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heartshapedmisery · 3 months ago

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𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 | cooper adams

summary ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ in which cooper adams is your next-door neighbor you've always had doubts about, but once you stumble into his trap, you're caught in the dilemma of becoming his next victim. but who's to say you didn't mind being his prey? . . .

warnings ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ | THIS FIC IS DARKER THAN MY NORMAL CONTENT, DNI IF YOU AREN'T COMFORTABLE!) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), rough sex, bit of a blood kink?, knife kink, choking/suffocation, dacryphilia, m!receiving oral, daddy kink, breeding kink, hair pulling, degradation kink/name calling (whore), heavy age gap (reader is in early 20s and cooper is in mid 40s), let me know if i missed anything!

word count ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ 3.3k +

pairing ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ neighbor!cooper adams x fem!reader

author’s note ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ haven't seen trap yet but i'm still a slut for josh hartnett so do with that what you will :p i hope you enjoy! i had so much fun writing this, let me know what you think! :)

publishing date ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ august 21st, 2024 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY

When you first moved into your new house in Philadelphia, Cooper and Rachel Adams had been the first to welcome you into the neighborhood. They lived right next door, eager to get to know the new girl who had just moved into their subdivision.

You were fresh out of college and already swimming in debt (they honestly didn't know how you could even afford your house), so they had been kind enough to invite you over for dinner—which you happily accepted so you didn't have to spend any money on carry out. Plus, you figured getting to know new people would be nice so you didn't feel so alone in such a new place.

They had a nice home from what you could tell; it was warm and inviting as you walked through the living room, taking in the well lived-in space. You quickly learned they had a daughter, due to the family pictures scattered around the mantle above the fireplace, who had just gone off to summer camp the morning before. They spoke a lot about her at dinner. Well, Rachel did, her husband just nodded along to what she was saying as he quietly ate.

He didn't speak much; His eyes did most of his talking for him. God, his eyes. There was something about them that struck you so deeply, that you couldn't help but quickly look away every time you made eye contact with him. And he knew it too. He initially thought you were just shy, but after he caught your gaze lingering on his veiny hands and muscular forearms, he soon wondered if it was something else that made you react so heavily.

You couldn't deny that he was attractive. From his broad shoulders to his charming smile, he lit something ablaze deep in your gut that got harder and harder to ignore as the night went on.

After dinner, you migrated your way to the living room for a few drinks, continuing to listen to the story Rachel told about how her and Cooper met.

"Honey, could you get another bottle of wine from the cellar? This one's just about out," Mrs. Adams turned to her husband as she topped off her glass, rubbing his shoulder softly before he stood.

He quietly excused himself to the basement, leaving the two of you to retrieve another bottle. He returned moments later with an unopened bottle from 2007, which Mrs. Adams seemed elated about.

"Here, sweetheart. Let me get a corkscrew," he told her, setting the bottle on the coffee table and making his way towards the kitchen. Your eyes followed him for a moment, before falling to his feet to see the small red splotches his left shoe was leaving behind on the hardwood with each step.

Your eyes widened slightly, your mind jumping to conclusions to what that could possibly be. You carefully look at the basement door that he had left cracked open, a weird feeling suddenly washing over your senses.

"What is that on the bottom of your shoe?" Mrs. Adams asked the question you had been too afraid to, your eyes snapping to him as he came to a sudden halt and turned around.

"I dropped one by accident, I guess I stepped in some of it," he played stupid as he looked at the bottom of his shoe, grabbing a dish towel and wiping it clean.

For some reason, you didn't completely believe him.

"I didn't hear any glass shatter," you countered, meeting his gaze as it slowly turned cold.

"It was a case of box wine," he said condescendingly. "Probably better off spilled anyways, am I right?"

Rachel laughed in agreement, a smile cracking across his face once he realized he had her fooled. But he hadn't completely fooled you, your eyes narrowing before you let the whole thing go.

You didn't get up to leave until well after dark and were slightly buzzed, giving Rachel a hug and thanking her and Cooper both for inviting you into their home.

"Of course! We're so glad to have you in the neighborhood! The last guy who was at your place was a bit of a grump so it's refreshing to see a young and new face!" she told you sweetly, her husband still only nodding in agreement.

"Thank you again," you smiled, Cooper turning to open the front door for you. You waved back to Rachel one last time before making your way out the door. The sudden feeling of Cooper's hand on the middle of your back made your breath hitch in your throat, but you made sure to play it off with a smile.

"Have a good night, sweetheart," his tone was nice and friendly, but the way the nickname made you feel inside was the complete opposite. Surely, he meant nothing by it. His wife paid no mind to it, still smiling as you walked out.

So why did it make a sudden rush of heat pool in your lower abdomen?

"Goodnight," you said one final time before you heard the door close behind you, and you could finally release the uneven breath you had been holding.

You leisurely made your way back over to your house, drunk on the 3 glasses of wine you had and the smell of Cooper's cologne that still waivered around your nostrils.

As you got ready for bed, you wondered if you had just been overthinking everything. Was that really just wine on the bottom of his shoe? The thought ate away at you as you replayed the entire night through your head, yet all that was clear in your mind was his stone-cold gaze.

There was no life behind his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, no matter how happy he seemed. There was a darkness. A darkness that you could feel when he spoke to you. When he placed his hand on your back. You shuddered as you remembered it, a white-hot warmth spreading between your thighs. It alarmed you how unsettled you were by him, but you felt even more concerned with how much you liked it.

The following week was quiet.

Your house was belatedly furnished to your liking, the last of your boxes had arrived Thursday afternoon, and you were finally starting to feel comfortable in your new home by the time Saturday rolled around.

You decided to treat yourself to a day out, shopping around downtown until you felt like you were going to drop. When you got home, you decided it would be nice to return the favor of hospitality to your new neighbors by giving them a basket full of little things you had bought while you were out.

As you made your way over to their front porch, you noticed there was only one car parked in the driveway. Deep down, you hoped it was Rachel's since you weren't completely sure if you could handle talking to Mr. Adams alone.

Once you stood before the door, you raised you hand to knock, hesitating before doing so, only to find that the door was cracked open. Carefully, you opened the door enough to peek your head in and peer around. All the lights were off as if no one was home.

"Mrs. Adams? Mr. Adams?" you called out, hoping for a response so you didn't feel so creepy intruding on someone's home.

Nothing.

You walked in further, shutting the door behind you and slowly making your way through the house. Gently, you set the basket on the kitchen table, your eyes falling on the basement door.

You knew you shouldn't be snooping around like this, but you had to know what was behind that door. You needed to know you weren't crazy.

Your steps were light as you tiptoed across the hardwood, your hand gripping the doorknob and slowly turning it as anticipation coursed through your veins. You flicked on the lights to see a desolate staircase—seemingly normal enough.

You cautiously took the risk of walking down the steps, getting about halfway down before you could see the full basement. A sudden horror washed over your body as you took in the sight before you.

A large red stain sat in the middle of the concrete floor, the grungy discoloration making you realize a cheap case of box wine wouldn't make such a prominent stain. It was something else—something thicker.

The next thing that stood out was two chains drilled into the back wall with cuffs hooked to their ends, the mere sight making your stomach churn as you thought about what those were used for. Below them, sat an old mattress that had too many stains on it to count. Some of which were a deep red that matched the one on the floor, sending a chill down your spine.

"What do you think you're doing down here, sweetheart? "

Your entire body went rigid as you looked over your shoulder to see Cooper standing at the top of the steps. His eyes were dark as he watched you intently, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he watched you back up in fear when he began to descend the steps.

As he came into the light, a sudden buzz overcame your senses as you took in his edged appearance. He wore nothing but a white t-shirt that exposed his toned arms and a dark pair of jeans. He exhibited the same lifeless expression behind his unsettling smile, each step he took making you take one back until he had you pushed up against the wall.

"Answer me," he practically growled. His fist was in your hair before you could think twice, pulling your head back roughly to make you look him in the eye. He was so close you could smell his cologne, the same one that had you in a daze only a week prior. It made a low whine sound at the back of your throat as your watery eyes met his.

You knew this was all wrong, but you couldn't deny the fire that blazed through your stomach as you could feel his hot breath against your cheek, making it harder and harder to keep your morals.

"I wanted to do something nice for you," you croaked. Arousal swirled between your legs as his grip tightened on your hair, a grunt of frustration blowing past his lips.

"What with that gift basket you left upstairs? You're gonna have to do a lot more than that to win me over, baby."

You whined in fear, but that's what fueled your rapture. The terror that coursed through your body heightened the pleasure you were feeling as he manhandled you.

"I'll do whatever you want me to," you told him, your fingers moving to dance across his lower stomach and down his crotch, teasing him as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. You hesitated slightly before letting the next word tumble out of your mouth.

"Daddy."

The name seemed to flip a switch in his brain, his large hands grabbing you and throwing you down onto the mattress and beginning to undo his belt. The clinking noise of his buckle made a surge of excitement jolt through your chest, propping yourself up on your elbows as he got a good look at you.

You looked helpless below him as he pulled his belt from his pants, his eyes not leaving your as he unzipped his jeans.

"Get on your knees," he told you sharply, his tone low and graveled. You were quick to do as he said, sitting up to kneel on the mattress with your feet tucked underneath you.

A rush of arousal went straight to his lower half as he looked down on you, the power to corrupt you to no end eating away at his brain. It felt almost as good as a kill; the feeling of you putting your life in his hands, unaware of what he intended to do with it. Your obedience astounded him and he couldn't wait any longer to dip into you.

With one hand, he pulled himself from his boxers while the other cupped the back of your head, guiding you towards his already hard member.

"Open," he muttered sternly, his fingers raking through the hair at the nape of your neck as he eased his dick into your mouth, halting his movements once his tip reached the back of your throat. "Good girl, take it all for me."

Your lips closed around him, moaning as he began a steady pace of thrusting into your mouth. Both of his hands were tangled into your locks now, using them as leverage while he fucked your throat. Your palm grasped at his jean-clad thigh, your nails digging into the rough denim as he shoved his dick farther and farther. As much as you would allow.

"Fucking take it," he said through gritted teeth, harsh grunts ripping through his throat as your eyes began to water. You continued to look up at him, watching his face contort with pleasure while he used you like a fuckdoll, strings of saliva pooling out of the corners of your mouth.

You were practically soaked through your panties by the time he came down your throat with an aggressive tug on your hair, shoving you down so far on his cock that your nose brushed with the small tuft of hair along his pubic bone.

You pulled off of him with a gasp. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath and wipe away the streaks of mascara from your cheeks stained from tears. He couldn't get enough of how you were like putty in his hands, abiding by whatever he told you with such compliance.

"Good job, sweetheart,' he said in a softer manner. "Might not have to kill you after all."

Your stomach felt like it had caved in at his words, your eyes widening as he tugged the t-shirt over his head. But the threat still made your core throb, your thighs clenching together in response.

"Take your clothes off," he demanded, watching you carefully as you slowly unbuttoned your shirt. Your fingers trembled as you tugged your shorts down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments as he finally crouched down to your level.

You lay back on the dirty mattress, watching his hand as it reached into his back pocket to reveal a large pocket knife. It flipped open, glinting sharply in the light as he brought the blade to the supple skin of your neck. The metal was cool against your warm skin, making a shiver run down your spine.

His eyes danced across your lustful expression, his heart pounding from the thrill that surged through his body. He had you right where he wanted you, the blade slowly running down your chest before stopping at your sternum and hooking under the band of your bra.

You couldn't take your eyes away from him, eager to see what he would do next. With one swift movement, he ripped the knife right through the lacy fabric, tearing your bra at the front to reveal your chest. You watched his eyes dilate at the sight of your breasts, a low groan falling from his lips.

The blade trailed down your stomach, Cooper dragging the sharp point against your skin as it moved lower to your hips. His eyes were dark as he did the same with your panties as he did your bra, cutting them off of you with such aggression that you couldn't help but moan.

"Please, fuck me," you gasped, impatience taking over you as Cooper took in your naked appearance. You didn't realize he had nicked you in the process of removing your underwear, the crimson blood running down your hip thickly.

"You want me to fuck you?" he taunted, expressionless. His thumb smeared the blood around on your smooth skin, satisfied with the way it stained you. His large hand then gripped the back of your knee, pulling you closer to him and making you slide all the way down onto your back with your thighs on either side of his hips.

You only whined, needy for his touch. You didn't care how pathetic you seemed.

"I'll fuck you," he said with an aggravated tone. He quickly gripped your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach so you were trapped face down between his large body and the mattress. "I'll fuck you like the whore you are and you're gonna take it like a good girl, understand?"

His hand was in your hair once more, pulling your head back for you to look at him.

"Yes!" you sobbed, tears falling from your eyes as you ground your ass back against his crotch to get some sort of friction, which only angered him further. He shoved your head back down against the mattress, his free hand grasping his dick to line himself up with your entrance before shoving himself into you without warning.

"Yes, what?" he pried, his lips right at your ear as he pinned your body down with his.

"Yes, Daddy! I'll be your good girl I promise!" you cried, a raspy moan ripping from your throat once he finally thrust into you again, his hips beginning a slow but hard rhythm of fucking you. You reeled with pleasure, ecstatic with the feeling of his thick cock pounding your slick cunt over and over again.

With each brush of his tip against your cervix you thought you were done for, your thighs beginning to tremble as his pace quickened.

"That's it," he groaned, pulling you up from your vulnerable position by your hair, your back tight against his toned chest. "Taking all of me so good."

His arm snaked around your neck, locking your head in the crook of his elbow and tightening it. Your hands grasped at his forearm, your nails digging into his skin as he took the air right out of your lungs with each flex of his muscle.

"P-Please," you gasped, becoming scared as your mind went fuzzy and your vision blurred. He still continued his hard thrusts but ultimately loosened his grip on you after a few moments of torture.

You tiredly flopped back down to the mattress once he let go of you, his hands gripping your hips to gain more leverage as his thrusts became quicker and more sporadic. You could tell he was getting close to his release, but still had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

"You're not giving up on me yet, are you, baby?" he rasped, stilling his movements to flip you over onto your back one final time, before regaining his harsh pace.

You shook your head in response as you were unable to form coherent words—only disgruntled moans and pants that were music to his ears.

His rough hands gripped your leg and threw it over his shoulder to pound into you at a deeper angle, which had the coil in your stomach unraveling by the second. You were nearly there as well, your core clenching around him desperately. His hands moved to their rightful spot on your neck, restricting your airflow once again.

"Fuck me, Daddy," you moaned, making intense eye contact with him as he continued to drill into you. "Fuck me full of your cum!"

Your words made him shudder, his hips stuttering as he ultimately tipped over the edge of pleasure and came deep inside of you.

You let yourself succumb to your orgasm at the sound of his deep, guttural groan as he came, clawing at his muscular back (which was sure to leave marks) to bring yourself back to reality.

You lay limp on the mattress as he pulled himself from your used cunt with a hiss. You felt brain-dead, overwhelmed with the memory of his cock using you to no end. Your teary eyes met his, and all he could do was smile down at your fucked-out expression.

"Don't look at me like that, baby. We're only getting started."

tags ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ @one-of-thewalkingdead @acidqueensstuff @dirtylittlefairytales @rosaleelovesdilfs @lickit-up @prozacwhorehouse @lilly3434 @hereforthehitsbaby @redpillbluepill @iloveanthonyramos @littlered0000 @rubyfruitjungle @katyushakoschenka @queenofgotham2316 @pastelpinkflowerlife @angelsgalore @strangererotica @lustkitty69 @ajs-222 @coopers-bunny @a-movie-that-youve-never-seen @cattt777

#josh hartnett #trap #cooper adams #cooper adams x reader #cooper adams smut #scarlet was here!

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oval3000 · 1 year ago

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Yandere CEO Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warning: Toxic behavior, age gap, Violence, death, daddy kink, very toxic, smut, porn with a little plot, grumpy Miguel. Modern au- ish. The reader understands Spanish.

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Prologue: Your mother was the type of mother who would move from boyfriend to boyfriend. She could never keep a man on her hip for a long period of time, which was one of the reasons why your father was hardly present (he passed away when you were young anyway). Every time she got a boyfriend, she would forget that you're her daughter and would always choose the man over you. When she told you about her new boyfriend, you were over it. Nothing's new here. When you first met Miguel, you honestly didn't bother to learn a lot about him or to remember his name; however, he stuck the longest. You were quite surprised when you saw him more often. When you entered your freshman year of college, that's when she announced that Miguel wanted the both of you to move in with him.

You weren't too thrilled, but you were happy that your mom was getting serious about this. Besides, Miguel seems to be a nice gentleman. As the CEO of a science company, it was very impressive that your mom caught someone like him. He had manners and was humble about his success. He wasn't the type of rich man who would spend a lot of time partying and drinking; he was laid-back and spent more time in his office. You also hardly ever see him smile. Not seeing him smile made you wonder about the relationship between him and your mom. Three months after moving in, your mom's old habits came back. She would go out and party with her friends. She would drink wine every now and then. You know she makes bad choices when she drinks alcohol, so when you saw her coming home late and drunk, you were disappointed. She acted like a high school girl, which made you feel embarrassed. A lot of people would tell you to give your mom a break and that having a child can be difficult, so you shouldn't judge a mother for having 'fun'. But when you were little, she was late to pick you up from school because she was too busy at the mall with her friends; it made you feel unnoticed. Or when she would miss your school events when they gave you an award for what you're good at because she was too hungover from last night's fun; it made you feel unwanted. Or when one of her boyfriends dragged you outside of the house because you didn't want to leave so they could have some 'alone time' and your mom yelled at you for not listening, it made you feel unloved. Sure, moms have a right to live their lives, but they also have a responsibility to care for their children.

Your mother never really had a job growing up; the both of you relied on money from the man she would be with. This caused your grandparents to yell at your mom when you were little, telling her that she needed to grow up and get a job. Your mom would reply by saying that she never chose this life, and now that she's in it, she could do whatever she pleases. So to be fair, it's not that shocking that she got involved with a rich guy like Miguel.

Sadly, you can say that your concerns were right. You were in your bedroom. After a year of staying at a luxurious house, you are now sitting in your new bed, hearing an argument between your mother and her boyfriend downstairs. The first time you ever heard them argue was at the moment Miguel caught your mom sleeping with other men.

"You're working all the time, so obviously I'm going to get bored here!" your mother yelled at Miguel.

"Oh, so sleeping with other men while I provide for you is totally acceptable, my bad," Miguel argued back.

"Please is not like you would do the same!" Your mom's hands were flying in the air.

He pointed to her with his eyebrows forward and his eyes getting dark. "No, I wouldn't! Unlike you, I have morals."

"Really!? How about that day I caught you doing you know what!" Ah, yes. The day she caught him doing something quite interesting. "Oh whatever, I'm going out. Besides I have a new man who knows how to pleasure me." You could hear the front door slam loudly. Did your mom leave? Did she leave without telling you? Did she leave you alone with her now ex-boyfriend? Is Miguel no longer in your life?

You looked out and saw, with the little opening from your door, Miguel going back and forth from his bedroom back downstairs. You really make out what you can see, but it was clear that he was carrying out suitcases. Most likely your mom's things. Does this mean you have to move out as well? Do you need to start packing? You got up from your bed as Miguel was entering back to his bedroom pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did my mom leave."

He turned around giving you the usual expression he has. "Um....y-yeah she did."

"I'm sorry, I'll leave as soon as possible I'll just pack my things." You were about to enter your room when Miguel stopped you.

"No!" You stopped your tracks and turned to him. "no...I mean. Stay. I don't know where your mom left and I won't like it if you're out there alone. So stay."

You gave him a nod, "O-okay."

It's been five months since your mother left you with her ex-boyfriend. You tried contacting her, but all the calls and text messages were left hanging. You have no clue where she went. Did she actually forget about you? Was she so caught up with her own drama that she forgot about her daughter? Yes, you're an adult, but she left you living with a stranger.

The communication between you and Miguel has been dry. Well, they're always dry. At times during dinner, it would be quiet that no one spoke. Most times, while he's busy at his office, it'll just be you eating alone. You immediately felt guilty that you were using his money, so you quickly got a part-time job so you didn't have to rely on him. You don't really plan to live with him forever, right?

One day after you finished your classes, you decided to go on an apartment hunt. You really felt more comfortable moving out. You have no business living there. Luckily, you're able to find a small, affordable place to live. Not ideal, but you'll take whatever seems fit.

It was close to your college and it was perfect for one person, which is all you need.

When you went back, you couldn't seem to hide the happy smile on your face that you couldn't see Miguel sitting on the couch in the living room." What are you so happy about?" He questioned.

His voice caught you off guard it made you jump a bit. "sorry, I didn't see you there. Um...I found a place to live, so I would be out of your hair soon." You placed your book bag down on the floor.

He got up from the grey leather slate couch and walked towards you. His white dress shirt could barely hide all his muscles, especially with a few buttons undone, revealing more of his tanned chest. "You didn't have to do that, mi amor."

"Well, I can't live here forever and you are going to move on soon so-" You couldn't even finish your sentence.

"When I told you to stay, I meant it." His hand caressed the side of your arm. " Estas tan hermorsa, mi amor. (You're so beautiful, my love)." He grabbed your chin to lift your head up so your eyes could meet his. His touch made you feel some type of way. His serious look made you feel something. You shouldn't feel this. This isn't okay. He shook his head lightly, "How can you afford your own place?"

"I- I got a part-time job and I've been saving up." You took a step back, but only for him to follow you more in. "I just don't see why I have to stay here. My mom is not here and the only reason why I'm here is because of her."

"Let me take care of you." He leans in closer to you. "Let me be with you." His last words were a faint whisper that you couldn't hear it well.

"Miguel, I don't think this is appropriate?" You moved your head to the side, walking away from him. "It's best if I move. I don't think this is right."

"Stay." He says.

"No, I can't." You reply to him with his back turned to you.

He turned to you. "Please stay."

You looked around the house. "It's the best for the both of us if I move out of here. One day, you'll get a girlfriend." Miguel closed his eyes and shook his head."..And..I'll get a boyfriend."

He quickly made his eye gaze to look at you and with a swift speed, he walked up to you. "Boyfriend?" His speed made lose your breath a bit. Your body tense up at how tall his structure is. "Is that why you wanted to move out? You have a boyfriend."

You looked at him confused. Why does he seem bothered by this? you thought. "huh?- No. I mean, not now at least. But I will eventually. Just like how you'll get a new partner."

"No. I won't allow that to happen." He grabbed the side of your arms a bit harshly.

"M-Miguel?" You breathed out.

"You aren't moving out. You aren't leaving here, and you're certainly not going to have a fucking boyfriend." Miguel leaned into your ear saying all of these things to you and you felt completely frozen.

You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him off a bit so you could get out of his strong grip. You walked away from him so far that you felt the big bookcase behind your back. "What's the matter with you! You're my mom's ex-boyfriend. You're older than me. You aren't the boss of me and you are not going to shove me around like the others!" You felt your eyes get glossy. Your eyes opened wide with now hearing everything you had said. You shouldn't treat him like this. He has given you shelter and food. Without him offering you to stay, you'll be homeless right now. "I...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to"

Miguel felt his hands forming a tight fist. "Like the others?"

"No, I don't know what I'm talking about" You palmed your head trying to fix the situation.

He walked closer to you. He didn't break eye contact with you. "Has anyone ever hurt you?" You didn't say anything back which made him frustrated. "Answer me."

You looked up and realized how close he was to you. No matter how far you get away from him, he seems to always find a way to be close to you. "N-no. It's stupid. Just forget what I said. I'll move out and none of this ever happened okay."

"It's not okay! You're. Not. Leaving. Now tell me what you mean by others or I swear I'll do something you won't love." He looked at you with anger in his eyes. He's a very intimidating man. The most intimidating man you ever met. He held your wrist with one of his hands while his eyes were filled with hatred.

You felt your body tremble with his presence." Y-yes. But it wasn't constant. It was just when one of my mom's ex-boyfriends got angry they took it out on me. It's not bad and it's not serious. Please let go of me."

Miguel took a deep breath before letting you go. "I'm not like the others."

"You sure act like them." You said, but instantly regretted it.

"Mi amor, be careful about what you're going to say next. I really, really don't want to hurt you. So please, be a good girl and do whatever I fucking tell you." Miguel lifts his chin up making his statue be more bigger and taller.

"Why can't I leave? Wouldn't it be easier if I left? I won't cause you any more problems if I leave." You plea to him trying to get reason with him.

He walked away from you, throwing his hands around. "Por dios! that's enough about you leaving! I don't want to hear it anymore!" He screamed at you making you feel weak.

"I was wrong about you. I thought that you were good, but I was wrong. You're just like her ex-boyfriends. All of you!Jerks! Now I understand why she did what she did!" You felt your body tremble with how slowly he was walking back to you.

"If you think bringing up that bitch of your mother is going to get me mad then you are wrong. I! Don't! Care! About her! I'm glad that bitch left." He towered over you, "Now, comparing me to those low-life fucking men, you really just want to push my buttons, sweetheart."

"I hate you!" You felt a small speck of tears falling down in the corner of your eyes, feeling it rolling down your cheek.

"Hate me all you want, it won't change the fact that you are staying no matter what. You aren't leaving me." He grabbed both of your wrists pulling you closer to you. He gripped your face, pinching both of your cheeks with his fingertips. "You. Are. MINE!"

He dragged you back to his bedroom. You kept kicking and screaming, but he didn't care, he kept dragging you to his bed. "Please let go of me! I'm sorry!" You begged him to let you go. He opened his bedroom door and pulled you in holding your waist. He threw you on top of the bed. He shut the door and locked it. You quickly pulled yourself together using his pillows as a shield. "Please don't hurt me! Please!" you sobbed.

He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down, sliding you near the edge of the bed. He separated your legs apart and got between them. His eye contact wasn't breaking off with you, following your head movements all around. He grabbed your face again to make you look at him more clearly. "You're gonna behave?" You nodded feeling the hot tears rolling down. "You'll do what I say. You will live here. You will become my wife and you will be mine. End of story."

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The sound of the hot oil and vegetables sizzling filled the entire kitchen. The sound of the front door opening and closing made the chef hurry and place the finished food onto two plates. The chef fixed his white apron and stood by the dining room table with the food ready to be eaten. He saw Miguel waking in wearing his black blazer with his white dress shirt. "Sir, the food is ready."

"Okay, thank you." Miguel took off his blazer letting out a sigh. Work can get complicated for Miguel, so his coming home a little tired was normal. He could hear another pair of footsteps coming closer to him. He looked to his side and saw you standing there.

You stood in front of him with your fingers fiddling with each other. "Hi." You said softly.

He leaned over, giving you a light kiss on the lips. You accepted it. You accepted a lot of things without resisting anymore. He gave a smile and peck on the cheek. "After we eat, I want to take a bath with you."

You nodded as you took your seat on the dining room table. The chef left back to the kitchen to clean up leaving you and Miguel all alone. Not the first time the both of you have been alone, but now it's different. Now you share his bed. Now you give him a kiss on the lips when he leaves for work. Now the both of you shower together and bathe together when he wants to. The first time he wanted to do this, you protested, but it only resulted in him dragging you and stripping you naked.

He hasn't been intimate with you, but you know when that time comes, your cries won't help you.

You've been with him for six months. Six months of you and him sharing a bed together. In total, you've been in the house for two years now. No word from your mother not like you cared anymore. Miguel made you take online college so you don't have to leave the house. As for the part-time job you had, Miguel had to go in and apologize that you can no longer work. Miguel being rich and successful gave him respect for his name so no one questioned him. Miguel brought in his lawyers to deal with your bank account so you can use his instead whenever you feel like it. If you want to buy clothes or shoes online or anything that you like, you can get by using his money. Recently, he's been discussing marriage licenses with his lawyers. He does want you to have a big wedding, but to make it easy, just getting your marriage license and certificate was enough.

Besides, who are you going to invite to a wedding you're being forced to.

"How was work?" You asked.

"Tiring. It would be a whole lot easier if these interns knew what they were doing instead of keeping their hands in their pants. I swear they changed the ways of teaching now. Don't know how they graduated." He swallowed his food, taking a sip of water. "Speaking of which, I talked to the administrator and they will accept you in to finish college there if you want it. Sure, it'll still be online, but you'll get the education you want." Due to your mother relying on her past boyfriends to cover her finances, you didn't exactly have the benefits of choosing your dream college. Miguel insisted for him to get you in. "Although, I don't see why you'll need it. You have me." He has told you that you won't need the degree. Why? Your future husband is filthy rich and intelligent. "How about If I gave two options. Choose to finish college or I'll give two days to go outside every week." It's been six months since you stepped foot outside. You remember the last time you were out in public. It was when you were looking for a place to live. Miguel ended up buying that entire apartment building, flipping it and now owns it. He doesn't really go there or actually work there, he just hired people to run it really. Because of this, people loved him due to his kindness in getting people jobs on top of that he gave people good homes at affordable prices. He's a real hero to the people.

Finish college or go outside two times every week. On the one hand, you want to finish your goal to finish your studies. On the other, you really wanted to go outside and finally breathe some air. what is the catch though? What's the point? If you do finish college, that degree will sit in the closet collecting dust. If you choose to go outside, what else will there be to it? Do you want a little bit of freedom you can get? Or waste your time doing something you're not going to need?

Miguel can see your head thinking of these two options. "If choose to go out, I'll hire two bodyguards to be with you at all times."

What to choose? What to pick?

The water of the bath was warm and it felt relaxing. Your back was resting on Miguel's torso. You could feel his rock-hard abs and chest. Your head rested on one of his pecks. You felt his arms embracing you. You felt the warmth of his body all over you. The last of the bubbles from the body wash went away from your body and his. The sound of water wooshing around filled the bathroom. "I want to go outside." You finally said.

Miguel smiled at you, giving you a kiss on your cheek.

The smile you had never seen before. The smile you thought that never existed on this man was now showing.

You met two bodyguards Miguel hired. They rarely spoke. They hardly made contact with you which wasn't weird. Miguel told them what they had to do while they were in his home office. You waited outside, ready to go out for the first time in six months.

When they finally got out, they took you outside. Miguel kissed you on the lips and told you to have fun.

The two guards were on your side at all times. Even when you were in the bathroom with a bunch of stalls, the female bodyguard went in with you. When any other male figure even turned their heads to you, the male bodyguard gave them a look. The two guards wore sunglasses so you don't even though the color of their eyes.

One thing for sure though, is that they noticed how you didn't buy anything during your trips to the mall or any store. They dressed this to Miguel since they had to report everything you did whenever you would go out.

Eventually, it led to Miguel talking to you. The both of you were in bed getting ready to sleep when you felt his arm wrapping around your torso. "Don't hesitate to buy anything you want. If you want it then get it, mi amor. My money is your money."

If you spend his money it means that you have accepted this fate. You've accepted him and this new life. Are you ready to accept it?

The sun was shining through making everything hot and glow. The beautiful tiles on the floor and little square pots with trees in every other corner and center. People walk by with their shopping bags looking for their store to shop in. The outside mall is probably one of your favorite spots. Look at you, just like your mother. The two guards by your side, walking along with you. The only thing you got was a pretzel. You don't know what you want? Why are you there in the first place?

You offered your pretzal bites to the guards, but they didn't accept it. They're really serious about this then. You ended up seeing a nice jacket on display. It was a jacket perfect for your style. You entered in looking for it. When you finally found it you checked the price and cringed at how expensive it was for you. Do you really need to spend that kind of money on a jacket? Are you even going to wear it?

You let your mind turn off and your body control you. You grabbed the jacket from the rack and made your way to the front counter. The cashier asked you if you found everything okay and you replied yes. When she said the total, you grabbed the card that Miguel gave you and pressed it on the little card reader. When the machine said 'approved' you sighed with how dumb this decision might've been. You walked out of the store and told the guards that you were ready to go home.

Little did you know that one of your mom's friends saw you walking out?

When you got home, Miguel asked you how the trip to the mall was and the guard told them everything that you did. He then asked to see you wear the jacket. You put on the jacket and showed it to him. He got up from his chair and got closer to you. He palmed your cheek and pulled your face to kiss you on the lips. "It looks gorgeous, mi amor. You look gorgeous."

"I might return it." Still not satisfied with the choice you made. Are you ready for this?

"Why?" He questioned.

"I might not even wear it." You said back to him.

"You could wear it to our first date." He said.

He never took you out on an actual date. He's been too busy with trying to get you used to your life. However, since you have been good lately, he felt like it was ready to take you out somewhere special. "Date?"

"Yes. I want to take you. So, tomorrow, I'll come home early, we'll get ready and enjoy ourselves." He kissed your cheek, tracing his lips closer to your ear. "I want our first time to be special."

You had a hard time sleeping. You kept replaying the things he said to you in his office. When you finally shut your eyes, morning already come. Miguel left early for work so you didn't wake up with him by your side. You had your breakfast that the chef prepared. You went back to the bedroom, walking past your old bedroom that you stayed in. Miguel turned it into a regular guest bedroom or an empty bedroom for future 'family members.' You go through your side of the walk-in closet and pick out an outfit (Whatever style outfit fits you). You laid it out on the bed and started to feel a bit nervous.

You never had a man to treat like this. Is it bad? Is it good? He shut you out from the world and forced you to be with him. Should you be grateful? Is Miguel a complete psycho?

You're going to spend a special night with him. Your first time with him. You never thought it would be him. Yes, he's fit and handsome. Yes, he has everything a woman wants. Yes, he's caring and he's caring to you. Are you ready though?

As hours pass you finally got up and took a shower. You get ready, putting on your shoes that match the outfit perfectly. By the time you finished, Miguel already got home and took a shower. You waited in the living room fiddling with your fingers. Picking a bit of skin in your cuticles. If you had a purse, you would clutch onto the straps. Miguel has mentioned that you don't need to carry a purse when you're with him because he has all you need.

When he got out, he was wearing a dark navy blazer with pants that matched, a white dress shirt, and a red tie. His hair was slick back as usual. You stood up. "eres una belleza, mi amor." he said to you.

He took your hand and led you out of the house and into the back of his black SUV. He sat right next to you with his hand on your thigh. On the ride, you hardly spoke. It was just Miguel talking to you about the place you guys are going. You did wonder where he was going to take you.

When you got out of the car, you saw a big helicopter in front of you. The nervousness came back. You never done this before. You clutched to Miguel's arm for comfort. Really, the only comfort you have. "Don't be scared. I'll be right next to you."

He led you inside the helicopter with his help. You put on the headset and strap in the seat belt. Miguel was talking to the helicopter pilot. The pilot is a dear friend of Miguel and is the one to take Miguel wherever he needs. Miguel pointed out the view by your side and told you to look. When you did, you were in awe at how beautiful it was. All the lights blend in. The sunset setting down. It was amazing.

When the stop was made, Miguel helped you out of the helicopter by grabbing your waist and lifting you down. He held your hand as he guided you inside the big fancy restaurant. The restaurant looked like the inside of a Victorian opera house. You won't be surprised if it was one. The hostess said hi to Miguel and took the both of you into a nice room with a nice round table with a white cloth. It was perfectly decorated. All the staff talked to Miguel as if he was a regular here. Again, you won't be surprised if he comes here often. The hostess handed you the menu, even the menu was fancy. The first thing you did notice was the prices. The prices were through the roof. Not even a side salad was affordable. Do the ingredients have magic powers or something? You thought.

"What're you getting?" Miguel asked, placing the many down on the table. The sound of light jazz music played throughout the restaurant and it sounded like it was live.

"I'm getting (Whatever you want)" You looked out trying to take a peek through the red velvet curtains.

"They're playing jazz on the first floor. They bring in jazz players or pianists to play for the people here. Sometimes an orchestra." He said.

You took a sip of your water admiring the architecture of the place that you are in. When the waiter came in, you told him what you wanted, the same with Miguel. Soon, the both of you are eating the most delicious food you have ever tasted in your life.

"Delicious right?" Miguel saw the way you were enjoying it. You nodded in response. "Five years ago, I went here with some business partners to talk about expanding the way science should be taught. When I first tasted the food, I fell in love with it."

"Your past girlfriends must've been happy being here." You said, softly.

"No. I never took any of my ex-girlfriends here. This is a special place for me. I wanted to bring someone who I knew would enjoy it with me forever. That person is you." He went to grab the check that the waiter put down and put his black card inside, handing it back to the waiter.

He took you back out and enjoyed the night and the stars riding the helicopter. He griped on your thigh as you gripped on his biceps. The wind was nice and it wasn't too harsh so it didn't ruin your hair, but the air felt nice on your skin.

Back home, the lights were dimmed. He started to guide back to the bedroom. This is when you felt fear. You forgot about this part. You were enjoying yourself so much that you forgot the other part of the date. He turned your back to him and started to take off your jacket that you just bought. He held your waist sliding his hand up and down.

He then started to shift your clothes off your body until you were left with your undergarments. He turned you around so you can face him. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and began to take off his clothes. He tugged his red tie and threw on one of the armchairs, unbuttoned his dress shirt, unbuckled his belt, and zipped his pants. When he was in his briefs, you felt your heart racing.

He went in and kissed your neck. leaving trails of wet kisses all over your collarbone. You felt his fingers trying to unhook your bra, but you quickly grabbed his arms to stop him. "Wait. I don't think I can do this."

He stopped kissing you and pulled away to look at you. "Why?"

Why? Is he serious? Why? "Because I don't want it." You saw him placing his hand on his forehead and his other hand on his waist. "Because you're my mom's ex-boyfriend."

"Ay, que caramba! Por dios! ya estoy harto que tu siempre mencionas esto!" He yelled at you. "I don't love her! I don't care about her! She never meant anything to me!" He bent over and hovered over you, "When I first met her, I wasn't planning on being with her. I didn't like her. But when she introduced you to me, I realized who was meant for me."

"Me?" Your eyes widened with what he just confessed.

"Yes! you! It was a pain to sleep next to her knowing that you were in the other room. It was a pain when she gave me a kiss on the lips when you were sitting there watching. I felt heartbroken for you. For you to see it." His eyes were lighted, " So, I worked long hours so I could avoid her. Never meant to avoid you. It worked because when I found out that she slept with other men, it was enough for me to kick her out."

"I don't understand?" Why not just kick her out before?

"I have control, I do. But when you are there, I can't help myself." Miguel remembered the day your mother caught him jerking off while moaning your name. It was the first argument they actually had without you there. You were attending your college course classes during all of this, so how would you know this happened. Your mother was angry. More angry at you for catching his attention than her. It made sense since he never showed any actual interest in your mother, especially in bed. She also felt embarrassed as well that he was more interested in you than her. So she told Miguel that she would leave and take you far away from him, but he didn't want that. If he kicked her out then she would take you with her. However, when he caught her in bed with another man it was enough to get back at her. He knew that she was money-hungry for men, that she'd choose them over you. So when she found her new toy, she was already on her way out. "I never slept with her, If that's what you're worried about? I never did. Most nights I slept in the armchair so I wouldn't be in the same bed as her. At times I would sleep on the couch and leave for work early."

"So..this entire time you wanted..." You felt so dumb to not notice all the signs. There were no signs at all.

"You. I wanted you. Now that I have you here. Sleeping in the same bed as me, I'm not going to let you go. EVER! I want to marry you, kiss you, make love to you, have kids with you, grow old with you. I want you. I need you. I'll kill anyone and anything that gets in our way." He went on and kissed you deeply. He moved you more onto the bed.

He yanked your bra off your body. He started to massage your breast with his large hands. He gripped the line of your panties and pulled them down. He ignored you. Ingorned your cries to stop. It was so into his own head, he didn't hear your plea.

He pulled down his briefs, feeling his cock hardened. He spread your legs apart and starts to circle your clit. He inserted his finger inside and started to pump in and out. He felt the inside of your walls. When he did enough to get you wet, he inserted his cock inside you. He nuzzled in your neck, kissing you, and leaving hickeys all over your collarbone and neck. He let his cock rest inside your pussy for a while so you can get used to his size. He knows that he's big, so he wanted to make sure that you take him well. The pain was through as you dug your nails on his back. Maybe you should enjoy it? You should be grateful.

He moved his hips slowly, moving back and forth. Soon the pace began to fasten. The sound of the bed creaking filled the room. The sound of his grunts and moans entered into your ear. "Fuck. Yes..ahh..mhm~" He placed his hand on the sides of your head and thrust inside you harder and faster. "You're gonna make me cum, baby."

His balls were slapping your ass as he lifted your waist off the bed and fucked you in harder than ever. Your thighs were vibrating with how fast he was going. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed in the room. When he felt like he was going to ejaculate, he embraced you into him, and you felt your breast against his own muscle pecks. "Ah! Fuck! Take my cum, sweetheart." He felt his semen injecting inside you. He felt your womb being filled up that some of his cum spilled out and ran down his balls. You held on to him tight feeling your body being filled up by him. Your thighs shook with how hard he fucked you. Your tears were now dried up and your sobs turned into slight whimpers. You felt your face heating up. An older man just took your virginity. You felt ashamed, but good at the same time.

"I'm not done with you, mi amor." He huffed as the last drop of cum left his still-rocked hard cock. He sat down on the bed and pulled you on top of him. You sat between his legs as he spread your legs apart once more. His fingers went down and started to play with your clit. You covered your mouth to stop you from moaning, but it angered Miguel. "Don't! I wanna hear you, querida"

"M-Miguel...Ahh~ mmm..." You felt his fingers flicking your clit and rubbing it slowly. You wanted him to go faster. His other hand went and groped your breast, he pinched your nipple while rubbing your throbbing clit. "It...Ahhh! it feels good, Miguel! Ahhh~....mmm~...faster please."

"Want me to go faster?" the tip of his finger was gently circling your clit that was begging for him to get abused.

"Yes! Mmmm~....Yes! Please!" Your head was thrown back at the feeling of his touch.

"Yes what, mi amor?" He pinched your clit and moved it side to side, slowly.

"Yes!...oh god!...Mhmmm~...ngh..faster!...." You felt your lips opening your pussy with the amount of pleasure you are feeling. The wetness filled all over your area. You felt wetness and some of his cum leaking out to the bed. Miguel's thought of you squirting all over the bed turned him on even more. The bed filled with your juices made him more horny than ever. You felt his rock-hard cock on your back. It didn't help that with his movements he was making towards your clit was making you squirm your back, rubbing his cock in the process. "Please.. go faster...Ahh!...Ngh...yes Daddy~."

With that, he rubbed your clit at a fast speed. "Like this, mi amor."

Your pussy was getting wet and wet with each orgasm you were having. "Yes..Ahh!..ooh!..mmm~!"

Sweat was dripping down your face and body. "This pussy is so good. I'm gonna fucking abuse this pussy. Yes, baby. Yeah~." He slapped your clit a couple times which caused a few leaks to spray out.

"Yes! Yes!~" Your eyes were closed shut. Your breath was losing control.

"Who's this pussy belong to." He slapped your clit one more time. "Is this daddy's pussy baby..yeah. Fuck! Your so fucking wet." He slapped your entire pussy feeling the wetness on his hand. He rubbed your clit even more but would stop just to see it twitch. "This clit is so juicy. This belongs to me. Look at it throb. Fuck! You're driving me insane amor!"

Soon you felt like you were going to explode. You didn't care about the mess, you wanted the pleasure to continue. You arched your back and felt your pussy squirting all over the bed sheets. A pool of your juices formed under your ass cheeks.

It didn't stop. It never stopped. He inserted his fingers inside you again and played with your walls. He wasn't pumping in and out, he was rubbing your walls on the inside. He opened your pussy even more and you felt another gush of your juices squirting out again. The bed sheets were drenched with all your juices. "It's like a waterfall." He continued to rub your red clit more. He would lick his fingers and go on to flick your clit.

"Oh god! Ahh! Ahh!~" You felt his entire palm rubbing it.

"I want to taste you." He grabbed your clit and abused it even more making you squirt all over.

He picked you up and placed you on the armchair. He kneeled down and spread your legs. He saw a good view of your pussy he began to dive in. He licked you all over. "Fuck! It's so good! Don't stop! Don't stop...oh~" you screamed out. You gripped his head and felt his tongue flicking more of your clit. He felt a small spray of your juices landing on his face. He can't get enough. He wanted to drown in it. "Yes! Fuck me! Daddy! Fuck me! This pussy is yours!" Another gush of squirt left your body. Miguel went in and drank as much of it as he could.

He told you to kneel on the floor and you did. He sat down on the armchair and told you to open your mouth. When you did, he shoved his cock inside your mouth.

You looked at him and felt the warmth of his cock down your throat. He bobbed your head up and down moaning. "Fuck!...you like sucking my cock baby...shit!...mmm~...oh fuck." It didn't take too long for him to cum inside your mouth. He pulled out and let the rest of his cum spray all over your face. "Ahh~...shit....look at you...covered with my semen...Open your mouth, mi amor." You did. You showed him the cum inside your mouth. "Swallow it~"

He wanted to cover you with more of his cum so he started to jerk off. "Touch yourself. I want you to touch yourself, mi amor."

You sat on the floor and spread your legs to show him your full view of your sensitive spot. You never touched yourself before. You picked on your clit and felt it warm and wet. You went all out and fingered your clit with your hand while the other was keeping you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head back. "Look at me. I want to see you." Miguel said, feeling his balls bouncing up and down. You looked at him, biting your lip, feeling tears going down with how good the pleasure was. Your legs couldn't stop shaking with how much you're stimulated. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you felt more squirt coming out of you. You came too early that you wanted to insert a finger inside you. So you ignored that cum and shoved a finger inside. You never felt the inside of your walls. The fact that Miguel was watching it was making you act crazy. "Good girl. Fuck...you're such a good girl.." He huffed and swallowed the little bit of saliva in his mouth. He felt cum about to come out, but he stopped himself making him edge.

You played with your pussy, digging inside and rubbing your walls until you found your g-spot. Your legs tremble as your fingers got covered with more of your own cum. A pool formed on the floor filled with pussy juice.

Miguel moaned out as cum sprayed out of his penis and covered your face.

You don't know how long the two of you were at. He came inside you three more times and made you squirt so many times, you felt your legs going numb.

You don't remember the rest of the night. When you woke up, you felt fresh new bedsheets over you. Your skin felt clean and smooth. When you tried to get out of bed, your legs felt so sore that you couldn't budge.

You heard the bedroom door open and saw Miguel in nothing but sweatpants. "Good morning, mi amor" He was carrying a tray of food and brought it to your side.

"What time is it?" You asked.

"It's already noon. I woke up thirty minutes ago." He placed the tray on your lap.

"You didn't go to work?" You took a sip of the water, feeling your body getting hydrated.

"Why would I go to work after the night we both had." He smiled remembering all of the things you both had done. "Last night..was the best night I ever had. I love you."

He loves you. "I don't..I don't remember what else happened..how-"

He let out a small chuckle, "it's alright, cariño. I changed the bedsheets and gave the both of us a bath. When I put you back on the bed, you immediately knocked out. You were so tired mi vida. Next time I'll go gentle on you, I'm sorry."

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It's been a few days since that night. Everything went back to how it was. Miguel was more physical with you. The two guards were still there when you wanted to go out.

Eventually, Miguel told you that he wanted to take you where he works that way you could have a feel for what he does. He never brought it anyone personal, or anyone at all. So when people saw him bringing you, they were shocked. He showed you all of the building and what exactly each person does. For someone who works at a very large building with many, many people, he has a good memory of the names of his employees.

Miguel had to excuse himself to you when he was called into an important meeting. You went and saw a vending machine outside the cafeteria and decided to get yourself a little snack. You were about to put in some quarters from your pocket when you heard another male voice behind you. You turned around and a guy wearing a lab coat and his name tag on the little pocket of the coat. "Sorry." You moved to the side, but he followed along. You looked to your sides and saw no one around.

"What a pretty girl like you doing here?" The guy said.

"Um..my boyfriend brought me here." You said.

"Boyfriend? Always the pretty ones get taken. So who's the lucky guy? Or are you just lying?" You excused yourself and started to walk away.

He ran up to you, "So what's your name?" He said.

"Why?" You questioned.

"Can't I know the pretty girl's name?" He said in almost an offended tone.

"I have to go." You walked a bit faster, but you could hear his footsteps getting closer to you. You didn't want to cause any trouble, especially at Miguel's work.

You also certainly didn't want to make Miguel mad. Everything was going good, you didn't want to anger him.

Your prayers have been heard because the two guards came and told the guy to basically fuck off. You never thought you would be happy to see your two guards. "Please don't tell Miguel about this. I don't want him to worry. I don't want to cause trouble. Please."

They didn't reply, which was the usual for them to do, but you hoped that they'd listen.

When Miguel finished his meeting, he met up with you and the two of you went back home together.

You thought that the two guards kept the secret because Miguel never mentioned it. He didn't really need to. That guy won't bother you ever again.

While the both of you were enjoying dinner, the doorbell rang. You looked at Miguel who looked back at you confused.

Who's here at this time?

Miguel went to answer it and saw someone he never thought he'd see. "What are you doing here?"

The woman rolled her eyes and made her way inside the home. "You'd think I'll just leave? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers.

You made your way to the front door and saw her. Your mother.

You can tell she changed her looks..again. Your mother looked at you and gave you a disgusted look. "So it is true. You're with her!"

"What are you talking about?" Miguel asked.

"A little birdy told me that she was out shopping at an expensive store." She crossed her arms. "I know she doesn't have money and knowing you and that weird fantasy you had, made me think? Has he really gone all out and started a relationship with my daughter?"

"I'm not your daughter." You said with hatred in your eyes. You had enough of her behavior. Of her stupidity. Of her immaturity.

"Whores don't get to talk!" She screamed at you.

"Don't call her that! The only whore here is you!" Miguel screamed back at her. You went behind Miguel, holding his arm.

"Please! Because of her you lost interest in me! Because of her! Our relationship ended." She yelled.

"Mi amor, go to the room. I'll handle this okay." Miguel told you. You didn't want to but also didn't want to disobey him. You nodded and went to your guy's shared bedroom. You shut the door and climbed on top of the bed.

Miguel stormed up to her with his face fuming with anger. " There was no relationship, you fucking bitch. Me and you never existed. I was only using you to get close to (Y/N). The only one I care about is her. The only one I love is her. You are nothing to me." He saw her hand raising up and swinging forward towards the side of his face, but he saw right through. He caught her hand mid-air, "Don't you fucking dare."

She yanked away from his grip. "I'll tell people about you and her. I'll tell people how you are forcing a young 20-year-old to be in a relationship with you. I wonder how the people are gonna say that a guy in his late 30s is with a young girl without her consent?" She smeared a smirk on her face. "After all, I'm her mother, so people are most likely gonna say 'oh, poor her. She's looking after her daughter from a disgusting man. I Can't believe someone like Miguel O'Hara would do that.' What do you think?"

"I'll make sure to make your life a living fucking hell, you disgusting piece of shit!" His tone was deep and dark and your mom thought she was speaking with the devil.

"Me? Disgusting? At least I didn't masturbate at the thought of a young girl. So let's weigh our options." She looked around at the big fancy house that she used to call home. "You go back to provide for me and I'll let you and that thing I call a daughter to continue dating or whatever the relationship is. Or! I'll tell people about this and ruin your reputation. I mean who would the people believe. Two poor women crying for help or a rich man who got exposed for being a perverted old man."

"So that's what this is all about. Money. What? Did your boyfriend finally realize what a whore you are and left your ass!?" He exclaimed. "You can tell people whatever you want. (Y/N) will never take your side. You heard her! You are not her mother. All the things you had done to her, you really think she will defend on your honor. The only thing she'll do is expose your ass on how much of a terrible mother you are. Uh? Let's see. let's weigh our options." He said mimicking her. " You get the fuck out of my house and never show your face here again. Or we'll expose how you neglected your own daughter for your own benefits and you let other men emotionally abuse her and how you left her alone here with me. I'll tell me people that I gave her a place to live because her own mother was too selfish that she didn't care she was going to make her own daughter homeless."

"She'll listen to me. She'll do what I say. She always does. Deep down, she wants what's best for her mother. What? You think that wasn't the only time she had said that. Please, she throws those tantrums all the time, and in the end, she will always be by my side." She tilted her head," So." She looked at him from top to bottom. "I'll take a check every two weeks. Maybe around 5,000 dollars. Obviously, I'll ask for more later on. That's all I'm asking. Or else, I'll take her away from you."

She turned around with a smile on her face. "Tell (Y/N) I said goodbye."

Miguel couldn't even hear what had been said. Everything was turned into an echo. The fact that she can take you away. Everything Miguel wanted was going to be taken away from him. He felt his blood boil with anger. He felt the hatred increase towards her and he didn't hesitate to grab a mimick mini statue of David sitting on one of the tables. With one swing, he smacked the statue on her head. It caused her to fall down on the floor. Miguel looked at the statue and saw blood on the corner from the base. He looked over on the floor and saw her lifeless body. A pool of blood formed around her corpse. Miguel tapped her with his foot to see if she was still alive, but there was no movement. He didn't freak out. He didn't panic. He smiled. He smiled that she was finally gone.

You waited for Miguel to come in and tell you what had happened. What did she want?

It felt like ages waiting for him.

At last, he finally entered the room. He looked a bit rough. His shirt was half unbuttoned and dirt spots showed on his white shirt. "What happened? What did she want? Why are you dirty?" You questioned. You had so many questions.

"She just wanted some money, I gave her a few hundred dollar bills and told her to never come here again. She was a bit angry but accepted the fact that she couldn't do anything." He explained, taking off his shoes.

"What happened to your shirt and pants?" You pointed it out.

"Well, she stormed off and crushed a couple of the roses out front. I went out and replaced them. That's why I took too long." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.

"She's not coming back?" You asked.

"No. I told her that if she showed her face here again, I'd call the police. I guess that got her scared. It's most likely she's leaving the country or something. She told me she found a new man, so we won't be seeing her." He looked at you and saw how you were tearing up. "Mi Amor? Que tienes?" He got on the bed and crawled to you. He wiped away a tear falling down from the corner of your eye with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's stupid." You couldn't help but let a low sob escape your lips.

"It's not stupid if you're crying. Tell me. I can help you." He said in a concerned tone.

"It's...it's just that...she's my mom. She's my mom and she never cared about me. She never did. Why didn't she love me? What did I do wrong?" You cried to him.

Miguel went over and pulled you into a hug. You sobbed on his chest. He caressed your hair and arms. "Ya mi vida. Forget about her okay. She doesn't deserve your tears. Hey, it's her loss okay. She was never grateful to have a beautiful and kind daughter like you. Any other mother would be happy to have you as a daughter."

"Really?" You looked at him with your glossy eyes.

"Of course, mi vida." He wiped the last tears on your face. "I'm grateful to have you in my arms. You might've not received love from her, but I'll give you all the love and care you deserve. I'll never leave you. I'll love you till the day we die."

You spent the night sleeping in his arms.

Miguel couldn't help but smile at the sight he was seeing. You are finally his. His and forever.

It might've taken a while and a few hardships, but his goal was finally accomplished.

He saved you from a heartache.

He is a hero we all deserve and need.

(That's all. Not sure if I want to continue this story, soooo maybe oneshot?)

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #yandere miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel ohara #miguel atsv #astv miguel #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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ariestrxsh · 4 months ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚_____________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⁭ ⁭

⁭ ⁭⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, lap dance, role play, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, praise, pussy worship, pussydrunk!matt, softdom!matt, exchange of money for sex

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You've started a job at a strip club in your town, and while you're on stage, you notice none other than Matt Sturniolo, a good friend of yours, watching you in the crowd. Neither one of you expected to run into one another here, but he approaches you as a customer and pretends he doesn't know you.

if you're looking for a chris version with a similar storyline, you can read it here 💖

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚_____________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Taste

I had just recently started my job at a local strip club, and because I was new and unsure about how the people in my life would react, I opted out of telling my friends and family about it, so instead I told everyone I got hired at a bar, which wasn't entirely false. We did serve alcohol.

It took me a few weeks to get comfortable dancing in my heels, and a month before my legs weren't sore after every shift. Having been here a little shy of six months, I was making enough money to spend on even sexier lingerie so I could bring in even more tips. I was also learning new tricks on the pole.

I liked my job honestly, and I didn't feel like there were many people who could say that. I liked the work, I liked the women I worked with, I got paid well, and I even liked a lot of the customers. I had fun teasing men and spending my time with them while they gave me money and attention. It was a nice exchange. And I felt like I was genuinely getting to know some of them, even though they weren't exactly getting to know me. I was putting on a persona, and it was usually catered to the person I was servicing at the time, but it's not like it wasn't me. It was just only one aspect of me that I amped up and played heavily into. But I loved it. I loved dressing up and playing a role that was so different from my everyday demeanor and being what these men wanted me to be. In my everyday life, I was reserved, introverted, and kept to myself most of the time, but when I was dancing, I was an exaggerated version of who I was when no one was looking. My fantasies, my sexual desire, an alter ego if you will.

It was almost my time to go on. I reapplied my body glitter and made a few finals tweaks to my outfit. I was wearing a white sparkly corset that pushed my breasts up nicely and a matching thong as well as glass six inch heels. I had my hair down but out of my face and curly. "Give it up for Mary Jane," the announcer came on. I didn't want to use my real name at my work, so I decided on Mary Jane because it was innocent sounding and was also nothing like my real name. 'Taste' by Tyga and Offset played over the speakers, there was a spotlight on me and other lights around me flashed and changed colors, and I seductively strutted towards the pole in front of me, gripping it with one hand and doing a little spin around it. I slowly descended down the pole with my back to it until I was in a squat, looking out at the crowd of men who were eager to see my body and what it could do. I came back up and hooked one of my legs around the pole, doing a ballerina spin around it. I could feel all these eyes on me, and I gained even more confidence as the dollar bills started raining at me feet.

I made eye contact with a few customers I recognized, men who were regulars. Then my gaze scanned across a familiar face that wasn't one I usually saw in this setting. Matt Sturniolo? In a strip club? This was not his scene at all. We were decently close friends, but I certainly hadn't told him I applied here, and I didn't think it was necessary considering I didn't think I'd ever see him here. He appeared to be alone. No one I recognized was near him. And when we made eye contact, he was looking at me some sort of way I'd never been looked at by him before, like he was hungry for me. He had to have recognized me, right? I may look different with my tits pushed up to my chin, but not that different.

I focused my attention back to my dance, manipulating the attention of every man in the room, contorting my body in ways that had every man wishing they were the pole between my legs. I finished my song, collected my ones, tucked them into my corset, and carefully got down from the stage.

Once I looked up from watching my feet as I stepped off the stage, I saw Matt making his way over to me. I was really nervous about what he might say. If he'd be mad that I didn't tell him I was working here or if he'd tease me. Instead, he looked me up and down with his lust-filled blue eyes and licked his lips. "How much for a dance from you?" He asked me, smiling. He couldn't be serious. I hesitated for a second. I had never been put in a position where someone I recognized outside of the club came in and asked me for a dance.

On some level, it felt inappropriate. On another level, it felt like a bad business move to not take him up on it. "$100 for three songs," I responded nonchalantly. He casually took a $100 bill out of his wallet and tucked it into my corset with my other money. I liked the way he did that. Then he grabbed me by the waist and started walking with me towards the back of the club where he could sit down. "So, Mary Jane, did they say?" Matt asked as he sunk into his chair and looked up at me, almost as if studying the way I was gonna respond.

Was he going to pretend he didn't know me? Was this part of the fantasy, acting like we were two strangers who just met in a strip club when we're actually pretty close friends outside of this. I nodded. I turned around and began grinding on him, and he grabbed my waist in response, slowly running his fingers down my curves. "How long have you worked here, Mary Jane? Matt asked me. "Nearly six months," I replied while I shifted my weight so I was resting right against his half-hard cock. He let out a groan in response. "It's a shame I've missed you any time I've been in here," he answered. "You come here often?" I asked, it sounding like a bad pick up line in my head. "Sometimes, depends on what's going on in my life. Depends on my needs at the time," he told me. I didn't know that about Matt.

There was something about being on his lap, brushing up against his hardening member in his pants that was turning me on more than I thought it should be. I had given men lap dances before that I'd found attractive, and it definitely left me a little wet a few times. But this was different. I definitely had always found Matt attractive, and there was an extra layer to this, Matt and I acting like this was our first time meeting. The way his demeanor was different in this setting and the way mine was too. I was beginning to wonder if I was starting to enjoy this more than he was.

"I wanna see your face," Matt growled into my ear, and I obliged by turning around and straddling him. I went back to basically riding him with our clothes on while we looked into each other's eyes. Matt's hands almost immediately found their way to my ass. "You have an incredible body, you know that?" Matt commented. "You're not so bad yourself," I smirked at him. Matt's hands moved from my ass to my breasts. The way he handled me was gentle but with purpose and demanding at the same time. I loved the way his hands traced my body while I continued to grind against him. "Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad," Matt responded, staring at my lips. "You can if you have another $100 on you," I replied. No matter how badly I wanted to kiss him, I made it a rule that I'd always charge for intimate touch like that, because the men had to know it was transactional. I didn't want to make anyone feel lead on. This was my job, and this was a sale.

Matt shifted my hips so that I was straddling his knee now instead as he reached for his wallet in his pocket. I found myself holding my breath as his leg rubbed up against my already wet cunt and caused friction that sent a shock of pleasure through my nerve endings. It took everything in me to keep from riding his thigh while he pulled another benjamin out of his wallet and tucked it into the bra of my corset. I leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft and pouty. His kiss was gentle, the same as his touch. His tongue slowly slipped into my mouth and brushed against my own. It was wet and velvety. While he passionately kissed me, his hands made their way to my face, softly cupping it. I pulled away, looking at him with a deep desire.

"Your three songs are almost over," I whispered, maintaining control of the situation. "I can pay for another three songs," Matt said, about to shift me onto his knee again. "Matt, please. As your friend, I can't let you do this. $300 is a lot of money to be spending at a strip club," I lectured him, breaking character. "Mary Jane, tonight I'm just another customer. I make my own money, I can spend it how I like," Matt bit his lip at me. "I wanna spend it on you, baby. I wanna spoil you," his words sent more waves of ecstacy through my body.

"Alright, another three songs," I said putting out my hand to accept another bill. "Actually, how much to take you to the private room?" Matt gestured towards the more intimate spaces where no one could see us. "All that you have in your wallet," I said jokingly, making a gun with my hand and jabbing it into his chest, but he took me seriously. He pulled out his wallet, grabbed a wad of cash, stuck it in my g-string this time, and tipped his wallet upside down to show me it was empty all while he smiled. I reached down to the money he'd put in my panties. "Only catch is, I want you for the whole night. Until the club closes," Matt growled while I counted the money. There was almost $1000 in my hand. I was shocked that Matt had this kind of money to blow at a strip club. And the fact that he did this semi-regularly? Matt was very quiet about how much money he had and about what a freak he was, and I liked that.

I thought about declining his offer and telling him I couldn't mix business, friendship, AND pleasure. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I'd be dumb not to. He was hot, he wanted me, and I'd never made this much money in one night before. "Deal," I said, tucking the money into my corset. Matt grinned at me. "Follow me," I said, leading him back.

I'd taken men into the private rooms before many times, and I liked it. It was quieter, away from all the noise. There was a bed and a couch. Usually, men would take me in there because they wanted more privacy. I'd never slept with a customer, no matter how much I'd been offered, but there were a few times where I'd definitely maybe crossed an ethical line that could technically get the club in trouble, but I'd never tell. I was good at keeping secrets. There were a few men I'd given handjobs to, one john who had taken my tits out of my bra and teased my nipples with his tongue, and one guy who rubbed my clit over my panties until he made me cum. I remembered being so embarrassed and blushing after that encounter, but that was the most money I'd ever made in one night. Until tonight.

"Why don't you take that top off?" Matt inquired when we were alone in the room. I smirked at him as I pulled all the cash out of my bra and set it next to my shoes I'd slipped out of to get more comfortable. I was nervous for him to see me like this, but it was just business. I started undoing the clasps on my corset when Matt came up behind me to help me. When all the hooks were undone, Matt slowly slid my straps down my shoulders one by one. He let my corset slowly fall to the ground, and when it did, he took both breasts into his hands and looked at them in awe. "Shit," he whispered to himself, fondling them, brushing up against my sensitive nipples.

Matt made his way to the couch and comfortably sprawled out, taking up space and licking his lips while his eyes studied my every curve while running his hand along his hard dick in his pants. "Come here, princess," Matt said, rubbing his leg and patting it, motioning for me to sit down, so I did. Once I leaned back into him, he played with my nipples some more, teasing them, pinching them, sucking on them. His hands slowly moved to the front of my panties, rubbing me through the fabric for a few minutes, and moved my thong aside while I sat on his lap. "Your pussy looks so pretty with your panties all pushed to the side like that," Matt complimented me in a voice that was barely above a whisper as he reached for it. When he started moving his fingers in circles skillfully around my clit, I let out a soft moan. "Oh, you're so wet, darling," Matt observed, exploring me with his hands. I loved sitting on his lap like a giddy little girl. His touch felt amazing. He slipped a finger inside of me and then another one while he looked down at my entrance, enthralled by how much wetter he was making me. "Oh, Matt," I whimpered as I started to get close. "Come on pretty girl. Cum all over my fingers," Matt smirked. I couldn't believe I was hearing these words leave Matt's mouth, but I took them as a command. I came unraveled while I sat on his knee with his fingers pumping in and out of me. I felt my body tense up and tremble for a few seconds, and then a glorious release.

"Good girl. You think I could make you cum again?" Matt cooed, licking his fingers while I tried to catch my breath, but I nodded and smiled. He lifted me up off his lap, revealing a wet spot on his pants under where I was sitting, and Matt seemed turned on by it. He sat me on the couch and got down on his knees on the floor between my legs. He pulled my panties to the side again, and I felt his hair tickle my thigh as he leaned it and attached his lips to my vulva. He teased me by kissing and licking everywhere but my clit while he looked up at me, smiling. "Please Matt," I whined, tugging at his curls, trying to bring him closer to where I wanted him to lick me, but he was doing it on purpose, making me beg for it, and he loved it. "Your pussy is so pretty up close and personal like this. Let me take my time with her," he smirked, teasing my entrance and kissing the insides of my thighs. He finally gave in after a few more minutes of my relentless pleading, manipulating my sweet spot with his tongue. He started moving it faster and more enthusiastically. It felt so good, I found myself sliding down on the couch, slowly but surely inching my pussy towards his face. He grabbed my hips and held me in place while he passionately moaned against me, sending shivers through my body. Matt was surprising me by the minute. He was certainly a jack of all trades, and I was learning I didn't even know a lot about him at all, only the parts that he wanted me to see. And the more I saw, the more I liked.

I started digging my nails into his shoulders as he continued to eat me like a mad man, running his hands and his tongue anywhere he pleased, and every time I was responsive to the way he touched me, he moved more eagerly. I was a moaning, writhing wreck under the flick of his tongue the carress of his fingers. I had never let a customer go down on me before. There were a lot of ethical boundaries I was willing to cross at this point for Matt. It just made it even hotter that we were playing into this fantasy that we didn't know each other and that he was just paying for a stripper - and at this point, basically a prostitute. I liked that Matt was paying me to eat my pussy. What a dream. And he was so wonderful at it too. Such attention to detail. So thorough. So restrained yet so urgent. I couldn't get enough of how much he wanted me.

"I'm so fucking in love with your pussy, I could eat you for hours," Matt mumbled in between licks. He closed his lips around my swollen bud and gently sucked on it until I was trembling and nearly screaming his name. "Yes, pretty girl. Make a mess on my tongue. I know you can do it," he cooed. His encouragement along with his skillful mouth had my second orgasm hitting me even harder than the first. I couldn't keep my hips from grinding against Matt's tongue while I twitched and whimpered obscenities, gripping the back of his head.

"Oh my fucking god. Where did you learn to do that?" I smiled down at him once I started to recover from my intense climax. "You're the one who basically showed me what to do with your body language. All I had to do was listen," he smirked. His answer was as hot as what he had just done to me. I liked the way Matt was in tune with my body, and the way he was trying things out to see how I'd react and then doing the things I loved over and over again. It was similar to how I behaved with my customers.

"Have you ever gone down on any other women in these clubs?" I asked him. "No, not ever. This was a first for me," he confided in me, which made me feel special. "First for me too. Guess it wouldn't hurt if we went further.." my voice started to trail off. "Say no more, princess," Matt said, finally taking the time to take off my panties instead of just moving them to the side again.

He unbuttoned his pants, pulled down his boxers, and entered me with no warning. I felt myself invite him in easily, and he started pumping in and out out of me aggressively. I loved the way he filled me and the way he spoke to me. I loved the way his lips parted to let out a stream of moans and the way he looked at me with his glazed over blue eyes, letting me know he couldn't take it much longer. His cock repeatedly hitting my pleasure spot was sending me over the edge again. I throbbed around his thickness as another wave crashed over me, and I got lost in it for a moment. All I could feel was endless pleasure, and there was a ringing in my ears that lasted for several minutes after I came. Matt loudly groaned "Oh, fuck," while he pulled out, leaving a mess on my pussy, and we both watched as his cock twitched and released his sticky white substance. He smiled down proudly and in awe of the way his ejaculate glistened on my womanhood.

He collapsed on the couch beside me after it was all over. "You're so much different at work as opposed to the shy girl I see every day," Matt nudged me. "Not shy, just keep my cards close to my chest," I corrected him. "But yeah, you're so much different as well. Who knew you could fuck like that?" I said, licking my lips, and he grinned as I complimented him.

"I've gotta go, sweetheart. The club is closing in ten minutes, and I've gotta come up with something to tell Chris and Nick about why I've been gone for several hours," he laughed. He leaned down one more time to stroke my face, and he gave me a sensual, slow, deep kiss. "Matt, seriously, come again. I loved doing business with you," I smiled up at him, not wanting him to leave. "I'll be back darling. Don't worry. I'd pay a million dollars if I had it to drown in that sweet pussy again. Just promise me, it'll be our little secret."

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #ariestrxsh #taste

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 8 months ago

Text

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven

dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader 12k words (.....yes. 12k. i-)

summary: Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. this is entirely based on my new fixation on dbf!jake. i have so many thots. so many that they led to a 12k oneshot lmfao. anyway, as always, a list of things to watch out for:

pet names used in an unholy way, safe sex (i fucking managed to finally give them a condom whooooohoooo), oral sex for the both of them (yes i also wrote a blowjob. this is unbelievable i know), dom!jake, some praise kink, a smidge of strength kink at the end. a lot of begging. as always. mention of shower sex. mostly vanilla. jake fucks in missionary because he wants to be nice for his first time with her. if there's ever a sequel i swear to god he will be the most unholy fucker ever

top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist

The first time Jake meets you isn't the first time he's supposed to meet you. He's supposed to come by for dinner that evening, to finally get to know the daughter your parents have told him so much about. And it's not his fault that he meets you seven hours earlier that day. Not really.

Because the pictures your parents had kept showing him were all old. Mostly childhood photographs, some from your graduation, but none recent enough to connect the dots.

So it's really not his fault that he doesn't recognise you when he sees you standing there on the side of the road, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder, the hood of your car all the way up. With how wildly you're gesturing, Jake guesses that you're not particularly close to fixing whatever problem you have.

You're wary when he pulls up behind you and opens his door. It's rarely a good sign when random men prey on very obviously helpless and distressed young women. But Jake doesn't even get closer at first, just stands there in the opened car door and asks if you need any help. For a little moment, you debate whether it's worth the risk. Then your father's voice rings out from your phone and you decide that there's not much this guy could do to you in broad daylight on a well used street with your father on the phone.

So you tell him the truth. Yes, you most definitely have a problem. The way he makes sure it's okay for him to come over and take a look calms you even more. He's considerate and careful and maybe you're actually lucky and he's just a guy who genuinely wants to help.

He steps out from the door and walks up to you and honestly, for a moment there you're startled. He has to be in his forties, but damn, he's attractive. Suddenly you're glad you picked your sundress over your sweatpants this morning.

You let him lean over your car and take a closer look.

"If he can't help, I'll just come pick you up and we'll call a tow truck", your father says after you've filled him in on what's happening. Honestly, you'd really rather not have to call a tow truck though, because that's just going to cost you a bunch of money again, which isn't particularly the way you want to spend it.

Also, this guy leaning over your car - and you're not even denying that you're very much eyeing him up - seems like he actually knows what he's doing there.

He takes a minute or two before he comes up again. He's smiling, which you take as a good sign. He opens his mouth and you hear what he's saying - but because you have no clue what it is that he's trying to tell you, you just nod along. You're not a mechanic, you don't know the goddamn terminology. Something something battery, something something fuel pump, whatever. You take the time to notice his accent instead.

The good news is he thinks he can fix whatever he's found, but you'll still have to get it checked out later on.

He walks back to his own car, rummages around and comes back with a toolbox and an unopened water bottle.

"It might take a while", he tells you as he offers you the bottle. "Feel free to turn on my radio."

You take the waterbottle and bite down on your lip to keep from grinning. He's sweet. Goddamn. Because you've deemed the whole thing safe, you tell your father goodbye and hang up - you honestly just want a bit of privacy to stare at this hunk of a man who's bending over the hood of your car again and offering you a very... good look at his backside.

It's summer. He's wearing a wife pleaser, which is reasonable in these temperatures, but the sight of his forearms working almost makes you feel like he knows what he's doing by wearing it. Does he have a wife to please, though? He's old enough to have kids - your age, maybe a few years younger. He's about as old as your dad. If he has a wife, maybe he's wearing it for her. Maybe she likes the way his biceps flexes just like you do.

You squint at his hands as you uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There's no ring as far as you can see. Would it be entirely unreasonable to assume he's... single?

It's been a minute, maybe, when you decide it's probably awkward for you to stand there and watch him, so you go with his suggestion and lean into his car, palms bracing against the seat to reach for the radio.

You turn it on, switch through a few channels until you find one you like and turn the volume up. Because it's probably just as awkward if you stay in his car - if not bordering on creepy - you step around the opened door and settle yourself against the hood. Your thighs stick to the warmed metal, but that's something you're willing to deal with.

Your eyes cling to him as he works. You don't know what the hell he's doing, you just hope he knows and you're not left with an even worse problem after. But he doesn't seem like that type of guy. And since he's seemingly unmarried... You don't stop yourself from staring.

Fuck, maybe he has a girlfriend, not everyone gets married at thirty. Not everyone wears their wedding ring either. But a girl can dream, right? And you're dreaming, for just a few minutes. You allow yourself to dream.

He looks so good. He looks so fucking good.

Sandy-blond hair, cut short, but not too short, broad, broad, broad shoulders... those arms, that back.

When he straightenes and looks at you, greasy fingers and a triumphant grin on his lips, you also have to admit that he's got chiseled fucking features. You swallow hard and do your best to pretend you haven't been ogling him.

"All done", he says. You raise your eyebrows.

"Really? That quickly?"

He grins and takes a step back, offering you to take a look yourself. You bite back a smile and push off the hood of his car - your hips are swaying as you walk, yeah, but as far as you're aware, he's single and just fixed your car for you, for free, in less than fifteen minutes.

Also, he's hot.

"Looks no different to me", you admit. He lets out a chuckle.

"Try it", he says, reaches for the hood and pulls it down as you slip into the driver's seat. You look up to him through the windshield before you turn the key in the ignition and-

The car starts.

The fucking car starts.

He's actually managed it.

You turn the key back and shake your head in disbelief. If he hadn't accidentally stumbled upon you, you'd probably have had to call the tow truck by now. Instead, you reach for the glove compartment and grab your purse.

"How-", you start as you climb out of the car seat again, shutting the door behind you. "How the hell?"

He chuckles.

"Actually, don't tell me", you interrupt yourself, throwing your hands up. "I don't even want to know. Here."

You reach into your purse and pull out disinfection wipes, offering them to him. He takes one with a smile and a drawled thanks and cleans off the grease on his hands before folding it up and letting it disappear into his pocket.

"So you're my knight in shining armour today", you say, biting down on your lip. Fuck it. You're gonna find out here and now whether or not he's single. "Otherwise I'm sure the tow truck would've cost me a hundred bucks - at least."

"Yeah, probably", he agrees, his eyes dropping to your mouth for just a second.

"Well, then", you smile, as coyly as you can manage. "How can I thank you?"

And just as you hoped, he stills, taking you in - maybe for the first time, you're not sure. His eyes rake down your body, your cleavage, your waist, your legs. His lips tug into a grin, but when he looks back up at you, he's serious.

"No worries", he tells you. "I'm not the tow truck."

He's not pushing you. Actually, he's doing the opposite, and you're not a fan. Maybe he isn't single after all. Maybe he does have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or maybe he's not interested. Maybe... but you can give it a try, right? Just one try.

"I can't just drive off", you argue, blinking up at him a little more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Fuck, are you really doing this? Your breath catches for a moment. But then again, if he isn't single, you're just gonna get into your car and never see him again. So who cares? "How about I give you my number?"

Your heartbeat quickens as he looks at you and straightens up. He's still grinning. You can't quite figure him out.

"I'm forty-seven, darling", he chuckles. You try your hardest to ignore how that pet name sounds, all sweet and intimate and god, you'd do a lot to have him say it again.

"So?", you ask and raise an eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't have a phone?"

Jake shakes his head with a chuckle, but you keep looking up at him so seductively, keep smiling so flirtatiously that he can't help himself. You're wearing such a pretty dress, such a dainty necklace around your throat. And you're serious about this.

He's had younger women flirt with him, yes, but usually five, ten years younger at most - and even that's been a while, because he isn't going to bars every night anymore.

You're really young. You're too young. You're, what, twenty-six? You can't be much older.

But you're stunning. Gorgeous eyes, kissable lips, glossy and plush and for just a moment, Jake loses himself in the images his mind seems to produce immediately when he looks at you - has been, from the second he'd spotted you through his windshield.

He's old enough to know better. But he still reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

...

The first time Jake officially meets you is seven hours later when he knocks on your parents' door and takes a step back to wait for it to open.

"That's gotta be Jake, someone get the door!", your mother's voice calls out, and it takes a few seconds until he hears soft footsteps coming down the hallway.

Then the door cracks open.

And there stands-

You.

You're smiling widely for the entirety of two seconds. Then your face falls.

Jake feels like the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He tumbles deep down a dark, dark hole as he stares at your pretty eyes, all shocked and wide, mouth open.

"You", you let out, almost breathless.

"You", Jake echoes, in quite the same tone.

Within seconds, you're stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind you and holding out your hand in front of you, as if to keep him a safe distance away.

You're quick, almost stumbling over your own words as you come to conclusions and try to grasp all their consequences. Jake has a hard time even listening to you. He's frozen in his spot, barely comprehending the entire situation.

The young woman that had so unashamedly flirted with him this morning - that he had most definitely flirted back with - is his neighbour's daughter. His friend's daughter.

So he's fucking frozen in spot, yes.

He's frozen even as you're ushering him into the house with a smile on your lips that's just a bit too wide. He's frozen as he sits down at the dinner table and frozen as your mother offers him a beer. He's frozen as he settles on the couch after and as your father turns on a football game. He's frozen as you scoff at the tv and disappear up the stairs.

Your father asks him what's wrong, but there's no way Jake can tell him.

Even without your lecture on the porch, there would've been no way he would have admitted that he's got your number saved in his phone, "Twenty-five" with a winky face emoji behind it.

So he says he hasn't been all that well - maybe getting the flu or something.

Which is bullshit. He doesn't get sick. He's been sick two, maybe three times in all his life.

But he does think he'll be sick when you take your last step down the stairs half an hour later, in pajamas that barely cover anything - satin or something, he's too focused not focusing on your bare skin to notice anything except your bare skin, really. You just traipse over to the kitchen on tiptoes, eyes glued to your phone, hushed voices reaching his ears when you talk to your mother before you reappear in the living room.

"I'm going to bed", you announce, phone clutched tightly in your hands. "It's been a long day."

Jake can't hear your father's answer. He can't hear the commentator or the cheers from the tv. He can't hear anything, not when you're standing there in the doorway, when he's concentrating so fucking hard on not looking at you.

He fails miserably.

His eyes rake down your body so scorchingly hot that they burn holes into your skin. You have to swallow hard at his expression.

You're not tired at all, actually. Yes, it's been a long day, but if anything, you're buzzing with adrenaline. Which is worse. Because the entire dinner long, you've just had to sit there and stare at him and not do anything about it.

So you're aching to finally hide away in your room, to crawl into bed and contemplate what the fuck is happening. And, just maybe, to dip your fingers into your pajama shorts and think about his shoulders, his arms, his jawline...

Jake manages to grunt some kind of 'goodnight' before you flee - but he doesn't manage to drag his eyes back up from your stomach, all exposed and on display for him. And he doesn't manage to hide it from you.

...

He sees you often over the following weeks. He's been over at your parents' house almost every day for the past six months anyway, and that doesn't change just because you've come back home. Your father still invites him for football games, your mother still talks him into coming over for lunch or for dinner or both and whenever they're outside tinkering on something, he's being called to help.

And - because of course, it's your house as well - you're there, too.

All around him, all the time.

At first, it's innocent. You walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and smile and say hello. You sit on the couch on a call with a friend and wave at him through the window. You come back from a walk with the dog and ask how he's doing before you disappear inside.

But then there come moments... Moments in which you lie down on a sun lounger in a skimpy bikini while he's painting the fence with your father, sunglasses high on your nose, a book in your hands, rubbing sunscreen into your skin and biting your lip when he can't help but look at you. Moments in which you brush up against him in the kitchen with a giggled 'Sorry', your mother's back turned to you as she grabs milk from the fridge, his fists clenching at his sides, his coffee cup held decently in front of his crotch. Moments in which you sit next to him on the couch and have to lean over him with a lengthy apology, your father just disappearing into the bathroom, your palm high enough on his thigh to stagger into the inappropriate.

The only time he's safe is at work. And even then, you're on his mind constantly.

Those pretty dresses you wear all the time, low-cut in the front and so short they hardly reach past your mid-thighs, in all colours of the rainbow. Those skimpy tops with the flowers on them and jeans-shorts or skirts he's more than once noticed are actually skorts.

He shouldn't be attracted to you. It's so wrong on so many levels. You're too young, much too young, twenty-two years younger than him. And - worse - he's best friends with your father.

He can't be attracted to his best friend's daughter. He simply can't.

It's wrong. It's so, so wrong.

But he can't help himself. He can't help himself when you brush up against him, when you touch him, when you look like that right in front of him.

He doesn't know how he survives those first weeks. He doesn't feel like he's alive, really. Every waking thought is of you - of you and of how wrong it is that he can't stop thinking about you. That he keeps imagining what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No.

No, he can't.

Even though you're making it practically impossible for him.

And it's not like you really know what you're doing either. But ever since the car incident that very first day back home, you've been picturing those arms, those shoulders - and after the first time you caught sight of him working shirtless on some project in the backyard with your father, those fucking abs. All glistening, sweaty skin, that v-line, that happy trail...

It's not your fault he's starring in all of your late night fantasies now. It's his. It's his because he shouldn't be allowed to look that fucking good, to smell and sound and feel that good, when you can't have him. Because of course you can't.

He's twenty-two years older than you. He's your dad's new best friend.

You can't.

You can't flirt with him like you want to, you can't have him, because it would be wrong. But you also can't not.

You don't mean to taunt him, not at first. At first, it's just instincts. Talk to him, get his attention. But the more you're around him... the less you can control yourself.

You want to then. You want to graze your fingers across his thigh when your father isn't looking, you want to suck the straw of your drink into your mouth while you blink up at him, you want to accidentally drop your spoon and bend over in front of him. You want to because you know he wants you to.

Even though he doesn't say it, even though he forces himself to turn away when you walk by him, you see the way he looks at you. You catch him staring, you catch him eyeing you up and down. You notice the tick in his jaw and the way his fists clench at his sides. You watch his knuckles turn white as he grabs the neck of his beer bottle and takes a deep sip.

You know he's most definitely attracted to you.

Because even if you imagine half of those things - there's still the car incident. There's still your number saved in his phone. There's still 'darling' on your mind. Mostly the way he's repeated it since then, two or three times maybe, each one inspiring more sinful bedtime scenarios.

You can't.

He can't.

And yet neither of you doesn't.

...

Your parents are away when it happens. Your dad has to go on a trip for work and he takes your mother with him, surprises her with an extra weekend of romance just for the two of them. They're gone by Wednesday morning and won't be back until Sunday afternoon and even though you're twenty-five and have experience living on your own, they've asked Jake to check in on you, just to make sure you're okay.

The first time he 'checks in on you' is involuntary. He's just come back from work, it's Wednesday, 3pm, and he's sitting down on his back porch with a beer when he spots you.

He really doesn't mean to. He hadn't even known you were there.

But the fence between your house and his isn't high and so it's only natural that his eyes flick over to your garden once.

And then twice.

Because you're climbing out of the pool in the tiniest black bikini Jake has ever seen in his life, looking like some angelic, biblic, ancient goddess - your hair in a messy bun, droplets of water running down your bare skin, muscles working as you pull yourself up the little ladder and put both feet against solid, dry ground, leaving wet footprints with every step you take until you grab your towel, sling it around your shoulders and-

Look right at him.

Your lips tug into a flirty grin. You wave at him, your hand lingering in the air a second too long before you wrap the towel tightly around yourself and tread towards the fence. Jake can't do anything but watch you go and swallow hard.

The other option would probably be to drag you into his arms and ravage you until your throat is sore from screaming his name.

So he just sits there and stares at you instead.

"Hey there", you greet as soon as you're close enough to the fence that he can't look past your belly button anymore.

"Hey", Jake says and for whatever reason, his voice sounds raspy even to himself. Your grin only deepens.

"Do you have plans for dinner yet?", you ask. You bat your lashes at him innocently as you dry off your arms. "I was going to order take out."

So that's why three hours later, Jake rings your doorbell, in a black button up he spent twenty minutes picking out. The last time he'd spent that long in front of the closet, he'd been about fifteen years younger and about to go on an actual date. This isn't an actual date. This is anything but a date, because he's only supposed to check in on his best friend's daughter. He's supposed to look after you. Keep you safe.

But you open the door in an oversized, washed out band tee and smile so stunningly that he forgets what he's supposed to do in about half a second.

There's a moment of silence as Jake stares at you. He knows that damn band tee.

"Is that... mine?", he asks in disbelief as he waits for the sight to sink in, which it does not do. His mind blanks completely. It's not just that it's oversized and that you look like you're drowning in it, which already has him imagining the way he could flatten his palms against your stomach and feel for you in that heap of fabric. It's also that he knows this fucking shirt because he's been wearing it for the past ten years.

You look down like you're just realising what you have on, not like you'd almost had a heart attack when you'd seen it in the laundry basket, squealing so loudly that your mother had come in to check on you. Jake had worn that shirt the same day and apparently forgotten to put it back on when he'd gone home, so your mother had put it in the laundry.

She hadn't realised that you'd stolen it for yourself before she could wash it. She probably hadn't paid it that much attention.

You had though. And tonight had felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.

"I found it in the laundry", you say truthfully, looking up at him with big eyes. "Dad said it wasn't his so I just took it. Maybe a mix up. Do you want it back?"

Your fingers reach for the hem of the shirt down by your thighs, tugging mindlessly up just a tiny bit. Jake almost stumbles over his own words with how quick he is in denying you.

"No, no, keep it", he reassures. "Keep it."

You let go of the shirt as your grin widens.

"Okay then", you say softly, turn around and leave the door open so Jake can get in. You stroll into the kitchen, crack open the fridge and grab the freshly made iced tea while Jake closes the door behind him and puts away his shoes.

It could have easily been awkward. Honestly, Jake isn't sure that it's not. But it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... heavy. Drowsy. As though you're moving in slow motion, looking at him over your shoulder with a sultry grin. And in his shirt as well. His fucking shirt, it's unbelievable.

You're smiling at him over Chinese take out food with the radio playing softly in the background and the dim kitchen light on and it could have been almost normal, almost nothing, almost just a friendly dinner with his best friend's daughter.

But it isn't.

It isn't because you're leaning over the table and stealing a spring roll from him, grinning at him when he starts to protest. It isn't because you're pushing him back down onto his chair when he wants to get up and help you clear the table, leaning most definitely too close to him to grab his plate and bending most definitely too far down to put it into the dishwasher. It isn't because you're opening a bottle of whiskey, pouring him one and only then asking if he's going to stay and watch a movie with you.

You've already poured him the drink.

Not that he'd been planning to say no.

You're not close to him on the couch, not really. You're a respectful distance away as you put your own drink onto the table in front of you and grab the remote. You're still a respectful distance away as you scroll through a bunch of movies and ask him if he's got any preferences - besides football, of course.

But when you decide on a movie, on one of those rom-coms he'd never watch willingly, you're draping your legs over his and brushing your hair away from your face and he has to swallow hard.

His hands drop to your bare skin almost instinctively. He can't keep them off of you, not when you're this close to him, not when you're offering so prettily. It's like he has to touch you, has to brush his thumbs across your ankles.

This could all be normal. This could all be usual.

Jake doesn't bother paying attention to the movie. It's not like he could possibly pay attention to it, not when his fingers are running up and down your soft skin. So he doesn't really mind that he misses their first kiss, even as you look up from the drink you're refilling with a gasp and wide eyes to watch.

Jake just watches the way your hair frames your face, those droplets of iced tea on your lips before you wipe them off. He's sure he could taste them if he tried to.

You lean back into the couch then and stretch and your shirt - Jake's shirt - rides so far up that he catches sight of your underwear. Fuck.

He has to grab onto you hard so that he doesn't launch himself right on top of you. His mouth is dry all of a sudden, so dry that he has to swallow. You blink up at him as you feel his hands clench around your ankles, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from grinning.

He needs a few seconds to even look up at you. It's like his eyes are glued to that expanse of bare skin at your hip, clinging to the thought of you in your underwear right before him. You're always wearing shorts. You're always wearing shorts. You're always fucking wearing shorts.

Shit.

He shouldn't. He can't.

But his hands brush up your calves and he does look back at you then, which really isn't better, because your lip is still caught between your teeth and your expression is so sinful that he has to bite down on his own tongue.

"Jake", you breathe, all soft and quiet and that's it. That's his breaking point.

You can't just say his fucking name like that, not in his shirt, not while presenting him such a good look at your underwear, and expect him to be okay.

"Fuck", he mutters, then he's on you.

It's an uncomfortable position. You're half turned to him, half away, your legs are still thrown over his lap, which means he can't really push close to you, but his lips are against yours, so firmly, so passionately that you can't care, not right then.

Your eyes fall shut and you kiss him back with the same fervor, the same heat, the same fucking desperation to finally feel him. You part you lips almost too eagerly, too quickly, just so he can stroke his tongue along yours. His hands dig into your thighs, grabbing you tightly, and your arms cross behind his neck to drag him down to you - just that your legs are really in the way now and you have to try and pry one from his lap so that he doesn't crush it, which isn't all that comfortable and takes a while too long to still be sexy. You hardly mind. Jake doesn't either, only pulls his knees up to the couch to climb on top of you.

The whole thing is complicated and annoying and decidedly too time consuming, but his lips are on yours and he's pressing against you, catching himself with a palm against the couch cushions and lowering you to lie down, every single touch frenzied and hurried and hot. Heady and heavy and horny.

You're dragging your hands through his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching your nails across his scalp. He's grabbing your hips with his free hand, grasping your thighs, tangling his fingers in your shirt and digging them into your skin.

You're grinding against him. Not softly, not carefully, not secretly. You're wrapping your legs around him and grinding against him, almost without realising it - you need to be close, you need to be closer. You need to move. You need to feel him.

At the first moan you let out, Jake stills. When you breathily add his name, he pulls back entirely.

It's cold and empty without him, cold and empty and confusing as he settles back on his ankles, panting and wide-eyed. Your arms and legs drop to the couch as you try to catch your breath.

"No", Jake mutters. "We can't."

You push yourself up onto your palms, chest still heaving as you look up at him. Your cheeks feel so hot that you're sure they're embarrassingly red by now and your mind is still hazy with what just happened -

Jake had kissed you. He'd kissed you and you'd kissed him back.

And now he isn't kissing you anymore and you're absolutely not alright with that. You need him to kiss you again. You need to dig your hands into his hair and feel him knead your thighs again. You need to find out what it's like to rake your nails along his arms and scratch down his back.

"Jake", you breathe, staring at him all wide-eyed as he shakes his head and inches even further away from you. He seems like he's in a trance. You repeat his name more forcefully and reach out for him - but he only shakes his head again and runs a hand down his face.

You still for the entirety of two seconds. Then you sit up, inches closer to him than necessary, and toy with the hem of your shirt. You've got a hunch that giving and taking the sight of your underwear will only help your case here.

"Why not?", you ask as you watch his eyes drop down, just like you'd wanted. His breath catches.

"You're twenty-five", he begins, his voice a bit too rough to sound unaffected. "And I'm friends with your father."

You take a long look at him.

"Would you if you weren't friends with my father?"

You bite down on your lip and blink up at him as prettily as you can manage. You're quite sure you know the answer. Especially with that car incident... With your number saved in his phone. With that smug grin you still see in your fantasies.

He hadn't been too concerned with your age back then.

"I am friends with your father", Jake says, all the while struggling to drag his eyes back up your body.

"But if you weren't", you go on, not ready just yet to leave this be - because you know that if you back down now, you'll never get a chance again. Not like this. Not with him. "If you weren't friends with my father. Would you?"

A muscle ticks in his jaw. You hold your breath - one, two, three seconds. Then he's on you yet again and this time, this time with no end in sight. Not as he pushes you back down onto the couch and sets both his palms down next to your head. Not as you wrap your legs around his waist and work the buttons of his shirt, fingers moving so frantically that you slip up more than once - not that you care.

You're kissing Jake. After what has felt like an eternity of teasing and quietly flirting, you're finally kissing him, touching him, feeling him. On top of you, all around you.

Yes, he fucking would. You were right.

His shirt finally unbuttons and you can hardly push it out of the way quickly enough to run your hands down his chest - exploring his collarbones, his abs, that fucking happy trail that has been driving you insane ever since you saw it for the first time. Your fingers brush bare skin, warm, hot, bare skin, before they catch on his waistband. He grinds his hips onto yours as you draw your fingertips along his belt and swallows the moan you so pathetically let out.

You're just about to get to work on opening his belt buckle when he shifts his weight onto one hand and grasps your wrist with the other, pulling an inch away from you as he does so, lips parting in sticky intoxication.

"Jake", you mewl, but when you blink open your eyes he's already shaking his head softly and- grinning. Grinning that smug grin that you've been dreaming of. The one you haven't seen since the very first time you met him. Not with your dad around or directed at anyone else, no. The grin that takes your breath away right then, and you can't even tell why.

It's confident and cocky and cheeky and so, so very, very sexy. Fuck.

You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, too caught up in taking him in to notice how he's bringing both your hands up over your head.

"If we're doing this, I'm doing it right, darling", he mutters, all low and rough and the pet name has you clamping your thighs even harder around him. "And only if you want me to."

You can't nod quickly enough.

"I need you to tell me, baby", he grins, exposing those pearly whites that you'd very much like to feel biting into your neck or something. "I need you to say yes."

"Yes, Jake", you push past your lips, breathless and panting and desperate. Desperate for him. "Please."

His chuckle reverberates in your own chest. He runs his hand down your side and rubs a soft circle against the bare skin of your hip, catching on the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

"Already begging for me", he mutters with a grin, his fingers hooking into your waistband. Your hips buck up into his and a moan drops from your lips and Jake just keeps on grinning. Keeps on running his thumbs along your hip bones. "That easily."

You can't even deny it, deny him. You need him to touch you and you need him to do it now.

"You're lucky I want to taste you, because I'm sure it'd be fun to tease you", he chuckles, holds you down against the couch as he sits back on his ankles, keeping your legs spread and the dark spot on your underwear right on display for him. "I could keep you here all night."

You're not sure what excites you more - the promise of all night or the tasting you part. Either way, you bury your hands into your own hair and tug hard to keep yourself from sitting up, pushing him onto his back and riding him into oblivion. He wouldn't let you anyway, you're guessing.

Jake runs his free hand down the inside of your thigh and you really have to concentrate on not moving then. Every touch, every brush and every stroke sends shivers down your spine and pools in your core, heating up each inch of your skin.

When he reaches your underwear once more, he hooks his second thumb into it as well and tugs. Your jaw clenches. God, you've gotta keep still, you've just gotta wait-

He looks up then and raises his eyebrows.

"Please, Jake", you breathe, before he can even say anything. His eyes drop again and he pulls your underwear down, down, down, pushing your knees together to slide them off your legs and you're holding your breath, holding your breath in this intoxicating mess of a moment as he parts your thighs again and leans in. Leans closer.

Leans... not close enough.

Instead, he grabs the hem of your shirt.

"As much as I like that you're wearing my shirt", he mutters, already pushing it up and exposing your stomach to him, "I want to see you."

You let out a pathetic little moan, loosen your hands from your hair and pull his shirt over your head instead, dropping it down onto the floor without looking or bothering where it lands. You're not really bothered about anything besides getting Jake's mouth on you right now.

You're dripping already, dripping down your own thighs as he takes you in - all naked, all bare in front of him, soft skin and smooth curves, chest rising and falling with your heavy breath, eyes half-closed, lips parted and kiss-swollen.

It's wrong. He shouldn't. But he's already gone too far and now, now, with all of you for him to see, to touch, to feel, he can't go back. He can't ever go back.

He wants to burn this image into his memory forever.

"Jake", you whisper, voice just as soft and silky as the rest of you and he snaps out of his trance, runs his fingertips over your stomach, studies you as your breath catches. He leans down again, but his eyes are fixed on you still, focused even as he presses a kiss to your hipbone, then to the inside of your thigh. His teeth graze your skin and his fingers brush against the underside of your boobs.

Fuck.

You bite down on your lip.

Jake thinks he might be in heaven as he palms at your breasts, swiping his thumbs across your nipples and watching your expression change ever so slightly. He breathes against your wetness and his eyes flicker down to finally look at you, dripping for him. His fingers still for just a moment.

If he does this, there's no going back. He's crossing a line that he can never uncross.

But in all honesty - he's already long crossed that line.

So he flattens his tongue against you and tastes you. And you throw you head back and let out a moan that's so filthy that he can't even be bothered to care about what fucking lines he's crossing anymore. He just buries his face in your wetness and basks in the way your eyes roll back into your head.

Your hands dig into his hair all by themselves, tug and pull and push him closer, further into you. You taste heavenly. You are in heaven. You're in heaven with Jake between your legs, brushing his tongue through your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth and groaning into you. He's running his fingers over your breasts, palming and grasping at them, circling and tracing.

That's when the movie stops.

You hadn't even realised it was still on, to be honest, but now, in the silence, your moans echo three times as loud. Jake bathes in the sounds you're letting out. You're absolutely gorgeous like that, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering closed before you blink them open again to look at him, to watch him as he lays between your thighs.

You're soaking in the way he swipes his tongue against you, the way he palms at your skin. With every touch and every brush, you can feel the knot tightening. Can feel the tension in your limbs growing. Can feel the way your legs are starting to clamp tighter, tighter and tighter around Jake's head.

He's so good at this. He's so fucking good at this.

Your grip on his hair tightens so much that you're sure you have to be hurting him, but he doesn't show the slightest hint of wanting to tell you off for it. No, quite the opposite: he pushes further into you and groans his approval.

Which is about the last thing you can take.

Your legs cramp, your hands drag at his hair, your back arches, your head hits the armrest of the couch and Jake guides you through your high, eyes set on you, focused and fixed on you, watching every single reaction you have to him, drinking in the sight of you, drinking in your moans. You're pushing back against him, panting and clawing at him, lips parted and eyes shut tightly as you take in a shaky breath and sink slowly back against the couch.

The air is heavy. Heavy with your emotions, heavy with your orgasm, heavy with your moans.

Jake pulls back slowly, softly, draws his hands down to your stomach to rub circles onto your skin - significantly warmer now than before. You're still breathing heavily, legs unhooking from around his head only reluctantly. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he'd just decided to stay down there for the next three to five business days. But you also don't mind as he pushes himself up and presses a kiss to your lips, because he tastes like you and you get to hook your arms around his neck and pull him even further down onto you.

With his half-bare chest pushed against yours, his tongue runs along your lips and you open willingly up to him. More than just willingly. Because with him on top of you, his lips sticky and syrupy on yours, not wanting or not able to part from yours, there's already anticipation running in your veins, wetness pooling in your core again, the urge to wrap your legs around him and grind against him growing and growing with every second that he's kissing you.

You draw your hands down his throat, push his shirt out of the way and brush your palms down his bare torso, all hard abs against your fingertips. He's in such good fucking shape you could truly be running your hands up and down a washboard right now. It feels unfair that he's more than twenty years older than you and somehow fitter.

Your fingers catch on his waistband then.

"Jake", you whine softly against him. "Please, I need you."

He groans, drops his head down to your neck and for a second, you just hear him breathe - all hot and heavy before his lips graze your skin.

"Fuck, you can't say that, darling", he mutters. "You don't know what you do to me."

His belt buckle feels cold against your fingertips, so cold against your sticky, sweaty skin.

"Show me", you whine, beg, plead. He's not teasing you, not taking his time, he's not waiting or edging or anything, and still- Still, you're so fucking desperate. He's finally got you here, finally, and as much as you're sure you'd enjoy his teasing... You just need him to fuck you. Now.

Jake chuckles breathily as he raises his head to look down at you. There's that grin again. That fucking grin.

Then he plants that grin onto your lips and you moan softly, hooking your fingers into his belt and pulling hard. You've just started loosening it successfully when he sits back onto his ankles, leaves you cold and lonely and fully naked on the couch. You mewl.

"Jake-", you let out, but he's already standing up, climbing off of the couch and you're sitting up as if in trance, just to follow him, whatever it is that he has in mind.

He slips off his shoes before he starts to work his belt and then lets that fall to the ground too. You reach for him instinctively, drawing your fingertips along his thighs as he pops the button of his jeans and pulls down his zipper, but when he hooks his thumbs beneath his waistband and tugs down, something snaps inside of you.

"Wait", you whisper. "Let me."

You reach out for him and graze your fingers along his waistband, taking a breath as your eyes flutter up at him. He swallows hard, lets his arms drop to his sides and nods heavily. God, he looks so fucking attractive. His hair all messy, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed solely on you. You make sure to work quickly, almost frenzied, hurriedly pulling down his jeans and taking his briefs right with them. You won't spend unnecessary time on unimportant things.

Your breath catches, palms stilling against his thighs.

Fuck.

Jake's hand twitches, then clenches into a fist. But he stays right where he is, doesn't move an inch. Everything in him screams at him to run his fingers through your hair and guide you closer to him - but he doesn't. He won't. Not tonight, not right now. Right now, he wants to give you every out he can. Just in case you want to take it.

You don't. Of course not.

Not when you can see just how much he's holding himself back.

So instead you lean down and kitten-lick his tip. His hand flexes, again, and even though he lets out a deep groan that will surely echo in your head for the next two weeks, he stays still.

You just wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and take him into your mouth.

He has to close his eyes and tilt his head up to keep from bucking into you. Damn, it hasn't even been that long since he got blown. And he didn't react like a teenager then. But something about your warm, wet mouth, something about the way your dainty fingers reach around him, something about how you eagerly take him so far that he hits the back of your throat, something about that soft little gagging noise you make just before you pull off of him to breathe in deeply-

Fuck, you're making this really hard for him.

"Jake", you mutter, your hand still working him. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, looks down at you sitting there on the couch, completely naked, eyes all wide and cheeks flushed and so fucking stunning. His fingers brush along your forehead, tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

"Jake", you repeat, a little more breathlessly this time. "Don't hold back for me. I won't break."

His jaw clenches again, but you just blink up at him, the weight of your words heavy between you. His eyes roam your face for any sign of uncertainty - then he nods. He'd like to disagree, though. He's more than afraid he'll break you.

You're so young, so sweet, so fragile.

Just not innocent. And you feel like you have to remind him of that - of your more than obvious flirting, of your sultry grins and half-naked hints, of your number sitting so unashamedly in his contacts.

So you lean in again, pull your free hand from his thigh and grab his wrist instead, dragging it away from your cheek and planting it on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him. He takes a shallow breath and your hand drops back down to his thigh. There's one, two seconds in which your eyes just flutter closed and your nails dig into his skin-

Then, finally, fucking finally! Jake tangles his fingers into your hair and pushes you into him. You loosen your hand from around him and put it against his other thigh, allowing him to pull you closer and closer. You breathe deeply through your nose as Jake groans above you - and it takes everything in you not to grin. Instead, you just let him guide you, blink open your eyes to look at him and try to ignore the arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. He looks so fucking good, it should truly be forbidden, because now you have to press your legs together and steady your palms against him.

Jake feels about the same. His breathing is heavy, his grip on your hair firm, and his eyes are set on you - on how he disappears inside your mouth, again and again, your spit coating him, your throat tight. He can't help but push you down, one time, two times, and pull you back, three times, four times, then push you down and pull you back again. And again. And again. He can hardly concentrate on how good you're making him feel when you're looking that fucking sinful.

Shit.

Before he can come right then and there in your mouth, he tugs you off fully, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the soft whine you let slip. But you can barely be truly bothered when he leans down and presses his lips to yours instead. You're not bothered about anything, really - about anything but his tongue against yours as you cross your arms behind his neck and draw him in, your hands dragging into his hair, your mouth moving desperately against his, sloppily, silently begging him for more.

Jake steadies his palms against the back rest and pulls away heavily, breathing hard as you open your eyes again to look at him - half-lidded, all languid and slow. He swallows hard.

"Do you-", he starts, his voice low and rough and you nod, letting your arms drop from around him to point at the side table.

Have a condom, he'd wanted to ask. In any other situation, he'd have one himself, but something about bringing condoms for a check in on his best friends daughter would have felt incredibly wrong.

"In my makeup bag", you say, your voice thin and breathy as he stretches and reaches for the lavender coloured pouch, unzipping it and looking for the condoms between all the brushes and lipglosses. He can barely pull one out before your fingers close around it, before you've carefully torn it open. He drops your makeup bag back onto the side table right as you straighten up to press a kiss to his lips - almost innocent, almost, if it weren't for the taste of him on your tongue. Then you press a kiss onto his collarbone. Then one right onto his abs. Then one just above that happy trail that has been driving you fucking insane. And then, then, you run your tongue over his tip again before you roll the condom onto him.

Which means it's his turn.

And he doesn't hesitate.

He's not rough in the way he pushes you onto your back on the couch, no, he's smooth with it, hands running along your skin as he cages you in, as he rests his arms next to your head - but he's firm nonetheless. He takes control easily, moving you how and where he wants to, claiming your mouth, pressing his lips to yours. You let him. More even, you relish in giving in to him, in giving him control, in letting go, in trusting him. You bathe in his kisses, in his touches, in his soft grunts as he guides himself into you.

"Jake", you whine against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, eyes falling shut. The stretch is delicious, heavenly. He fills you slowly, dragging his lips down your throat as you tilt your head back and let out a filthy moan. Your legs wrap around him, pull him closer. His teeth graze your neck, drawing a moan from you as he settles. He gives you a moment to adjust.

A moment too long.

Way too long.

Even with his lips on your skin, with your nails dragging down his neck, digging into his shoulders, even with him inside of you, you need more. You need him to move. Right fucking now.

"Jake", you mewl, your eyes fluttering open. He raises his head to look at you and- Fuck, good lord. You've messed up his hair and his pupils are wide and his cheeks are red and he looks fucking heavenly. So heavenly that your breath catches. You forget what you wanted to say for a moment. Then his thumb brushes your cheek and you remember.

"Move", you breathe, digging your fingers into his skin and wrapping your legs around him tightly. You need him to move. But his lips tug up in that grin again and, as quickly as you can, you add- "Please, Jake."

His grin widens as he looks down at you, all pretty and desperate, clenching around him, lips parting in a silent moan. It would be so easy to tease you, so easy to make you beg and plead for him... And you'd look so gorgeous doing it. You're already so eager to please him.

But not tonight. Not right now. Right now, he just needs to make you feel good. So he leans down, presses a kiss to your lips and moves. Finally.

You open up to him eagerly, letting him run his tongue along yours, moaning into him as he thrusts into you. Deep and languid, hitting all the right spots like no one has before. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

You're really doing this. He's really doing this. You claw at his back, scratch down his skin, sure to leave bruises as he pulls his head up to look at you, to watch the way you arch up into him. Your skin glistens with sweat, your lips part to let out a breathy mewl and the coil in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens.

Jake shifts his weight onto one arm, frees a hand to brush his fingers through your hair, tugging, tilting your head back, exposing your throat to him. You moan at the ceiling as he drops a filthy kiss onto your collarbone before he lets go of your hair again, trailing his hand down your side instead - and his hand is so fucking big, so big as he draws it down your body, brushing his fingertips over your boob, sweeping over your hip, grasping your thigh. You pull him down onto you, crash your lips back onto his hard. You need to feel him, you need to kiss him, you need to hold him right now. You need him. You need this.

He smoothes his fingers down your skin until they catch on your clit.

"Jake", you moan into his mouth, pathetic even to your own ears. He only grins into the kiss and circles your clit as he thrusts into you, again and again and again, your legs clenching harder and harder and harder around him before he pulls away, pulls even further away even though you chase after his lips, his eyes roaming your face as you squeeze yours shut tightly.

"Look at me, darling", he drawls, his voice low and raspy, his fingers rough against your clit. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You let out some kind of deranged moan at his crude wording, opening your eyes and blinking up at him because there's no fucking way you can deny him. Not when he calls you darling like that. Not when he thrusts inside you just right. Not when the view of him, messy hair and grinning and all, has you clenching around him this hard.

You're close. So close.

"Atta girl", he mutters, and that does it for you.

Your legs cramp and your lips part again to let out a gorgeous little moan that Jake swallows up immediately, slotting his mouth over yours and drinking up the way you clench around him. It takes everything in him not to come too. You're so fucking pretty and you're clenching so fucking perfectly around him, but he needs to make you feel good first, he needs to make you come first, he needs...

"Jake", you mewl, face scrunched up, back arched, as he guides you through your second high of the night. "Fuck, fuck."

He's grinning when you come down. You grab his hand and pull it away from your clit. It's too much right now, too much. It takes a second for you to even realise that he's stopped moving entirely, too focused on watching you, on drinking up the sight of you, tousled hair and red cheeks and parted lips and all. You look like an angel, so fucking heavenly that he can't believe his eyes, not really.

"Jake", you mutter, slurring his name so prettily and pulling him in for another kiss, your arms loose around his neck, your fingers lazily brushing through his hair. "Come for me?"

It's barely more than a breath, barely more than a whisper onto his lips, but he hears it, oh, he hears it. He lets out a groan as he draws away again, his eyes roaming your face. You're unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable.

You're asking him to come for you. Begging him to come for you.

And there's no grin in sight, no smug smile, no hint of trying to take control of him - it's not a command, not even close, you're actually, genuinely pleading, your eyes half-lidded and barely focusing, just needing him to feel good now, too.

You're really fucking unbelievable.

He can't remember ever having a woman ask him to come.

He kisses you so hard you become dizzy, pressing his lips onto yours and tangling a hand into your hair. He pushes impossibly closer, thrusts back into you and pulls another string of moans from you, bordering on incomprehensible, hardly more than breaths, mewls that he swallows before they can flee into the empty air of the living room.

His own breathing comes in pants, his muscles clenching and tensing and he's there quicker than he thought he'd be. He's close, really close, and that's when you decide to dig your teeth into his lip and tug and fuck, he's there, alright. He's done then. He spills inside you with a groan, pulling back right as you flash him a dazed grin, eyes fluttering open to take him in.

Your throat feels way too dry all of a sudden.

You don't think you'll get this image out of your head ever again, this image of him coming undone on top of you. It's burning itself into your memory while you watch, never to be forgotten.

Because hell no, you won't forget this.

"Fuck", Jake groans, his voice all rough and hoarse and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips again, slow this time, almost soft. He brushes a thumb down your cheek, lightly cups your jaw and pulls you even closer, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

You tighten your arms around his neck a bit, keeping him firmly there, firmly on top of you, firmly inside of you. But he makes no move to leave, anyway. Just runs his tongue tenderly along yours, unhurried and gentle, and holds you close. You don't know for how long. He could've kept you there for eternity and you wouldn't have minded. How could you mind, basking in the afterglow like this, with his skin sticking to yours, his fingers grazing your cheek, his lips brushing against yours? No, really, you could've stayed there for the rest of forever.

But he pulls back after a while, of course, and pulls out, too. You let out some kind of disappointed mewl, but that's about everything you can do before he gently grasps your wrists and pulls your arms from around him, smiling in a way you can't even begin to complain.

"Lets get you cleaned up, darling", he says softly, carefully helping you sit up, his hands everywhere but nowhere nearly long enough.

You sigh dramatically, blinking your eyes open to look at him, even as you let him pull you up. Your legs feel like pudding. You feel like pudding.

"If we have to", you give in, smiling as Jake grins and shakes his head at you.

"We have to", he chuckles, hauls you up into his arms and waits for you to hold onto him before he carries you into the bathroom - seemingly fucking without any problem whatsoever, as if you weigh nothing at all to him.

You bite down on your lip and rest your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut to not have to look at him while you contemplate his strength. He should not be this fucking strong. He should not be allowed to be this fucking strong.

"Careful", Jake says, his voice low, as he sets you gently down on the toilet seat. You flinch away from the ice-cold seat against your thighs, fingernails digging into his shoulders for one, two, three seconds before you relax and settle down.

Jake lets go of you just as softly, steadying you until he's sure you won't just fall right off the toilet. He turns and you look up, his back right there to stare at, a smile tugging at your lips again - goddamn, he looks way too good, holy shit. You barely hear the garbage can open and close as he throws away the used condom, then rummages through the drawers until he finds a washcloth that he can soak in luke warm water.

He turns with a smile, grabs your chin tenderly and presses a kiss to your lips, just one, all sweet and languid, so unlike the rest of his kisses. You hardly notice that he's cleaning you off as he kneels down in front of you, simply because you're so entranced by him. God, but he really looks like he's fucking glowing, you hate him for having this effect on you.

He wraps his arms around you again - did he put the washcloth away? fuck, did you miss that? - and you cuddle close, almost (but just almost) letting out a pleased sigh. Fuck, he's so broad and so strong and so comfortable...

He sets you down on the couch and smiles.

"Wait here for me, darling", he mutters, bending down to pick up your shirt (his shirt, really) and slide it carefully over your head once again. You hug yourself close and settle deep into the couch as Jake disappears. His steps echo through the house.

Then there's silence.

Absolute silence.

You rest your head against the headrest and close your eyes, your fingertips absentmindedly drawing circles against your heated skin.

And in this quiet emptiness... the reality of the situation finally sinks in.

For the first time.

Because you just slept with Jake Seresin.

Jake Seresin. Your neighbour Jake Seresin. Your dad's best friend Jake Seresin. Twenty-two years older than you Jake Seresin.

Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.

This actually happened. This actually fucking happened. You slept with Jake Seresin. And somehow... somehow- Somehow you can't feel guilty. You can't feel bad or ashamed. Not like you should. And you definitely should. Because this is Jake Seresin, not some random frat guy. This is forty-seven year old, your dad's best friend Jake Seresin.

But you can't feel bad.

You really do try, for the entirety of a minute or two, while somewhere in the back of the house, a door is opened and closed again. But you still can't feel bad. So you don't.

Jake comes back with a water bottle and his briefs back on, which you can't help but feel disappointed at. He sits down on the couch next to you and hands you the bottle.

"Drink", he nods, so you uncap it carefully and take a sip. It's charming, really, how the first time you'd met him with your car broken down, he'd also handed you a water bottle. A grin tugs at your lips involuntarily. It's just coincidence, you know that, but there's something incredibly sweet about the way he's seemingly always made sure to keep you hydrated. There's something sweet about him, simple as that, with how softly he's cleaned you off and settled you down on the couch after.

You put the bottle down on the table and turn to him.

He looks almost normal again, almost like before. He's still nearly naked though (which you certainly aren't complaining about), and his hair still looks like he's just walked straight out of a hurricane. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take him in.

"We should probably talk about this", you say, your voice cracking halfway through. You're not sure you want to talk about it. And with the way Jake's face falls... yeah, he doesn't seem to, either. But he still straightens up and brings some more distance between the both of you.

Maybe that's smart, actually. Maybe. But then again, you've already done everything you could to try and feel bad, so instead of doing the reasonable (you're already way past the reasonable anyway) and pushing further away from Jake too, you stretch out a leg and drape it over his lap again.

A muscle in his jaw ticks and he grasps your ankle almost immediately, as if there's no other choice but to touch you even while he's trying to keep his distance.

"But", you grin, scooching a little closer as an idea forms in your mind, "You know, I still have to shower. Chlorine is so bad for the skin unless you wash it off. And I did spend quite a while in the pool today."

...

It's Monday afternoon and even hotter than the weeks before. You're sitting outside, sunbathing in the fifteenth layer of sunscreen of the day, with sunglasses on that hardly seem to do anything and wearing nothing but a bikini because god, you're fucking melting. It hasn't been this hot the entire year.

The only really good thing about the scorching heat is that Jake, for lack of swimming pools in his garden, is doing sets in yours. You're incredibly glad for your sunglasses, because even though your mother is sitting right next to you, burying her nose in another of the novels she'd checked out from the library two weeks earlier, you can ogle Jake without worrying that she'll catch you.

And goddamn, you're ogling, alright.

It's not like you haven't stared at him enough. Over the past five days, you've barely been doing anything else. Well, except for those times you'd had your eyes closed and his lips on yours, of course. But still, you don't really feel like you could ever possibly get enough of staring at him.

And right now, right now, with the way he climbs out of the pool, arms tensing and flexing, water dropping down his skin, his hands running through his soaking wet hair...

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You bite down on your lip and press your thighs together. God, if you aren't careful, you'll have to disappear into the house and shower early, because you're sure you could not pass the dark spot on your bikini bottoms off as sweat.

Jake turns away to grab his towel and starts to dry off and you're already mulling over how you'll phrase the message you'll send him (something along the lines of 'tell my parents you need to use the bathroom' with a shower selfie attached? You've already sent him way worse things while he'd been at work) when your mother suddenly gasps.

Three heads turn to her simultaneously.

"Jake!", she chokes, her book sinking down into her lap. Jake raises his eyebrows at her, just as clueless as you are. She parts her lips and then clamps her mouth shut again, apparently lost for words. "Your back."

It hits you like a tidal wave.

Oh, shit. Oh, holy fucking shit.

You should've noticed earlier. Much earlier. You should've- God, he'd known, too, hadn't he? But you'd been the one to stare at his back long enough that you should've noticed. Yesterday. You should've noticed the long, red lines running down his skin. Your long, red lines running down his skin. Fuck, fuck-

"Oh, that-"

Jake stumbles over his own words for the first time ever since you've met him. His eyes find yours, for just a moment or two, and you can see the panic in them. It's the second fucking day your parents are back. The second fucking day. And you're already messing up, you're already-

"I knew it", your mother grins, clapping her hands together and letting out a laugh that startles you so hard you flinch. "I knew you were a womanizer after all! I mean, looking like that, there's no other way-"

"Honey!", your father gasps, and she giggles and throws her hands up. But he's grinning too and you know him well enough to say he isn't really mad that she's complimenting Jake.

"Sorry, sorry, just saying." She chuckles to herself and grabs her book again, her voice dropping to a mumble. "I can't believe it though, we go away for five days and suddenly he's hooking up with someone! I think we need to stop inviting him over so often if we want him to find somebody."

Your father laughs and gets up to offer Jake a beer.

"You didn't happen to see who he brought home, did you?", your mother asks, her voice almost too casual to really be casual as she turns her head to look at you with raised eyebrows.

You choke on your breath.

"Um-", you start, but your father already rolls his eyes and saves you without meaning to.

"You're not nosy at all", he chides, resting his beer bottle against her foot. She tugs it away and shakes her head at him.

"Just curious", she grins. "Just curious."

Yeah. Just curious. You pray to god that just curious won't one day expose the little secret you've got going on with Jake. Next time, you'll really have to be more careful with your nails.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #dbf!jake seresin #dbf!jake seresin smut #x reader #dbf!jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin smut

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r0-boat · 3 months ago

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Whb kings at an amusement park

Beelzebub invites you and the kings to the greatest amusement park in all of hell located in his Abyssos.

And amusement park based in hell peaks your interest and since you're being invited along with the rest of the kings You would be dumb to not take it.

Satan

Gehenna has an amusement park. However, it is very different from Abyssos. Abyssos are more closely related to amusement parks on Earth, whereas in Gehenna, their parks are more active. So, honestly, Satan was a little confused when he could have found any trampolines or rock climbing walls or anything to punch and destroy for fun. However, the culture shock dies when he tries to ride a roller coaster. And he loves it! Holy fuck he loved roller coasters. Satan is an adrenaline junkie. Any fast ride that spins or goes fast or dives or drops he will be going there so fast. He will ride it till he pukes and then ride it again. The games he thinks are a little lacking, but only because his idea of games is something more active where he runs or, tosses, or swings something to get the aggression out.

Mammon

Mammon wishes he could ride the roller coasters but he does not think the seats will fit his size. in his personal opinion he finds the amusement parks and any other entertainment in Abyssos far more entertaining than the ones in tartaros. Since the people of Tartaros are more into electronic games and are more interested in staying in their luxurious houses and spending their money on material items and luxurious treatment, Mammon has yet to see an amusement park in Tartaros; well unless you count Resorts. Mammon will try any ride and he will love it all the same. Though he doesn't get how games work. Why work so hard to win one toy if he could get you hundreds of the same little stuff plush. So strange...

Leviathan

He hates this place. He hates everything about it! It's loud, crowded, and noisy; there are too many people he doesn't know. He wants to go home. Why is Abyssos so great? The parks in Hades are more relaxing, soothing, and tasteful than the rickety steel contraption that he barely trusts, which probably breaks all safety violations. He will only ride the slow, nice rides.

Levi is a master at the mini-games tho. (It's almost as if he had centuries of training. What? No. What are you talking about? Shut up! He has never seen this place in his life!) He will gladly show you anything, and it's fun to see you struggle at the stupid mini-game, where he can master it in one shot without even looking at the target.

Beelzebub

He knew you would like this park. It is grander than any park on earth. It has everything you could ever dream of and more no really everything... A Roman gladiator coliseum where demons fist fight bare naked where anyone could join in. The only rule was no killing each other. (inspired by the ancient Romans)

Beel is also a master at the games here and knows every ride and tells you how many times he's gone on it in his lifetime. He makes you try the food and the rides. He challenges Levi to the games "like the good old times." The reason why he invites you or the kings to a lot of his parties is because he likes to be a host. He's gluttony and he wants to have fun and he wants more fun, and what's more fun than sharing the fun with other people?

And then he gets swept up into the crowd. Damn it now you have to find him...

Lucifer

Interesting. He's never seen this side of hell before. An amusement park or anything entertaining like that is such a lost concept to him. He doesn't even know what to do. You must teach him to ride things, Play mini-games, and have fun. Which the Kings will happily do. Not every day do you teach the once God's favorite angel who has now fallen how to do ring toss. With every game and ride he goes on, He has more and more fun, and at the end, he responds with a simple "I like it," "It's okay," and "I don't mind it."

Belphegor+Beleth

Beleth got the king of sloth in one of those pull carts. Beleth doesn't mind; consider him as one of the kings. Honestly, he wants to catch up with Beel. Beleth plays all the games and rides for him until Beleth scolds him or Belphegor finally wants to get up from the cart and do something. Other than that, Belphegor is completely okay with watching. He prefers it. He likes watching. He feels like he's in the vicinity, he's participating in some way even though he's not actively doing anything.

The one ride he went on was the lazy river, which he proclaimed wasn't lazy enough. After that, he says he'll go on any other ride that doesn't move too fast, and all he has to do is sit. Other than that, he is happy just sitting here trying all the food, playing a game, or sitting with the stuff. He asks Beleth to take videos and photos.

#whb #whb leviathan #whb belphegor #whb beelzebub #whb mammon #whb satan #whb beleth #whb lucifer #whb x reader

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marlsswrites · 5 months ago

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Summer camp AU, part 1!

July 1st <3

Astrology - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1003

“Are you sure this is a good way to spend our summer?” Barty groaned as he Regulus and Dorcas walked into the entrance of the summer camp that they’d be working at for the next few weeks.

Regulus honestly didn’t expect to ever be somewhere like this, but ever since he moved out of his house and moved into Pandora and Evan’s when he was 18 a lot of things have become unexpected.

Pandora had managed to convince Barty, Regulus and Dorcas to help out with her and Evan at the camp this year, even though those three are the last possible people you would trust with kids. But for 20 year old university students, they’d take any chance at money they can get.

“It’ll be fun.” Dorcas insisted. “Plus we all get to spend some time together.” She smiled and spread her arms, pulling both boys in for a hug.

The summer camp was utterly massive, there were dozens of volunteers and the place would be swarming with groups of kids from ages six all the way up to sixteen tomorrow.

Another thing he’d forgotten to mention about this camp, his brother and his idiotic group of friends have been working here for years.

Regulus and Sirius had fixed their relationship, mostly. But Regulus has never actually met his friends, nor does he want to. He’s actually glad his parents separated him and Sirius at school, at least he didn’t have to deal with this lot.

“We will be assigning pairs before the kids arrive.” The leader spoke. “Each pair will live together and run group activities together.” She spoke. “Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier.” An excited squeal came from Barty. “Lily Evans and Pandora Rosier.” Pandora beamed and turned to stare at a smiling red head.

The list went on, Dorcas got paired with a blonde called Marlene. Both girls awkwardly shuffled towards each other. “Lastly, Regulus Black and James Potter in cabin 6.”

Fuck no. No- he’s not doing this with him. He’s heard so much about him from Sirius which just makes him hate him even more, he doesn’t want to be anywhere near that man. “You’ll be managing the 13-14 group.” Pointing at Regulus then to Potter, she smiled and put her clipboard down, leaving the group to find their partners.

He took a few steps backwards, hiding behind the crowd of people and praying that it takes Potter a while to find him. He stalked around to find cabin number six, it was by the edge of the woods and near a wide blue lake.

With a sigh he opened the already unlocked door and walked into the room, collapsing onto one of the two beds in the corner of the room.

It was so small in here, one small bathroom through a door in the back, a small kitchen in one corner and two beds placed on opposite sides on the back wall.

His friends knocked on ten minutes later, he sent them off and told them he’d talk to them tomorrow.

Thankfully, no one came to the hut after that until sunset.

Regulus sat on the pier, his baggy jeans rolled up just below his knees and his feet dangling into the ice cold water.

The sun had set, the sky turning a dark colour as the stars came out, the cloudless sky scattered with constellations. It was quiet, the only noises around him being the sound of the birds songs and the lapping of the smooth water.

Until the sound of leaves crunching came from behind him, footsteps sounding louder and louder until they stopped and a voice started speaking.

“Regulus, right?” The person spoke as they sat next to him.

Regulus didn’t want to answer, he knew who it was. He just nodded and hummed. It’s-

“James Potter, nice to meet you.” He held his hand out for Regulus to shake.

Hesitating and glaring at the hand, Potter spoke again. “I don’t bite.” He chuckled.

Regulus wanted to jump into the lake, damn Potter for being so nice. He was trying to be hateful right now but the tan, brunette and shockingly good looking man was making it really fucking hard right now.

With a sigh, Regulus took his hand, shook it and slipped his hand away instantly, going back to glaring at the water.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Sirius.” Potter smiled. “He loves talking about you.”

Regulus felt his ears prick up. “Really?” He spoke with a light to his grey eyes.

“It’s always ‘my little brother’ this and ‘Reggie’ that.” He laughed again, Regulus tried to ignore how much he loved his laugh.

Regulus nodded and went silent, now staring up at the very visible stars in the night sky. Ignoring the person next to him for a good five minutes before he got irritated at why he won’t just leave him alone.

“Why are you still here?” He snapped and looked over at the older boy, who was staring at the sky with a puzzled look.

The brunette shrugged, not taking his eyes away from the sky. “Do you like all this astrology stuff?” He asked and pointed at the sky.

“Astronomy.” Regulus corrected.

“Sirius tried to teach me about it, I didn’t really listen though.” Potter carried on as he narrowed his eyes at one of the brighter stars. “Is that the Sirius star?” He questioned and pointed upwards.

“That’s Arcturus.” Regulus spoke as he flicked his feet around in the water, even at night the air was surprisingly warm.

Potter made an ah sound and nodded. “H-“

Regulus cut off whatever he was about to say as he stood up. “I’m off to bed.” He walked along the pier, wet footprints marking the dry wood.

“Oh.” Potter sounded almost, disappointed? Strange. “Goodnight!” He yelled.

He wasn’t going to respond, but he walked a few steps in silence before breaking it. “Goodnight.” He spoke with a look over his shoulder and walked into the house.

Next part

a/n:

This is a continuous summer camp au, I’ve planned it for the whole month of July so there will be a part out every day! I’ll link all the parts once they’re out, enjoy!! <3

#marauders #james potter #james x regulus #jegulus #jegulus fic #regulus black #jegulus microfic #regulus x james #rosekiller #dorlene #sunseeker #starchaser #pandalily

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korereapers · 1 year ago

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I collaborated with the amazing @laxi0v0 for a cute little event we made in the scriddler server. This is Laxi's art about the fic I wrote, and HONESTLY HONESTLY i couldn't have asked for a better and more supportive partner. Her art is way better than I would ever dream on writing and honestly, Laxi, I'm so glad it was you bc we vibe a lot about our tastes w this ship.

The fic will be on ao3 later, but here, for you guys, before anyone else:

Jonathan takes a sip out his mug, nicely decorated with a pumpkin, the recipe of the pumpkin spice coffee perfected by him for decades. It’s warm, it tastes like fall, and it’s the start of what Jonathan considers to be the best time of the year.

It started like a small tradition for him, when he finally left home and started studying to become the psychologist he wanted to be. Halloween was to be celebrated, especially for freaks like him, abhorrent creatures that made great-granny’s skin crawl. He was proud of that, in a way. It was his moment, it still is, after all of these years, because he is still a freak, he belongs to this weather and these colors more than he belongs anywhere else. He belongs between ocher leaves and the smell of fog, the rain starting to fall over Gotham, only to leave when it’s summer again. The start of his kingdom, of the time he rules over.

Or it would be, if Edward wasn’t so adamant about going to freaking Starbucks.

He doesn’t get it, not really. A malnourished child from Georgia, surrounded by overworked kids that serve them with the most forced smile when Edward asks, yet again, for the infamous Pumpkin Spice Latte. With ice. Oatmeal milk. Whipped cream.

Jonathan wants to die.

“How is this even supposed to be spooky?”

Edward rolls his eyes, green contact lenses barely moving, as if they were starting to get glued to his irises. Which should be a bad sign, but Jonathan is, yet again, not his boyfriend’s keeper.

“Not everything has to be spooky when this time arrives, Jonathan.”

He kind of dislikes it, when he calls him by his full name. He calls him Jon when they are alone, when they are intimate, when their bodies or their hearts are entwined. He doesn’t like when he calls him Jonathan, because that means that Edward thinks he is being too bitter, complaining too much, a complete prick.

It’s not that he dislikes the stupid PSL, either, but it feels like desecrating one of his oldest traditions, and he feels as if he were betraying himself.

“Don’t you like my recipe, then? Do you dislike it so much we have to come here every single week?”

The cashier smiles at them awkwardly as Edward pays for their order, tipping the young lady generously.

“Do you have to take everything personally? I started getting here when I finally had my own money to spend. Is it that hard to just enjoy it, when I want to share it with you?”

Oh. A tradition. Jonathan distractedly drinks from his thematic glass, but says nothing.

They are really different, Edward and himself. To Edward, spending time and money like this… is almost a love language. It’s a lifestyle that he works hard to keep, having dinner in expensive places, getting coffee every time he can. Sharing it with him, because Jonathan is important to him.

Jonathan may be unable to feel fear, and his brain may be as damaged as Edward’s heart, but guilt still crawls its way into his psyche. It still makes him feel uneasy, because he cares, because he understands the feeling, because he wants to share his recipe with Edward because of the exact same reason.

He touches Edward’s hand when they sit, an apology he doesn’t utter but that can be felt in his irradiated orange eyes.

“I like it when you share time and nourishment with me.”

Edward’s expression softens, a glint of blue under the bright green contact lenses.

“Wow, when did you get emotionally aware?” his mouth says instead, and for a moment, Jonathan understands the Bat and his compulsion to punch him in the mouth.

“I’m a psychologist, Edward.”

“... right,” he mutters, his voice cheeky, still clearly a little mad, his thoughts loud. Jonathan loves that about him, his expression when he is deep in thought, when he is trying to understand something. A puzzle, a new riddle in their lives. “That recipe of yours is really important to you, too, if I’m guessing correctly.”

Jonathan nods, his eyes still on Edward’s, who seems to be feeling a little bit too shy to look at him, knowing that they are having an emotionally vulnerable moment.

“It is. I made it myself and… I want to share it with you.”

Edward does smile a little at that, his voice softer when he speaks.

“Let me try it later. I want to give it the thought and recognition it deserves.”

Jonathan’s thumb caresses Edward’s hand, his smile contagious. Like a well concocted virus.

“I would love to.”

—-------------------------------------------

Edward is pretty sure that he is (very unluckily, by the way) dating the man with the poorest taste in the world. Jonathan seems to think that he is hilarious, dressed in his usual costume, even the needles oozing toxin as he sits quietly on the couch.

There is a thing about him that Edward has always loved: how he becomes a different person when the mask is on.

They used to talk about it, back in the day, when they used to share a room in the Asylum. Jonathan felt naked without his mask, his expression dull and almost tense, devoid of what made him himself. Edward, at least, has managed to make those expressions change, the real Jon emerging from behind whatever aloof façade he tries to put on to protect himself, to pretend he is a regular human being and not the freak that makes his heart melt.

He must surely be smiling behind the mask, then. Edward can almost feel him vibrating in excitement, like a small child, and in a way, he kind of is. A reclaimed childhood, the enjoyment of a joy he wasn’t allowed to feel. He can understand that.

Still, the poorest fucking choice of a Halloween costume.

“Really, Jon? The most original idea, I have to say.”

Jonathan looks at him, and he can feel his piercing eyes even behind the mask, the expression of a predator, so dangerous it makes his face flush a little. Birds of a feather, both of them. The Scarecrow sighs, deeply, the sound distorted behind the mask. It’s creepy, he has to admit, which is probably… kind of the point.

“Like you’re one to talk, Herlock Sholmes.”

Edward gasps, indignant. His Poirot costume is nothing to be laughed at.

“Excuse me?!”

He can almost feel the smile behind the mask, because Edward knows him, he knows Jonathan is an avid reader, he knows the difference between Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle, for fuck's sake. He is doing this on purpose, to rile him up. He always is.

Edward's mind goes somewhere else, somewhere private. Somewhere where he is indeed riled up, and Jonathan touches his cheek, looking up at his face from behind the mask, Edward sitting on his lap, while long, dangerous hands go up his thigh, eyes hungry-

The doorbell rings. Edward goes back to reality, Jonathan's eyes on him as he moves towards the entrance, the tips of his ears surely blushing.

When he opens the door, he has to look down, because damn, kids sure look tinier these days. He cannot remember to be this short, this innocent, this…

Happy.

He feels Jonathan's chin on his shoulder, almost jumping in place because the man is silent like a ghost, no matter how eager he is to take part in the holiday.

One of the kids is wearing a Batman costume, and Edward tries his hardest not to roll his eyes, with better or worse success. Another kid is dressed as Harley Quinn, what makes him wonder if these parents are in need of any kind of psychological help. The youngest, a child dressed as Wonder Woman, looks at them with badly hidden mischief, and Edward feels tempted to just close the door.

"Trick or treat!" They ask in unison, and before Edward can answer, Jonathan drops a bag in front of them, full of who knows what, but the kids don't ask.

Such blissful ignorance.

"Thank you Mister Holmes! Mister Scarecrow!" The girl dressed up as Batman says, and the one dressed as Wonder Woman purses her lips in disgust.

"Poirot's moustache isn't like that. You're a fake."

The kid dressed as Harley Quinn laughs in response, taking the bag of candy and running away with Wonder Woman. The one dressed as Batman follows who Edward believes to be her sisters, and he blissfully thanks that they don't have any children.

"Please tell me the bag is full of drugs."

Jonathan chuckles a little, his arms around Edward's waist.

"Hershey's," is everything he says, his sudden lack of malice and evil intent a headache for Edward.

"Oh, Jon. Are you going soft on me?"

Jonathan's smile can be felt in the air, a predator, a killer awaiting their next victim.

"Me? Oh, darlin'..." he whispers against Edward's ear, his distorted voice making him shudder in anticipation. "Never."

#scriddler #my stuff #and laxi's #dc #riddler #scarecrow #edward nygma #edward nigma #edward nashton #jonathan crane #i love you laxi.... really

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months ago

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AITA for saying I'm not rich?

Wait stop hear me out

So the thing is, my father is wealthy. Or at least he made enough money to have two Ferraris and a boat, which to me are the most useless things because why would u spend that money on this when u could spend it on food or commodities but details

When I was young, any time I asked for money or something, he'd make a huge deal about it. He'd make me feel awful, so awful that I just stopped asking for anything at all, starting from my teenage years to my college years, and I survived entire months, living alone during college, with 50 dollars to get by. For groceries and bills. And yes, he was nice enough to pay for my rent (170 dollars back then) but every time I'd be the worst piece of garbage for asking him. Worst thing was, I wanted a job, but he had this delusion that any sort of job that would take me, basically customer service, i wanted was "underneath my daughter" so he legit didn't let me and he'd go to big, big hoops to not allow me to do so

I'd never buy clothes or other necessities: I spent my teenage years just putting together what I got from relatives to make some savings, and I'd survive on that. He'd go splendid on my birthday and christmas, I guess, he'd buy me things, but I came to dread those days because the thought of him spending money -and how he reacted to it- always sent me into a blind panic so yes even though I got nice gifts I was never happy about it and I really really don't like my birthday

So I was always the girl who had two Ferraris to my friends, and they'd always get mad at me when I honestly told them "actually Im not rich" or "I'm sorry I'd rather go to the cheaper place" - because I legit thought i wasn't - and called me an asshole. But This was my father's money and I lived with him, but I rarely saw an actual dollar, everything I bought was with my savings and I spent years and years accumulating it, hoarding it. So I lived in this fancy house, but I'd wear 3 dollar pants and worn shoes because that's what I could afford with my money.

Note that even paying my school fees was a nightmare to me, because my father openly said I was a parasite and screamed at me but whATEVER

So um, my friends always said i was an ass for saying I didn't have any money, when my father was swimming in it. But when u survive on the allowance ur aunt gave u for an entire month, u really don't feel like it? and I always always felt so bad about it, because it felt like they were right and I was an asshole for pretending I don't have money. Except I didn't. I really didn't. That was all his, not mine, and while he did pay school and college flat rent, he was always making sure I knew what a burden I was for it. So yes, I'd still say I was actually not rich - even though I was lucky enough to have someone pay for me.

Anyway yeah AITA for saying I'm not rich? Tbh I really don't know if I can consider myself that, when it's not mine and I've never actually used it, it doesn't feel like it, but some tell me that's my privilege and I guess that could be right

Note: I am a grown adult now, I live on my own, pay my own things and have my job. And he's happy that he doesn't have to pay for me anymore, is baffled by my relationship with money (I don't like spending it ahah), not so much about me not living with him though. (The weird thing is he wants me with him, but not to take care of me which, honestly, valid) I do have a better relationship with him, but we never talk money because I live on minimum wage - ironically enough in costumer service - and he doesn't, so to me spending 60 on groceries is a lot (150 bills destroy me honestly, so winter is a joy) and he always, always mocks me for it. It's weird how he goes around with a Rolex and snuffs me for wearing Primark pants and then people constantly just... Think I have money at all and get mad at me when I say I don't

Anyway yeah AITA for saying I'm not rich? Tbh I really don't know if I can consider myself that if it's not mine, if I've never actually used it, it doesn't feel like it, but some tell me that's my privilege and I guess that could be right

#aita #am i the asshole

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sensei-venus · 1 year ago

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S1 Robby Keene Liking A Good Girl

(Unedied) (Honestly kinda tame for S1 Robby, Drugs mentioned, Weed Smoking, Drug Dealing, Reader had mentioned anxiety??) ( @gemini-sensei )

😈💕He’s kind shy at first when he realizes he may have a crush on the new girl at school. He sees her in the hallways, in class, at lunch, in the parking lot. He sees her everywhere. It doesn’t help that she is a “good girl” in his book. She’s not rich or stuck up, she’s just too nice in his opinion and doesn’t do anything that he would consider bad. To him he had no chance with her, he definitely didn’t fit in her kind of world.

😈💕It wasn’t until he found out that she had anxiety super bad that his views on her started to change. It was weird how all of it started.

“I uh heard you might have some weed?” She was a little nervous as she corned him in the parking lot outside the school. The bell rang over a hour ago and his friends ditched him not long after. She had come out of no where, clenching the arm of her backpack. He raised a brow at her appearance.

“I have my card if that makes this better, I just don’t have enough money this month to go the dispensary. My insurance won’t cover the amount I need- I kinda wasted half of mine if accident. You don’t want to know.” She nervously giggled. It wasn’t like Robby was going to question her on it. Honestly he didn’t really care either. He looked for the nicest bag he had on him, and secretly he may have given her more then he said. She dished out a good few bucks before wondering off. Robby was quick to count it and noticed that she had given him WAY more then was needed. Before he could even say something she was already gone. He pocketed the extra and tried to not think about it.

😈💕It started to get harder for him to pretend his little daydream crush wasn’t starting to get bigger as the days went on. He started to see her more and more in and out of school. She would give him small waves and smiles, which he gave back in smirks and grins. He hoped he didn’t look like to much of a asshole. But with his friends watching be and to keep his guard up. The boys where already getting supsious of his feelings.

😈💕He really didn’t think she would come back to him for more weed after that month. But she did, asking for the same amount every time. She simply told him that it was cheaper to get it from him then the dispensary. He didn’t know if that was true but he didn’t care. As long as he got to spend a few minutes with her every now and then. She quickly started to warm up to him, no longer acting as nervous or scared around him. Smiling more and even cracking a few jokes which he admitted made him smile. She was just so cute that he couldn’t help it.

😈💕One day he just couldn’t take it anymore and asked her if she wanted to go smoke with him. At first she was little embarrassed but happily accepted his offer. He had no intention of taking her to the little hideout where the other guys liked to smoke. So he decided to take her to his place. His mom had been gone for weeks and even if she did find them in the apartment smoking, she couldn’t say much. Her drinking and pills where enough to throw back her way to get out of a little weed smoking. It was a Saturday when she came over. He tried his best to get the place cleaned up, made sure the light bill was actually paid that month. Showing up at his door with a bag full of junk food and a small giggle on her lips.

😈💕They spent the rest of the day on the couch smoking and watching tv. It was nice, it was nothing like when he smoked with the guys. They where always high and taking shit about anything they could think of. There was no peace and quiet which is what he liked. Just getting high and chilling out for a few hours. Reader seemed to like the same thing as she just sat quietly next to him. Only occasionally laughing and giggling at what they where watching. They both seemed to like watching cartoons while high. The pretty colors and high pitch voices making them laugh.

😈💕It started to grow late but Reader didn’t seem to care. She offered to order a pizza which Robby had no issue with. They ended up eating and smoking more while watching a late night show together. That was when things started to change in the vibe that was going on between them that night.

😈💕 “You ever shotgun before?” It was a smile question. She asked while looking over at him on the couch. Robby didn’t know what to say, he knew what it was but had never actually tried it. She slowly shook his head. Reader giggled saying “Well do you want to try it? You can say no if your don’t want to.” He raised a brow before thinking it over in his head. He could at least give to a try, and he would be doing it with Reader of all people. The girl he had a huge ass crush on. With a small nod Reader smiles and takes a nice drag of the blunt she was smoking. Soon enough her soft hands are cradling his cheeks as she leans over to him. Their lips meet in a soft kiss, her tongue prodding at his bottom lip trying to get him to open up. With just a small amount of energy he finally does. She gently blows a long stream of smoke into his mouth. He can’t help but moan a little as he takes it into his lungs.

😈💕A few seconds later the kiss gets hotter and hotter. He’s grabbing at her soft thighs and belly though her shirt. Her hands move, one cradling his neck and the other on his back. Her fingers dig into the flesh of his shirt covers back. He rolls his shoulders as his tongue works along side hers. Smoke escaping though their lips. He can’t tell who is being louder with their moans. As the minutes pass by he can tell this isn’t the high that’s making them like this so much. Reader is fully invested in this kiss. Robby smirks into the kiss as he starts to realize this must have been her little plan. Offering to help teach him how to shotgun. God she was so smart.

😈💕The rest of the night is spent kissing and cuddling on the couch together. Robby doesn’t even care anymore about school or his friends. If messing with the chubby good girl was so wrong, so be it.

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missblissy · 9 months ago

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So I saw that your inbox is open for hazbin requests

Could you do a Vox x Hellborn!Reader, like a succubus or something, so they can travel to the other rings but since hes a sinner he can't and say the reader is planning to attend a party in a different ring and just overall some fluffy clingy vox trying to convince reader to stay home and stay with him instead

If not that's okay !! Have a good day <3

((Ofc nonny! I had a lot of fun with this one! I've never seen any Hellborn!readers or even hellborn!OCs X Canon which honestly this was really refreshing!! Anyways, enjoy!!))

It didn’t look right. It didn’t feel nice… nothing felt nice. You pulled the bracelets off your wrist with a sigh and plucked the matching earring out as well. Another deep sigh, a huff, just hot air puffing from your chest in defeat. In the mirror you looked yourself over again, you couldn’t find anything to wear to the party your friends were having in the lust ring. As a hellborn you could move freely between all of hell, but you willingly choose to live in the pride ring.

Turning slightly you looked at your side profile, then your backside… “Ugh,” You groaned. Normally you’d be thrilled at the chance to travel to the Lust Ring. You kind of where… But you weren’t exactly keen on running into the recent drama your friends have been having.

While taking in your reflection you could see a spark in the corner of the mirror. Then a few more as they zigzagged to the floor. If lightning could produce people, Vox would always be at the source. He appeared behind you, a smile on his face and a clever yet sneaky twinkling shimmering in his eyes.

Hands slithered and snaked along your hips, stopping to rest on your waist. A soft buzz and hum of electricity crawled along your skin and into your ears as he spoke, “What’s with the long face, little star?” The pet name never ceased to fluster a blush on your cheeks, “Another fight with the friends?” That amused look on his face said he already knew the answers to his question.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of many spy cams peeking out from the dark. He was always watching, and Vox was waiting until he saw that little smidge of doubt or frustration for him to come and make his move, “You know you can always stay the night here~” He cooed while swaying you just that little bit closer to him.

You had to fight back a giggle or riggle from his grasp. His needy tendencies were honestly rather cute. Vox was confined to the Pride Ring, so he could never follow you lower into hell, and nor could he protect you, or even spy on you. His powers stopped with pride.

Which explained why he’d always glow and bicker and pull at the idea of you staying home, here. Safe. Where he can keep an eye on you. Where you wouldn’t be harmed.

Being a Hellborn, sure, you could hold your own. But you were far more at risk of permanently dying than Vox was. And that scared the living shit out of him. You could easily perish by a bullet from a regular old gun or a stab of a knife. Meanwhile, if such conventional means happened to Vox he’d just suffer through the pain until he healed or repaired the damage to his body.

Vox tugged at your side a little more, a hum in his voice as he continued to lay on the affectionation. One, two, maybe three minutes passed before you let out such a heavy sigh you fell back into Vox’s chest for support, “I really wanted to go to this party, though,” You turned your gaze just enough to meet his, “Verosika Mayday is supposed to be making an appearance, I really love her concerts,” You whined.

At the same time did you really want to spend all the time and money getting down a few rings just for a petty fight between your friends to ruin it all? You could take it or leave it at this point. And Vox with whatever sixth sense he had smelled the doubt and your unsureness.

Normally, that being 9 times out of 10, there was no way Vox was going to talk you out of anything. Perhaps that’s something he really loved about you, that you were just as stubborn and headstrong as him. And you wouldn’t let anyone, including Vox, stop you from doing or getting what you wanted.

But here he could already tell you were second guessing on even going to some stupid party you’d probably go to again next week. To be fair, he was getting a little sick and tired of you leaving every weekend and going places he couldn’t reach.

The charm was ramped up to the max. You were suddenly spun around, a gasp of surprise jumping from your chest. You came face to face with Vox, a low blue glow from off his screen. Then a sweet, nostalgic song started playing, the source simply being Vox himself.

“Who needs to see some singing bitch when you have one right here?” His tune was out of it and his hum was giggling but still, he began dancing you around, you in his arms and his hands holding tight, “I’ll take you to the moon~” The smile on his face only got bigger, and he drew you in close and tried to steal a kiss, “Get you higher than a balloon~”

Twisted little notes, electric melodies, Spanish guitars, and suave singing were this man's go-to. He controlled everything in this tower, and the lights dimmed and changed colors. Vox made his own little world for the two of you, hidden behind all the showmanship and effects, you could easily mistake yourself suddenly on a sandy pink beach.

“I can take you anywhere, my star, and we don’t even need to leave the penthouse,” Your heart started doing those silly flips and flops, battering around in your chest. You ate every bit of attention up. When Vox spoiled you like this, when he wanted something, good gods you could watch him all night.

That didn’t mean you didn’t try your best to put up a fight, teasingly you whined out and dipped yourself backward only for Vox to catch you, one hand in the small of your back while the other caught your leg, “But how else am I going to get my fix of fun?” You dramatically called out, sarcasm laced in your words.

“I’m the definition of fun, sweet cheeks,” He pulled you back to him, chest to chest, locked in a tango. Every step you took backwards he took a stronger one forward, legs getting tangled but never once did either of you trip. This playful dance was nothing new to you, so each step was gracefully placed.

You faked a yawn, fanning your hand, and tried to look bored despite the growing grin and flare of passion and fire in your eyes. You tease Vox a little more, falsely attempting to flee from him.

Only for Vox to snatch you closer with a grip twice as tight as before. A second of pleading flashed across his face only to be replaced by a sharp smirk. Where his hands made contact with you, sparks of snapping bolts shocked you lightly. Vox laughed out as you jumped in his arms, poured, and gave a mini glare, “You know you like it when I bite,” Vox’s face got closer to yours, the cheeky grin of his eating you away from the inside out.

“Hmph!” Another shock traveled from him to you, causing a gasp of air while his voice drew closer to your ear. It was barely above a whisper… a beg…. A plea. His face was hidden in the crook of your neck while the vibrations of his vocals greeted you.

“Please,” His voice was low. The two of you had stopped moving. And he clung onto you in a more desperate attempt… his walls fell and his true nature came out, “Please stay home tonight,” The cling of a desperate man who didn’t want to let you out of his sight, was enough to melt your heart, “I don’t want to be unable to see you,” Vox said, you understood what he meant even though he still added, “Or to protect you,”

With little effort and carefully, you pulled away just enough to get a good look at those sad puppy dog eyes of his. Your smile was half there, and half in a bantering smirk. You gave him that kiss he tried so hard to get earlier, a soft one. But long enough to hold you there stuck on his lips. When the two you broke, your smile was full there though your voice still was laced with teases, “Fine,” You said, “But I want to watch a movie,”

There were a few seconds of buffering while Vox took in your answer. A large grin took up his whole face as he let out a laugh and spun you around on the spot, “Thank you!” You didn’t normally hear those words coming from Vox, so it had a nice ring to hear him say it.

He set you down, planting kisses all over your face but not letting you out of his grasp just yet, “Go down stairs and pick something to watch,” He hummed with joy, “I’ll order us something to eat,” He added, still giving a plethora of kisses between words. You giggled and laughed and bubbled out chirps of joy as he spoiled you with affection. He was utterly perfect, and too lovely for you by every degree. You nodded your head and made sure to run off as fast as you could because now you didn’t want to spend another second away from him.

#hazbin hotel #x reader #asks #inbox #anon #nonny #vox #vox x reader #reader x vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #reader inserts #vox hazbin #hellborn!reader

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rafesgoldrings · 8 months ago

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Oh girl my request rn is more poly rafe kelce and topper! Whether it be fluff or some spicy spicy smut. Like their day to day life or how they take turns taking her out on dates and then all come back and treat her good 🥵

They’re backkkk🤭 I honestly missed them sm and had so much fun writing for them. I hope you guys enjoy it🫶🏻

Warnings: not proof read, light degradation, Rafe calls reader a pretty bitch one time, reader is called a slut like twice

So your day to day life is actually fairly normal, there’s still lots of flirting and subtle touches but for the most part you guys just hang out. You’ll go shopping or go with them to the gym, go out on the boat before grabbing dinner, hang out and watch a movie or attempt to play video games with them (which always ends in a (“Oh my god Y/N just put the controller down and come sit”), nothing too crazy. But the dates? The dates are a complete different story.

They have a schedule, it was the only way to ensure that each of them were getting equal alone time with you to avoid jealousy and fights. It usually stayed pretty consistent but did change occasionally if one of your boys has a special request or something happened. Monday is Toppers day, Wednesday is Kelces, and Friday is Rafes, the ones between that were ones for you to have the day to yourself or for you all to hang out as a group.

Topper usually kept it pretty casual, sweet, but casual with something like a picnic or lunch at the country club. Beach dates were your favorite, just enjoying the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore while you rested in the others arms, the soft breeze caressing your skin. He also liked to go shopping for things, clothes, jewelry, books, art supplies, whatever you had an interest in that day, he obviously would pay for it all. Even telling you not to bring any money because ‘pretty girls don’t pay for themselves’. Boat dates are another common thing for the two of you, he’d bring your favorite blanket and sweater of his with him for when you inevitably got cold once the sun started to set. He’d of course go somewhere secluded so he could pull your bikini off and fuck you while the sun hit you, the possibility of getting caught make it so much hotter than normal.

Kelce was more of the sporty/stay in date type. He loved to take you golfing, even if all you did was look pretty and tease him by bending over in the short little skirt he bought you, and then treat you to a nice candlelit dinner. Almost always preferred it near the water too, said it was more romantic when your skin was illuminated by the soft flame and it was just the two of you and the soft waves. But on days he didn’t feel like going out, he’d set up a blanket fort in the living room stocked with ALL of your favorite snacks and drinks. He’d put the little fairy lights inside of it like the one he remembered you showing him a while ago, put an air mattress inside with tons of pillows and soft blankets, light up your favorite scented candle, make sure it was as romantic and cozy as possible. He’d put on some of your favorite movies or attempt to teach you to play the games he liked, but it almost always ended with your clothes scattered on the floor. Waking up the next morning with your limbs intertwined and bare skin sticking to each other from the small layer of sweat that formed.

Rafe, as we all expected, is the fancy one. He’s buying you dresses to match his suit, diamond earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets, shoes, just making sure you’re taken care of before the date even happens. He’d take you to the nicest restaurants, go on shopping sprees where you picked out whatever you wanted (yes that includes any lingerie shops you stumble across), go out on the yacht and stop at the local yacht club for dinner, even fly you out in the private jet somewhere for the day. He had the money and he would happily spend it all on you if it made you happy. He rarely ever stayed in on his nights unless you asked, if he did there wasn’t much going on other than him making it his goal to fuck you on every surface in the house. He was always horny around you, you were just so pretty and got his cock hard immediately. Half the time he couldn’t even wait until you were home before he was pulling his range rover to he side of the road and fucking you in the backseat, or over the hood of it, or making you ride him in the drivers sit so your tits were bouncing in his face.

They all took care of you in their own way, sexually and non sexually, but together? Together the pleasure tripled, every inch of your skin being touched, your brain completely shut off from their hands on you and their cocks burying themselves in your pretty holes. Rafe usually teasing you for it with a little degrading comment like ‘pretty bitch can’t even concentrate on anything but being a slut’. Top usually went for a mix of the two, he was usually the one teasing you while also encouraging you to keep going ‘Such a desperate slut for us huh baby? But you’re doing so good, so pretty too, just a little more pretty girl’. Kelce was almost always the one giving you praise unless he was pissed or felt like he had something to prove, ‘God princess, so pretty. This pussy is so pretty too, doing so so good. I know it hurts but you can do it, you’re made for us so I know you can baby. That’s it, good girl baby’.

The mix of praise and degradation from each one making your head spin and bringing you closer to your orgasm until you snapped, making a giant mess all over whoever was inside you at the time. Nipples being pulled and pinched and sucked, clit being spit on and rubbed until you were crying out that it was too much, each one taking a turn tasting you and trying to push their cum inside you deeper than the last. It was like their version of a group date, who could make you feel the best, who could cum the most, who made you cum the most. It was your thing and none of you would change that, you were theirs and they were yours.

Either way, you’d never go a day without being taken care of and spoiled. Even without the physical contact your phone would be blowing up with texts from each of them. Complements, pet names, voice messages, pictures, anything you could think of they were doing to ensure you were thinking about them always and knew they were thinking about you. Honestly convinced they have a separate group chat just to gush about you outside of the normal one where they try to one up each other

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #kelce obx #topper thornton #poly!kooks x kook!reader #topper thornton imagine #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton smut #kelce outer banks #kelce x reader #kelce imagine #kelce smith #obx imagine #obx smut

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brotherwtf · 2 months ago

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hi :)) having age gap thoughts again, this time with young john and older gale. lanky wide-eyed john who's sweet and bright but constantly criticised by his rich parents for being too hyperactive + seasoned fighter pilot gale who's the best at his job but also incredibly lonely despite pretending that's exactly how he likes it. much to consider...

OMG REVERSE AGE GAP AU AGAIN YES YES YES

okay but this premise is also super great because it's very similar to my original age gap au where John is in the military, but honestly Gale being a fighter pilot is also so tasty and scrumptious thinking thoughts thinking thoughts

John's a pretty rowdy college kid, one who's being sent to a nice school on "Daddy's money", and he's honestly excited to go to school and learn. He wants to become an engineer, wants to work at NASA or in the military, but his parents want him to become a doctor and become rich like them, so there's a lot of tension between them

John continues to study engineering despite his parents wishes, and he meets Gale on campus when he's visiting one of his professor friends. And on God, John is instantly starstruck

Gale just looked so cool in his flight jacket and black jeans, aviators pushing honey blonde curls back from his forehead, piercing blue eyes serious and beautiful

John's professors points him out and Gale turns his gaze towards John, and John immediately flushes when Gale's gaze meets his, something stern and cold, but still beautiful nevertheless

what if John's professor suggests that John shadow Gale a couple of times, just to see if he likes the environment that Gale works in, and John's ecstatic but Gale's hesitant, claiming that it's not safe for someone so young to be around something like that, to which John will probably obnoxiously respond with something stupid and charming, claiming he's not too young

so that's how Gale is forced to bring John along to the air base, give him tours and show him the ins and outs of being a pilot, and John absolutely loves every second of it

Gale shows John his plane, named "Marjorie" after his late wife, and John notices the twinkle in Gale's eye when he talks about her, but also notices how incredibly lonely Gale seems to be

something something John and Gale start spending a lot of time together, even outside of the designated shadowing times, and Gale would be the last one to admit how much he enjoys John's company

it's on the anniversary of Gale's wife's death that Gale finally allows himself to accept that being lonely and in solitude is not good for him, and he thinks he's found someone who he would be willing to not be lonely with, and so he kisses John in the air base before he leaves

John of course is shocked, he had been starstruck and nursing a crush for Gale for so long, and now that Gale finally kissed him, he kisses back with a fervor

anyway after they start dating I think Gale would take John on some joyrides so that's super fun and cute :))

#clegan #mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #asks

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lilmoonbunny · 11 months ago

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Would you write some re8!chris redfield sugar daddy headcanons?? With fem reader please☺️

Of course! Sorry that this took so long, I've been sick D:

I wasn't sure if you wanted them to end up together, but I've added some of that too but I'll split it up with a header.

NSFW below the cut as usual :)

Chris makes a lot of money and has pretty much no use for it, so he figured that he would help someone else which is how he ended up on a sugar daddy website.

He wasn’t too sure about it at first. Everyone seemed quite boring, but then he met you.

You were sweet, kind, and seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him and you guys ended up meeting up.

It was a bit awkward at first, Chris being rather quiet, but you happily carried the conversation and helped him feel more comfortable with talking to you. Eventually, you were both chatting as though you had known each other for years.

You told him what you did with your life, and he shared what he could about his job.

Then it came to discussing your arrangement.

He liked you and wanted to help you with money, especially considering that you had expressed how you were struggling for cash at the moment.

Chris didn’t want to pressure you into sex or anything you weren’t comfortable with. In all honesty, he just wanted company whilst he was home. He didn’t have many friends and the few that he did have weren’t around often.

He felt slightly pathetic paying for company, but you reassured him that it’s okay and that he doesn’t have to. That was the main reason he chose to go with it; you were a genuinely sweet girl.

You two arranged to meet once a week, but often you met more than that since you both enjoyed each other’s company.

You’d go shopping together and anything that you looked at for more than a second, Chris would buy you, even when you insisted that he didn’t have to.

He gave you $200 each time you guys met up which ended up being a lot when you started meeting multiple times a week.

You did feel slightly guilty for it, but he was quick to tell you it was okay and that he enjoyed helping you. Your consideration for him was one of the reasons that he really liked you.

Chris would be lying if he said that he wasn’t attracted to you. He had gotten off to the thought of you multiple times but would never tell you that. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything.

Chris starts paying you more after a few months. He wanted to make sure that you were going to stay before he increased your allowance.

It got to a point where he didn’t want you to leave and started asking to meet up more often. You, of course, agreed. You really enjoyed his company also. The money was nice too.

Your ‘dates’ gradually became more frequent and eventually you would spend time around his place. That was how your first sexual encounter happened.

You two were having takeout and watching a movie when you accidentally brushed his thighs. He tensed and prayed that he wouldn’t get hard. Not everything happens the way you wish in life, and he did.

You didn’t seem to notice at first, but you did after a few moments.

You didn’t hesitate to ask if he wanted help with that and Chris froze.

It was obvious, at least to you, that you were attracted to him and wanted him.

“You don’t have to. It’s fine, honestly, it’ll go away.” He said, feeling bad for making you feel that way.

“I want to, Chris.”

He hesitated for a moment, shifting to adjust himself so his pants weren’t as tight.

“Are you sure?”

You moved to his lap, kissing his neck and he groaned at the sensation.

“Absolutely.”

You didn’t sleep together that night. You two made out and you ended up giving him a blowjob. Chris swore he could have cum just from watching you with your swollen lips around his cock and his hand in your hair.

It wasn’t awkward like he expected it to be. The way you smiled up at him made him feel comfortable with you.

He paid you extra that night and you kissed his cheek after he drove you home.

You two ended up meeting even more after that night, most of them ending in the same way.

You mainly focused on his pleasure, but he wouldn’t let you without returning the favour. In fact, it was usually you who came first from his fingers whilst you sat on his lap, lips attached to his neck.

He gets off on getting you off. Loves hearing you moan and seeing your blissful face as you cum.

The first time you two had sex, he had to hold himself back. You were just so perfect for him, and he could have cum within seconds just from how good you felt around him.

Eventually, though, Chris ended up developing actual feelings for you, more so than just a friendly companion. He cursed himself so much over this and planned on never telling you out of fear of making it awkward; he really didn’t want you to leave him.

It was the same for you, of course. It wasn’t just about companionship and money anymore; you genuinely liked him.

With your meetings becoming more frequent, it was hard to hide your feelings, but thankfully for you, Chris is pretty much oblivious to such a thing, so the blushing cheeks weren’t too worrying.

Chris, however, didn’t have to work too hard to hide his feelings. His job had him hiding a lot of his emotions, so it was quite natural to him. Although, it was somewhat obvious with how often he was asking you to meet up and how he was paying you more, but you didn’t want to read into it too much, worried that it was just your feelings making you think this.

Despite how well he could hide his feelings, he wasn’t exactly good with jealousy, so when he found out you were hanging out with a guy who clearly liked you, he wasn’t happy.

Chris knew that he had no right to feel this way, you weren’t his, but he couldn’t help it. He really really liked you, and the thought of you being with someone else hurt him in a way he never knew could. So, he did something he shouldn’t have, he called you to come over.

His voice sounded stern on the phone which had you worried that you had done something wrong. All the way to his apartment, you were anxious.

The moment the door closed behind you, Chris’s lips were on yours, one hand on the back of your neck whilst the other rested on your waist.

You were shocked, but quick to reciprocate the kiss.

“Chris, what’s wrong?” You asked after you two had slept together. “You seem sad.”

Chris hesitated for a moment, avoiding your gaze for a second as he figured out what to say to you.

“I don’t like seeing you with other men.” He said, and immediately your cheeks felt warm.

“Why?”

“Because I like you, as more than a sugar baby and definitely more than a friend.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply kissed him again, hoping it expressed your feelings to him.

It was a sweet kiss, unlike the others before.

“I like you too, Chris.”

#resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fanfic #resident evil chris #resident evil chris redfield #Chris Redfield #Chris Redfield x reader #Chris Redfield imagine #Chris Redfield imagines #Chris Redfield fanfiction #Chris Redfield fanfic #Chris Redfield smut #Chris Redfield smuts #resident evil smut #sugar daddy au

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elizabethwritesmen · 9 months ago

Text

The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 6 : October 28, 2023

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: it’s halloween and your treat is a visit from ghost but it turns into more of a trick when a new bartender gets a little too friendly with him. you do what you’ve got to do to keep his eyes on you and end up with more than you bargained for.

warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), degradation and praise, dancing on a bar, public nudity, reader gets harassed again, simon gets angry again, slut shaming and a lot of shit talking about the new bartender goes on in this chapter, i think that’s all but let me know if i missed anything!

series masterlist

October 28, 2023

The bar was having a Halloween party.

I didn’t want to go, I’d been working all day at my new job and was exhausted, but Sabrina insisted.

What was my new job, you might ask? Well, the previous May I’d graduated with a Masters in criminology. I wanted to seek higher education but was still deciding what and where. In the meantime, I was interning at a law office nearby. It paid shockingly well, they were a small practice but extremely successful and valued their employees a lot so they showed it by giving them a lot of money.

I didn’t have time to go pick out a costume, so Sabrina assured me she would get me one, much to my dismay. Due to this, I went there straight after work, bringing my makeup and stuff with me so I could just get ready at the bar like I had many times before.

She met me at the door with a bag and shoved it in my hands, giggling all the while, making me frown. What had she cooked up?

I was mortified when I opened the bag and found combat boots, the smallest black dress I had ever seen, and someone’s fatigue shirt. Whose? I don’t know. I wondered the same thing.

“I am so not wearing this. Somewhere is bound to be open, I’ll go see-“

“NO! You know good and well this is the best way to get these dumbass military boys to buy you drinks.”

“Who says I want these dumbass military boys to buy me drinks?”

“You do, trust me, you need a night of flirting with a bunch of men more than anyone else I know. Now get your sexy ass in the back and get ready!”

I sighed, rolling my eyes so hard I thought they would get stuck that way, and did as she told me, heading to the small room in the back that we usually changed and touched up makeup in. It had bad lighting but we’d placed lamps in front of the mirrors, and it had a small set of lockers for anyone who worked there to put valuables in, but they didn’t actually lock so I didn’t understand the purpose of them.

Once I managed to get everything on, I had to admit I looked good. Turned out the dress was basically just a nearly sheer lace slip, but it blended in perfectly with my black bra and thong, which made it feel just a tad bit more modest than it actually was. The combat boots actually paired well with it and the fatigue shirt. I already had gold jewelry on, and I just kept it, thinking it made the look even a little better. All that was left was to touch up my makeup and curls.

Once I stepped out into the bar area, leaving my clothes behind trusting nothing would happen to them, I was bombarded by Sabrina, Dylan, and the new bartender who’d taken my place. She was cute, honestly, tall and skinny with big dimples on her cheeks. I figured she was doing well, and she seemed nice.

“You look so good!” They told me, fawning over me. I laughed, waving them off, sitting at the bar and waiting for it to get busy. It always did on the night of the Halloween party, without fail.

The music was loud, and all of it was either dark and sexy or Halloween themed. Decorations were hung up, less in depth than I usually did. Sabrina always hated decorating and I guess the new girl did, too.

“Hey,” Sabrina sat next to me, “It feels like it’s been forever!”

“It’s been like, three days,” I deadpanned, brows furrowed and she laughed.

“Yeah, but we used to spend damn near every day together. It’s so lame here without you.”

“But you have that new girl, right? She seems nice, maybe you could be friends.”

She rolled her eyes and I got comfier in my seat, knowing she was about to tell me all about the drama. “She’s awful.”

“I gathered that from the eye roll, now spill!”

“Alright, so when she first got here, she acted like she was just really eager to learn. Then ‘eager to learn’ turned into ‘eager to feel up my husband every chance she got.’ Fucking slut.”

I gasped, leaning in farther, “She felt up Dylan?”

“Yes!” she sounded exasperated, “He was showing her how to make a couple drinks and she just got right up on his side and started rubbing his arms and his back!”

“That bitch,” I furrowed my brows.

“I know! So he told me to take over showing her the ropes, and I have, but I wanna just fuckin’ fire the stupid cunt. She’s an idiot anyway and she can’t do anything right!”

“Well then why hasn’t he fired her yet?”

“Because his dad is wrapped around her finger and doesn’t want him to.”

“That bitch!” I huffed, “Well if she touches him again I’ll beat her ass for you. I don’t work here anymore, I can’t get in trouble.”

“I know you will. Just tell me first so I can film it, we’ll pop some popcorn and have a movie night.”

I raised my drink and she clinked it with her own, taking a sip with me. I eyed the new girl, in awe that she could seem so nice but be such a snake.

Around 9, the place was full, and I was dancing with a few friends that had shown up. We were just jumping around on the floor, a few guys around us dancing with us. It was fun, more fun than I’d had in a while.

I didn’t even notice they’d shown up until one of my friends started talking about the sexy guy in the mask. I furrowed my eyebrows, hope sparking in my chest as I looked around and saw him at the bar, the new girl in front of him, leaned over, giving him a front row seat to her tits. I nearly fumed, excusing myself and briskly making my way over.

I stood behind him for a second, trying to catch a hint of their conversation. It didn’t seem like he was giving her much from what I could tell, and she seemed to be getting more and more desperate for his attention by the second.

“Ghost,” I cleared my throat from behind him.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to realize I was here.” He spoke without even turning around. The new girl made her way to the other side of the bar, giving him a moment alone.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to come to me.”

“You looked like you were having fun, didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I was,” I sighed, “Are you gonna look at me? Or are you gonna keep staring at her tits?”

He chuckled, turning around fully to face me in his seat. My breath hitched, I didn’t expect him to do that.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he patronized me, “You wanted my attention now you got it.”

I took a few steps closer to him, “Just a little sad. See, you’re supposed to be looking at me.”

“Well, I’m looking at you now,” his voice was low and dark and his hands settled on my hips, pulling me a little closer, “What’re you wanting, huh? A compliment? Want me to tell you how good you look in this little piece of fabric you call a dress?” I nodded frantically, biting my lips and his eyes followed the motion, “You haven’t earned it.”

I gasped, eyes widening and he laughed again, this time fuller. His hands tightened on my hips as he lifted me into the stool beside him, gesturing new girl over and ordering me and Malibu Pineapple. I caught the dirty look she sent me, but I didn’t have a fuck to give. My brain was short circuiting over the way he just.. lifted me into the chair, and the way he remembered what I wanted to drink.

“Thank you,” I offered him a smile, taking a sip.

“Probably not the first free drink you’ve gotten tonight.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s my favorite free drink I’ve gotten tonight.”

“Suck up.”

“I would, if you’d just give me the chance,” I winked and the whites of his eyes showed a little more for a second as he widened them.

“You’re impossible.”

“Then why do you keep coming back for more?”

My hands were on his thighs then, both of us facing each other in our chairs, and I let my hands roam slightly but not to anywhere too scandalous.

“Guess what the fuck that bitch just did!” Sabrina’s voice broke the trance, and I looked at her expectantly, “She said you cockblocked her and started whining about you. Like I’m gonna choose her side over yours, be fuckin’ for real for a second!”

I raised my eyebrows, “Cockblocked, huh? Sounds like new girl wants you bad, Ghost.” He grunted in response, lifting his mask to take a sip of his whiskey. “Don’t moan and groan at me, you were the one undressing her with your eyes. Want me to get her number for you? Maybe you can take her home.”

Sabrina looked at a loss for words, and her eyebrows were raised in concern but she saw her way out of the situation. Smart choice.

“Sweetheart, stop.” His voice was a command. Deep and final. But I just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“Oh, honey, I’m just getting started,” With that, I was up and across the bar, dancing with my friends again and trying to ignore him. A few guys came up to me, one wrapping his arm around me and trying to grind on me but I pushed him away a little with a laugh.

“You can buy me a drink, but you can’t touch,” I teased, but my face went dark and his hand landed a smack on my ass.

“If you didn’t wanna be touched, why’d you wear this?” he asked me, leaning his head down for a kiss that I dodged, elbowing him hard in his chest.

“My outfit isn’t a free pass to touch me, you stupid fuck.”

“At least I’m not a stupid slut,” he slapped my ass again, but this time I was ready for him. I grabbed his arm and twisted hard, wrenching it around behind him. Once I had him where I wanted him, I kicked the back of his knee and sent him to the floor, me standing over him and holding him hostage there.

“You want a broken arm? Because you’re sure asking for one.” My tone was angry, forceful, more assertive than I could ever remember it being.

“Fuck, get off of me,” he growled, trying to pull away but I twisted harder and he let out a gasp.

“Get the fuck out of the bar, and don’t come back until you can learn to keep your hands to yourself,” I growled at him, letting him go just to kick him in the back and send him all the way to the floor in a heap. He turned over and laid there, staring up at me.

“That’s not your choice to make,” he smirked, still cocky after what had just happened and I raised a brow.

“No, it’s mine, and I agree with her. Get out.” Dylan’s voice was like a lifeline as he grabbed the guy by the shirt and pushed him out of the doors. I breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone. “Good job, killer,” he high fived me and I grinned, “If you didn’t have that fancy new job I’d ask you to be the new security guard.”

I giggled as he walked away, trying to come down from the adrenaline of everything. The bustle around me made it hard, though, so I walked outside, holding myself tight to battle the cold. I heard the door open and shut behind me and imagined it was Sabrina, but I knew I was wrong when he walked towards me, his heavy footsteps giving him away.

“You alright?” he asked me, and I turned around slowly, nodding.

“I’m fine.”

“That was pretty impressive, what you did in there. Maybe you can take care of yourself.”

“I’ve told you that a million times but you had to see it to believe it, huh,” I chuckled but my words were venom, staring down at my feet.

“You gonna tell me why you’re acting like this?” he changed the subject.

I responded with a quick, “No.” He looked frustrated, speechless almost.

“You can just tell me you’re jealous. It’s obvious enough.”

“Jealous? Of what? Sally McSlutface laying her boobs out on the bar like a personal menu for you? Yeah, I’m green with envy, let me tell you,” my tone was biting, sarcasm laced in every word, pure hate dripping from me when I talked about her. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to deserve it. Maybe Ghost wasn’t mine and I had no claim to him. Maybe he could talk to whoever the hell he wanted and look at whatever the hell he wanted.

He breathed out a laugh, staring at the sky hopelessly, begging for the patience he needed to deal with me. “You are green.” His eyes snapped back down to me. “Whose shirt you got on, anyway? One of these soldiers that comes in here and hits on you? What’d you have to do for it?”

“I didn’t do anything for it, asshole, I don’t know whose it is.”

“Right, that makes sense,” his tone was patronizing again and it set me on fire, anger building inside of me.

“You’re gonna get mad about me wearing someone else’s fatigues when you’re in there eyeing up that dumb bitch like she’s fucking candy or something? You fucking asshole.”

“I’m not mad, baby, you’re the only one that’s mad,” but he sure sounded mad, and I didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. I didn’t even dwell on the word baby.

“I’m not mad!” I yelled, then tried to calm myself down, “You know what? Go fuck her. See how much I care. I have my own plans for the night.”

I attempted to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Don’t do anything stupid just because you’re throwing a fit like a fucking brat.”

“Wanna see how much of a brat I am?” I couldn’t tell whether my words were foreboding or inviting. “Come back inside.”

I shook away from him and stormed into the bar, beelining it to Sabrina and Dylan.

“Remember two years ago when I danced on the bar for Halloween?”

“Yeah,” they both nodded.

“I’m doing it again. Put on the song.”

Their eyebrows were raised but they nodded, and Dylan went to the stereo system to get it going.

“You good?”

“I’m fine. I’m taking your advice and moving on. Or showing him what he’s missing. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Plus it’ll make that new girl mad.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” she grinned, “Get your fine ass up there and show them who’s boss!”

I grinned back as the familiar tune began. I made my way onto the bar and some of the guys there noticed and began to gather around. Right at that moment, Ghost walked back inside and the second his eyes found me, he looked homicidal.

I began swaying my hips to the beat, winking at him and increasing my movement with every lyric.

Heaven help me, the devil wears lace and she can’t be tamed.

If I were wealthy, spend every last dime just to hear her say my name.

I flipped my hair around, slipping the big shirt off and throwing it to Sabrina who was watching from behind the bar with a huge smile on her face. She handed me a bottle, one of the cheapest liquors they had as the chorus hit.

So light me in flames

Just as hot as you need

Let me see the good girl you wanted to be

I turned my back to the group of people gawking and cheering, bending over and reaching between my spread out legs to pour two shots worth of liquid into one of the guy’s mouths, which brought on more cheers.

My eyes caught his as I turned back around and felt myself up, hands sliding from my chest to my thighs, squeezing the fat there as my motions got sharper with every beat.

All of my praise, only from me

I can be the one who can set you free

He made his way over to the bar and I grinned, turning my back again and doing a small spin, hanging on to the rail at the top of the bar for support then shimmying down, surely flashing some people but I wasn’t concerned.

Fall from your grace

Turn up the heat

I feel I’m going down, hands gripping the sheets

I sat sideways on the bar, leaning back on my arms and arching tightly with my head thrown back, then turned over and raised my hips, arms stretched in front of me and ass on display and he snapped. He ripped his jacket off and threw it over me, hauling me off the bar and outside. The people there seemed dumbstruck, and I barely heard the end of the chorus before the door shut.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he growled, setting me down in front of him.

“Do I have to think about everything I do before I do it?”

He let out a sharp laugh, “You are the most danger prone girl I have ever known. Yes, you have to think about dumbass decisions before you make them.”

“All I did was dance on a bar,” I rolled my eyes, pulling his jacket tighter around me in the cold.

“Yeah, right, that’s all you did. Now everyone in there has seen your ass, you feel good about that?”

I set my jaw, letting it tick as I thought over my answer. “You’re talking to me like I’m some kind of whore. Maybe I just wanted your attention.”

“You have that already. Give me a real reason.”

“Maybe I just wanted the attention you gave her.”

“What attention? You’re so fucking delusional. I didn’t even look at her. I don’t give a fuck about her. I came here for you. My team came here for you, and they’re in there having the time of their lives because they got more of you than they bargained for. There’s only one girl that I want to drive me up the fucking wall, and it’s not her!” he was yelling, seething really, his tone harsh and cutting deep but then I let his words settle in along with the feeling of stupidity.

“Ghost, I-“

“Fuck, don’t call me that, my name is Simon,” his voice was still raised and it’s like he didn’t even realize what he’d said until it was out, and we were both taken harshly aback.

I let my mouth drop open a little, taking one step closer to him.

“Simon,” I tried it out and I liked the way it felt rolling off my tongue. I think he liked it too, judging by the way his face softened and his eyes darkened. “Forgive me,” I implored, getting further into his personal space. Crowding him out, really, until my perfume must’ve been suffocating him, thinly veiled by the jacket he’d thrown over me. He didn’t answer. “Forgive me,” I repeated, urgently this time. “Want me to get on my knees and beg? I will. Not for anyone else, but for you, I’ll do it.” He just kept staring at me as I rambled on, “I was jealous, Simon. So jealous, can’t help it with the way she was looking at you. Had me so angry-“

He cut me off, yanking his mask up to his nose and grabbing my throat, pulling me to him and kissing me. I yelped, shocked by the impact, but it only took me seconds to fall into a rhythm, melting where I stood and whimpering for more.

“Such a little slut, begging for me like this and I haven’t even touched you,” he groaned, pulling away to kiss down my neck. I let out a shaky moan, arching into him as his mouth drifted lower.

“Fuck, Simon, please,” I whined, and he laughed.

“I should’ve told you my name a long time ago,” he mused as he brought his mouth back to mine, claiming it as his own. He backed me slowly into the wall, huge hands circling under my thighs and lifting until my legs were wrapped around him and I was caged in his arms.

I got more desperate, squeezing him closer and breaking the kiss to groan when he pressed into me. He was big. Big was an understatement.

“Don’t think that’s gonna fit,” I breathed out and he laughed, nuzzling into me.

“Not tonight it’s not.”

“What?” I was panicking, the need for him growing in me with every passing second.

“Not gonna take you for the first time after a fight like that, baby,” he kissed me again, “Gonna make you wait for it.”

“I’ve been waiting-“

“Don’t whine,” he shut me up, “Makes me want you too bad. Now come on, let’s go back in.”

I pouted as he set me on my feet, all turned on with nowhere to let it out. I followed him as he dragged me inside, pulling his mask down at the same time.

We garnered some stares as we walked in, hand in hand, people obviously knowing exactly what was going on. There were some surprised looks, I wasn’t exactly known for being seen with a man or even settling for a man at all. People were used to be flitting about, flirting but never enough to care.

“Everything okay?” Soap asked as we approached their table, where Sabrina and Dylan were already standing, chatting away.

“We’re just fine,” Simon nodded, and I stayed quiet, blush on my cheeks still, and my eyes might as well have had hearts in them as I gazed at him.

“You’ve got a little… bruise….” Sabrina muttered, grazing her thumb over a spot on my neck and I gasped, pulling the jacket up higher. Everyone laughed at that, and it looked like even Simon smirked but I couldn’t quite tell under the mask.

He pulled out a chair for me and one for himself right beside me and I sat down. They kept cracking their little jokes and I kept not saying much, too lost in thought. I wanted him and I wanted him bad.

I placed my hand on his thigh, rubbing slightly and making my way further and further up. He slapped it away but I just put it back, continuing my ascent. “If I leave, will you follow me?” I whispered the question in his ear, and he just looked at me, but the way his eyes grazed over me let me know he was on the hook. I smirked, pulling my hand away and fleeing to the back room.

The new girl came in behind me, her face twisted in blatant annoyance.

“You can’t be back here,” she spat.

“Yet somehow, I am,” I giggled, waving her away, “Anything else?”

“I thought you were nice when I first met you earlier, but you’re really just a bitch, huh?” I cocked a brow as she let those words slip.

“Do you want to find out just how much of a bitch I am?” I questioned, and she didn’t back down. “Get out. Now. Go ride a dick in the bathroom or something like you’ve been trying to all night.”

“I think I will, in fact I think I’ll go for that man in the mask,” she smirked and before I could even laugh, he came in.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, “This seat’s taken.”

I snorted and she just gawked.

“She isn’t even supposed to be in here!” she huffed.

“Go tattle on her, then,” he barked, and she jumped, making her way out of the room. Once we were alone, he closed the door, turning the lock behind him. I smirked, walking towards him slowly, slipping the jacket further and further off with every step until it was on the floor.

“Just gonna leave my jacket on the ground like that?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make up for it,” I winked, finally reaching him and placing my hands on his chest, balling them in the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I don’t care, as long as I win,” I clicked my tongue, sinking slowly down to one knee, and then the other.

He let out a ragged breath as my hands slid down, tugging his belt until it was unbuckled and sliding out of the loops. Then I got his button and zipper undone, pulling down just enough to expose his boxers slightly.

“Aw, my poor Simon, you just wanted me to touch you, huh?” I cooed, pulling the boxers down enough to expose the tip. “I got you this turned on, baby?”

“Don’t forget your place,” he growled, but his actions were sweet as he brushed my hair back from my face lightly.

“I know my place,” I smiled, “On my knees with my mouth wrapped around you.”

He all but growled, hips bucking into my touch. When I raised a brow, he admitted, “Been a while.”

“For me, too,” I offered, hoping it would make him feel better, before pulling his boxers down further and exposing the entirety of him.

“Fuck,” I gasped, “You’re huge.”

“Gonna keep talking about it or put your mouth on it?”

I didn’t need any more encouragement, getting straight to work, starting with a stripe licked up the back and ending by sucking the tip into my mouth, twirling my tongue around it teasingly.

“Fuck, please,” he breathed out, hand pulling my hair tighter as I took more of him. I had to ease my way down to adjust my throat, but once I got as much as I could in, I started moving back and forth. He held me there until my eyes were teary and wet, my throat completely expanded, and I let him use me.

“Wanna see you,” he told me and I nodded as well as I could, humming around him and pulling my dress and bra down to expose myself, the air making my nipples hard as they’d ever been. I’m sure he had something to do with that, too. “So fucking - agh - perfect, so perfect for me, fuck please keep going,” he sounded broken, but not in the same way other men I’d been with did. He sounded needy, like he’d been waiting his whole life for that one moment and he never wanted it to end. I’d never felt that from anyone before, and I wanted more of it so I got greedier with him in my mouth, savoring the weight of him on my tongue.

“Fuck, y’gonna make me cum,” he gasped, squeezing my hair to pull me back a little as his hips stuttered. It was a sweet gesture, to keep from hurting me with his movements, and I moaned around him, which seemed to tumble him right over the edge. He groaned with one last thrust of his hips and pulled out just enough for me to open my mouth wide and stick out my tongue, letting him let go right there inside of it. He watched closely as he did so, enjoying every second, right to when I swallowed it all.

I grinned after he came down, pulling his boxers back up and doing his pants back up for him then standing and wiping my mouth gently.

“See you out there,” I winked as I began to walk past him, but he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back to him, picking me up and bringing me to the small bench in the corner. He laid me on it, pulling me to the edge and kneeling in front of me, eyes dark on me.

“What’re you doin’?” I asked, breath coming out quicker, heart racing.

“Showing you what your place is, since you’re a little confused,” his voice was rough as he hooked a finger in my panties, pulling them off of me swiftly, “It’s laid out with your legs spread wipe open just for me.”

I gasped, squirming under his gaze as he brought a finger down to swipe through my folds.

“Please,” I whimpered, and he chuckled.

“That’s it, what a good little slut, begging me to touch you. What do you want from me baby? Want my fingers in this little cunt?”

I nodded frantically, eyes wide and pleading, and he obliged, ripping his gloves off and slipping one finger in. I let out a broken moan as he went in and out, thinking it couldn’t possible get better but then it did as he slipped in two, fucking me with his digits, curling them around that spongy spot inside of me.

“Simon, I - fuck - please -!” he went a little faster, and I tried my best not to scream but it was so hard.

Then, all at once, he went away.

“What are you-“

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, calm down,” he shushed me and I relaxed, lying back and watching as he grabbed his jacket. He walked over to me, placing one of the sleeves over my eyes and tying it behind me, making a blindfold of sorts.

“What’s this for?” I asked, and I heard a bit of movement and something being set down before he grabbed my hands and lifted them to his face, laying them down there on bare skin.

I gasped, feeling around, greedy for more then I found it in his hair. I tugged lightly, loving how it felt in my fingers, and he groaned. Before I could even process his bare face, he’d leaned down and kissed me again, his fingers going back to where I needed him most and pushing back in. I rutted against him desperately as his tongue explored my mouth, then moved downwards. To my neck, then my chest, spending a little extra time there teasing me, then down my belly and to where his fingers were.

He circled his tongue around my clit and electricity shot through me as I let out a shriek, my legs falling over his shoulders and pulling him closer as my hand fisted in his hair. He lapped at me like a man starved, working harder for me than anyone ever had, coaxing me farther and farther open until I didn’t feel like I could even inhale. He noticed, pulling away just enough to rasp, “Breathe, baby. I’ve got you, just relax and let me make you cum.”

I moaned again, back arching as I began feeling that peak inside of me getting closer and closer. He could feel it too, so he sped up his movements and added another finger, tipping me over the edge and fucking me through it as I wailed. What felt like forever later, I collapsed in a heap, gasping for breath.

A minute later, he took the jacket off of my face and I pouted when I saw his mask was back on, as well as his gloves. I started to get up but he stopped me with a hand on my chest, laying me back down.

“Hold on,” he ordered and I did, watching him look around for a second before coming back with a little towel he’d found. He carefully cleaned me up, and I watched him in a daze, those dangerous feelings bubbling up in my chest once more. I was a goner for him, and suddenly the thought that he had to leave soon hit me and my eyes were getting hot.

“I’m gonna keep these,” he smirked as he pocketed my underwear, and I nodded, staring at the ceiling. He got quiet, taking note of my attitude change and furrowing his brows. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t answer and panic set in. “Was that not okay? Did you not want that? Fuck - I’m sorry, I-“

“No,” I shook my head, “I wanted it. It was good. Perfect, even. I just… I feel like I can’t tell you what’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll laugh at me.”

“Promise I won’t.”

“You have to leave. I just feel…”

“Used?”

“No,” I placed my hand on his to quiet those thoughts in his head, sitting up carefully, pulling my dress back to somewhat modesty. “Sad.”

“Oh,” he said, seeming surprised. “You know, sweetheart, I’m not the kind of man you wanna care about.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

“I’ll be back. I promise I will.”

“And if you can’t keep that promise?”

“I can.”

The tears fell then and he sat beside me, pulling me into his arms as I cried. “Shh,” he whispered, “It’s okay. I’ll be back. Just let it out.” His hand was rubbing circles on my back, easing some of the pain. I couldn’t believe how vulnerable I was being, but I felt completely wrecked and he hadn’t even fucked me, and now he had to leave. Of course I was vulnerable,

I stopped crying, pulling slightly away from him and wiping my face as best I could.

“We should go back out there. Try to have a good night.”

“Baby, I’ve already had a good night,” he chuckled and I let out a little giggle too.

“Okay, then let’s try to keep the good night going. Come on. There’s no telling what they’ve said about us by now.”

“Probably nothing that wasn’t true.”

“Yeah…” I mumbled, “We haven’t been too subtle, huh?”

“I think when you showed your ass to everybody in the bar, subtlety went out the window.”

“Probably,” I laughed, standing up and bringing him with me. He slipped the jacket back over my shoulders as we walked out.

“You don’t have underwear on, I’m doing damage control.”

Just as I expected, everyone picked on us, and the night was full of endless innuendos. I just stayed quiet and shy, gazing at Simon, and it almost seemed like he was gazing back. He kept either his arm around me or his hand on my leg for the whole rest of the night, seeming like he didn’t want to let me go.

Unfortunately, the time came that he had to, and we all parted ways and he walked me to my car, still holding me to his side.

“You gonna be ok?” he asked, hand cupping my cheek as I stared at him with those same heart eyes I had for him before.

“I think so,” I grinned and his eyes fell to my lips.

“I meant what I said,” he told me, “I’ll be back for you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I hummed, pulling him a little closer until I was trapped between him and my car, but there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

He lifted his mask to his nose again and I smiled, knowing what was coming. His mouth fell down to mine, slower than before but just as intense. It was short and sweet, but memorable, and I chased him as he pulled away.

“Go home, sweetheart,” he mumbled, kissing me on the forehead before putting some distance between us. He started to pull his mask down but I stopped him, jumping on him one last time in a panic and kissing him with everything I had. It lasted longer and left us both breathless. When I finally stepped back, he just smiled at me, and I realized it was the first time I’d seen his real smile. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever had the luxury of seeing, and I pouted when he covered it up.

“Please stay safe,” I told him, finally letting his hand go and getting in my car.

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