over his shoulder so your hands can have better access. you should really ask him about the conditioner he is using…

your eyes drifted over to your husband once more, red nails slowly drumming on the graphite surface of the table stretching over the hall. her tie was slightly out of place, urging you to bend over and fix its position or untie it completely. plopping the buttons of her black shirt open one by open as you worked your way down her body, letting your tongue glide over the surface of her abs down to the trail of black hair and-

crimson x’s piercing suddenly through you ripped you right out of your fantasy. of course she‘d notice your staring, an eyebrow propped up.

„everything alright?“, she didn’t need to speak those words out, but she only added to your frustration with how her eyes narrowed at your obvious flushed cheeks. you could have sworn her eyes lit up for the shortest moment, as if she‘d looked right into your head before the corners of her lips quirked up.

she really could read you like an open book.

yet her eyes weren‘t leaving yours. only sparing the cleavage of your dress a small glance.

and something shifted in the air around you when a snap echoed through the walls from somewhere far away.

you merely blinked before you found yourself no longer in the cold conference room but rather in front of the bright gloom of a crimson moon.

with nobody present except your husband, seated on her balemoon throne and a smile so lethal plastered onto her face that caused your core to slowly melt.

„bored out of your mind, my dove?“, her voice came out as an echo, ringing through seemingly endless realm as she gestured you to come closer with a crook of her middle and index finger.

„i… arle, what happened? where did everyone else go…?“, with nervous steps you walked up to her, like a sacrifice about to get offered.

„do not worry about them, love. and certainly don‘t break your pretty little over head over it. think of this as a… secret room you‘ve found yourself in.“, she uncrossed her legs, spreading them right as you reached her, „you certainly found a liking earlier to my tie, didn‘t you?“

„oh, uh… y-yes… yes i did, it looked out of place.“, you reached out almost instinctively but instead of fixing it… your fingers got to work on loosening up the fabric. she did not seem surprised.

„hm? you want it gone altogether? i‘m not refusing, dearest. go on.“, black hands got a hold of your ass and pulled you right on her lap.

your breath hitched when your clothed cunt came in contact with her crotch. seems like your shameless staring did wonders to her cock already. impressive if you happened to be a stranger. but as her wife, the knave always had little to no self control for you.

you let the tie hang loose around her neck before you moved over to the buttons of her shirt. arlecchino did not stop you.

„my, are you in a haste?“

„no, i just-“

„hands off then. i‘d like to see if you‘re wearing the undergarments i bought you last week. go on.“, a black hand engulfed yours to stop you from proceeding any further and the sudden change in her tone caused your pussy to throb, oh you were so incredibly underfucked lately.

and it has only been two weeks since the last time she took you to bed.

but truth be told, you were in fact not wearing any pretty lingerie today when you pulled up the skirt of your dress because who in their right mind would think they’ll get pulled into their husband’s mindscape in the middle of a highly confidential meeting???

she only clicked her tongue, eyes displaying the obvious disappointment at the sight of your plain white panties. with a visible stain.

„a shame… i was looking forward to how the purple lace would compliment your pretty body, my flower… but alas…“, she wasted no time with rubbing her thumb over the damp spot on the cotton, tickling a gasp right out of your mouth, „i‘d take my wife wearing anything.“

those words were followed by your slip being pulled aside and caused your heart to set out for a beat, her fingers were quick to run through the slickness covering your folds.

„hah… a-anything…?“, you couldn‘t stop your hips from pushing further into her hand, fingers dancing around your aching hole. oh, she was teasing you. maybe even making you beg for it.

„ma cherie, i would show you seven different ways to heaven even if you wore a trashbag in front of me.“, tone as hard as a rock (also as something else…) and you knew she wasn‘t playing around. she was never playing around when you were involved. may the shogun strike her down if she ever lied to you.

her words caused your stomach to flare up, heat shooting up right into your cheeks at how serious she actually was before you felt her two fingers sliding into your pussy.

„a-ahh… y-you didn‘t even let me answer-“, you bit down on your lower lip at the feeling of her digits feeling your insides up for that certain spot, yet her face was unmoved. observing you. a wolf stalking its prey right before the deadly bite.

„right, where did my manners go… it is almost like my wife hasn’t been undressing me with her eyes for the entirety of this evening.“, a shiver bolted through your body as arlecchino aimed for that neatly hidden spot, sending bolts of of ecstasy down your spine.

„it is no secret to me that that my dear wife secretly wishes for much more… filthier fantasies.“

you thought you were hallucinating for a short moment before you felt it. a pair two hands- much bigger hands- working their way from your shoulder down to your breasts. hands carrying a curse with bloody lines for skin that dragged the expensive silk of your gown below your tits.

oh god.

oh. god.

if you weren‘t already sitting in your husband‘s lap you would have surely lost your foothold. you would recognize that pattern anywhere.

„h-how-“, you gasped as her hands engulfed the soft mass of your tit, giving it a gentle squeeze.

„some questions are best left unanswered… besides, i don‘t think you truly care about my reasoning.“, you almost overheard her words with how arlecchino‘s fingers were practically rubbing you into whimpering mess, nodding your head to her statement of which you only understood the first half.

she was so twisted for that. so twisted and cruel for reading your fantasies like that. why did she always have to be so attentive to you??

„look at you trembling already, dove. say, does this situation arouse you, hm?“, an almost exhilarating whine escaped your lips as you felt her fingers giving your hardened buds a good pinch, only adding further to the knot in your abdomen. too much all at once. too many hands on you. too many words you have to process while arlecchino‘s fingers were working inside your clenching cunt, never missing a chance to go for that spot that caused your body to shiver and your hips to further press against her hand.

„hah… i-it does- oh fuck-“, your first orgasm came crashing down on you like a bucket of ice water, straightening your spine and throwing your head back against what you thought to be your… other husband‘s abdomen as your walls grabbed onto arlecchino‘s fingers with no end. as if your body isn‘t already screaming for something more… filling.

like you weren‘t about to get the much bigger deal.

„so exhausted already after i merely used my fingers on you. i trained you to last much more longer than that, didn‘t i?“

the both of them hummed at your pathetic state. your exposed tits and their hardened nipples, your slick covering your husband‘s hand and sleeve and probably even her pants and yet you still looked… unfinished. as if as puzzle piece was missing. it was probably the lack of running mascara or your still very empty pussy that triggered their next action.

„i‘d like to allow myself the next turn now.“, a snap so crisp it could‘ve cut through time itself echoed throughout the bloody realm before fainting into a faraway whisper, when a yelp left your throat as multiple thicks string wrapped themselves around your limbs. especially your thighs, abdomen and both arms, lifting you off of your husband‘s lap who just… smiled at you.

„now let me have a proper look at you, doll.“, and like clockwork your body was slowly turned around. breath catching in your throat, heart rate increasing and if your lungs weren‘t feeling too big for your chest right now you would have probably moaned screamed at the sight presenting itself to you.

you knew she was… bigger in this form. what used to be around one head taller than you now turned into around three whole heads. and you suddenly felt so small at the cursed hand working its way from your tits down to your tummy, her sprawled out fingers touching your underboob even tho she was pressing down a bit below your belly button. but most importantly was…

„wh-what is the meaning of this-“, suddenly you sucked in a sharp breath when you got moved closer to peruere, whose smile had something… sinister in it. yet it failed to scare you, only causing the painful ache between your legs to intensify.

you only heard their joined chuckles roaming through the mindscape, not mocking you. they seemed rather amused.

„my sweet doll.“, your throat bobbed when you noticed her other hand slowly unbuckling the belt, but what rather concerned you was what she was caging underneath, „you‘re not truly asking because you want an answer, right?“, she did not bother with removing the leather from its loops and only shoved the fabric just low enough to uncover her throbbing cock, the black tip already glistening with precum in the red gloom of the balemoon.

the strings kept you in a straight position as your left leg got pushed up to your chest to reveal your arousal running down your legs. the sudden exposure caused you to gasp and avert your eyes from the combination of her hard cock aligning with your drenched entrance.

your husband clicked her tongue in annoyance before a hand big enough to crush your skull with ease grabbed your face to make you look back down again.

„i want you to watch it disappear inside of you. i thought you were smart enough to remember that…“, she slowly pushed herself forward and therefore her tip right inside and holy mother on earth.

„a-ah-!! o-oh shit!! that‘s n-not fair-!!!“, she was so big. you weren‘t even sure your poor pussy could handle that but you didn‘t even know if this was your actual physical body getting stretched out on peruere‘s cock in the first place.

„shhhh… don‘t be so loud. we got someone to entertain after all. surely, you‘d want to do a good job for her.“, you moaned as you felt her sharp nails digging deeper into your muscles with each centimeter she further slipped into your greedy cunt. and you were losing more of your sanity with each of them, eyes darting around, unsure where to look. her stern expression? the noticeable tummy bulge? and why were you even still wearing your dress in the first place? that thing just hung loose around your waist for all it was worth. might as well just rip it off.

„oh, don‘t let my presence cause any distractions for you. i‘m more than satisfied with the view from behind here.“, her raw voice from right behind was laced with desire as thick as honey. you were honestly a bit afraid of what‘s about to come for *you* your pussy.

„goodness, she is tight… and so small compared to me.“, as if she wanted to undermine her statement, a black hand pressed down onto the bulge that formed on your, sending your mind down a spiral of ecstasy at the almost uncomfortable sensation. your mouth hung open, moans and whimpers freely leaving as they pleased before you felt the tip slipping past your g-spot and you probably never sounded louder.

a thumb rubbed circles over your aching clit as if in an attempt to further ease you around her cock.

„breathe, doll. we have done this plenty of times, surely my wife won‘t give into defeat this early on. i trained you much better than this.“, you could only imagine those crimson eyes roaming over your trembling figure, how the strings gently squeezed your flesh and kept you in place. the only ones that allowed you to mildly move around were attached to your arms, one hand currently grabbing for dear life onto peruere‘s neck to somehow anchor yourself. you knew she couldn‘t possibly fit all the way inside of you. but you wanted her to. you wanted her to use you like a fleshlight so bad, to drag you on and off her throbbing cock like you weighed nothing in her eyes.

„i think our pretty girl is pretty much at her wits end already… and i am barely halfway inside. but this will also do.“, a hand came up to tilt your head upward to face her when she carefully pulled back- to push herself inside again, „look at you, i just started moving and you are already threatening to tear up.“, she couldn‘t help but lick her lips at the pathetic sight in front of her as she brushed the salty fluid off with her thumb, only for them to grow glassy again when she turned the pace up once more. slick running down your leg as your vision grew hazy with her cock pumping in and out of your still adjusting pussy. you could barely hear arlecchino‘s words over the filthy sounds from your cunt.

„surely you want her to come inside of you. isn’t that so, lovely?“, she sounded way nearer than a few moments earlier before you felt a pair of soft lips planting themselves on your neck and two hands coming up to cup your pretty tits, massaging them, squeezing them. you‘re going to die of a heart attack here.

„i‘ll take that as a yes-”, she ended her sentence with a sharp hiss as your nail scratched over her neck hard enough to draw blood when you felt it.

it was a rare occasion. often it was caused by overstimulation or when arlecchino was actively trying for it, but squirting over her cock on your second orgasm when all she did was move her hips in a fairly medium-paced manner? it was embarrassing. the way you gushed all over her fat dick, pants and heels oh you will never hear the end of it.

„my, what a stamina you have today, dearest…“, long fingers sneaked from your breast down to spread your still leaking pussy apart, causing you to automatically grip onto your husbands biceps.

„ah-!! wait- i-i‘m still sensitive-!“, you started sobbing on the spot at how your poor cunt was only penetrated further.

but do you also wanna know what comes with a bigger dick? bigger loads.

with one last push of her hips and a low grunt emitting from her throat, peruere emptied herself inside of you, thick ropes of white painting your pussy and you were full of her.

„mhm… get it all in there… gosh, look at that pretty pussy taking my cum…“, arlecchino pushed her two fingers inside as peruere retreated from you, a thick string of both of your juices connecting you to her tip before it snapped.

„p-please hold on- ah-!“, poor you couldn’t help but beg for a little break, you were just so overwhelmed with her fingers playing in your cum-filled pussy…

„what about your input?“

„huh?“

„your input, [name].“

you felt like somebody just straight up punched you right into the gut when you found yourself back inside the conference room. with all the attention suddenly focused on you.

„m-my-”, you quickly had to clear your throat with a few coughs, trying to ignore how beyond soaked you were, „my input on what exactly…?“, you masked it but you were fucking panicking on the inside. and your husband was merely raising an eyebrow at you.

just then capitano leaned down to your ear, „it‘s about arlecchino‘s deployment in liyue for the next month, as her wife they want your opinion on the matter.“, and he still had that stupid braid in his hair.

„ah, thank you… i have no objections regarding the upcoming plans.“, that was all it took for everyone to take their eyes off of you.

except for one person.

her x‘s were resting on you. piercing through your face as she crosses her arms.

that’s when you noticed the scratch on her neck. a fresh one.

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