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munson-blurbs · 27 days ago

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Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: You never meant for Eddie to know that you had a crush on him. What happened when he found out, courtesy of Mike Wheeler's big mouth?

WC: 2.6k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), angst to fluff to smut and then back to fluff?? I don't even know, idiots in love, p in v, semi-public sex (we get it on in the van, baby)

Part of @cherrycolored-punk's Softember event!

Divider credit to @saradika

Friday, May 16, 1986: the day you determined that Mike Wheeler was the worst.

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, it couldn’t be easy growing up in Nancy’s perfect shadow. Just the time you spent working with her on the school newspaper was exhausting.

That was where you were currently sprinting from, weaving through the empty hallways towards the drama room. Leave it to Nancy to schedule an emergency newspaper meeting on a Friday afternoon.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” You kept your head down as you breezed into the Hellfire meeting. Even without looking, you could feel the guys glaring at you. The only thing less forgivable than missing a campaign was interrupting one.

Gareth let out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nice of you to join us, Lady Atwood.” He shifted forward in his seat. “You’re in luck today—our fearless Dungeon Master has yet to grace us with his presence.”

You wrinkled your nose, only then noticing that Eddie’s throne remained empty. “Where is he?”

From his spot at the table, Mike Wheeler scoffed. “Surprised you don’t know, considering you’re basically in love with him.”

You were about to refute his statement, or at least give him a well-deserved middle finger, when you heard a clattering behind you.

Like metal hitting the floor tiles.

No. No, no no no…

“S-Sorry.” Eddie stammered. He quickly scooped up the tin lunch box that doubled as a place to stash his weed. “I had a last-minute deal. Apparently there’s a party at McKinney’s house tonight and he needed some, uh, provisions. So, uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting around the room and looking at everyone except for you. “We can get started.”

There might as well have been a spotlight beaming down, accentuating the embarrassment written all over your face. Everyone in Hellfire knew about your crush on Eddie, but they had the decency to keep it a secret.

Everyone except for Mike Wheeler, apparently. God, you wanted to squish that little shit like a bug beneath your shoe.

It certainly didn’t help that Eddie kept glancing at you, even when he addressed the group. Like he was waiting for you to say something about Mike’s comment. Waiting for you to refute it, to roll your eyes and whip out a snappy comeback. Maybe he was even hoping you would.

He was probably internally cringing just thinking about you having romantic feelings for him.

“Lady Atwood?”

Your gaze instinctively snapped over to Eddie when he said your name. He was looking at you, brown eyes wide with anticipation of your response.

Warmth crept up your neck. He had heard what Mike said about you being in love with him–he had to have. He’d just had the good grace to brush over it because…

Because he didn’t feel the same way and didn’t want to cause you any further humiliation.

“Y-Yeah?” You choked on the word, trying to put the incident behind you. But you couldn’t, because the pain of unrequited feelings kept yanking on your heart, drawing tears that you desperately wished would evaporate.

“Gareth the Great has proposed battling the demogorgon.” There was a hint of a smirk on Eddie’s lips. It was your first clue that the move would prove entertaining, perhaps at your character’s demise. “We’re waiting for your input.”

Nodding, you chewed the inside of your cheek and studied the board. Okay, it looked like winning the battle was feasible, though a bit risky. The rest of the club watched as you contemplated; Gareth especially was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Then the ceiling started leaking. Soft drops with no particular rhythm, landing on your cheeks. Just your luck–first Mike’s big mouth spilled your secret, then whatever nastiness was living in Hawkins High School’s pipes was now seeping into your skin.

“Holy shit, is she crying?”

Dustin Henderson’s voice broke into your thoughts. His tone, for possibly the first time since you’d met him, held only concern with a note of snark.

Who was crying? You were the only girl in the club now that Ronnie had graduated, save for the times Erica Sinclair served as a substitute. Which meant…

“Way to go, asshole.” Lucas thwacked Mike across the chest.

“I didn’t know he was there!”

The purple fabric of your shirt darkened beneath your arms as another disconcerting flash of heat hit you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe you’d get lucky and the floor would open beneath you and swallow you up.

“I need to get some air.” Whether you spoke the words aloud or said them silently to yourself, you weren’t sure.

Your feet seemed to carry you out of the room and through the school’s front doors. Tears blurred your vision, and you swiped them away before any other lingering students could see.

The air was warm, teasing of the approaching summer. God, summer—you always spent it with Eddie, lounging by the public pool or sitting down at Lovers Lake. You’d read a book while he pored over his Hellfire notebook, scribbling notes for future campaign ideas.

Would he still want to do that, to spend those long days with you, now that he knew about your pathetic crush?

It wasn’t until you reached the parking lot that you remembered: Eddie drove you to school that morning. If you started walking now, you’d definitely get home before dark. Or maybe you could call your parents from the payphone if you managed to scrounge up the change—

The sound of your name stopped you in your tracks. You should’ve kept walking the moment you saw Eddie, his frizzy curls bouncing as he jogged over to you.

“Hey.” His hand brushed yours, though you pulled away before he could grab ahold of it. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

He sighed. “Okay, let me rephrase that: Why did you leave? Because of what Wheeler said?” Eddie let out a small, disbelieving laugh when you nodded. “He’s such a little shit. Always messing with me. I’m gonna kick his sorry ass one of these days.”

Your eyebrows shot up. Messing with Eddie? “What are you talking about?”

“That joke about you being in love with me. He obviously saw me in the doorway and said it to embarrass me.” A blush crept onto Eddie’s cheeks. “Y’know, ‘cause…”

But you didn’t know. You had no idea what he meant. And as much as Mike was a menace, he seemed sincere when he said he didn’t realize that Eddie was there.

“Because why?”

“Because,” Eddie’s gaze shifted to his van’s tires before he finally looked at you again. “Because he knows I have this dumb crush on you, and he thinks it’s hilarious to fuck with me about it.”

Words evaded you. This had to be some sort of elaborate set-up. Eddie had a crush on you? When girls like Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway lived in the very same town?

Impossible.

Not privy to the argument playing out inside your head—thank God—Eddie babbled on. “I know it’s weird. That’s why I haven’t told you—well, until right now. And I’m starting to regret it, because you’re looking at me like I have three heads. So maybe I’ll just shut up now.”

“No.” Summoning all of your courage, you took his hand in yours and managed a smile. “Eddie, Mike was teasing me because I like you. More than a friend should like a friend.”

Eddie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “What if I told you…I don’t want to just be friends?”

You let your eyes meet his. “I-I don’t want to just be friends, either.”

He took a pause before he asked his next question. Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as you waited for him to speak.

“And what if I did this?” One palm, callused from years of guitar playing, cupped your cheek. Eddie moved closer, his nose bumping against yours in a clumsy attempt to close the gap between you. “Shit, that–that was supposed to be suave.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Munson.” The words left your mouth before you could think them through. Your fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him back towards you and finishing what he had started.

His lips, soft and tasting vaguely of the cigarettes he’d smoked after school, crashed into yours. One hand snaked around your waist and pressed you against him until you felt his metal belt buckle through your shirt.

You moaned softly, letting his tongue into your mouth without hesitation. More, more, more…you needed more. You needed all of him.

It was Eddie who broke the kiss, much to your chagrin. But what he said next made up for the loss.

“Sorry…I’m trying to be a gentleman. But it’s, uh, getting a little hard.” He chuckled, stealing another quick kiss. “Pun very much intended.”

A quick glance proved that Eddie wasn’t lying: His erection tantalizingly strained against his fly. What you wouldn’t give to feel him inside you…

“Y’know, take you on a date, tell you how pretty you look,” Eddie continued, shifting his stance in a pitiful attempt to quell his desire. “I don’t wanna go at it in the school parking lot like some feral rabbits.” He waved his hand haphazardly.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. A date would be nice; perhaps a night at The Hawk, his arm around you as a movie played on a giant screen. Or maybe he’d take you to dinner—nothing as expensive as Enzo’s, but somewhere more romantic than your usual Benny’s hangout.

A date with Eddie was something you’d only ever dreamed of. But right now, you needed to live out a different fantasy before you combusted from an overload of lust.

“Remember the first campaign you created this year?” Your soft voice held a sultry air despite your nerves. “It was your most sadistic one yet. We were all ready to forfeit, but you took pity on us and gave us a hint.”

Taking a deep breath, you plunged your hand into his front pocket. “Do you remember what you said?”

Eddie shook his head. “I can’t remember my own goddamn name right now, Sweetheart.”

You laughed, your finger hooking around his keyring. “You said that sometimes, it’s better to work backwards.”

With a triumphant grin, you plucked the keys from his pocket.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” His own smile betrayed his exasperated exterior as he grabbed your hand. His van seemed a million miles away, though it was parked in one of the closest spots in the lot.

Eddie yanked open the back door, waiting just long enough for you to get settled before he scrambled in behind you. The moment the door closed, he pulled you on top of him.

You could feel him, feel his hardness, against your core. You rolled your hips instinctively, savoring the friction.

Hands clamped down on your denim-covered thighs. “You gotta…you can’t…” Eddie choked, struggling for words. “We’re already about to do it in my van. I don’t wanna look even more pathetic by coming in my pants.”

Warmth blossomed in your body. You could imagine him sputtering out a stream of swear words as he came, flooding his own boxers with his release.

Maybe another day.

Buttons were undone, flies were unzipped, clothes were discarded into a pile in the corner of the van. It was only you and Eddie, not a single scrap of fabric between you.

Sweat glistened on his chest, matting down the sparse hairs that curled around his nipples. You leaned in, kissing just above the demon head tattoo etched on his pec.

“Baby,” he crooned. The new pet name wasn’t lost on you. Your heart beat faster, a butterfly frantically flapping its wings. “Baby, I need you.”

He did need you, unless he was going to take care of his achingly hard cock by himself. The pink tip leaked with pre-cum, and if you had more room, you would have licked it clean off.

You settled for swiping it away with your thumb, his abdomen tightening at the sudden contact. Eddie nearly passed out on the spot when you sucked on your finger, savoring the salty taste.

“Baby,” he groaned again. “I w-wanted to get you off first, ‘cause I know I’m not gonna last like this.”

“S’okay.” You lined him up with your entrance, ignoring the way your hands shook as you slowly sank down onto him. His hips bucked up almost of their own accord. “F-Fuck, Eddie…”

Eddie looked up at you, brown irises wide. He paused for an extra moment; maybe he really had forgotten his own name. “I know, I know,” he said finally. “God, I fucking know, baby.”

His thumb found your clit the second he composed himself, rubbing delicate circles until your toes curled. His other hand held you with just enough force to keep you stable while still being able to ride him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He let out a breathless laugh. “If I wake up and this was all a dream, I’m gonna be pissed.”

You shared the same thought. What if the Eddie laying before you, curls splayed against the worn carpet of his van, groaning your name–your name–was all a mirage? Another fantasy conjured up by your lovesick brain?

“I’ve never had a dream this good before.”

“Me either,” he admitted, “but the only ones that’ve come close involve you.”

You tightened around him, your hands flush against his chest. The fact that you occupied his thoughts, unconscious or otherwise, sent a wave of arousal rolling through you. You wanted to hear every last detail of those dreams, to know exactly what turned him on.

Maybe later. Right now, your focus stayed on the way he touched you. So intentional, so precise. And Eddie worked you through your orgasm, keeping his same rhythm as you came around him.

“There you go, pretty girl. That’s it,” he murmured. “‘M close. Where do you–where can I–”

“Inside.” You’d never been more grateful to be on the pill.

Eddie let himself go, unleashing a torrent of desire. He thrust into you, chasing his own release now that he knew you’d gotten yours.

It was only when he slowed his pace, milking the last drops of cum from his cock, that reality began to settle in.

You just had sex with your best friend in the back of his van, a few hundred feet away from where your friends were gathered around a DnD board–

“Oh my God, Eddie!” Your eyes snapped open in realization. “Hellfire–they’re still there.”

Eddie pulled you closer and kissed your forehead. You relaxed into his chest. “They’re smart guys when they’re not being idiots.” The words vibrated against your skin. “I’m sure they figured out that we weren’t coming back.”

He sighed, wrapping one arm around you. “Can I take you on that date now, baby? Y’know, once we get dressed.” He smirked. “We can go to Scoops Ahoy and split a sundae. And then, if you want, I’ll take you back to my place and undress you again?”

You scrambled for your clothes almost as quickly as you’d shed them, Eddie following suit. And as much as you wanted to have sex with him again, to really take your time and cherish each second, you were equally excited to cuddle up in a booth and share some ice cream.

Friday, May 16, 1986: the day Mike Wheeler’s lack of filter didn’t completely backfire. Because it was also the day that you and Eddie Munson became boyfriend and girlfriend.

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months ago

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Leaving V

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You hate clay courts

It's not often that two people from the same country end up in the finals for the French Open but you and Carlos Alcaraz have taken the Rolland Garros by storm.

You weren't the biggest fan of clay courts. You didn't like the way they felt under your feet and you knew you were a bit hit and miss this entire tournament.

You always managed to win though, by the skin of your teeth sometimes. But a win is a win and both you and Carlos were representing Spain at the finals.

He was against Zverev and you were against Iga.

She was your usual partner in training, the world number one. Her coach was your coach and he had purposely decided to sit this one out because he knew he couldn't coach both of you fairly for this final.

Iga was nice though. She'd always been nice and welcoming and she helped you settle in Poland and even introduced you to the girl that would eventually become your girlfriend.

But all that was off the table as soon as she first served.

Iga was brutal on the court and you'd always known that. She was a great player, a perfect player most of the time but you had a different play style than her.

She had it all planned out. She had a style and she stuck to it.

You were a bit more reckless. You were younger and you hadn't quite worked out the way you preferred to play.

It left you in a few tricky spots throughout the Rolland Garros but you'd pushed through like you're pushing through now, getting a volley going with Iga and trying to work out how to get her to make a mistake.

You're a bit of a wildcard sometimes. You've been known to feign one way and hit the other.

The audience is used to Iga dominating a final, especially this one, but you're holding your own very well. You're battling against her well though, holding your own even as you have to regain your footing a few times on the clay ground.

It's decided, as you stumble forward and just hit the ball over, you hate clay courts with a passion.

But, still, as the minutes go by, you find your rhythm.

A rhythm that lets you try one more reckless manoeuvre that completely catches Iga off guard. She can't return it and you fall to your knees in shock.

You've just won.

You hadn't gone into this final thinking you would win. You'd gone into it hoping you'd win, for sure, but you thought that you didn't actually have a chance.

You get to your feet shakily, stumbling over to the net to shake her hand.

"Next year," She says, bringing you into a hug," Let's go for the doubles together, alright?"

You nod. "Sounds good."

You thank the umpire and you go around shaking the hands of all the ball girls. When you were younger, at one of the professional tournaments, you had been a ball girl. You knew what it was like.

Iga got given her prize, holding it up for the crowd and then you received the cup, smiling brightly in all the pictures.

You were covered in red clay as you made your way through the corridors.

Your family was waiting for you.

You went into Alexia's arms like you always did and her arms wrapped around you, completely familiar and welcome. You lean into her, sagging in relief as someone takes the cup from you so you can hug her properly.

"I'm very proud of you," She whispers," So proud of you."

"I don't like clay courts," You say back and you can feel the little chuckle of amusement from her.

"I know."

"I'm covered in muck."

"I know but you can go and shower and then we'll head back to get some food."

You giggle as you pull away. "I'm so hungry."

Alexia laughs too. "I know."

Dinner is perfect when you've got the trophy sitting next to you and Alba insisting on having dessert for a job well done.

Mama cries, like usual after you've done anything even related to tennis. Alba makes fun of her.

Alexia sneaks into your hotel room.

You both lay on your bed together, looking up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know anything about tennis," Alexia admits," Nothing. Nothing at all."

You flick your eyes to her. "What?"

"I don't know anything about it apart from you hit the ball back and forth."

"Ale...I've been playing tennis for years."

"I know and I still don't know anything. Isn't that scary?" She's laughing a little bit. "Years taking you back and forth and getting you new rackets and outfits and watching you win. I still couldn't tell you anything about it."

You're laughing as well, almost hysterically laughing. "Well," You say through your giggles," I must be the better sister because I actually understand the rules of football."

She swats at you with an eye roll. "Football's easy to understand. You don't get sister points for that."

"But still," You say," I've got the most amount of points."

"No you don't!"

"Yes I do!"

The thing about growing up with your sisters is that the three of you were hyper-competitive people, to the point that the 'Sister Championships' happened every year complete with a shared spreadsheet to keep track of everyone's points and a strict set of rules on how they could be earnt.

"I do," You say, bringing up the table on your phone to show," I've got ten more than you because I looked after Alba's dog when I was last home."

Alexia swears. "Damn it."

You grin. "I'm going to win this year."

"I've still got time. I'll let Alba have my window seat on the flight back tomorrow."

You shuffle closer until you've got your head resting on her shoulder. "We're not flying home tomorrow."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because Carlos has won so it means Spain has won the men's and women's singles. There'll be lots of PR stuff for me to do with him."

"And why can't I go home?"

"Because I need someone to keep me sane, Ale."

She thinks for a moment before nodding. "That'll earn me at least fifteen more sister points."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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pinkroseblooms · 4 months ago

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obsessedloner!Choso/chubby!f!Reader) pt.1

Summary: modern day college au! Choso pines over his cute classmate. Ngl this is super self indulgent, probably OOC, with lots of fluff and smut, borderline crack really. Enjoy!

Warnings: stalking, unhealthy behavior, p in v sex, unprotected, possessive/obsessive behavior, smut, and etc. Choso is clingy and borderline yandere.

wc: 4.2k

You’re a sweetie pie, friendly to everyone but seemingly not close to anyone. You wear cute dresses and blouses, and have adorably round cheeks, so plump and cute, with a warm smile that puts every person you speak with at ease. Choso on the other hand, though not socially inept per say, simply doesn’t put much effort into socializing with his classmates or really any person outside his tight knit circle. All Choso really needs is his family and a couple close friends, the ones he’s had for years. He doesn’t need to win any popularity contests and with his pale, nearly translucent skin, inky black hair, and somewhat somber expression, Choso had something of a reputation for being creepy. Walking down the street, zoned out eyes and a thin lipped frown, it wasn’t uncommon for a person to double take, wondering if they had seen a hulking onryo in physical form.

And so, when he met you, Choso was at a loss. Suddenly everything he did seemed so awkward and stilted. He was fumbling over himself attempting to make your acquaintance; from being assigned to class projects or during group discussions, of which Choso found himself hanging on your every word with rapt attention no matter how boring the subject material actually was, he could never seem to find the right thing to say. It was a miracle when he was able to speak at all, outside of strictly school related topics.

On a mild sunny day, it was a classmate had ultimately been the one to indirectly help Choso make a connection. They had pointed him out to you, who had been sitting unaware on a blanket in the campus courtyard with a book and a snack, Your peaceful, cozy study session outside was interrupted when a classmate came by to say hello and warn you of the strange man watching you from the smattering of trees and bushes surrounding the area.

“He’s always staring at you.” They winced as Choso ducked further behind the large oak he was half obscured behind. “What the hell? I can call security for you.”

“Oh it’s Choso.” you beamed in his direction, waving one of your arms over your head. “Hey Choso! Wanna study with me?”

Unsure if he was hallucinating, Choso ventured from his spot, steps heavy as he walked briskly to where you were camped out on the grass. Your classmate gave you a strange look. "Will you be okay?”

“Aw, he’s just shy.” you told them, your smile widening as Choso lingered a few feet away from the edge of your blanket.

“Uh huh. Alright then”

With a shrug, they left you and Choso alone; for a few seconds, neither of you spoke.

“Hi.” Choso looked from you to the retreating classmate, and back to you again. “Can I sit down?”

“Sure!” you patted the spot next to you. “Are you hungry? I have some cookies in my bag, made them myself.”

You chatted with Choso about nothing in particular; he mostly nodded or gave one syllable answers as he munched carefully on the cookies you offered. He heard you talk about baking once or twice before; granted Choso is pretty neutral on most desserts but ever since hearing about your casual hobby, one of his favorite fantasies was you gifting him with sweets made with care: chocolate on Valentine's Day, a special cake for his birthday, or maybe you wearing nothing but a cute apron in his kitchen while he pinned you over the table and-

Well, maybe he's getting ahead of himself.

“You know, you could have just come over. How long were you gonna stand there?” you asked after Choso finished the cookies; you had brought extra, hoping to see him around campus again. Nothing said, "let's be buddies" like sharing homemade goodies, right?. “Besides, someone might think you’re stalking me.” you joked.

Choso hadn’t exactly meant to follow you; he really had intended to come over and greet you properly, ask if he could sit or if you wanted to get a coffee, something. Every time he tried to approach you, Choso ended up lingering near you, telling himself he would say something, a hello at the very least, but his feet would end up feeling like lead blocks and his palms would get clammy. Besides, you looked so content to be alone typing away on your computer or leisurely reading a book in your lap. What if you thought he was annoying? What if the only reason you treated him nicely in class was because you didn’t want to be rude and you secretly thought he was an off putting weirdo? Just imagining you looking up at him with apprehension or disgust made Choso’s resolve crumble. By the time he found an ounce of nerve to take a few steps toward you, you were already heading out of the library or the courtyard or the campus cafe and he was left feeling stupid and cowardly. Besides, of nothing else he could be near, just in case someone unwanted came along to bother you. Choso would put a stop to that easily.

“Sorry. I was going to, but you looked busy and…yeah.” Choso scratched at the bridge of his nose, nail grazing over the tattoo; his stomach flipped, remembering how you complimented it the first week of classes. No one else really talked to him but everyone seemed to like talking to you. He had been so surprised, he hadn’t even said thank you, just nodded and averted his eyes back to his notes. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You don’t bother me. Actually,” you pause before taking out your phone. “I was going to ask during our next class: do you want to exchange numbers?”

Choso looked up at you, stricken faced and back straight. “You were?”

“Sure, this way we can make plans to hang out.” you explain casually, smoothing out your skirt as you shifted toward him, contact list open and ready to add his name. With that brief movement, your skirt hiked up higher over your thighs just well past your knees; Choso bit the inside of his cheek and prayed you didn’t notice his gaze flicker downward. It would take less than a second to reach over, feel the exposed skin, squeeze with his rough hand, and then he could get a better idea of how it would feel to have his head trapped between your quivering thighs while he-

“You mean it? So," Choso gazes at you hopefully; his eyes are so intensely fixed to yours that you almost feel the need to look away. "We would see each other outside of class?”

“Yeah, let’s get coffee or something. Also, if one of us is already busy, we can just reschedule. Or, you know, we can just text each other whenever. No pressure.” you gave him a thumbs up. “Sound good to you?”

“That makes sense.” Choso types his number into your phone; the pads of his finger are thick and he’s trembling a little, so he has to redo it twice. “Um, can I sit with you? Like, right now, I mean.”

“Of course.” you nod and scoot over a little to make more room for him on the blanket. “By the way, that song I heard coming from your earbuds the other day, it sounded good; what was it called?”

Choso was wrong, assuming approaching you would be the thing to test his will power and courage the most. Now that Choso has your number (he put a little rabbit emoticon by your name, his cute chubby bunny) he has to rein himself in from messaging you every fifteen minutes and even then he knows he texts you too much. Even so, no matter how many messages Choso sends, you never seem annoyed. Weeks go by and Choso has gone from sending you brief inquiries about the class material and when the next day off is to regularly texting you good morning and goodnight, links to videos he thinks you’d find funny, songs that remind him of you, pictures of ramen from the new spot he and his brothers had gone out to eat at, even an occasional selfie that had been taken about a dozen times until Choso felt confident enough to send it. And that wasn’t getting into the questions, unprompted and random, about your favorite color, food, time of day, your family, your birthday, your preferred sleeping position.

You can’t lie, the attention is flattering and you find your heart seize up whenever Choso is brave enough to approach you first, when he starts cracking jokes, bringing you coffee and snacks every class, and finally volunteering more and more info about himself without your prompting. You want him to share things about himself with you, to feel comfortable and at ease. It took a little time and careful coaxing, but it was well worth getting to know this fiercely strong yet oddly gentle man. Choso who seemed to operate on a completely seperate set of rules and morals than most people yet still tried so hard to please you, as if it were his life's mission to do so. You never felt so curious about someone or so determined to have them be a part of your life.

In a short amount of time, Choso has become your shadow, always scrambling to pack up his notes and pens to follow you when you leave the room, practically bounding at your heels when you say you’re going off campus for a meal or shopping. He insists on accompanying you, offering to foot the bill, carry your bags; if you so much as sniffle, Choso is urging a packet of tissues and a bottle of tea into your hands. He knows it’s a lot, but he can’t help himself and you’re so quick to return the favor, to pay for him, bring him little gifts, check up on him if he’s looking particularly tired (usually because he was up all night stalking your socials and planning your next “date”)

You say one nice thing to him and Choso wants to shower you in praise; he doesn’t care if it’s excessive. Sure, technically you’re not his girlfriend, but in Choso’s mind, you might as well be. Besides, he’s happy just making you happy. So when the day comes where you put it all out on the table and ask him to be honest about what his feelings are, Choso is surprised he even has to spell it out.

“What are we?”

The movie has been paused and you put aside the bucket of popcorn Choso had just made fresh for you with extra butter topping along with the pack of your favorite candy as a surprise gift for movie night. You’re sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the hem of the band t-shirt Choso had lent you when he accidentally spilled coffee over your pretty new blouse. You never did give it back and Choso had never asked for you to return it. This is the first time he’s ever seen you so hesitant.

“Listen, Choso, I like being your friend, I really do. I’ve never gotten this close to anyone before. You’re very...special to me, but I haven’t been completely honest with you.” you admit quietly. “I really, really like you, as more than just a friend. I’m sorry if that makes things weird. I know when you care for someone, you go all out, so maybe I’ve been misunderstanding this whole thing. I just had to tell you. You deserve to know. You’re such a great guy, I hope you’ll consider still being my friend.”

“I love you. Be my girlfriend.”

Choso’s tone is so blunt and matter of fact, you’re almost startled into silence.

“Oh. You love me?”

“Yes.”

"Oh." you repeat, still a tad taken aback. "I guess I was worried over nothing. I figured you might have a crush on me, unless I was mistaken, but I...really didn't expect this. Choso, are you sure? When you say love, you don't mean like a friend; you mean, love in 'that' way, right?"

Choso nods, pretty much looming over you; his outward expression is stoic, but you recognize the way his hands clench at his sides and his posture stiffens as him trying to calm his own nerves.

“I do. I meant it exactly how it sounds. I always wanted more, but I didn’t,” he shifts from one foot to the next, unsure whether it would be okay to sit next to you. “You aren’t scared of me? It’s really not…too much?”

Choso’s blood runs cold as you abruptly stand; you’re leaving. It’s too much too soon. Your patience has run out. You think he’s an overbearing freak and you’re going to run away, block him, avoid him. His eyes widen as you stare at him resolutely and it takes every ounce of strength he has to not crumble at your feet and beg you not to leave, to just give him a chance to show you how happy he could make you, the lengths he's willing to go to have you love him.

"I, I'm sorry." Choso steps forward, as if to block your path. "Just hear me out, one more time, plea-"

“I think I love you too.” you say softly, reaching for him slowly and cup his face in your warm palms; Choso brings his large hands up to cover yours, like he's trying to get you to squish his face. “I want to be with you.”

“Are you serious?” Choso exhales shakily. “You really love me?”

You nod and lean forward barely a centimeter. “You’re really just too cute; can I kiss you now? Am I moving too fast?"

The words are barely out of your mouth before Choso wraps you into an almost painfully tight bear hug, your face is squished into his chest, arms trapped to your sides as Choso mutters softly into your hair.

“Are you really mine?” Choso asks quietly, his deep voice cracking a little as he drops onto the bed, cradling you like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind any second now, caging you with his whole being. “I know I get carried away. I just want to keep you safe. If I could, I’d keep you by me all the time. Is that wrong?”

“I don’t mind.” you smile into his sweatshirt and inhale his scent deeply. “I know you’re not a bad person. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Never!” Choso looks scandalized and you can’t help giggling a little at his bulging eyes and gaped mouth. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before. I’ll try to do my best; if I ever hurt you, even by accident, you can hit me.”

“But I don’t wanna do that.” you tell him with a pouty frown. “Aways so extreme. How about we just talk and apologize or something?” you wriggle out of his strong iron band like arms enough to look him in the eyes properly. “Choso, you’re kinda squeezing too tight, can you…?”

Choso immediately loosens his hold, but he doesn’t give you any additional space. “Sorry.” he mumbles, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Can we still stay like this for a while?”

“Oh shoot, I was going to make a joke about you taking my breath away.” you grin impishly and return the hug with your newly freed arms. “So, about that kiss? Not that we have to! I guess we’re already moving pretty fast.”

“Not fast enough.”

"Huh?"

Choso’s eyes flicker to your mouth and his tongue darts out to lick his own bottom lip briefly. “Can we?”

“What?” you have to gather your thoughts as Choso sits back; your legs are on either side of his hips now as you find yourself propped up on his lap. He’s looking at you with a familiar intensity, but you can’t help feeling a little nervous; after all, it’s the first time you’ve been this close to each other, in this kind of position.

“Wanna kiss.” Choso’s words come out faintly slurred, despite not having a drop to drink all night. The movie that had been playing on his tv is still paused, the only source of light in the room. Choso had one hand on your lower back to steady you; the other was on your hip, his thumb rubbing circles underneath the hem of your shirt. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Okay. Thank you.” you offer him a smile before leaning in again, pressing your lips to his lightly, once, twice, three times, until Choso apparently decides chaste pecks aren’t enough. He groans into your mouth, the tip of his tongue wet and broad, tentatively licking as you part your lips wider. He’s getting loud now and suddenly his hands are gripping your thighs; you gasp, but it’s muffled by Choso’s mouth fully over yours as he rocks his hips. He’s grinding into you, hands rubbing your thighs and waist, traveling up your body to your chest. He loves how your plush tummy feels, how his fingers easily sink into your thighs. Choso has the sudden urge to bite into your chubby cheek.

“Choso,” you manage to break the heated kiss only for him to switch to nipping and sucking at your neck. “Wha-what are you-?”

“Can we keep going?” Choso pants, resting his head on your chest. “Please? Can I touch you more? Please?” he’s groping your breasts, staring at them almost in awe. “I want to see them. Can I…?” Suddenly, a look of dread overtakes his needy expression and he draws his hands away back to your waist. “Is it okay? If you don’t want to, I’ll stop. I just,” he breathes in and out shakily; you can feel him, pressing in between your legs. He’s hard, moving frantically, like he's not in control of his own body, rutting against your plump ass and pussy to feel some relief, frustrated he can't feel you completely with stupid clothes getting in the way. “Sorry. I want it so bad, I’ve never done anything before, so…but I can wait, I just get so worked up and you feel so soft, I'm s-sorry-”

“It’s alright, I’m just surprised: I've never seen you like this before.” you confess as you run a hand through Choso’s hair; it’s still a bit damp. He showered before you came over for movie night; you don't think he anticipated this, but then, Choso’s been surprising you all evening. “Are you ready? I'm okay Choso; you’re making me feel good. I didn’t think you would want to go farther than kissing, but if you're up for it,” with a teasing smile, you spread your legs and rub against him. “Do you want to fuck me tonight, Choso?”

Choso can’t speak for the moment, so he nods his head rapidly, cheeks flushing, brows furrowed as he rocks his hips in time with you, nearly bucking you right off his lap from the force of it.

“Hold on.” you slowly lift your shirt over your breasts; you hadn’t bothered wearing a bra and from the way Choso lets out a ragged curse, you think he appreciates that. “You definitely want to keep going? Here, you can play with them; it’ll feel better if you get me all wet first. Go ahead, touch me all you want.”

“Does this feel good?” Choso’s thumb lightly rubs back and forth across one of your pert nipples; he’s practically salivating as you keen and whine, back arching, your hands gripping tight onto his broad shoulders. “Can I use my tongue?” he slowly moves forward to the other side, lips parting already, eager to know how your skin will taste.

“Oh god, yes!” your voice pitches higher as Choso gently circles the tip of his tongue around your nipple before suckling it; his hand gropes at your other breasts, pinching and rolling his thumb and forefinger carefully around, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Choso's looking up at you through his eyelashes with a hooded adoring stare. You look like a dream come true, writhing on his lap, his shirt pushed up to your neck; he’s been dreaming of this, having your tits in his face, his hands, in his mouth, imagining how they’d feel, what your skin would feel like on his tongue.

After a few minutes, Choso releases your breast from his mouth. “More.” he demands in a low, hoarse voice. “Want more. Wanna see it…wanna see your pussy now.” you move up on your knees so Choso can slip your shorts down past your thighs. His fingers trace the cloth of your panties almost teasingly but really he just wants to savor every moment of this. Choso feels how wet you are through them and gulps. He's so close. He’ll get to feel you soon, feel how hot your insides are, how hot and wet your pussy will feel on his throbbing cock. Hurriedly, Choso yanks off his own sweatpants, barely taking a second before he has you on your back, head propped up on his pillow and recently washed comforter. He hoped it would be like this someday, that you would be here for him like this, naked, legs spread, his shirt still pushed up to show off your cute tits, your shining eyes basically begging for him to split you open on his cock. He’s happy you’re his first time; if Choso has his way, you’ll be his first and only.

“I want to fuck you while you wear my shirt.” Choso strokes himself, from his base to his pink, leaking tip, settling between your thighs. “You’re mine now, right?” he asks, grunting as the thick head of his cock prods at your soaked pussy; he’s teasing your clit, loving the way you toss your head back, the way you’re actually dripping as he bottoms out. The feeling could knock the wind right out of him if Choso wasn’t so determined to have you just as overwhelmed and needy as he was feeling right now.

“Is this okay? Does it hurt?” Choso pistons his hips, holding your thighs open as he moves inside you; you manage to shake your head before letting out a shrill wail as Choso begins grinding into you as deep as he can. He’s rambling, greedily grabbing at you, holding you open, kissing and biting all over your exposed neck and breasts. “Fu-fuck, you feel so good! So soft and warm, I can’t get enough….wanna cum deep inside. Does it feel good? Am I making you feel good, am I making this pussy feel good?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” your nails drags over his shoulders and back as you struggle not to go limp from the force of his thrusts. “Choso, want to cum, touch me, please, I can’t take it anymore!”

“You’re gonna take it. Gonna make you cum all over my cock.” Choso mutters; he’s slowly lapping at your hard, oversensitive nipples, salivating, completely lost in the way your pussy is clenching and the sweet pain of you scratching him, the burning red lines surely visible against his pale skin but he’s happy to let you mark him up. “Like this?’ he reaches down, still holding one of your legs up slightly while his free hand rubs his fingers over your clit. “Fuck yeah. I felt that, felt your pussy gush again. Go on, go on,” Choso grinds himself into you as he rubs your swollen clit, steady and quick.

“CHOSO!” you scream as your body spasms; the sheets underneath you are damp and your body is hot and tense. The way he's stimulating every one of your most sensitive places is driving you crazy, you can barely think, just feel and listen to Choso’s low, raspy voice egging you on. “Oh god, please! I’m gonna-”

“Yeah, cum on my dick. Cum all over me, you look so fucking hot right now, so cute...my chubby bunny.” Choso’s lips form an oddly soft grin as he watches you come apart; he feels it, feels you cumming around him, your pussy suddenly impossibly tight as you shake and sob. “Sh, sh, you’re okay.” his touch is slower, gentle on your clit, letting you ride out your orgasm. He thinks you’re so precious, twitching and whimpering as you come down from the high. “Shhh, relax. I’m going to move, okay? Can I?”

Somehow you hear him through the haze and your rapidly beating heart and you nod. “Ye-yes, I want it. Keep fucking me.” you carress his cheek, smiling weakly. “Keep going, cum in me Choso. It's okay, I love you.”

That’s when what little self control Choso had left snaps like a twig.

“Thank you." Choso wraps your trembling legs around his hips, anchoring you to him whole he shoves his cock as deep as he can inside you. Your mouth falls open but you can't even scream; somehow, it's like Choso’s gotten even harder. "Oh fuck thank you, I can’t believe it, can’t believe you’re letting me, thank you, thank you so much!” The headboard is knocking into the wall; all you can do is cling to Choso as he moans and babbles under his breath, rams his cock in and out of you like a man possessed. “Mine.” Choso has you wrapped in his arms again, pressing your limp ragdoll body to his. Your voice is too weak to let out more than little whispers of moans and frail, broken cries. “Fuck, you’re really mine.” Choso smiles down at you, cheeks flushed and eyes glistening with affection; he’s so close to cumming but he doesn’t want this to end. “Wanna keep you here with me all the ti-time, in my bed, gonna fuck you until you can’t go anywhere. Heh,” Choso kisses your temple with a satisfied, drunken smile as he strokes your fucked out face almost reverently. “You like that? Your pussy just got so tight. Let me, okay? Let me just take care of you from now on.” he picks up the pace again, molding you to him, kissing you as you go light headed; you may just pass out from this, but you don’t care, too busy getting swept up in Choso’s pleas and whines as he gets closer and closer to his own release, though he's the one at your mercy.

“Can I? Can I really cum in you?” he stutters, more begging than asking but either way he’s already losing himself in the sensation as his cock twitches and throbs with overstimulation. “Yes, yes, more, wanna stay like this, deep inside, gonna cum, gonna cum, shit, I’m gonna-!” Choso’s jaw clenches tight and he buries his face into your neck with a long, rough sob, rocking against you until he’s sure every last drop of his cum has been spilled deep inside your aching pussy. He has you in another deathgrip of an embrace but you melt into his arms, smiling dazedly as Choso brings your hand up and presses a loving kiss to your palm.

“Sorry...I got carried away again, didn't I?”

“You don’t look very sorry.” you pant, poking his tattoo lightly and let out a soft laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sit up for a bit.”

The bridge of Choso’s nose crinkles and he does look a bit guilty now. “Sorry. I’ll take care of you. Hang on, I’ll get a towel.”

“Mm, thank you.” you kiss his forehead. “You made me feel really good, I’m just super worn out. Could you bring me some water?”

Choso nods and quickly stands up to fetch what you need; he’s still a bit dazed himself. When he comes back into the room, you’re still wearing his shirt with nothing else; he can see his cum slowly dripping down the inside of your thigh and has to stop himself from mounting you again. It’s obvious you’re tired and besides, there’ll be plenty of time for round two tomorrow morning when you’re waking up in his arms. “Hey,” Choso murmurs as you settle in under the covers with him. His finger lightly traces a particularly large love bite on the side of your neck. “Are you really mine?” “Choso, you really do worry too much.” Still, you can’t help but smile; he’s staring again, waiting raptly, looking absurdly innocent and almost childlike as he gazes at you beseechingly. “I’m all yours.” you kiss him tenderly once more before snuggling into his chest; Choso inhales sharply and has to fight back the tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He could die of happiness right now but then he wouldn’t get to have more kisses.

“Come over for dinner tomorrow? I want to introduce you to my family.”

“I’d love to.” you sigh, content as Choso’s hand strokes up and down your back. “I can bake something.”

“Would it be too soon to say you’ll be their sister-in-law?”

“Hm, let’s hold off on that for a while.”

“Okay, I can wait.” Choso smiles, kissing your head gently. “Do you want to have kids?”

“Choso.”

“Sorry, right.”

“It’s alright.” you murmur sleepily. “Talk later, sleep now.”

“Okay….can we do it again when you wake up?”

“Yes.”

#choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x chubby reader #choso smut #jjk choso #chubby reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #alternate universe #jjk fluff #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #obsessed yandere #soft yandere

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inkdrinkerworld · 22 days ago

Text

Tactics

Pairing: hockey!sirius x reader (established relationship) (wc: 1.4k)

Cw: reader is slightly bratty, SMUT, MDNI 18+ ONLY, brat!reader, degradation (slight), p in v penetration (unprotected but he does pull out), hair pulling, fluffy ending. I think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything

You’re riding Sirius’ every last nerve as you stomp around the house with a pout in full effect. It’s not so much that you can’t be upset, it’s that you’re doing it for his attention and he’s not giving you the satisfaction.

He’s busy this weekend, which you’d known, but so what if you feel a bit needy and want him to pay you some mind.

God damn Sirius for turning you into this.

He’s going over strategies for the game in a few days, his hockey coach drilling all sorts of tactics into his head as enforcer and all that.

You sigh for the tenth time and Sirius bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying anything.

“Siri, can’t you take a break? We can pop into the Christmas market before it gets too busy.”

He rolls his eyes, you’d been to the Christmas market two hours before and gotten everything you’d wanted.

Sirius knows your tricks, which is how he accurately predicts that due to his lack of response you’d flip yourself on the settee next to him and drop your head into his lap.

“Sirius.”

He looks down at you, grey eyes nearly blue. “Poppet, we spoke about this. After tomorrow I’m all yours.”

He pats your cheek and goes back to his iPad reading through the opposing team’s strategy and trying to see potential lineups and who he can best agitate tomorrow night.

You huff again, “You never have time for me.”

You know you’re being petulant and whiny but it’s not your fault.

Sirius has been gone nearly two weeks and he’s off again tomorrow with a week off. It’s that week off that has your body thrumming with excitement and nerves and Sirius looks good.

He always has but all the training and the games have toned him ridiculously.

Hence your attitude not being your fault.

“That’s not true.” Sirius frowns at your words.

“It is true. You’ve hardly called,” not true- Remus was telling him he’s just as bad as James was while they were away, not that Sirius cared. “And when you’re home you’re always on your iPad.”

You’re starting to push his buttons; your words are exaggerations and you both know it.

“Poppet, just give me till tomorrow.” His words have a bit of bite to them and it sets your mood in cement.

“Oh yeah? And then tomorrow night after your big win and you’ve busted up your nose again, I’ll have to tend to you and then you’ll want to go see your friends and go to the pub, and-“ your rant is cut short by Sirius gabbing your jaw and applying just enough pressure that your cheeks swish and you gasp a little.

“You’re itching for a row and I’m not having one with you. Cut it out.” His grey eyes narrow, watching as yours widen like saucers. When he releases your face with a quick peck your resolve doubles.

“Or what? You barely even have time right now for a kiss.”

Sirius chuckles and sets his iPad to the side. His hands are strong and firm where they pull you to sit in his lap and face him.

“Is this the hill you want to die on, poppet?” Your shoulders rise just as Sirius shakes his head. “Think about what you’re gonna say, baby.”

You’ve thought about it and it’ll get you exactly what you want. Sirius can almost taste the words before they’re out of your mouth.

“Am I wrong? This is the most attention I’ve had from you since you came back from Coventry.”

It’s the snark in your tone that has your boyfriend’s hand sliding round your neck, a gentle hold but a hold nonetheless.

“Such a smart girl but you just can’t help trouble, can you?”

You shrug and that solidifies the type of night you’re about to have.

Sirius’ hand tightens around your neck, his lips pressed beside your ear. “You’re such a fucking brat,” his lips create a trail from your earlobe to your collarbone, bites and kisses interchanged and left over on your skin till he reaches your lips.

“Kiss me.” You grumble as he brushes his nose against yours but never meets your mouth.

“I shouldn’t even give you one. Don’t deserve a kiss.” He bites the hinge of your jaw just as you’re about to complain.

“Siri.” You get out, rocking your hips into his as his other hand dips beneath your shirt.

“No you don’t get to decide how tonight’s going poppet,” he kisses just between the valley of your breasts before taking off your shirt. “You could’ve if you’d waited. But you’re just so impatient, just so needy. Just so depraved.” Sirius licks a stripe up your chest on the last word.

Goosebumps immediately erupt on your chest and stomach.

His other hand releases your neck, sitting further back into his spot as you rock your hips faster.

“Please touch me.”

Sirius grins, wicked and impish. “Now you have manners, go figure.” He doesn’t move a hand to help you and in your frustration you bang a fist against his chest.

His grin is gone but you don’t see what takes its place because Sirius has you leaning over the back of the settee and your shorts around your ankles.

“Silly needy thing.” He mutters, the slap he delivers to your bare bottom echoing through your quiet apartment. “Can’t mind your tongue at all can you, poppet?”

He’s goading you now, wanting to see how far you’re willing to go.

“It’s not like you don’t like it.” Your words end in a sharp gasp, your hands clutching the back of the settee tightly.

“Can’t help yourself at all today,” you hear him shuffling behind you, his sweatpants falling around his ankles. You feel the head of his cock and lean forward a little more, a much more severe arch to your back.

“Please don’t tease.”

Sirius snickers, moving his tip between your folds before slipping in and then back out.

“This what you needed?” He asks, wrapping a hand in your hair and pulling so that your chin is tipped upwards.

“Yes yes!” Your words preface him slamming right into you, your nails gripping the sofa as Sirius sets a brutal pace.

“Fucking brat,” he grunts, the hand in your hair wound tight and the one of your waist slips to your thigh and pulls it up.

The angle shift sends him deeper into you and tears spring to your eyes.

“Sirius.” You croak, turning your chin a little to see him but the tears cloud your vision. “Oh god, right there.”

He smirks, leaning down and crowding your space but never pressing his lips to yours.

“Terrible at asking for what you want so you just have to poke and get a rise out of me hm?”

You nod, “You never fuck me like this if I ask.”

Sirius chuckles, nipping at your cheek. “Liar.” His words are punctuated with a sharp thrust and a choking gasp from you.

It doesn’t take long before Sirius has you keening and crying as he fucks you, his hand sneaking from your thigh to your clit and you shake against Sirius’ chest.

“There,” you whine, your hands on his wrist to get him to apply more pressure. “I’m close.”

Sirius does, your back bowing as you come around him. He isn’t far behind you but just as he’s about to reach his own orgasm he pulls out and thick white ropes of him cover your lower back, just above your ass.

You fall into Sirius as he catches his breath, chin resting on his slick chest. “Can I have a kiss now?”

He smiles, pushing back some of the wet strands of hair that have stuck to your face. “Course doll.”

He peppers them all over your cheeks before slotting your lips together, the kiss far more tender than he’d been just a couple seconds earlier.

“C’mon, let’s go get in the shower.” He whispers against your lips, using his discarded shirt to clean up your back.

“Then we can watch Christmas movies?”

Sirius sighs, kissing your forehead. A tinge of guilt piercing his heart. “I’ll be in the room with you but I really do have to finish going through the tactics, poppet.”

You shrug, far more amenable to the idea now. “S’long as we can cuddle.”

“I can do that, baby.”

#sirius black #siriusblack #sirius black drabble #sirius black imagine #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #sirius black fluff #sirius black smut #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black x reader #sirius black x black reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x yn #sirius black x y/n

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luvwestwood · 11 months ago

Text

"Working Overtime" - Toji Fushiguro

4,469 words.

warnings. nsfw (18+), toji is your boss, escort reader, thigh riding, p in v, spitting, toji rails you on a balcony, exhibitionism?, toji fucks you on a pile of money, mention of size difference, hair pulling, eye contact, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praising, light aftercare

notes. corporate girlie by day, escorting by night. out of all people, who knew your own boss had to be tonights client? (ok but wealthy toji is such a refreshing experience from broke homeless smelly ass toji.)

art used is by @/yunonoai

Being able to say you work under Mr. Fushiguro meant that you were gifted of some kind. Just having the privilege to do so puts you on top of others in society.

Toji Fushiguro himself possessed a different category of wealth. Any high-rise building you walk into in the whole of New York, you could be 99.9% sure that he owns it.

Five star hotels, bars of any kind, and award-winning Michelin restaurants. Oh, you name it. This was his world and we were just living in it.

On the other hand, the Fushiguro company's pay was decent. Working conditions were way above standard. It was a luxury to work in his office, but knowing you, it just wasn't enough.

You needed more than that. Which is why you took up escorting, suggested by your best-friend one night while the two of you were intoxicated by liquor. She told you that you had the looks, the bod, and a personality anyone would die for. And lastly, you were captivating - you could have anything your way.

At first you took it as a joke. Thinking she was just being a lick ass. But surprisingly you had tried it out not long after the idea was proposed, and you ended up making almost double your annual net salary in just four months. This night job was a secret that only you and your best-friend knows about.

Of course, you worked on the weekends. Choosing to work Monday to Thursday would’ve been self sabotage.

You had more than enough money to buy whatever you want, send your mom on holiday, and you were always on top of rent. Your corporate job was just something to get through the day with rather than rotting at home.

During shifts, you and the other escorts would hang around in the night club changing rooms. Most of the girls were also strippers in the same club, but that wasn’t really your thing. So you just stayed with escorting. Your manager would just assign each of you clients, unless someone has personally booked you in.

Speaking of which, a voice came from the door frame. “Star, you have a client tonight. 9PM.” Star wasn’t your real name, it was just a fake one that you used while you escorted. It was safer, and most of the other girls did the same.

You look at Geto, your boss, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Busy polishing up your eyeliner, you try your best not to poke yourself in the eye. “Name? And did he obey my no-home rule?”

As an escort, you did have some rules for your own service. You figured you’ve been doing this for quite a reasonable amount of time, so you made a personal rule where you’d refuse to go to a clients house. For safety reasons.

“Goes by the name.. uh�� Eznin? And he did indeed. Seems like he booked in for the Ritz Carlton on 25 West. Think he’s a first time client too.” He reads the details off his tablet.

Of course, it just had to be one of Fushiguros hotels. You literally couldn’t escape that man.

The other girls in the room purred, “Aren’t you lucky.. Seems like he has money, don’t ya think?” Meimei takes a puff of her cigarette, looking at you in the mirror aswell for a response. “Maybe check for an expensive watch? I’d take it if I were you.”

“Not funny, Meimei.” She was known for stealing from her clients, you never knew how she got away with it. It even got so bad to the point that she sp¡ked a client, taking his wallet afterwards.

Getting up from the chair, you made your way behind the dressing divider, shimmying your robe off to slide on a dark blue lingerie set. Over it, you wore a simple black dress. I mean, you could never go wrong with a little black dress.

Throwing on some matching strappy heels, you stuffed your purse with some condoms and lube. And a plan B, of course.

“Your rides sorted,” Geto stood back from the door frame. “I’ll text you any further details.”

“Copy,” after spritzing on some perfume, you made your way out of the club.

An all-black SUV was waiting for you outside the entrance. Your favourite driver, Todo was standing beside the car door, smiling as you approached him.

“Hi, Todo.” You smiled as he held the door open.

“You look wonderful miss.” Todo smiles back before closing the door, walking around to the drivers side.

The car drives on, and as you were securing a secret mic in your purse, (for safety reasons but the client never knows) Todo speaks.

“Ah- Miss, not sure if I should disclose this information but your client tonight is.. very wealthy.” His leather covered hands clutch onto the wheel. “I’d be more demanding if I were you, make the most of it.”

Breaking out into a laugh, you stop fiddling with your bag, to look at him in the rear view mirror. “..Is that so?”

“Yeah… thought I might let you know.” He grins, bringing the car to a stop. Todo quickly scurries out of the vehicle before you could, opening the door for you.

“Thanks for the ride, Todo.” You slipped a $20 bill in his hand. “I’ll text you when I’m finished.”

He nods, getting back into the car as you made your way inside of the hotel.

Checking your phone for updates, Geto sent you a text with all the details around five minutes ago.

Eznin Caln 30 years old, Net worth- $307,473,297 Floor number 43, he’ll let you in.

You walked over to the elevators, luckily one was already open. Taking a look at the buttons panel, you looked for a 43. Noticing it was the last highest button, you raised an eyebrow before pressing it.

Clutching onto the straps of your purse, the doors closed. You could only look at yourself in the metal reflection, taking a few deep breaths. Of course, you made sure to send a text back to Geto to let him know you were at the hotel.

Although you were decently experienced in this job, you’d still get nervous each time you were about to meet your clients.

Setting down the fly aways in your hair, the elevator came to a halt.

*Ding!*

The metal doors opened before your eyes. Hesitant, you walked inside, the bottom of your heels tapping against the wooden floors.

“..Hello?” You peeked inside the other rooms in the penthouse, one being a mini office that seemed like someone was just there, the other being a bedroom with big windows and a balcony, overlooking the city.

A deep voice spoke behind you. “Can I help you?”

You gasp, clutching onto your chest as you turned around. “I’m so sorr- Mr. Fushiguro?!”

Your eyes widened, and his mouth wide open. He was only in a towel wrapped around his waist, his dark hair wet from a fresh shower. You couldn’t help but ogle the drops of water that decorated his muscular body.

“…Are you.. the escort?”

Unable to form words, you swallowed your spit before speaking. “I.. I am.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at the ground.

“Alright, make yourself comfortable.” He eyed you up and down, a mini towel in his hand to dry his hair. “Sorry you have to see me like this, excuse me while I put some clothes on.”

Is he not going to question anything?..

Your breath hitched, God, did he know I was eyeing him? “Okay..”

He turned around to go back to the bathroom, but looked over his shoulder as he was doing so. “Just call me Toji, we’re outside of work.”

You watched as Toji continued to walk away, “Well.. I’m basically working, aren’t I.” you muttered under your breath, making sure he doesn’t hear.

Looking around, you remembered that he owned this hotel. I should’ve known when I was going to the 43rd floor, he doesn’t let anyone in here.

You walked over to his bedroom, it was bigger than your own apartment. The sheets were neatly made, and a bottle of Malbec sat on a table near the window.

Placing your purse on small sofa, you removed your jacket, neatly folding it over the arm rest aswell.

You made your way to his closet, in search for a white robe. There was a robe on the hanger beside his freshly dry cleaned suits. You took it out, tracing your fingers over “The Ritz-Carlton” that was embroidered onto the front in cursive.

Sliding your dress off, you covered yourself in the robe, only the dark blue lingerie set underneath. Afterwards you tied a knot around your waist with the belt. Kicking off your heels, you placed them inside the closet, along with your dress that was neatly folded.

Although you were an escort, you made sure to clean up after yourself. You hated leaving a mess around, so you respected your clients by making sure to leave the place clean.

You could hear Toji walk into the bedroom. Closing the doors of the closet, you turned to him, and he was already busy getting the wine bottle open with a corkscrew.

Taking a seat on the armchair in front of him, causing you to be at crotch level with Toji. You watched as his arms flex each time he handled the bottle.

You noticed Toji was in a more relaxed outfit. He wore a dark grey cotton longsleeve that sculpted over his muscles like paint, with bottoms in a matching colour and fabric.

“Toji,” you called out his name.

The pouring of the wine stopped, his fingers gently pushing the glass towards you. “Hmm?”

Taking the glass by the stem, you twisted it between your fingers. “Do you regularly hire escorts?”

Toji walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting down. He sighed, looking at the city view in front of him. “No,” taking a sip, he continued. “This is my first time, actually.”

You did the same, but taking a tinier sip. You didn’t want to be tipsy while carrying out your service. It was too dangerous. “..Oh.”

Looking back at Toji, he was busy staring at the red liquid swirling around in the glass. “I dont even really know how they work.”

As you were about to take another sip, you paused. Your eyes looked at him over the rim of the glass, before placing it back down on the table.

“You can just do whatever you want with me, really.” You crossed your legs, exposing the bare skin on your thigh to him.

"I see," he nods, slightly leaning back onto the bed, using his hands for support.

"So, you made up your mind yet?" you got up from the arm chair, making your way to Toji who was on the bed. "What you wanna do?" You stood yourself between his legs, as he tried his best to hold himself back from pulling on the knot that was holding your entire robe together.

Toji's hands rested on your hips on top the robe, dangerously close to your ass. He made sure to bring you closer to him, almost pressing your chest to his face at this point. "I don't know," His free hand tugged on the knot of the belt, slowly unraveling it until the robe slid off your body. "Maybe you, if that's an option."

He could feel his cock strain against his pants as he took in the sight of you in nothing but lingerie, it felt like he was opening a present on his birthday. Blue was his favorite color.

You choked on your words at his response, he sure did have a way with his words. "I don't usually allow that, but maybe I'll let it slide tonight."

Toji caressed your wet lip with his thumb, gradually sliding it inside of your mouth as you sucked on it gently. He stops and moves you to the side by the waist, getting up from the bed.

Confused, you stay standing in front of the bed, watching Toji as he grabs something from the drawer. He eventually makes his way back onto the bed, but this time, leaning his head back against the head-board.

Toji takes out his wallet, pulling a $20 bill out and placing it on the nightstand beside him. "..Crawl over to me."

Your lashes flutter as you watched him place the bill on the night stand, you could only obey what he asked you to do. 'I'm just doing my job.. this doesn't mean anything. He will forget about this.' You constantly chanted this in your thoughts, completely disregarding the fact that he was your boss.

You crawled onto the bed, and slowly to him. Toji's eyes watched you closely making sure to tell you, "Stop," as you were just about to crawl onto his lap.

He takes out another $20 bill from his wallet, this time, two. Toji gently raised his knee, just enough for it to rub against your warm cunt that was covered by the lace panties. "Ride my leg, until I tell you to stop."

Aroused, which you are not meant to be, you couldn't help but sink yourself down onto his leg. Part of you wanted this, but you did at good job at not showing it.

You slowly started to move your hips back and forth on his lower thigh, placing both of your hands down in front of you for support. Toji's hardened cock begging to come out as he watched you closely.

If you were to lift up his top, you’d be able to see his leaking top peeking out of his waistband. The straps of your bra slowly fell down off your shoulders. Toji could almost groan at this lewd sight in front of him.

"Good girl," He did his best to hold himself back from holding onto your hips, "Keep going."

A spot on the fabric of his pants turned into a darker grey than before, your slick making its way through your panties. Nothing can be done.

Breathy moans started to crawl out of your throat, Toji noticing as you started to grind on his leg harder and slightly faster. "Stop."

You whimpered quietly as Toji retracted his leg from underneath you, observing the newly made wet spot on his pants. "Look at this mess you made all over me.."

Speechless, and breathless, you fell back onto your heels in front of Toji, he took another bill out, but this time $50.

"..I want that bra off." He slaps the bill onto the growing pile on the nightstand, followed by another 50. But he doesn't take his eyes off you. "And the panties. They're kinda annoying me now."

Doing exactly as he said, Toji's hand rested on his crotch, aching to palm himself through his pants. You slowly, but teasingly unclasped your bra, Toji clearing his throat by the time your tits were finally on display to him.

Followed by your soaked underwear, which at this point was no use. They managed to fly across the bedroom, hanging off a small statue that was on top of a console table.

He just wanted to wrap his mouth around each of them, or even motorboat your titties.

Toji propped himself up in a less relaxed position. "Lie down on your back, legs spread."

Your last sight was him before you fell back on to the bed, your head nearly hanging off the edge. Toji noticed your nipples hardened as soon as your skin made contact with the cold satin sheets. You felt the weight of the bed shift around, as Toji grabbed both of your legs by the thighs, positioning his head between them.

Squirming about, Toji peppered kisses on your inner thighs, his large hand wrapped around one of them. Wasting no time, he went straight to sucking and softly biting on your folds, using his tongue to lap at your bud until it was swollen. Moaning into your pussy, he softly massaged the flesh of your thigh, the vibrations from his grunts adding more to your stimulation.

Busy sucking away, wet noises from his tongue and the slick of your dripping pussy echoing throughout the bedroom. His hand reached behind him, then slowly went back over his shoulder. It was a $100 bill, tucked between his index and middle finger.

You were too busy hanging your head off the edge of the bed in pleasure, grabbing the sheets beside you and wrinkling them as Toji devoured you like he hasn't eaten for weeks.

The paper bill fell onto your stomach, tickling you slightly. You could feel Toji spit onto your pussy, the saliva trickling down almost into your hole before he slurped it back up, sticking his fingers in there instead. You felt them slide into you with ease, Toji swirling his warm tongue around on your clit.

"O-oh God.. To..ji." You managed to choke out a moan, your manicured hands clawing at his hair and eventually messing it up.

Letting go of your thigh, he used his now free hand to fondle with your breasts eagerly, twisting your nipples between his fingertips before giving them a slap.

One last lick on your clit, Toji removed his head between your legs, this time his whole body kneeling between them. You sneakily push up against him, his bulge through his pants grazing against your bare cunt.

Using your strength to lift your head from the edge of the bed, you watched as he took off his shirt, letting it fall onto the floor. Its neckline was soaked from eating you out earlier, but we don't talk about that.

Panting, his hands frantically rummage through his wallet. You noticed it was still bulky, as if the previous cash he pulled out didn't make any difference to the amount he had now.

Toji pulled out $1000 all in 20 bills, your eyes widening, wondering if he was serious.

"Please.. let me fuck you." Toji also sat back on his heels, $1000 in his hands as you were underneath him, fully naked. He just wanted to indulge himself in you, and if he could, he'd make this night last forever.

You slowly nodded, honestly begging to having his cock inside of you too. Before you knew it, your vision was filled with the $1000 raining down onto your body, and by your sides on the bed. He quickly pulled his bottoms down to his knees, before realising they were too annoying. He proceeds to fully kick them off.

Toji glances around the room for a condom, before you stopped him. "..Is it okay if we don't use one? ..I want to feel every inch of you."

You read his mind. "Anything you want, gorgeous."

His large hands shuffled through the pile of cash that was over your body, making sure that he could still see your tits and your beautiful face.

One hand grabbed onto your waist, and the other was used to align the tip of his cock with your hole. As soon as he slightly pushed the tip in, both of his hands were on your waist now.

Toji carefully slid in, making sure you take every inch of him. He closes his eyes in pleasure as he feels your plush walls clench around him, Tojis grip on your waist intensifying.

And, god was he big. In both cock, and Toji in general, he could destroy you if he decided to use full stength tonight.

"Y-you're too.. big," Toji not even halfway, you cry out, only wrinkling the sheets more to the point they weren't tucked into the frame hotel-style anymore.

You could feel both of his thumbs caress the soft skin of your sides as he cooed, "I know baby, I know," Toji let out a grunt as he tried to move in and out of you.

The difference of size between you and Toji made you throb, at this point he could just use his hands to fuck you on his cock back and forth like a doll in his grasp.

Toji starts to pant as he picked up the pace of his ruts, your tits bouncing, only adding to the pornographic sight in front of him.

Covering your face with your hands, you moan into them, the feeling of being full with Tojis cock was driving you mad. You could feel one hand let go of your waist, bringing it to your wrist to pull it away from covering your face.

The rustling of the cash beneath you and the sound of skin slapping echoed out into the living room from the bedroom. "Look at me when I fuck you," Toji says sternly, causing you to whimper in agitation as you did your best to keep your eyes on his.

"To..Toji.." You moan out, choking on your words as your hand grabbed onto his that was wrapped around on your waist.

"Come on doll, say my name." Turning feral, Toji pounds into you like a fleshlight. Voice shaking as you try to moan out his name, and by tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised if you lost your voice.

He comes to a halt, completely. Toji slides his cock out of you, a creamy white ring formed at the base. You whine before he hushes you. "Y'know what," He picks you up, cradling you in his arms.

You switch positions, instead you lock your legs around his waist, as the two of you made your way to the balcony door of the bedroom. Is he..

*click!*

Toji slid the glass door open, the two of you stepping out into the balcony. It wasn't cold, and you could see the still busy city carrying on with life underneath the hotel.

Suddenly, Toji peeled your legs off his waist, making you face the railing, and the city in front of you. You gasp as he roughly positioned your body, placing one leg up onto the rail, your two hands clutching onto the cold metal.

He slides into you again, but this time not allowing you to adjust. Toji immediately goes in with brutal force, your ass ripping against his pelvis as he drilled into you. On the balcony. For anyone to watch.

Toji spits again, his saliva falling onto your asshole and soon enough drips onto his cock that was continuously pounding in and out of you.

Your moans broke out into a giggle due to the ticklish feeling, Toji couldn’t help but smile at your reaction.

Both hands on your waist, Toji groans in pleasure and praises you non-stop for taking him like a good girl. His hand wrapped around your lower stomach as he felt you give in, your legs unable to support yourself. "You're doing so good for me," he whispers in to your ear, only to leave a trail of wet kisses down your back afterwards,

You moan continuously, for sure, everyone below could hear. Your hand made its way to Toji's nape, bringing him closer to you as he repeatedly fucked into your sweet spot.

"I’d do anything to be able to see a view like this one for the rest of my life," his left hand made its way down to your clit, lazily rubbing circles.

This just did it for you, lowly moaning, you let go of Tojis neck. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on the metal rail ontop of your same hands that were grabbing onto it. But a certain someone didn't let you do that.

Toji immediately grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back against his chest, taking your leg off the rail. You felt him interlock his hands around your inner elbow, suddenly fucking into you upwards as you grab onto his bicep for support.

"G-o-d Toji, please just f-u-ck your c-um into me." The enunciation of your words came out in bits, as Toji drilled up into you at a brutal pace.

He grinned against your necks skin, leaning further to plant kisses on your jaw."You want me to fill you with my cum, huh?"

You frantically nod, but that wasn't enough of an answer for a man like Toji.

"Oh baby, use your words." He purred into your ear, holding his orgasm to make sure you get it when you deserve it.

"I need it- I need it so ba-ad." You whimpered out, squeezing onto his bicep. "Please, Toji."

He whined, balls tightening as he heard you beg for him. You already drove him crazy, and that only drove him crazier. With one deep thrust, his movements come to a halt, allowing his warm, thick seed to fill you up completely.

Toji placed more kisses onto your back and your neck, making sure to never lose grip of you in case you go all jelly. Followed by him, slowly pulling his cock out of you, his load dripping out of your hole and onto the balcony flooring.

He stuck two of his fingers back into you, slowly fucking the load inside of you to make sure it stays inside. With his cum covered fingers, he slid the two of them past your lips and into your mouth. You sucked on them, humming as it covered your taste buds, and eventually swallowing.

Toji slapped your ass, and you yelped, giving him a glare. He chuckled before picking you back up bridal style, carrying you back inside the penthouse.

He gently and carefully placed you on the bed, quickly cleaning a bit of the mess you two made around the room.

"How about I go run us a nice bath, hmm?"

Fiddling with your thumbs, you watched as Toji neatly fold the pile of money together alongside the one on the night stand. Of course, it’s still yours. "That sounds good," You smiled as he walked over to give you a peck on the forehead.

The dripping of water from the bath tap rang throughout the room, Toji leaning back against you as the two of you were in the tub. You squeezed a sponge over his abs, the hot water dripping down his skin as he closed his eyes.

"..Toji," you called out his name, and he hums back in response.

You gently rubbed the sponge up and down his arm, "Would you say this counts as me working overtime for you?"

He smiles, opening his eyes to look up at you. "I'll add another $500 bonus and a shopping spree if you ride me in this tub."

You scoff, letting go of the sponge as you sulk against the marble of the tub. "I'm literally stuffed with your cum. I think you had enough, thank you very much."

Toji only laughs, "Aren't you forgetting you got an asshole and that throat of yours? We can easily squeeze in three more rounds."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #jjk fushiguro

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naughtyneganjdm · 3 months ago

Text

Sharing Father and Son

Summary: After a physical hunt, you finally invite John Winchester into your bed, but you get more than you asked for when Dean comes back and gets involved.

Characters: John Winchester, Dean Winchester & reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59479396

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, female reader, threesome, double penetration, unprotected p in v, ass play, age gap, no use of Y/N, etc.

Notes: This is day 2 to go with this kinktober list. The prompt I used was double penetration. When I started this fic, Dean and John were winning the pool so that's why I chose this duo. Credit for the gifs @jdmorganz & @spacedean

In the darkness you laid waiting. A strange smell was coming from the heater that was barely blowing out any hot air, leaving you cuddling the comforter closer to your body. Today you had done something bold. Something you never thought you would have the strength to do. After going on a hunt with John that was very physical, you decided that you wanted to give yourself to him. So when John went to take a shower in the room that was connected to yours, you wrote him a note and left it on the table for him to find when he got back. You made sure to put the corner of the note under the bottle of whiskey so he would certainly see it. John always drank himself to sleep every night so you knew he wouldn’t miss it.

Lately, you had been spending a lot of alone time with John. Especially with Dean trying to prove himself to his father and him going off on his own for hunts. Sam was away at college and truthfully? You looked forward to it just being the two of you.

You were a fellow hunter that teamed up with John and Dean after a group of vampires killed your family. The boys had empathy for you being alone, so they taught you everything they knew and trained you. You were Dean’s age, but there was something about John that drew you to him. When Dean was around, you tried to hide your feelings for John. You didn’t want to make it weird since you were the same age as Dean. When you’d flirt with John, a lot of the time he’d flirt back. On the nights he had a few drinks in him, that’s when John’s confidence seemed to come out more. Maybe it was just because he was more relaxed, but the things he would say to you when the two of you were flirting would warm you to the core. Many nights you wished he would take you, but it often led to John falling asleep with a bottle of alcohol in his hand.

Tonight, you just wanted more. So you finally made it known.

After you left that note for John, you went back to your room leaving the connecting door between the two rooms unlocked. You stripped out of your clothes, turned the lights off and laid at the center of the bed.

Your note was very direct.

I want you. I’ll leave the door unlocked. I’ll be naked underneath the blankets.

It felt like things were taking too long. And that left you having second thoughts. Maybe John didn’t have those kind of feelings toward you. Maybe he would just flirt back with you not to make you feel bad about yourself. The longer you waited, the more you wondered if you should have just put your clothes back on and went to explain yourself to John.

Right as you went to pull the blankets back, the sound of the door pushing open was heard. Your blood rushed through your veins with excitement. Nothing was said. It was so dark in the room with the heavy curtains covering the windows that you couldn’t see him. You just heard him. That was something you were starting to regret.

The sound of something dropping to the floor was heard causing you to let out a nervous breath. There was a dip at the bottom of the bed and you felt the blankets being pulled up at the bottom. A cool rush of air surrounded you, but it was soon replaced by the warmth of a body crawling up the bed from the bottom.

Rough fingertips dragged across your ankle toward the inside of your leg. Immediately it drew chills through your body. With him coming in here? That meant he wanted you too. Tipping your head back into the pillows, you felt the warmth of breath hovering over you. A faint brush of lips was felt at your knee. The short stubble scratched at your flesh and you liked the way that it felt.

You wanted to speak, but he seemed determined on something else. Each kiss grew stronger as it led up over the inside of your thigh. There was a wetness that was left over your skin and you licked your lips. More than anything you wished you could watch him, but the idea that you couldn’t see seemed to enhance the sensation of his kisses over your flesh. So maybe this was a good thing.

Gasping, you felt arms hooking under your thighs to pull you down toward the center of the bed closer to him. The force his hands had on your flesh was strong and you were surprised how eager he seemed for this. Licking your lips, you lifted your head with the warmth of his breath lingering over your most personal parts. His right arm released one of your legs, pushing at your thigh to separate your legs enough for him to be able to bury his head between your thighs.

A few stray kisses were pressing further up the inside of your thigh until he found your core. Kiss after gentle kiss covered your folds with him taking his time. By the time his tongue dragged a strip out over the length of your sex, he had you trembling with anticipation. Focusing on the buildup was not something that you pictured John doing, but he was. When his tongue met your clit, it circled your sensitive bundle of nerves with soft circles at first. Growing in strength with each circle of his tongue led to him slurping at the small nub.

Moaning out, your hips lifted toward him wanting to feel more of that, but his left arm was still hooked around your other thigh keeping you locked in place. Stretching your arms up, you balled the material of the blanket in your fingers squeezing tightly. Each stroke of his tongue grew stronger focusing for a while on your clit until he turned his attention onto your folds sucking at them and giving them a small nibble.

Your breathing grew broken, your eyes slamming shut with him drawing a long line down from your clitoris to your entrance. Teasing at the tight hole had you whimpering out, your fingers squeezing even harder at the blankets. Prodding at your entrance with his tongue, he slurped and sucked before dragging the length of his tongue back up toward your clitoris to do the same dance with his tongue.

That’s where he focused for a while, his mouth working hard at the bundle of nerves. Switching from his mouth to his fingers to circle it with a bit of pressure. He was working to get you to an orgasm first and you appreciated it. You were enjoying what he was doing very much and you were letting him know with the sounds he was drawing out from you.

Crying out, your hips were rocking into his movements with your thighs twitching. You were right on the edge of your orgasm and he could tell by the way you were breathing. The strength of his tongue grew with him burying his head further between your thighs. It didn’t take long before you were shuddering beneath him, your thighs tremoring from what he had done to you.

Releasing the blanket, you licked your lips and tried to catch your breath. Fuck. That was good. Soon he was kissing up the lengths of your body. Over your abdomen, between your breasts and then over the side of your neck. Bracing his weight over your body, you felt the warmth of his breath lingering over your lips and you leaned up toward him wanting him to kiss you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” the familiar voice breathed against your lips causing your body to immediately tense up. You knew that voice, but the only problem? That wasn’t John Winchester.

“Dean?” you blurt out his name hearing the confused breath that followed.

“Yeah?” Dean’s raspy voice replied back. Involuntarily, without thinking, you immediately pushed into the center of his chest shoving him back. Scrambling for the light, you flicked it on and when you met the green-eyed stare of John’s son you let out a small scream. It had Dean jumping up from the bed, standing beside it. He was shirtless only wearing his jeans that were hanging low at his hips. The room was spinning around you as you buried your face in your hands. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s going on?” the door swung open with John soaked standing in the doorway clinging tightly to the worn-down white towel that he had grabbed from the bathroom. Coming to a quick halt, John’s eyes fell upon your bare breasts that were revealed with the blanket hanging at your waist and color flooded into his face. “Oh, wow…”

Tugging the blanket up, you covered yourself wishing that the world would just open up and swallow you whole. Lifting your stare, you saw that John was looking to Dean expecting some kind of answer. Dean threw his hands up in the air, his jaw flexing in panic. Having a nearly naked John soaking wet, only holding the towel that he had grabbed together with his hand and a shirtless Dean in your room made you feel lightheaded.

“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on, or…?” John finally spoke up, reaching up to brush his fingers through his wet hair to slick it back.

“I got the note you left for me,” Dean explained pulling the note you left for John out of his back pocket. Holding it up, it had John’s eyes narrowing trying to read what it said. “I don’t understand, why did you just scream?”

“Damn it,” you scoffed under your breath hating that you were being put in this position. “I didn’t leave that note for you, I left it for him.”

Pointing to John had Dean’s face going completely pale, his eyes growing wide as he looked to John, “Him? My dad?”

“I didn’t even know you were going to be back today Dean,” you claimed with guilt eating away at you over what just happened. John stepped forward to snatch the note from Dean’s fingers to read it. A raspy laugh fell from John’s lips that he tried to hide by biting down on his bottom lip. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” John confessed with a wrinkle of his nose looking between the two of you. “Come on, I thought it could be something bad. Demons. Vampires. Something else. This? This is at least a little amusing.”

“It’s not,” Dean snapped, his chest rising and falling heavily. By his reaction, he was offended that the note you left was for his father and not him. “I thought dad told you that I was coming back tonight and you missed me.”

“I mean, I missed you, but…” your eyes lingered back to John, your stare dropping down to the top of his towel making your mouth go dry. “It was meant for him.”

“You…you want to be with my dad?” Dean blurt out, his face scrunching up in disgust looking between you and John. You were embarrassed, but at the same time your body was still euphoric off the orgasm that Dean had got you to before everything fell to shit. “But, you’re my age.”

“I know,” you whispered noticing that John was really quiet in the moment. His hazel eyes were shifting as if he was contemplating things. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were attracted to me. We kissed several times,” Dean reminded you of your past together with the years that you spent alone. “I’ve been crushing on you this whole time and I thought you were playing hard to get. I thought the time away from me…”

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” John interrupted Dean, holding his finger up to silence his son. “We can actually make a very good thing happen from this.”

“How?” Dean panted, his hands resting at his hips while he tried to catch his breath. “I just found out the woman that I’m jonesing for wants to fuck my dad. I can’t imagine how weird that is for you since she’s my age.”

“Well…” John paused to think about what to say next, his eyes fixating on you again. “I wouldn’t have turned her down if I found the note first Dean.”

“Come again?” Dean threw his head about dramatically with John sucking at his bottom lip. “The two of you…you want to…?”

“I do,” John admitted with a grunt, carefully closing the door behind him. Switching on the main light, John cleared his throat and waved his hand about in the air. “So you want me?”

You nodded.

“What about mom?” Dean stammered to find words, his eyebrows furrowed with John muttering something under his breath.

“Your mom is dead, Dean. I will love her until the day I die and I will do everything to avenge her, but…” John let his words linger, his head tipping from side to side. “I am a man…and she’s a beautiful woman. We all have needs.”

It went silent in the room. Dean didn’t know how to handle that. But you were thankful John was fighting for this.

“How about a two for one deal?” John reasoned having Dean let out an overwhelmed exhale. “You obviously have some kind of attraction for Dean. Would you be against having both of us?”

“Dad?” Dean tried to get his father’s attention with John holding his hand up to silence Dean.

“I mean…” you started, taking a look between both of them. Dean was breathing heavily, undoubtedly worked up and confused. After what Dean had just done to you, he proved that he was ultimately talented with his mouth. That was the honest to god truth. “I wouldn’t say no. It’s Dean that I would worry about.”

“You like the girl, right?” John commented, stepping further into the room, shrugging his broad shoulders. “This way you get to be with her. We both do.”

“Yeah, but you’re my dad,” Dean stressed, his eyes narrowing and he dramatically bobbed his head about. “That’s…that’s kind of weird.”

“It’s bonding,” John came up with the first thing he could think of and it made you smile. John was trying to come up with an idea to make this work for everyone and honestly? You didn’t hate it. “It’s a father and a son sharing…”

Swallowing down hard, John moved over to the side of the bed lowering down on it. Extending his hand out, he grabbed the blankets and pulled it down over your body letting the blanket rest at your hips. Your naked upper half was on display and you were okay with it.

Stretching out his long fingers, John palmed in over your abdomen. Dragging it up over your breast, he cupped it firmly in his large hand and it had Dean’s cheeks flushing over with color, “If you want to leave, you’re welcome to, but I think you’d be missing out.”

Giving his son a final glance, John turned toward you, using his free hand to curl his finger in underneath your chin to get you to raise your head up. Claiming your lips in a forceful kiss took your breath away. Your eyes came to a slow close with the way he took you in that moment. You had always wanted to kiss John, but never had the guts to do it. Now with his lips caressing over yours, you were eagerly kissing him back enjoying the taste of him. Surprised, you felt his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to brush against yours and you lifted your hand to hook your fingers into his wet hair.

“Good girl,” John growled when his lips pulled away from yours, capturing your jaw between his thumb and index fingers. Stealing a quick look back at Dean, John knew that by the expression over his son’s face he was lost in contemplation. “If this weirds you out too much, you’re welcome to leave.”

In that moment, John’s hand lowered with his thumb circling over your nipple causing it to grow into a hard bud. He was so nonchalant about the way he was doing things. It had Dean’s eyes following the movement with his lips parting.

After taking a minute to consider, Dean’s hands rested at his hips and he nodded, “You would want both of us? And you’re okay with that?”

“I am,” you admitted right as John lowered down again to start covering the side of your neck with wet kisses. His left hand wrapped around your throat in a possessive grasp eliciting a hiss from you, but you liked the way that it felt.

With a nod, Dean moved across the room and sat at the other side of you opposite of John. Matching his father’s motions, Dean’s lips pressed in over your jawline pampering your flesh with wet kisses. The grasp John’s hand had on your throat grew stronger having you suck in a sharp breath. A moment later, he was standing up from the bed and Dean stole a quick kiss from your lips. The taste of you still lingered over his lips making you hum.

“Alright sweetheart,” John breathed out, curling his finger in underneath your chin to get you to turn your head toward him. Releasing the grasp he had on the towel had it fall to his feet in a thud allowing his body to be exposed to you. With John still being wet from his shower, the dark curls of hair over his body enhanced the lines of every inch of him. John’s girthy uncut cock was semi-erect and it was big. He also had a nice set of testicles on him too. It took your breath away seeing it. By the look on John’s face you knew he was waiting for you to pleasure him. You could tell by the expecting look in his hazel eyes. Grabbing a hold of the base, John wiggled it a bit bringing your attention to it. “Go ahead.”

With a smirk you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, throwing your legs over the side. Stepping closer, John allowed you to press lingering kisses at his hips. It had his head tipping back, his long eyelashes fluttering to a close. Nibbling at the soft flesh just under his navel had him releasing an intoxicating growl that spread chills throughout your body.

Shakily reaching up, your fingers curled loosely around John’s manhood giving it a few small strokes. At that moment, you felt the warmth of Dean moving in behind you. A tender caress at your shoulders was felt before he started pampering your flesh with hot, wet kisses. Stepping closer to the bed, John lifted his cock up to your lips dragging it across your lips.

“Be a good girl and open your mouth,” John ordered and you did as he said. Wrapping your lips around John’s cock had him humming out with his fingers sinking into your hair. With flicks of your tongue, you lapped at John’s body enjoying how he seemed to grow harder in your mouth. Purring out against John’s flesh had him moaning out when you felt Dean’s hands drag across the length of your breasts. Dean’s hands were everywhere, touching you and caressing you in attempts to sooth you and make you comfortable. Pulling your lips away from John’s body, you took your time to sheath him in your grasp teasing the flesh back and forth over his growing erection. His hazel eyes watched you closely with you leaning in to kiss at the tip of his cock, sweeping your tongue around the sensitive underside. “That’s it.”

Purring out, you felt Dean’s hand reaching between your thigh to caress over your mound. The sound vibrated against John’s body having him involuntarily arching forward toward you. Dean left tiny nibbles at your shoulder and John led you back toward his arousal. Hooking his fingers around the back of your head helped in leading you to take his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. It was hard to take at first, a slight gagging sound falling from your throat with John groaning out. Thrusting his hips toward your throat had his cock pulling back and pushing forward toward the back of your throat. Wet, slurping sounds were filling the air and John’s manhood was growing harder with every move he made.

“That’s good,” John hummed, pulling you away from his cock by grasping your hair and tugging you back. Stroking his erection in his palm drew attention to the tip and you held your tongue out eliciting a smile from John. Tapping his length against your tongue had an amused rumble of a sound escaping him. Dean’s fingers were working furiously between your thighs and greedily you were rocking your hips against his movements. Dragging your tongue across the slit of John’s manhood left you with the taste of him and you licked your lips. “Dean, get up.”

Snapping his fingers, John pointed to the area beside him. Doing as he was told had you panting out, yearning to be touched again with your hips twitching and your body aching at the loss of friction. Whimpering, John’s firm grasp returned with him getting you to tip your head back. A demanding, breath-taking kiss was stolen from your lips and it had you caressing up over the back of his neck, sinking your fingers into his thick locks. The way his tongue caressed over yours made it feel like the room was spinning around you. As soon as Dean stepped before you, John took his time pulling back, giving your bottom lip a tiny tug and then he dragged his tongue out over the inside of your bottom lip.

Licking his lips when he pulled away, John dragged his thumb over his bottom lip. There was still discomfort in Dean’s features when you looked to him. Undoubtedly this was the first time that he had a threesome with his father and you pictured that’d be uncomfortable for anyone. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John stroking over his length in sluggish movements. Between the two of them, there were a lot of similarities, but also a lot of differences. John had a lot more hair on his body, whereas Dean was mostly smooth.

Grasping to the loops on Dean’s jeans, you tugged him forward eliciting a gasp from him. Stumbling toward you, Dean swept his fingers in over the side of your face drawing you to close your eyes. Turning your head toward his touch left you appreciating the gentleness of Dean. Kissing at his pulse point took Dean’s breath away and he shuddered. There was a big difference between John and Dean already. John was dirty in the best of ways, but Dean appeared to be more innocent. Then again, did an innocent man really have that kind of talent when going down on someone?

Unhooking the belt in Dean’s pants, you felt a breath catch in your throat with John lowering down beside you on the bed. John was sweeping your hair from your neck, his mouth covering the side of your neck with you pulling apart Dean’s pants. Licking his lips, Dean traced his thumb in over your bottom lip collecting the wetness at your lips. Allowing him to push his thumb into your mouth, you looked up at him with big eyes enjoying the way that it felt between the two of them.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dean commented, his green eyes locked on your movements while you sucked at the tip.

“Fucking gorgeous,” John agreed, his large palm pressing between your thighs causing your eyes to flutter to a close. Shifting your hips forward and opening your thighs gave room for John to caress and touch you as he pleased.

Parting the material of Dean’s jeans, you tried to focus yourself. Sliding your hands down over his hips, you grabbed at his jeans tugging them down firmly. The movement had Dean’s hard cock bouncing free from behind the confinements. Unlike John, Dean was already rock solid with his erection throbbing. Which honestly made since after everything the two of you had already gone through before John showed up. Like his father, he was uncut and big. Not as thick as John, but still impressive. It visibly ran in the family.

The way it bobbed in front of you had your mouth watering. Like you had done with John, you curled your fingers around Dean’s length, stroking it while you peppered his hips with wet kisses. Gasping, you felt your body being pulled forward toward the edge of the bed. It had you falling back on your elbows. John had lowered himself between your thighs and Dean had knelt on the corner of the bed to make it easier for him to trace the tip of his cock over your lips. Drawing your mouth open further, you allowed Dean to press his hips forward to sink his cock between your lips. Dragging your tongue along the smooth length of his cock had Dean dropping his head back and moaning out.

John now had situated himself between your legs, his rough palms caressing over the fleshy part of your thighs. It was hard to focus with John’s kisses growing closer to your core, but you did your best to stroke over Dean’s body at the same pace that your mouth was moving over his length. By the time that John’s mouth met your center, it was easy to tell that he was much rougher than Dean was. Closing your eyes, you hummed against Dean’s cock getting him to shudder on his knees before you. Bracing himself with his free hand on the bed, Dean lowered just enough to help start thrusting his hips forward drawing his cock further into your throat.

Wet slurping sounds surrounded the both of you between John eating you out and you giving Dean a blowjob. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see John shaking his head from side to side. Pulling back every so often to lick his lips. John was feasting on you like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Growls were escaping his throat, his tongue lapping at your entrance having you crying out.

One of John’s long, slender digits circled your entrance before pushing forward into your warmth. Cooing out, you watched John pumping his finger inside of you at a steady tempo. Joining the first, John inserted a second finger rubbing them up against your g-spot. Dropping his head back between your thighs, John’s lips latched to your clit, slurping and suckling at the sensitive bud.

“Rest back,” Dean urged you getting you to lay back against the bed. Bracing his hands on the bed, Dean used his right hand to urge his cock back to your lips. Opening up, you knew you were shaking with what John was building up inside of you. Sinking his member back into your mouth had Dean moaning out at the heat that surrounded him. Being careful at first, Dean was thrusting his hips working to fuck your throat while John pleasured you.

It was hard to breathe, but you were doing your best with your hands squeezing up and over Dean’s hips. Tremoring, you began to realize the pressure that John was flooding you with. The pit of your belly was tingling, your hips arching up toward every caress of his tongue. Moaning out sent vibrations throughout Dean’s body with his cock down your throat. A wet sound filled the air with a growl from John having you pulling your hips up and away from him. Pushing into Dean’s hip gave him the hint he needed to let you have a minute with you rolling onto your side. Your body was shaking, your thighs twitching and your eyes slammed close.

“Oh, she’s gonna be fun,” John stammered, getting up from the bed and reaching for you. Moving you to the center of the bed, John gave Dean a quick look and cleared his throat. “Why don’t you go first?”

“Yeah?” Dean confirmed with John who gave him a confident nod. Crawling in over you, Dean attempted to get you to open your eyes. Whimpering out, your breathing was broken and your body was still high off of what John had done to you. “Look at me beautiful.”

Forcing your eyes open, your heart skipped a beat at the way that Dean was looking at you. Even though this whole thing was meant for John, you weren’t really losing out in getting Dean either. He was gorgeous and the way he looked at you took your breath away.

“I’m gonna go grab something,” John announced pointing back toward the door that connected your rooms together. There was a kick to his step, but before you could say anything to beckon him back, Dean’s hand palmed in over the side of your face getting your eyes to connect with his.

This was never a way you pictured yourself with Dean. Yeah, the two of you had kissed in heat of the moment situations or when you were both drunk, but you never saw it going any further than that. But now with the warmth of Dean’s naked body over yours, you realized that this was actually happening.

Bracing himself on his left hand, Dean allowed his hand to trace down over your side, down over your hip and to your thigh. Chills flooded your body with the way it felt, your breath catching in your throat with the way he looked at you. It was safe to say that you were looking at Dean in a completely new light.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of doing this,” Dean breathed, his words vibrating against your lips with you arching up toward him wanting him to kiss you. An arrogant smirk tugged at his lips and it was a smile that you had seen so many times before on John. Bringing your lips together in a heated sweep, Dean reached between the two of you leading himself to your entrance. With a push forward of his hips, the tip entered you causing you to moan out and drop your head back into the pillows further. Dean’s lips found their way to your jawline, peppering your skin with wet kisses that felt incredible.

Dean’s forehead pressed forward against yours, pushing forward agonizingly slow until he filled you completely. It had your hips arching up toward his, your body trembling at the way it felt with him inside of you. Your lips were agape, your fingers caressing into Dean’s shoulders until his hips pulled back. Each movement was dragged out with Dean thrusting forward and then back. Everything was brand new so you felt like Dean was taking his time to cherish the way your warmth felt around him. Footsteps were heard and you clung to Dean, looking beyond the bed to see that John was returning to the room. Setting down what he had grabbed on the corner table, John smirked seeing you biting down on your bottom lip as Dean’s movements grew faster. Sharp breaths were falling from your throat, your eyes locked on John’s while his son fucked you. Dropping his hand down, John curled his fingers around his swollen erection sheathing the skin in his fist as he jerked himself off.

With your eyes still locked on John, you kissed at the side of Dean’s face moaning in his ear as his thrusts became more pronounced with his hips smacking up against yours.

“Alright Dean, don’t be greedy,” John slurred, moving over beside the bed to hint to Dean that it was time to switch up. With a frown, Dean pulled his hips away from yours leaving you with a whimpering sound. It didn’t take long for John to reach for you, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Positioning himself between your thighs, he got on his knees at the edge of the bed hooking his arms under your knees to pull your legs up over his thighs. “You’ve been a real tease, you know that?”

Licking your lips, you lowered your stare to watch John grabbing a hold of his erection, tapping the swollen tip against your clit. Purring out, you arched your hips up toward John hearing him hum in appreciation. Tracing his cock over the length of your sex, John took his time to admire your body stretched out before him. Lining his body up with your entrance had you sucking in a sharp breath of air. With a firm smack forward, John thrust inside of you with a wet sound. Unlike Dean who took his time, John forced you to take all of him. Whining out, your body arched at the stretching feeling his thick cock left you with.

“Now that’s a beautiful sight,” John hummed, licking his lips at the way his cock looked inside of you. Pulling his hips back dragged out his girthy cock just to the tip. Hooking his arms tightly around your thighs, John smacked forward again. It had your breasts bouncing with the force, your cries flooding the air. Repeating the motion again and again, John kept his right arm hooked firmly around your thigh while the left outstretched to cup one of your breasts in his large palm. Circling his thumb in over the nipple, with his head tipping back.

“Does that feel good?” Dean whispered, the warmth of him pressing in beside you and you felt his lips kissing at your jawline. Nodding, you couldn’t form words. You just turned your head to the side and met Dean in another hot, lingering kiss. John’s thrusts seem to grow stronger having you wince against Dean’s mouth. Dropping his right hand, Dean’s fingers connected with your clit trying to match the pace his father’s hips were making. Cooing out, you bit at Dean’s bottom lip giving it a firm tug enjoying the moan that you got from Dean.

“I have an idea,” John announced, pulling his body from yours swiftly leaving you with the worst empty, aching feeling that you could imagine. Breathing loudly, your heart was hammering in your chest while Dean’s fingers continue to caress over your sensitive folds. Heading to the table to grab what he had brought in, John waved his finger about and nodded toward the bed. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Doing as you were told, which you often did when John gave you an order, you shakily pulled yourself up. It was harder than you thought it would be with the way your body was tremoring. Bracing yourself, you looked over your shoulder when you felt someone palming down between your shoulder blades over the length of your spine. It was John who was gazing over your body. His erection bounced with his movement when he palmed down over your hips to give them a firm squeeze.

With John behind you, Dean worked himself before you to lower himself down on the bed. Motioning you to lower down, Dean curled his fingers around the back of your neck and led your mouth back to his length. This time you took him eagerly between your lips, working to bob your head in steady movements over his manhood.

“You have such a beautiful ass,” John growled, his hands squeezing at your fleshy bottom. Giving it a firm spank had you moaning against Dean’s cock and his head dropped back with a throaty groan. Another spank had your hips bouncing forward and then back against John. The sensation of his cock pressing against your bottom was there as he palmed and squeezed at your flesh once more. Pulling your lips from Dean’s arousal with a wet popping sound, you purred out with John kissing at your lower back and his hands caressing at your thighs. Lowering down behind you, John squeezed at your fleshy bottom, separating the flesh so he could drag his tongue in a long strip along the length of your sex. Focusing on your entrance, John’s tongue flicked, plunged and he slurped at your flesh. Kissing at the tip of Dean’s cock, you tried to focus on continuing to give him a blowjob but you felt John’s tongue drag out against your tight pucker and it made you whimper. Looking back, you saw John pushing apart your cheeks while his tongue focused on your ass eliciting a whine from you. It was a strange sensation that you had never done before, but you didn’t hate it. It had your body tremoring, your hips bouncing back toward him with a growl from John vibrating against your body. Pulling back, John spit causing your hips to bounce forward before he went back to eagerly feasting at your body. Standing up, John yanked your hips back and sank into you again with his thumb circling your tight pucker. Trembling beneath him, your head lowered resting against Dean’s hip with the loud smacking sounds that John’s thrusts were causing. “Do you think you can take the both of us.”

“You mean…” you cooed out with John’s thumb pushing it’s way into the ring of muscle of your tight canal while he continued to pound into your pussy leaving you a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” John rumbled proudly, sucking in a sharp breath with how good it felt with the warmth of your body surrounding him. By the sounds you were making and the way you were tremoring, it was obvious that you were nearing another orgasm. Right when he got you to the edge, he pulled from your body eliciting an upset whine. “Lay down on your side. Dean, get her comfortable.”

Helping you to roll over onto your side, Dean laid in beside you urging your leg up over his hip. Pressing in closely, Dean reached between the two of you to lead his cock back into your eager body. Arching in closer to Dean, you were still riding off the high of John almost getting you to another orgasm only to keep you from it. Dean’s heavy breaths were warm against your lips while the two of you shared kisses with the bed dipping behind you.

The heat of John’s body moving in behind you had your forehead pressing to Dean’s. Licking at his lips, Dean’s fingers swept over your jawline having you turn your head toward his hand to press a kiss at the center of his palm.

Tender caresses were felt over your fleshy bottom and it surprised you since John had been rather forceful with the way he had done things previously. Looking back over your shoulder, you met John in a passionate kiss. Sliding in closer to you, John reached for the bottle of lube that he had grabbed earlier. Popping open the lid had your heart hammering inside of your chest. Dean’s movements had slowed with his hands dropping to your hips to keep you steady.

“Dean,” you panted, your body aching with the way he was stagnant inside of you. Your body wanted that movement, it needed it. Forcing you forward toward Dean, John’s hands braced at the small of your back. Arching your back, you felt the cool liquid pouring down in over your flesh and closed your eyes tightly when John’s fingers started to stroke and prod over your tight pucker. Wincing, you buried your head against the side of Dean’s neck, panting when John’s fingers entered you. Thrusting again and again to prepare you for what undoubtedly you weren’t ready for.

When John’s fingers pulled from your body, you whined and John hushed you from behind. Again he reached for the bottle to coat his thick cock in the slick fluid. Pressing his hips forward, John brought your bodies together with all of your legs tangling with how you were sandwiched between both him and Dean.

“You’re such a good girl,” John growled, nipping at your jawline giving your chin a small bite. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, you tensed up with the swollen tip of John’s cock at your tight hole. Bouncing your hips up had Dean moaning out and his grasp on your hips grew tighter. “Hey, relax. I would never hurt you. Ever.”

“I know,” you tried to relax yourself, lowering your hips back down. Caressing down over your arm, John’s left hand found yours. Hooking his fingers with yours, he used his right hand to lead himself into your tight opening. A deep rumble of a growl fell from John’s throat as the tip of his cock pushed through the tight ring of muscle. It had you clutching tightly to Dean who whispered calming words in your ear while he pressed kisses against your skin. “John.”

“I know,” John hushed, a raspy moan rumbling against the back of your neck from where he was nuzzling his nose. Reaching back, you grasped a hold of John’s thigh, your fingers digging into his flesh. Using his strength, he pushed forward further having you let out a pained sound. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” you realized that your fingers were digging so hard into his skin that he might have thought you needed to. “Just give me a minute…”

“No problem,” John whispered, his hand lifting up to curl his fingers around your throat. Closing your eyes, you appreciated the way that Dean’s lips covered yours. Soon as you were relaxed, you gave John the nod to continue to fill you. The stretch between the two of them was unlike anything you had ever felt before. You had never felt this full before and it was a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Let us know when you’re okay.”

“You can go ahead,” you confirmed for them, swallowing hard bringing more attention to the grasp that was over your throat. Whimpering, you didn’t expect this to feel like it did, but you didn’t hate it. Their movements were uneven at first. Dean faster because you were already used to him inside of you, but John was slower, trying to work you into being comfortable. By the time their tempos matched, it left you a panting mess between them. Their hands were everywhere, touching you and making you theirs. Dean’s moans were short often with his nose buried against the side of your neck and John’s were loud, raspy against the back of your neck or on your shoulder.

The sounds coming from the both of them turned you on more than you could ever imagine. Which honestly probably helped you enjoy this all the more. Lowering your hand, you curled it around John and urged his movements to be harder.

“Are you okay?” Dean whispered, drawing your attention to him by grasping at your chin. With a nod, you knew that you were breathless and you could hardly gather your words. Dean’s mouth claimed yours again, his tongue brushing against yours.

With how paper think these walls were, you hoped that no one was on the other side because none of you were being quiet. The headboard was smacking up against the wall, moans flooding the air. By now your hips were eagerly rocking back between Dean and John taking them in and out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” John slurred against the side of your face, his grasp growing tighter to your hips. With how hard he was grasping to your flesh, you wondered if it would leave a mark. Pulling your hand forward, you hooked your fingers with John’s. Nipping at your earlobe, John gave it a small tug before whispering in your ear. “You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“Please…” you panted knowing that you were still riding that line of being right on the edge of an orgasm. Realizing what it was you were looking for, Dean started to bounce his hips harder against you. It had you rocking back harder toward John so every pull and push of their cocks was not only harder, but faster inside of you.

The smacking of John’s lower abdomen against your ass grew louder until he roared out, pulling out of you and you felt the splashes of his cum covering your ass along with your lower back. Kiss after forceful kissed was pressed at your neck with Dean pulling you closer to him. He was desperate to get you a release as well as himself. Sinking your fingers into his hair, you purred out and tossed your head back when a rush flooded to your temples. Covering your lips with his, Dean’s moans became more frequent with him pulling his hips back and thrusting his hand over his length until he covered your lower abdomen with his release.

Dropping down beside you, the three of you laid out at the center of that bed trying to catch your breath. John’s arm possessively wrapped around your waist with Dean’s arm stretched out across your shoulders. For a long time, you were all quiet. Saying nothing because what else was there to say? You were all riding off the high of your orgasms.

“It’s going to be weird from here on out, isn’t it?” Dean lifted his head, his messy hair in his eyes while he looked you over.

“Only if you let it be,” John snorted, turning his face further into his pillow with a huff. “Don’t ruin a good thing Dean. Shut up.”

An involuntary laugh fell from your lips. It got you a glare from Dean, but you were impressed that John wasn’t going to let this change anything. You didn’t want anything to change. The only thing that maybe you hoped would possibly change was getting to sleep with them on occasion. Other than that? This was the perfect scenario for you and you loved it.

----

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madaqueue · 7 months ago

Text

forty-love

pairing: satoru gojo x suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: tennis player gojo, tennis player geto. smut. language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (baby, sweetheart), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), creampie, cum eating, p in v (doggy, reverse cowgirl). 18+, MDNI

word count: 5.1k

a/n: can you guys tell i watched challengers and miss tennis also yay my first stsg smut (based on their vibes from hidden inventory bc they're just so silly teehee) hope y'all enjoyyy (i also have no idea how this got so long oops)

Heat radiates off the court, the sun beaming down against your skin. The air is dry, tense, the only sound between the chirping cicadas is the bright green tennis ball being thrown against the ground.

Once.

Twice.

Gojo readies his racquet, tossing the ball into the air as his eyes meet the glaring sun. In one swipe the crack of his serve electrifies the stadium. The opposing team swings but doesn’t even come in contact with his hit, the ball rattling the fence behind them as applause breaks out.

“And with that, Gojo and Geto have won the men’s doubles!” the announcer’s voice booms through the arena.

The white-haired boy tosses his racquet aside as he charges his teammate, gripping him in a hug as they tumble across the court. Even from the stands their grins are palpable, the shared ecstasy of victory radiating off their bodies.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

“Y’know,” Gojo starts through a mouthful of orange slices, “that backhand you hit during the second set was crazy.”

“Satoru,” Geto chuckles, “you know it’s rude to talk with food in your mouth.” Reaching up a hand, he wipes away the juice that had begun trickling down the other boy’s chin with his thumb. “But thank you. That’s what practice gets you.”

“I practice!” Gojo retorts, continuing to chew the flesh of the fruit.

“When, between all the beer and girls?” Suguru takes a long sip of his Gatorade, his dark eyes never wavering from the bright cerulean of his friend’s.

“S’not my fault I know how to balance work and play,” he teases. “Speaking of which, you’re going to the Nike party with me tonight.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Satoru, we have our final match against each other tomorrow, and I’m not planning to throw the game because you just so happen to convince me to join you in your debauchery.”

“Yes,” Gojo smirks, “because I’m gonna be there, and I refuse to go without you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Geto acquiesces, unable to refuse Satoru’s dramatic pout as he bats his eyelashes. “Fine, but you have to at least let me win a set when we play tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Satoru beams, filling his mouth with another slice of orange.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

The party is loud, neon lights glaring against the darkness of the night. Music blares as miscellaneous players chat, chasing whatever brand deal or sponsorship they think they deserve.

You’re better than that, though - after all, you already have your scholarship lined up for school next year, a full-ride to play tennis until you graduate college. The peace of that knowledge allows you to stand at the outskirts of the party, idly sipping your drink, unpressured to force a conversation with those around you.

When Gojo and Geto walk in, you swear you feel the air thicken. Recruiters flock to them, opponents run from them, but everyone who’s anyone knows that they’re here. You roll your eyes at the theatrics, turning your attention to tug at the hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” a sudden voice appears beside you as the smell of cologne hits your senses, the scent vaguely reminiscent of the ocean. Glancing up, your eyes meet the brightest blue ones you’ve ever seen. “I’m Gojo,” he introduces, extending his hand out.

Crossing your arms, you smirk. “I know who you are.”

Behind him, another man suddenly appears, his dark hair pulled back into a bun. “I’m Geto,” he waves, not willing to enter the trap of your rejection by offering his hand.

Gojo’s lips form into a sly grin as he eyes you up. “Well, we know who you are, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he tilts his head - god, he was cocky. “You won the women’s singles today, we caught the end of your game. You played well.”

Taken aback at his genuine compliment, you almost let your guard down, relaxing your shoulders. “T-thanks,” you stammer, suddenly taking in the reality of being flattered by the Satoru Gojo.

“But,” he smirks, “you should’ve won an hour before we got there - your opponent had a weak spot on her forehand volley, you should’ve exploited it.”

And there’s the overconfidence.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “Thanks,” you reply sarcastically, turning to leave, “but I don’t remember asking you to be my coach.”

“You haven't, yet.” A devilish smile is plastered on Satoru’s face, illuminated by the glowing lights around you.

“What he means to say,” Suguru interrupts, shooting a momentary glare at his friend, “is that we’d love to play with you sometime. You’re really good, and we can tell you have a lot of potential.”

Your cheeks involuntarily blush at his kindness, his honesty.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” you mumble through the grin beginning to form on your face, still gathering your things to go. The noise of the music was beginning to blur your vision, your head pounding after a full day in the sun. Your muscles hurt, and you just want to collapse into the uncomfortable mattress in your hotel room.

“Leaving already?” Gojo teases as you begin to walk away from the pair.

Geto smacks his arm before looking at you apologetically. “If you’re staying at the same hotel the competition put all the players up in, there’s a way home that goes right along the ocean, if you want us to walk with you?”

“Didn’t you guys just get here, though? Don’t you want to stay and get courted by brand deals or something?” you ask somewhat rhetorically, incredulous that they would choose to leave with you.

“Psh, like we need it,” Gojo rolls his eyes.

With that, Suguru fully shoves him, his lanky limbs nearly catching over a nearby chair before he regains his balance, a pout evident on his face as he stares at the dark-haired man. “Again, what Satoru means is that he’s already got a Nike sponsorship, and I’m on a scholarship for next year; we only came tonight because we had to make an appearance.”

The gentleness in his voice inspires trust, a certain warmth to him that invites you in. Sighing, you accept their shared offer. “Well, I guess if we’re walking the same way back anyways, you might as well join me.”

A soft grin spreads across Suguru’s features as he leads you and a falsely-dejected Satoru from the venue.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

The soft sounds of waves crashing fills your ears from where you kneel along the beach, sand scratching at your bare thighs. The two men sit across from you, Satoru’s head resting on Suguru’s shoulder, his white hair illuminated under the moonlight. Somehow your walk home had detoured when they promised to show you their favorite spot, one they had found when they competed here a few years prior: the cove where you currently rest is private, away from the noise of the party or any other remnants of society. It’s peaceful.

You clear your throat, finally breaking the silence. “You two played well today too, y’know.”

Geto lights up at your words, a new excitement brewing beneath his skin. “You watched our game?” His hands continue methodically working over Gojo’s calves which sprawled across his lap, releasing the tension he had built up from their earlier match.

“Of course I did,” you hum, your fingers absentmindedly drawing small patterns into the sand. “I wouldn’t have missed your game for the world. You two are about to qualify for the Open, and I honestly think you have a good shot at winning it.”

“Oh, we’re gonna win it,” Gojo states matter-of-factly, his gaze lazily focused on the sky above you.

You can’t help but laugh at his confidence, the sound bubbling from your throat against the stillness of the night air. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” he begins, rising from where he rested against Geto, locking eyes with you, “we’re the best.”

“You aren’t the best,” you scoff in reaction. Hearing your own words, your face suddenly flushes in embarrassment - you did not just insult the two top-ranked tennis players in the country, did you?

Satoru pulls himself onto his hands and knees, leaning forward towards you as his eyes glimmer with the excitement of a challenge. Suguru’s hand rests on his back, ready to pull him back down if he oversteps (as he often does).

“Oh yeah?” he taunts, inching closer to you. “And why is that?”

“Because what you play isn’t tennis.”

Your words seem to stun the two boys, their actions suddenly halting as they turn to you. Allowing a moment of silence to settle, your gaze falls on the waves before you, the calmness soothing your thoughts.

“Tennis is electricity, an ocean. It’s a back and forth, a give and take. All I saw out there was you taking.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with taking what I want,” Gojo smirks, “especially when what I want is to win.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you follow, “but it’s not tennis.” Standing, you brush the sand from your skirt. “I hope to see you two actually play tennis tomorrow.”

Before you can leave, Geto’s voice breaks the silence.

“Come by our room tonight,” he purrs, gathering his confidence. “I’ll show you I know more than just how to take.”

A glimmer of mischief twinkles in your eyes as you turn to him, a sly smile growing across your face. “I’ll think about it.”

Turning, you walk across the beach back to the hotel.

In your absence, Gojo playfully smacks Geto’s arm. “Holy shit dude, that was smooth!” he laughs. “You think it’s actually gonna work for us?”

“‘Us’?” Geto smirks. “I was the one putting in all the work back there, you were just being an overconfident ass.”

“Psh, girls love my confidence,” he chuckles, a sound like raindrops falling on the calm waters of the sea. His blue eyes nearly glow under the moonlight, a brightness to them that’s never lost on Suguru. “Better head back and get ready for our date, though.”

“You keep saying ‘our,’” Geto teases, a newfound warmth beginning to cover his body in contrast to the cool night air as the two stand to leave.

“You know it’s always you and me, buddy,” Satoru smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders as they plod through the sand. “You and me.”

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

A knock alerts Gojo and Geto, who had been laying across the floor of their shared hotel room, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Satoru reaches the door first, swinging it open and welcoming you inside. Suguru, meanwhile, remains seated on the floor, his eyes covering your body as you saunter towards him: the curve of your thighs perfectly captured under your tennis skirt, the dip of your shoulders under your tank top, somehow a perfect balance of strength and poise.

Crossing your legs, you seat yourself across from Geto; Gojo is quick to join, holding out a beer to you. Shortly after he cracks open his own, he tosses another to Suguru as he spreads his legs out into the space between the three of you.

Tension builds in the air, an unspoken question forming in the back of your minds: why are you really here?

Even you weren’t certain - sure, Geto and Gojo were hot, and talented, obviously, a true force to be reckoned with in the tennis world. But more than that, they had a certain reputation, a gravitational pull to them. Anyone who got close to the pair was launched into fame, their very presence enough to garner wealth by proxy. And, yes, you had your scholarship, but was it a sin to want more? You had dreamt of going pro since you were old enough to hold a racquet, and now, with the two of them seated before you, it finally feels within your grasp.

Satoru clears his throat. “So, did your boyfriend happen to catch your game today?” he raises his eyebrows.

Gojo was many things, but subtle was not one of them.

“No,” you state, your gaze maneuvering between the two. They shift uncomfortably, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

They both visibly relax, grinning in unison.

“Good,” Suguru hums, almost inaudible above the hum of the air conditioning.

“What about you, did your girlfriends watch you play?” you smirk, bouncing the question back to them.

Geto is quick to shake his head, “Don’t have one,” he smiles easily.

Leaning forward, Gojo ruffles his friend’s hair, which now hangs loosely over his shoulders, released from the bun that held it earlier in the night. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he purrs, tilting his head towards Geto, “his lips haven’t touched a woman’s in a while.”

Suguru roughly shoves him off, a sigh leaving his lips. Turning his attention to you, he forces his frown into a weak smile. “I promise, I’ve kissed plenty of girls.” Tilting your head slightly in jest, his words finally register in his mind. “N-not like that, just, I-”

“I think she gets it,” Gojo jokes, pulling himself from where he landed on the ground to sit behind his friend.

Another momentary silence falls, the energy between you crackling in expectation. Satoru’s hands find their way back to Suguru’s body, idly massaging his shoulders as the pair fixes their gaze on you. Behind Gojo’s irises lies burning hot flames; behind Geto’s, well-controlled embers.

“So,” you eye the boys seated across from you, a subtle intimacy underlying their actions, the gentle motion of Satoru’s fingers into Suguru’s skin, “have you two ever kissed?”

“No.” Geto answers immediately.

“Well…” Gojo trails off with a smirk, “remember that one time?”

Suguru shoots him a glare that could kill, eyes cold despite the fire behind them. “That doesn’t count.”

Leaning forward, a grin tugs at the corners of your lips as the rough carpet digs into your skin. “Oh, do tell?”

Gojo mimics your motions, pulling himself onto his knees in front of you. “Around the time we met, Suguru here, the sweetheart he is, got himself a girlfriend but hadn’t had his first kiss yet. So I, being the generous friend that I am, helped teach him how to do it.”

Glancing at Geto, a redness spreads across his cheeks, one that could be designated as rage or embarrassment, either an appropriate reaction to the information that had been unexpectedly revealed. “That was years ago, Satoru,” he grumbles.

“So you’re saying you’re a pro now, Geto?” you purr, egging him on as you place your palms in front of you, the air between you two sparking. “Why don’t you show me what Gojo taught you then, hm?”

A hint of panic lies behind his gaze as he meets yours, taking in a steadying breath. Despite the hesitation in his mind, his body knows he wants this, wants you. Without a word, he lifts a hand to your face, cupping your jaw against his rough fingertips. Pulling you in, his lips meet yours.

He’s soft, calculated, as he kisses you. Parting his lips he gently swipes his tongue along your lower lip, bringing you closer and closer. He’s patient and reserved, just like how he plays.

Separating for a moment, a small smile appears on his face before you turn your attention to the man next to you.

“Alright, Gojo, let’s learn from the coach,” you hum.

Immediately he crawls over to you, a complete and utter lack of hesitation as his hands find you, one moving to the nape of your neck and the other to your hip.

As his lips crash into yours, he’s demanding, ravenous. His tongue roughly works its way into your mouth, exploring it like his first taste of water after hours on the court, like he’ll never get to kiss you again.

Pulling away, you smile, eyes covering the two men seated in front of you. “Okay, c’mere,” you grin as you seat yourself at the end of their pushed-together twin beds.

“W-which one of us?” Geto asks.

As the words hit the air, Gojo is already moving, plopping himself down at the edge of the bed as he looks at you expectantly. Blinking at his friend’s sudden motion, Suguru follows quickly, seating himself on your other side.

Your eyes meet Gojo’s, a hint of mischief behind the cerulean, before turning to Geto, hesitation and nervousness spread across his features. Might as well make this interesting.

Shifting your body into Suguru’s, his eyelashes flutter closed as your lips meet his again. Grabbing at his shirt, you tug him closer.

“Loosen up,” you murmur into his mouth as your hands travel over his body.

Behind you, Gojo’s envy gets the best of him as he reaches around your torso. Placing open-mouth kisses along your neck, his palms travel over your chest, groping at your tits through your bra. He melds into you from behind as a moan escapes your throat, the warmth of their bodies blanketing you. Geto begins moving his arms, grabbing at any inch of your skin he can find. Before you realize it, your clothes are discarded, the boys’ shirts lost to the depths of the dirtied hotel room. Skilled fingers trace the curves of your body, tingles of electricity left in their wake.

Gojo chuckles behind you as his hands find their way between your legs, fingertips tracing your clothed cunt, sending a shiver up your spine.

“A bit eager, are we?” he teases, pulling your soaked panties to the side.

Any insults you began to form die in your throat as his long fingers enter you, a choked, “fuck” the only thing you can get out in response. His fingertips prod at your gummy walls, finding the spot that has you rocking your hips forward, grinding yourself onto him. Your moans echo into Geto’s mouth as you chase your release.

Right as you feel the heat inside you threatening to overflow, Gojo’s motions still.

“W-why’d you stop?” you practically whine, finally breaking away from your kiss with Suguru to face him over your shoulder.

That annoying smirk is plastered on Satoru’s face as he leans forward, his hot breath tickling your skin as his lips brush against yours.

“That was me giving, now it’s my turn to take.”

Gojo’s arms reach around you to push Geto back onto the bed, your body still trapped between the two as you catch yourself on all fours. The dark-haired man looks up at you, stunned into silence as his hands rest tentatively on your hips. You gasp as Satoru suddenly pulls your panties down, the cool air hitting your heat.

Your gaze lands on Suguru’s, your eyes wide before you feel the pressure of Gojo’s cock pressing against your entrance from behind you. Your jaw slacks as your eyes roll back, the stretch of him overcoming your senses as he slides in inch by inch. Geto takes the opportunity to latch his lips to yours, imprecisely sucking against your soft skin.

Satoru’s moans fill the space as he bottoms out inside you. “Fuuuuuck, y’feel so good,” he groans, his pelvis resting against your ass.

As he pulls his hips away, his tip barely kissing your folds, his rough fingertips are suddenly felt against your clit. He imprecisely circles the sensitive bud as he thrusts back into you. In unison, you and Geto moan into each other through the kiss.

“Keep strokin’ me, jus’ like that, mmm,” Suguru hums from beneath you.

Fighting against the haze of your ecstasy as Gojo continues rolling his hips into you, you manage to focus your gaze downward, finding Satoru’s free hand wrapped around Suguru’s cock, precum smearing as he pumps his length.

“S’not - ah - me,” you manage to get out through Gojo’s increasingly rough thrusts.

Geto’s eyelids flit open, landing on Gojo’s over your shoulder. As soon as the two make eye contact, Satoru squeezes Suguru slightly harder as his thumb circles his tip, forcing his eyes back into his skull as his hips thrust desperately into his friend’s first.

Satoru chuckles from behind you as he begins to kiss up your spine, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His teeth nibble at your skin, the slight pain making your back arch further, letting his cock reach impossibly deeper inside you. From the new angle, he hits the same spot he proudly found moments prior.

“R-right there, Gojo, fuck,” you moan, your hands tightly gripping the sheets to stabilize yourself against the weight of his body on top of you.

From beneath you, Geto’s cock twitches in Gojo’s palm as he weakly breathes, “Call him Satoru.”

“Mhm, y’know me so well, Sugu,” Satoru purrs.

His thrusts are unrelenting, imprecise, needy. He’s working purely off instinct and lust as he pumps in and out of you.

“Satoru,” you whine, his motions pulling you closer and closer to your release.

“Y’gonna cum?” he breathes into your neck.

You would roll your eyes at the fact that you can practically hear his smirk through his words before a particularly deep thrust pulls a choked “a-ah mmm” from you.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Gojo chuckles. “Me too, baby, me too.”

His tip repeatedly prods against your sweet spot as his thumb picks up its pace against your clit.

“Hey, Suguru,” the man thrusting into you purrs, “tell me, does she look pretty when she creams all over my cock?”

Geto’s eyes flicker open, his gaze hazy as Satoru continues palming his shaft. Suddenly, your vision goes blind in ecstasy. Broken cries escape your throat as Gojo’s cock twitches inside you, painting your insides white, his hips never stilling as he fucks you through your high.

As you come down, Suguru’s words pull you back to reality. “Yeah,” he breathes from below you, “she looks real pretty.”

“Aww,” Gojo fake whines, “well that’s no fair.” He pulls out, his cum threatening to trickle down your thighs as he removes himself from Geto’s cock to grab the man’s hand. Pulling him up, he spins you around so Suguru is seated with you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. “Now I wanna see her cum while you fuck her, Suguru,” Gojo hums.

With that, the white-haired man kneels before you, one palm resting on your thigh as his fingers spread open your folds. He slowly rubs the mix of your shared essence over your puffy cunt, his eyes full of awe.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Turning his attention back to you and Geto, he smirks. “You’re gonna love fucking it, Sugu.”

Finally taking his initiative, Geto lifts you up slightly, just enough to allow his hardened cock to press against your needy hole. Slowly sinking down on his length, another shaky groan vibrates your throat as he stretches you, a searing pleasure against your walls as he fucks Gojo’s cum back into you.

“S-shit,” Suguru mutters, “feels s’good.”

His hands return to your hips, guiding you forward as you grind against him. He’s slow, methodical, in the way he fucks you, a certain precision to his motions.

“Just like that,” Gojo hums from beneath you, “y’look so perfect.”

Your mind is too clouded to decipher if he’s speaking to you or Geto, and truthfully, you don’t care. You continue rocking yourself forward, Suguru’s cock stretching you so sinfully. He may not have Satoru’s length, but fuck, is he thick. Soft moans escape your lips as you lean your head back into Geto, who takes over where Gojo left off, pressing wet kisses over the skin of your neck. Suddenly, Satoru latches his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue circling your clit as he moans into you.

“Y’taste s’good,” he groans, continuing to lap at your folds, the mixture of his seed and your slick coating his chin.

One of your hands instinctively reaches to grab his hair, pulling him into you as the other holds onto the back of Geto’s neck, tethering you to reality.

Feeling the tug at his scalp, Satoru smirks into your skin. “That feel good, sweetheart?”

The moment you open your mouth to respond he sucks at your clit with a new ferocity, cutting your reply short as it transforms into a garbled moan of “y-ahh mhm.” Gojo chuckles beneath you at your incoherent response, his breath hot. So fucking smug.

Suguru lets out a breathy chuckle from behind you as he gradually picks up his pace. “You’re just - hah - flattering yourself, ‘Toru.”

Gojo smiles devilishly against you as he replaces his mouth with his thumb, rubbing unfocused circles into your bud. Lowering himself, he licks a languid stripe up the base of Geto’s cock from where he enters you before gently placing the man’s heavy balls into his mouth, sucking lightly.

Suguru’s motions stutter as he moans, his teeth biting into your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself from the buzz of pleasure that suddenly overcomes him at the new sensation.

“Seems like the flattery was warranted,” Gojo hums before his lips return to your clit, sucking softly as tension builds within your chest.

You can’t even tell where you begin and they end, the searing kisses along your neck, the sounds of your shared moans filling the space. Suguru’s hips grow increasingly desperate yet restrained, small thrusts into your cunt as Satoru’s tongue continues flicking over your core. Geto’s body remains stiff beneath you as you roll your hips against him.

“Let y’self go, Suguru,” you slur, your mind too fuzzy to process the words, only sensing the tension he holds.

Geto’s palms hesitantly grow greedier as he grips at your skin, allowing himself to chase his own high. His motions get rougher, thrusts deeper; he’s always felt that carnal part inside of him, the one labeled desire, yet he would never give into it. But something in your words, the heat of your body, breaks him free of his self-imposed cage.

His grip on your hips tightens as he holds you in place, fucking himself up into you. He’s grunting in effort, beads of sweat forming across his forehead as his fingertips dig into your skin. His motions are sloppy and rough, but so fucking good. Finally, he’s feeling it.

“Mm, I - ah - m’close,” you whine, his messy thrusts hitting every spot inside you so perfectly. The two men hum into you in acknowledgement, continuing their fervent motions.

Wet sounds of pleasure echo through the room as you get closer, until finally, the cord inside you snaps. Broken moans of their names leave your throat as you come undone, your walls fluttering around Suguru’s cock enough to send him over the edge with you. Throwing his head back, he allows himself to feel it all, take everything you’re willing to give him - as wave after wave crashes over him, his body shaking, he finally feels free.

“So, so pretty,” Gojo hums as his gaze darts between you and Suguru, watching you two be overtaken in euphoria, together.

Satoru’s tongue never slows as he messily laps at your essence, still kneeling between your legs. Your body feels electric as you come down from the height of your ecstasy, every nerve vibrating in pleasure. The mix of Gojo and Geto’s cum feels warm inside you as it slowly drips from your cunt. With a sly grin, Satoru collects the sticky mixture on his tongue, his eyes fluttering closed as he swallows. Without a word he rises from his knees, leaning over you.

Is he about to kiss you?

No, he can’t be.

He presses his chest into you as his palms cup Suguru’s jaw, the dark-haired man’s gaze unfocused as he watches his friend’s motions. Gojo’s blue eyes are nearly black from his blown pupils, Geto’s kiss-bruised lips parted as he pants. Silently, Satoru presses his lips to Suguru’s. Their tongues swirl against each other’s, their saliva mixing as the warmth of their bodies covers you, the heat of the kiss threatening to drown you as you’re pulled under, into the current of the moment.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Back.

Forth.

Back.

Forth.

The crack of the tennis ball echoes through the stadium, each hit adding to the culminating tension hanging in the air. Each stroke was like thunder, each step like lightning as Satoru and Suguru rally.

Gojo hits a forehand down the line, forcing Geto into his weak spot - one only he would know after years of playing together, one Suguru would never dare to exploit of his teammate. Geto falters, missing the shot; a soft gasp erupts through the crowd.

“Forty-love,” the announcer booms, “game point for Gojo.”

Satoru takes his place to serve, absentmindedly bouncing the ball against the court as he readies himself.

Loosen up, Suguru.

Tossing it into the air, he hits a perfectly placed shot, the spin forcing Geto off his feet unexpectedly as he chases the path. It wasn’t what he calculated - yet, you could see it in Gojo’s eyes; you could feel it.

Geto hits an off-balance return, struggling to regain his composure as he returns to center court. For a moment, you lock eyes with him.

Let yourself go, Suguru.

Satoru takes the opportunity, running up to pounce on the arcing, slow shot Suguru returned. He leaps into the air, his racquet held high.

But Geto senses something is off.

The slight smirk at the corner of Gojo’s lips, the glimmer behind his eyes.

If Geto were a betting man, he would run himself back to the opposite corner of the court, preparing to take Satoru’s signature high-speed smash that would win him the game. Yet, for a moment, Suguru lets himself feel it - that’s not the shot his opponent is about to take.

Instead, he rushes the net. The moment his feet plant onto the ground, Gojo’s racquet makes contact with the ball, the slicing motion sending it twisting the exact opposite direction Geto would have predicted as it spins through the air. Landing it exactly where Suguru stands.

Geto volleys, not allowing the ball to make contact with the ground as he sends it back to Satoru’s side behind him. Gojo knows he can’t get to the ball fast enough, and he doesn’t even try; instead, he stands in place where he landed from his last play.

A wide grin forms on Satoru’s face, one of admiration, pride. “Didn’t expect you to get that one, Suguru,” he gleams.

Turning around, Geto’s back faces his opponent as he returns to his place, ready for the next serve. “Your emotions gave you away, Satoru,” he purrs through a smirk.

As Gojo prepares himself to serve again, a new electricity crackles between them. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you watch them play, sweat glistening off their backs as they pour themselves into the game: the back and forth, the give and the take.

This is tennis.

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idkdudethisisntpermanent · 22 days ago

Text

Over the Limit - pt.v

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v

summary: An unlikely group forms—did someone say road trip?

word count: 10.8k

a/n: It's officially been a month since I've started posting Over the Limit on Tumblr! Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of support💚

————

How are weekends meant to look for the average 20-year old? Finally sleeping in after having a week of 8am classes? Scrambling to your job that funds all your stupid vices? Maybe it was stressing over picking the sluttiest outfit you can wear since you had a frat party and needed all eyes on you?

That realm of life seemed impossible for you. When you’re from Brimstone you don’t have the privilege of worrying about those things—no, instead on this fine Saturday morning you’re groggily rubbing your eyes open at 6am, while Hunter is panicking about the land lord who’s five seconds away from knocking the door down.

“Dude just answer,” you say annoyed, you could barely sleep last night and the last thing you needed was this antsy land lord playing drums on the door.

“I fucking can’t!” Hunter whisper yells, crouching down to your position on the floor where you had slept the night prior. “He’s gonna hand me an eviction notice when he sees me!”

And that is how your weekend begins when you’re from Brimstone.

After ignoring the loud knocks for some time, the land lord left grumbling angry curses at Hunter.

“So you’re backed up on two months of rent?” you ask, learning the information from the man that was once outside the door.

The older guy sighs with a nod, “Yeah, you know how it is. I haven’t been getting much races lately. I should’ve put a wager on you when you raced that Blond douche,” he says with a hollow chuckle.

You frown. You know exactly how it is. It’s not rare for you to walk into the garage and hear the whispers of unhappy Sinners about their pay cut.

Race clubs had their own economy. The quickest way for racers to make money was by paying an entry fee to compete, with the total pool going to the winning racer or crew. Crews like the Sinners also occasionally hosted parties, collecting entry fees to boost their earnings.

But gambling was the bread and butter—side bets, wagers, and deals made on the outcome of races. Anyone could place a bet, whether it was on their own crew or against them, but most of the money came from outsiders: third-party crews or devoted townspeople.

And then there was the fastest, most dangerous way to make cash.

“Didn’t you have a sponsor?” you asked.

Hunter's jaw tightened, and a shadow of bitterness crossed his face. "Yeah, I did. But things went south," he muttered. "Sponsors aren't what they used to be. They're too caught up in politics, or they want a cut so big it's not worth the payout."

You nodded, understanding that finding and keeping a sponsor was a double-edged sword. While they offered financial stability and access to better equipment, they came with strings attached—controlling interests, unwanted appearances, and expectations that sometimes choked a racer's freedom. You had to be in at least the top 5% of racer's to even be considered by a sponsor, and Hunter was just that good. But that lifestyle was clearly not worth it for him. You don't blame him, you've heard the stories of sponsor's having crazy asks for their prodigies.

"You'd be a sponsor's dream you know?" he suddenly says.

You quirk a brow up, not knowing how so.

"You're a great racer, you get along well with the rich, you're submissive—

"I am not submissive!"

————

After some more banter with Hunter you finally proceed with your morning and freshen up. As you're standing in front of the bathroom sink, wondering how you're going to brush your teeth, you noticed two toothbrushes in the holder.

Hunter lived alone.

Not knowing the origins of the second toothbrush and not willing to risk it, you opted to brush your teeth using your finger, and splashed some cool water on your face, trying to chase away the exhaustion and pull yourself together.

As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, a chill slid down your spine. Shock had a strange way of altering a person’s expression—jaw locked, eyes hardened, gaze steely. The revelations of last night were etched into your face like battle scars.

You were scared. Everything you heard last night was real—things that will directly impact you and your loved ones. It wasn’t just some joke, it was real life. And about your father...ever since the revelations of last night, it's been weighing on you—if you should tell your mom about the foul play in her husband’s death. How do you even tell someone that?

Your hands tightened around the edge of the sink, water dripping off your face and pooling on the counter. You thought about how it didn't shock you more to learn that your father’s death was no accident. Did that make you a terrible daughter? You thought of Anton, always armed, always prepared for whatever might come his way. Of course this life was brutal. Your father had been a founder, a leader—how could it not be dangerous?

But who wanted your father dead?

That was rather the question that gnawed at you, digging deeper with every passing second. Who could have wanted him gone, and why? Your fingers clenched the porcelain sink harder, the tremor in your hands matched by the anger coursing through you. And then the tears came undone, streaking down your face and mingling with the water already on the counter.

“Y/n?” Hunter’s voice cut through the fog of your mind, followed by a knock on the bathroom door. “Hey, you okay in there?”

You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to steady yourself. Now was not the time nor place for breaking down.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called out, forcing your voice into something resembling normalcy. You wiped your face with the back of your hand and swung the door open. Hunter stood there, a towel draped over his arm, eyes shadowed with worry.

He frowned as you brushed past him, taking the towel and pressing it to your damp face. The silence hung between you.

Hunter’s gaze followed you as you moved, his eyes full of questions. “Y/n, look” he started his voice soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter you. "I don't know what's going on with you. But I know it's a lot. I already know that Jenna is a Viper and now this Ghost Smoke shit. You can talk to me about whatever you're dealing with if you want."

You paused, towel clenched in your fists, staring blankly at the wall. The weight of everything threatened to crush you, but you felt the warmth of Hunter’s hand as he reached out, resting it on your shoulder. That simple touch was enough to crack the fragile shield you’d tried so hard to maintain.

Tears welled up again, this time falling freely. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, each one tugging at the raw wound inside you. “Hunter, I don't know what to do.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. The warmth and steadiness of him anchored you as you broke down, sobs shaking your frame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. You’re not alone.”

The floodgates opened, and you told him everything—how you met Jenna, her request to find dirt on Percy, your dad supposedly wanting out of the Sinners, and the revelation that Bullet and Apex weren’t just names, but legacies tied to betrayal and death. Hunter listened in silence, holding you tight, his own expression darkening with every word.

In that moment, the fear and uncertainty didn’t vanish, but they felt a little more bearable. You had someone who knew, someone who would stand by you.

————

You and Hunter sat side by side on his worn couch, the late morning sun casting a soft light through the window. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable now; it was a shared reprieve after an outpouring of truths.

Hunter leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the couch, the other in the bag of chips he pulled out for you two. Your breakfast. He let out a breath, shaking his head slowly. “So, Jenna came to you with this whole thing about Percy and the Ghost Smoke operation, and you just… jumped in? Talk about submissive.”

You punch his shoulder lightly, and managed a small smile, the relief of finally sharing the truth giving your chest room to breathe. “I didn’t think it would spiral like this,” you admitted. “It was supposed to be simple—find out what Percy was up to, help Jenna. But now, with what we know...”

Hunter’s eyes darkened as he nodded. “It’s more than just racing politics. It’s deeper, more dangerous.” He glanced at you, concern still etched into his features. “And you’re sure Anton has no idea you’re involved?”

The question hung heavy between you, but you felt more grounded now. You nodded. “For now, he doesn’t. But I don’t know how long that will last.”

A sudden thought crossed your mind, and you straightened. “Do you think Mikey knows Jenna is with the Vipers?”

Hunter shrugged, "She give you any reason to think that?"

"She was just... observant man. The other day—when we went on the drive. She remembered the Aston from the footage she saw of me and Jenna. Said something about how it was the car I rolled in with 'my girl' in."

Hunter’s smirk returned, and he nudged you again, playfulness edging out the tension. “Maybe she’s paying close attention because she’s totally into you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I’m being serious, Hunter.”

“Alright, alright,” Hunter said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But on that note... we need to talk about the Aston.”

You frowned, a hint of confusion crossing your face. “What about it?”

Hunter leaned forward, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by seriousness. “Think about it. We crashed that meeting last night and got caught snooping around. The only lead they have on us is the car. They know we escaped in the AM. If they’re looking for anything, it’ll be that.”

Fuck he was right.

"I say we demolish it. Scrap it for parts or something."

"—no!" you exclaim interrupting his thought. "I'll find a place to have it stashed. Don't worry."

The older guy squinted his eyes in confusion. You were a mechanic, you never got attached to your cars. You knew better than anyone that cars come and go. Yet you couldn't let go of this one.

————

Being a mechanic had its perks, and one of the best was the network of wealthy clientele you’d built over the years. If someone had enough money to buy a custom-built, fully modded car from you, chances were they also had plenty of land—land that could discreetly store a car like yours. Now, you just had to hope their generosity matched the size of their bank accounts.

You stepped out onto the balcony as you scroll through your phone, siffling through your contacts.

"Hmm, maybe John might help me out," you mummer to yourself pressing call.

John was one of your more calm clients. He was the proud new owner of a 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1. You’d delivered the car just over a month ago—the same night Anton nearly gave you a heart attack by pulling a mock robbery, complete with a gun pointed at you. You shook the memory from your mind, focusing instead on the call as it began to ring.

You first engaged with some small talk before you asked him for help. For all you knew he was a sponsor involved in some shady shit, maybe even involved in Ghost Smoke. Is this what paranoia is?

"I hope there's no complaints about the Mustang," you laugh lightly.

"No complaints Y/n."

"Amazing...so I actually need a favour," you said, leaning on the balcony railing. “I’ve got a car I need to tuck away for a while. Somewhere discreet. Think you could help?”

There was a brief pause, then a hum of consideration. “Hmm, yeah, I’ve got a lake house not too far from here. You can stash it there. No one will bother it.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll swing by later today.”

“Anytime kid,” he said before the call ended.

You exhaled, relief washing over you. One less problem to worry about—for now.

————

After letting Hunter know you’d secured a spot for the car, you set out for the address John had texted. The drive felt almost reflective, the Aston Martin humming beneath you like it understood the significance of this moment. Arriving at the secluded lake house, you carefully parked the car— the car that had genuinely started it all for you.

The Uber ride back to Hunter's was quiet, except for occasional small talk with the driver and faint chatter of the radio. You leaned your head against the window, letting the scenery blur as you reflected on everything that had unfolded.

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. Hunter’s name flashed on the screen. You swiped to answer.

"Hey," you greeted.

"Hey, where are you?" Hunter's voice was calm but direct.

"In an Uber. On my way back to yours."

"Cool, change of plans. Head to Brenda’s Diner instead."

You frowned, the name clicking in your memory. "Brenda’s? That’s in the next city, like forty minutes away. Why there?"

"Just meet me. We’ll grab breakfast, Hunter said nonchalantly. "I’m almost there already,"

Your confusion deepened, your brows furrowing. "Why are you suddenly all the way out there? And why can’t we eat closer to your place?"

He sighed, "Jenna texted me, okay? She asked me to come here, so I’m here. So just come.”

You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what? Jenna texted you? Why does she even have your number?"

Hunter chuckled lightly, clearly amused by your confusion. "Relax, Y/n. Just come here. Who knows, maybe she’ll butter your biscuits or drizzle your pancakes."

"Excuse me—what?" you sputtered, but before you could say more, he hung up, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief.

You slumped back in the seat, your mind racing. What in the actual hell is going on?

————

“Thank you sir," you say as you get out the Uber. You squint your eyes as you take in the red and yellow sign that said that read Brenda’s. Even the sun shined brighter in this town, from what you knew the town you were currently in—Countsville, wasn’t tainted with race crews and class differences. It was an average suburban town.

You couldn’t help but wonder why Jenna had called you here of all places. Did she have some secret life here? A hidden family? The absurd thought made you chuckle under your breath as you shook your head.

Pulling out your phone, you caught your reflection in the camera and quickly fixed your hair. A pang of nervousness hit you out of nowhere, making you hesitate. Why were you even nervous? Shaking off the feeling, you squared your shoulders and stepped inside.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n!” Hunter’s voice boomed, his arm shooting into the air to wave you over like you were lost in a crowd.

Your eyes darted to him, already settled comfortably in a booth, and then to the two women seated across from him—Jenna and the girl from last night. The one whose name you still didn’t know.

Your steps slowed as their hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt. Without a word, you slid into the booth next to Hunter.

Hunter leaned back in the booth, a smirk playing on his lips. “Took you long enough. Thought maybe you needed a treasure map to find this place.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. Your gaze darted to Jenna, sitting across from you with her arms crossed and her focus firmly planted on the coffee in front of her. She didn’t even glance up when you sat down.

The girl sitting next to her, however—was the complete opposite. She was all smiles, her gaze bouncing between you and Jenna like she was waiting for something to happen between you both.

“Uh, hey. I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” you said, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m Aliyah,” she replied, her grin widening as she reached across the table, hand outstretched.

You took it, chuckling softly. “Nice to meet you.”

Aliyah’s smile turned teasing. “I’m Jenna’s sister.”

“Sister?!” Your jaw dropped as you let go of her hand, the word practically punching its way out of your mouth. Was she a Viper too? Did you get caught up in a family of snakes?

“Well it's nice to meet you,” you muttered, your attention flickering to Jenna. “So, uh, what’s this all about?” You doubt she invited you here to introduce you to her family.

Nothing. Not a word. Jenna’s silence was loud, deafening even, as she swirled her spoon in her coffee like you weren’t even there.

Hunter glanced between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. “Oh, this is fun. Should I just grab some popcorn, or…?”

You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

“Not trying,” he quipped, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Anyway, why don’t you ask Jenna why we’re here? She’s the mastermind behind this little breakfast summit.”

You turned back to her, trying again. “Jenna?”

Still nothing.

“Seriously?” you asked, the irritation creeping into your voice. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

Jenna finally looked up, her expression cool and indifferent. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you talking to me? Hard to tell when you’ve been acting like I don’t exist for the past few days.”

Hunter snorted, barely holding back a laugh. “She got you there.”

You sighed, sinking back into your seat. This wasn’t what you had anticipated. Sure, you figured she’d be upset about you ghosting her, but you thought you’d moved past that. Last night at the meeting, it felt like you’d reached some kind of unspoken understanding. Yet here she was now, stone-faced and silent, her cold shoulder speaking louder than words.

“Anyways, can we get some actual food in here before someone combusts?”

Aliyah snickered, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Sure, Hunter. Anything to save the day.” She turned her attention to you. “You have to try these pancakes, Brenda’s makes the best pancakes in town!"

Jenna muttered under her breath, just loud enough for you to catch. “Probably too busy to eat pancakes these days.”

Your jaw clenched, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This wasn’t the time or place to start something. Instead, you turned to Aliyah, doing your best to ignore Jenna’s jab. “Yeah, pancakes sound good. Let’s do it.”

Hunter raised his hand to flag down a server. “Pancakes for the table, and maybe a side of good vibes, yeah?”

————

For the past 20 minutes, the table had been quietly enjoying their pancakes, the clinking of cutlery filling the gaps in conversation. You caught Hunter sneaking a glance at your plate, his eyes drifting to the fluffy stack of pastries and then to the glass jar of maple syrup conveniently sitting right next to Jenna. With a sly grin, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, clearly not letting his earlier joke die.

Aliyah finally broke the silence, her voice cutting through the calm. "Alright, since Jenna's committed to this whole silent act, I guess I’ll get us started. Last night was absolutely insane, and I think we seriously need to talk about everything we learned."

You frowned, glancing between the two girls across from you. “Wait, we? What do you mean, we?”

Aliyah looked at you like you’d asked a ridiculous question. “I mean we, as in all of us sitting here. Jenna, Hunter, me—you. We’re in this now.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your brow furrowing deeper. “But… Jenna got her dirt on Percy, didn’t she? That’s what all this was supposed to be about. What more does she have to do with any of this?”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and for the first time since you’d arrived, Jenna’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. Her expression was calm but laced with a distinct edge—and some hurt?

“Are you serious?” she said, setting her coffee cup down with a soft clink. “You think I can just walk away now?”

“Why not?” you shot back. “You wanted proof of what Percy was doing, and you got it. That’s what you asked me to help you with. This whole Ghost Smoke thing—it’s not your problem.”

Jenna’s jaw tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, it looked like she was biting back a retort. Aliyah, however, was quick to jump in.

“It’s everyone’s problem,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. “Ghost Smoke isn’t just some petty racing drama, Y/n. It’s destroying lives, and if the Vipers start pushing it harder, it’s going to get worse. Way worse.”

Hunter nodded, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something more serious. “Aliyah’s right. Last night wasn’t just some casual run-in with Percy’s people. That dealer wasn’t joking around, and you saw how he talked about the ‘boss.’ They’re planning something big.”

You leaned back in your seat, the weight of their words sinking in. But still, a part of you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that none of this should fall on Jenna—or you, for that matter.

"I don't want you two getting involved," you said, your tone flat and detached, though the tightness in your chest betrayed the storm underneath. You stared at your plate, pushing a piece of pancake around with your fork, avoiding their eyes.

Jenna scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “Are you serious right now? You don’t want us involved? After everything last night?”

Your gaze remained fixed downward, even as her frustration bristled against you. “It’s not your fight,” you muttered.

“Not my—?” Jenna’s voice rose, and you finally looked up to see her glaring at you, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “You don’t get to make that call! You think you can just decide when you want me around and when you don't? Newsflash—you’re already in deep, and so are we. There’s no undoing it now.”

You stayed silent, your jaw clenching as you tried to tamp down the surge of emotions threatening to surface. She wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.

You couldn’t drag them further into a world where people are pushing drugs—where people are capable of taking lives, just like they had taken your father’s and uncle's.

“It doesn’t matter why,” you said finally, your voice still low. “I just… I don’t want you involved. Either of you. That’s all.”

Jenna let out an incredulous laugh, throwing her hands in the air. “Unbelievable," she muttered, pushing back her chair abruptly and standing up, her frustration was palpable as she strode toward the diner’s exit.

You watched her leave, a pang of guilt twisting in your stomach. Hunter sighed beside you, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s not wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “You can’t do this alone. They were there last night. As much as you don't it to be true, they're now part of it.”

You didn’t respond, the weight of your own thoughts pressing down too heavily. Even though your intentions were to protect them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were only making things worse.

————

"If you grip the wheel any harder, it’s going to fuse with your hands," Aliyah quipped, casting a cautious glance at her sister.

Jenna shot her a sharp side-eye but said nothing, her focus fixed on the road ahead as they made their way home.

When it became clear that Jenna wasn’t going to return to the table, Aliyah had reluctantly followed her, leaving behind the unfinished business that had brought them all together in the first place.

“I don’t get it,” Aliyah said, breaking the silence. “I thought you two were fine last night. What’s with the sudden mood swing?”

Jenna’s grip on the wheel tightened even further, her knuckles white against the leather. She thought she had been fine too. Last night, things had felt different—maybe not perfect, but at least... manageable. But seeing you again today had stirred something raw and unexpected inside her.

It's not your problem, you said.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice strained, as though admitting it hurt.

"Well I don't think your girl—sorry Y/n had any bad intentions. And if you really want to get involved in this Brimstone drama, then you have to make up with her eventually" Aliyah said, her tone gentler now.

Jenna let out a slow breath through her nose, her eyes never leaving the road. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured. “She ghosted me, Aliyah. And now she’s acting like she has to carry everything on her own, like I can’t handle myself. She wanted me around at first and now she decides I'm out? Oh I'm sorry I wasn't aware I was some fucking doll.”

“Or,” Aliyah countered, “maybe she’s terrified of something way bigger than you realize and doesn’t want to drag you—us into it.”

That struck a nerve. Jenna’s fingers twitched against the steering wheel as she mulled over her sister’s words. Was it fear? Was that why you were pushing her away? Her frustration softened slightly, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen.

“Even if that’s true, she’s going about it the wrong way,” Jenna said after a moment. “I can’t help if she keeps shutting me out.”

Aliyah smirked faintly, crossing her arms. “So tell her that. You’re not the type to sit around and wait for someone else to fix things, right? Go confront her, like the fiery little Viper you are.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her sister’s teasing, but the words stayed with her. Maybe Aliyah was right—waiting wasn’t getting her anywhere, and the Brimstone situation wasn’t something she could handle without you. As much as she hated to admit it, you were already too entangled with one another for her to pretend otherwise.

She exhaled sharply, determination taking root. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll figure it out. But if she tries to pull some shit on me again, I won't hold back."

Aliyah grinned. “Now that’s the Jenna I know.”

Aliyah sighed in relief, glad her words had managed to ease her sister’s frustration. She could have kept up the teasing, sure, but she knew better. Deep down, she understood the root of Jenna’s anger—it wasn’t just about the danger or the argument at breakfast.

You weren’t wrong, after all. As far as Aliyah knew, the terms of whatever arrangement you and Jenna had were clear: you’d help her get what she needed, and once she had it, that was that. Simple, transactional, with no strings attached. But that simplicity seemed to be the very thing eating at Jenna now.

It wasn’t just frustration; it was hurt. Hurt because Jenna realized you seemed okay with it all ending there—with the two of you going your separate ways. And it wasn’t okay for her. Aliyah could see it—the sadness in Jenna’s eyes, the way her jaw clenched just a bit tighter than usual. It wasn’t about the Ghost Smoke or Brimstone drama anymore. It was about you.

Her sister wasn’t mad at you for walking away. She was sad that you didn’t seem to need her the way she found herself needing you. Sad that she no longer had a reason to stay connected.

Aliyah glanced at her sister, who was staring straight ahead, her grip on the wheel lighter now but still firm. Jenna didn’t want to admit it, not yet, but she was falling. And Aliyah could only hope she didn’t hit the ground too hard.

As Aliyah mindlessly glanced at her side view mirror, she noticed something.

"Uhm sis, do you think that car's been following us?"

Jenna raises her gaze up to the rear view mirror and she spotted the same car that had been trailing them for a while now—a solid black Escalade. But California traffic is like that, the typical resident wasn't going to lane change like a racer. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Still, to be safe, she made a series of deliberate right turns, one after the other, her pulse quickening with each corner. When she glanced at the mirror again, her fears solidified. The car was still there.

“It’s not nothing, Ali. They are following us,” Jenna said, her voice low but tinged with rising panic.

Aliyah stiffened beside her, her wide eyes darting to the side mirror. “W-what? Who do you think it is? Percy? Or those guys from yesterday?”

Jenna’s jaw clenched as she considered their options.

"Aliyah, call Y/n. Now," Jenna ordered, her voice steady, tossing her phone to her sister.

Aliyah fumbled with the phone, her fingers trembling. “What do I even say? ‘Hey, someone’s following us, want to join the party?’” she muttered nervously, trying to mask her fear.

Jenna shot her a sharp look. “Just tell her where we are and what’s happening. She’ll know what to do.”

Aliyah hesitated for a split second before dialing your number. “It's ringing.” Aliyah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

"Jenna?"

The girl driving couldn't help but feel relief upon the sound of your voice, maybe it was because you both have faced many high stakes situations together and have always made it out on the other side. And in that moment, she felt certain you’d all make it through this one too.

“Okay, so, there’s this car, and it’s been following us for a while. Jenna took a bunch of right turns, and they’re still there. We don’t know who they are, but—”

“Aliyah,” you interrupted, your tone sharp with focus. “Put Jenna on.”

Aliyah quickly handed the phone over, and Jenna brought it to her ear without taking her eyes off the rearview mirror.

“Jenna, can you lose them?” you asked, voice soft, sensing her hesitation.

“I-I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve never done this before—what if I mess up? What if—”

“Jenna,” you interrupted gently, but firmly. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got this. But I need you to help me help you, okay? What’s up ahead?”

Jenna blinked, her focus flicking back to the road. “Uh, there’s a left turn coming up, and... a main road with a lot of traffic.”

“Alright, take the left. Make it clean.”

She nodded, her hands slightly shaky as she turned the wheel, the tires squealing lightly.

“Good,” you encouraged. “Now tell me what’s next. What do you see?”

“There’s an on-ramp to the highway coming up,” she said, her voice tight with nerves.

“Perfect. Get on the highway. Blend into traffic and use the cars to block their line of sight.”

“Okay,” she whispered, guiding the car toward the ramp as Aliyah sat rigid in her seat.

“You’re doing great, Jenna,” you said, keeping your voice calm and steady. “Just focus. You’re faster and smarter than them. Trust yourself.”

Jenna weaved into traffic, her grip still tight on the wheel. She glanced in the rearview mirror and tensed. “They’re still back there.”

“Stay calm,” you said. “What’s in your lane? Any big vehicles?”

“Yeah... there’s a semi up ahead,” she replied, her voice rising with nervous energy.

“Good. Get in its blind spot. Use it as cover. When you’re close to an exit, slip off. They’ll have to stay on the highway.”

She exhaled shakily, maneuvering into position as you guided her through. The tension in the car was thick, but she followed your instructions to the letter.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said softly.

Jenna swerved off the highway, her heart pounding as the pursuing car sped past the exit.

“They’re gone,” she whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.

“You did it, Jenna,” you said, pride clear in your tone.

She let out a shaky laugh, her shoulders finally relaxing. “We did it,” she corrected, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The line went silent for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. Then, breaking the tension, your voice cut through with a sudden, determined tone.

“Jenna, listen. Can you go home, pack a bag for you and Aliyah, and meet me and Hunter at the mall we went to?”

Jenna’s brow furrowed in confusion. Moments ago, you were adamant about keeping her out of your life, and now you were asking her to pack a bag? She glanced at Aliyah, whose puzzled expression mirrored her own.

Aliyah shrugged dramatically, mouthing, “YOLO.”

“Why?” Jenna asked, her tone cautious.

“I’ll explain everything when we meet. Just trust me and do it, okay?”

Jenna hesitated, her mind racing with questions, but something in your voice made her pause. Finally, she exhaled. “Okay. We’ll meet you there.” And hung up the phone.

“Well, would you look at that—your little lover’s quarrel is finally wrapping up,” Aliyah teased, her grin wide.

“Shut up,” Jenna shot back, though the corners of her lips betrayed her as they curved into a reluctant smile. “I’m still mad at her.”

————

“You two are so confusing,” Hunter chuckled as he drove, his laughter filling the car. “Do you hate each other? Or are you about to jump each other’s bones? Seriously, I can never tell.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help but think he had a point.

“So, care to explain why we’re all packing a bag and meeting up with them again?” Hunter asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“We’re going on a weekend getaway,” you replied nonchalantly.

Hunter’s head whipped toward you, excitement lighting up his face. “No way! I’ve always wanted to do the Bahamas.”

You laughed. “Not the Bahamas, Hunt. Just somewhere a few hours away. After everything that went down—the meeting, the girls being followed—I think it’s smart for all of us to lay low for a few days. I’m not taking any chances.”

Hunter nodded dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like he was pledging allegiance. “Protecting your girl and your sister-in-law. I respect it.”

Ignoring his teasing, you redirected him. “Just drive us to the garage,” you said firmly. “I need to let Anton know we’ll be out of town for a few days. The last thing I need is him freaking out and sending a search party.”

————

As Hunter pulls into the garage, you take in the sight of the Sinners hard at work, each one laser-focused on their tasks. Was there a race coming up?

Stepping out of the car, your eyes land on Anton at the back, working on a car with Mason. You hadn't seen Mason in a while—not since the Sinner-Viper race nearly two months ago. Not that you missed him; Mason was one of the most aggravating members of the crew. Apparently, Anton in the moment thought so too, judging by the way he was yelling at him for some reason.

"Hey! Long time, no see."

You turned to see Mikey approaching, her brown eyes bright with curiosity.

She tilted her head, eyes scanning both you and Hunter. "So, what have you two been up to?"

"Oh, you know," Hunter chimed in, "just the usual. Saving the day and eating pancakes"

Mikey raised a brow, her skepticism softened by amusement. “Uh-huh. Sounds like you two are living the dream.”

She shifted her attention to you, crossing her arms. “Haven’t seen you around for a few days. No more late nights at the garage?”

You felt a flicker of unease. Something about Mikey always made you cautious, as if she could see right through you. Keeping your tone casual, you rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, the Aston’s finished, so I’m finally catching up on sleep. Not much reason to be here right now.”

Mikey tilted her head, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer. “Really? And here I thought this place was your second home. What’s been keeping you busy?”

Before you could formulate a response, Hunter swooped in. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not slacking off. We’re just gearing up for a little road trip.”

“Road trip?” Mikey repeated, her interest clearly piqued.

Hunter nodded, grinning. “Yeah, figured it’s time for some fresh air and open roads. Recharge the batteries, you know?”

You shot him a subtle glare, but he just winked at you, unfazed.

Mikey narrowed her eyes slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Interesting. Well, have fun with that. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Us? Trouble?” Hunter gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Never.”

"We actually came here to let Anton know we’ll be gone for a couple of days,” you say, flashing Mikey a polite smile. “Catch you later.” Without waiting for a response, you grab Hunter’s arm and drag him along.

“Would it kill you not to spill everything?” you hiss under your breath.

Hunter shrugged, his usual carefree grin firmly in place. “Relax. It’s gonna get out eventually that we’re taking a couple days off. If we act shady, it’ll just make people more suspicious.”

You sighed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Together, you made your way toward the back of the garage, where Anton and Mason were knee-deep in their latest project.

“I don’t know why I keep you around, Mason,” Anton groaned, his hands dragging down his face in exasperation. “You incompetent fool!”

Hearing your footsteps, he glanced up, his frustration momentarily melting into surprise. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your tone light. “I'm kind of in a rush, but just wanted to let you know Hunter and I are heading out of town for a couple of days. Figured I’d let you know so you don’t worry.”

Anton’s brows furrowed as he straightened up, eyeing the both of you. “Heading out? What for?”

“Just a road trip,” you said casually, shrugging like it was no big deal. “You know, get some fresh air, clear our heads. Nothing major.”

His eyes flicked to Hunter, then back to you, his suspicion barely veiled. “Where to and who’s going?”

"We don't really know yet, wanna see where the road takes us you know? And just us two," you replied smoothly, lying without hesitation.

Anton’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to press harder. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. But something feels off about this, and I don’t like it.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If this is about something dangerous, you better tell me now. You know I’ll have your back.”

You swallowed hard but maintained your composure. “It’s not, I promise. We’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. Anton studied you for a moment longer before nodding, though his concern was evident. "Alright. Just be careful out there, okay? Keep your phones on and don't do anything stupid."

"Got it," you promised, trying to sound reassuring.

Hunter gave Anton a mock salute. "We'll be model citizens, swear."

Anton rolled his eyes but didn't press further. As you turned to leave, Mason chimed in from where he was leaning against the car. "Bring me back something cool! Like a souvenir or somethin'!"

Hunter snorted. "Sure thing, buddy. How about a map so you can finally figure out how to navigate a racetrack without crashing?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you walked away, though Anton's lingering concern weighed heavily in the back of your mind.

————

The SUV you “borrowed” from the garage rumbled along the highway as you adjusted your grip on the wheel, glancing at Hunter slouched comfortably in the passenger seat. Your packed bag sat in the back alongside his, evidence of your brief pit stop at home.

The memory of Anton’s concerned expression lingered, gnawing at you. You hated that you hadn’t told him the truth. He’d lost his father too—same as you—and you knew better than anyone how much that loss shaped him. How much it shaped both of you. But unlike you, Anton didn’t know there was more to the story. That it wasn’t just a tragic accident.

You felt awful for keeping it from him, for standing there and letting him believe everything was fine. But what were you supposed to do? Drop that bombshell and then tell him you were heading out of town for a few days? There was no way he’d have let you leave. No way he wouldn’t try to step in, to get involved.

And as much as it tore you up inside, you couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. Protecting Jenna—and by extension, your fragile alliance with her—had to come first. There was too much at stake, and dragging Anton into it now would only complicate things further. Still, the weight of your silence felt heavier with each passing mile.

“You good?” Hunter’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, though the word felt hollow.

He raised a brow but didn’t push, thankfully. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, letting the conversation from earlier drift back in.

“I gotta admit. I thought Anton would take a lot more convincing.”

Hunter glanced at you with a smirk. “What, you thought he’d put his foot down? He knows you’re stubborn as hell. Probably figured there was no point fighting you on it.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though a part of you wasn’t so sure. Anton letting you go that easily still didn’t sit right. He’d been wary, his words cautious, but ultimately, he hadn’t stopped you. You wondered if he trusted you more than you expected—or if he had reasons of his own for letting you leave.

Shaking the thought from your mind, you shifted the conversation. “By the way, you seemed pretty comfortable with Jenna and Aliyah back at the diner.”

Hunter shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re cool. Aliyah’s funny, and Jenna’s… well, Jenna. We were just chatting for a bit before you showed up.”

“Before I showed up?” you echoed, glancing at him skeptically. “She didn’t seem in a chatty mood when I got there.”

Hunter chuckled. “I guess I have that effect on people. Smooth-talker, remember?”

Something about the way he said it made you pause, a memory resurfacing. “Wait. Jenna texted you, didn’t she? How do you even know her?”

Hunter tensed ever so slightly, and you didn’t miss it. “Uh… well…”

The gears in your head were starting to turn. “Hunter,” you pressed, narrowing your eyes. “How do you know Jenna?”

He fidgeted with his hands, clearly stalling. “It’s complicated, alright? Don’t worry about it.”

Before you could demand an answer, the bright lights of the mall parking lot came into view, and you spotted Jenna and Aliyah parked and waiting near the back of the mall. Hunter exhaled dramatically, clearly relieved to be off the hook—for now.

"We're here," he announced unnecessarily, pointing out the obvious.

You rolled your eyes but focused on parking the SUV. As soon as you stepped out, Jenna's sharp gaze locked onto you, her arms crossed, while Aliyah waved with a cheeky grin. Whatever Hunter was hiding would have to wait.

You park the SUV next to their car and step out, heading straight for the trunk. Without a word, you pop it open before turning toward Jenna and Aliyah. Stretching out your hands, you motion for their bags.

Aliyah hands over her duffle bag without hesitation, but Jenna hesitates, squinting at you with suspicion. Her scoff cuts through the quiet as you turn around and load the bags into the trunk.

Following you to the back of the SUV, she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "Uhm, are you planning to explain what's going on anytime soon?"

You close the trunk with a sharp thunk and meet her gaze, keeping your tone steady. "I will."

You glance over your shoulder, flashing her a grin. "Oh, and hey—nice work shaking those guys. Not everyone's got those skills. Seriously, you were impressive."

As you turn back to the SUV, Jenna's voice comes softly, almost shyly, "Thanks."

You don't catch it, too focused on adjusting the bags in the trunk, but Aliyah and Hunter exchange knowing looks. Jenna's rare vulnerability wasn't something they saw often, and the faint pink dusting her cheeks didn't go unnoticed either.

————

You merge onto Interstate 5, the highway stretching south through California. The evening sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of gold and fiery orange. Hunter has his window down, one arm draped lazily over the edge, while Aliyah hums along to a faint tune playing on the radio. Jenna sits diagonally across from you, arms crossed, her gaze fixed out the window. The soft pout on her lips and the sharpness of her glare suggest she’s deep in thought—and likely still mad at you.

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Even in her frustration, she looks ridiculously adorable.

As you bring your eyes back to the road, they flicker back to the mirror—and that’s when it happens. Jenna catches your gaze, her sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

Crap.

She breaks the silence, her tone firm but tinged with curiosity. “Alright, enough stalling. Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

You’re relieved she doesn’t make a snarky comment about catching you staring. Instead, you sigh and focus back on the road, deciding it’s time to answer her question.

“I’m sorry,” you start, glancing briefly at her reflection, then at Aliyah. “To both of you. You were right earlier… about being involved in all this.”

Hunter nods in silent approval from the passenger seat, encouraging you to keep going. “…As much as I don’t want either of you involved,” you continue, catching him facepalming out of the corner of your eye, “there’s no avoiding it now.”

"Neither one of can help it, and that car following you? It kind of put things into perspective for me. So I think the safe option for all of us to get out of town for a few days."

Jenna raises a brow, her expression unreadable, but she doesn’t respond right away. Aliyah and Hunter both glance at each other, waiting for someone to fill the silence. When Jenna finally speaks, her voice is softer than you expected. “Still didn’t answer the question,” she says. “Where are we going?”

You shrug one shoulder, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t know,” you admit with a lopsided grin. “I’m just driving.”

Jenna stares at you for a long moment before exhaling and shaking her head. She doesn’t voice the acceptance of your apology, but something in her gaze softens, and you can tell she’s made her peace with it—for now.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’re on the run, and you’re winging it? Great plan, genius.”

Aliyah bursts into laughter, and Hunter cheers, “This is classic! Road trip roulette—who needs a destination when you’ve got vibes?”

Jenna pinches the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath, but you swear you catch the faintest hint of a smile.

————

The next hour passes surprisingly smoothly. Everyone keeps themselves entertained in their own way, avoiding any mention of the issues that pushed you all to leave town in the first place. Aliyah has her headphones in, swaying gently to whatever music she’s listening to, while Jenna scrolls through her phone, occasionally glancing out the window. Hunter fiddles with the radio, switching stations until he finds a faintly decent song, only to switch it again moments later.

You keep your focus on the road, but your mind drifts. A part of you wished you could bring back the easy banter you used to have with Jenna—back before you ghosted her. It would've made the drive so much more fun. Instead, there’s this quiet tension hanging in the air between you two, one you’re desperately hoping will dissolve sooner rather than later. At least Hunter agreed to take over driving on the way back. Maybe by then, things between you and Jenna will be better.

Suddenly, Hunter starts humming, his voice cutting through the silence. At first, it’s aimless, but then it takes shape.

“Ninety-nine bottles of milk on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of milk!” he sings loudly, grinning as he looks around at everyone.

You groan. “Oh, no. Don’t.”

Aliyah chuckles behind you, joining in softly, “Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of milk on the wall!”

Jenna sighs dramatically but mutters, “This is so dumb,” just before she jumps in on the next line. Within minutes, the whole car erupts into an awkward yet oddly harmonious singalong, voices overlapping and laughter spilling between verses. By the time you hit ninety-five bottles, everyone’s belting at the top of their lungs.

It’s ridiculous, it’s cheesy, and it’s exactly what you all needed.

When the laughter finally dies down, Jenna clears her throat. “Uh, I need to pee.”

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. Internally, you can’t help but think, Really? We’ve only been on the road for an hour. Did she not go before we left?

But you don’t voice the thought. Instead, you nod, spotting a route stop up ahead. “Alright, we’ll pull over.”

As you exit the highway and roll into the rest stop, Hunter claps your shoulder. “Road trips, man. This is what it’s all about.”

You just shake your head, chuckling as you park the SUV.

————

As everyone steps out at the route stop, the golden light of the setting sun casts long shadows over the parking lot. Hunter stretches dramatically, mumbling something about his aching legs, while Aliyah is already darting toward the brightly lit convenience store, proclaiming her hunt for snacks. Jenna heads to the bathroom, and once she returns she lingers by the SUV, her arms folded, her body language closed.

“Need anything?” you ask, hesitating slightly as you approach her.

She shakes her head but doesn’t look at you. “I’m good.”

You nod, biting back the urge to say more, and join Aliyah and Hunter into the store. The shelves are stocked with everything from bags of chips to questionable gas station sushi.

Hunter immediately gravitates toward the candy aisle, gleefully holding up a pack of gummy worms. “You know you want some,” he teases, tossing a pack at Aliyah, who yelps and tries to dodge.

You chuckle at their antics but can’t help glancing back toward the SUV, wondering if Jenna’s still standing there, or if she’s wandered in.

She hasn’t.

Grabbing a couple of bottled drinks and a bag of chips, you head to the register. Aliyah sidles up beside you, arms full of snacks. “Do you think we should get something for Jenna? She barely ate earlier.”

You hesitate, and recall her eating a chocolate the day you both hung out at the mall and then grab that brand of chocolate from a display near the checkout.

Outside, you find Jenna leaning against the side of the car, scrolling through her phone. You hold out the candy as you approach. “Figured you might want this.”

She glances at it, then at you, her lips twitching like she’s suppressing a thank-you. “Thanks,” she says quietly, taking it without meeting your eyes.

There’s a pause. The others are still inside, their laughter faintly audible from the store. For a moment, it’s just you and Jenna in the fading light.

“You okay?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re even expecting an answer.

She finally meets your gaze, her expression guarded but not unkind. “I’m fine,” she replies, but her tone doesn’t match the words.

You want to push, to ask what’s really on her mind, but something about the way she holds herself stops you. Instead, you nod and step back, giving her space.

She seemed fine interacting with you in the group, she was more vocal. But once it was just you two she got all quiet. But she surprised you with her next words.

She finally glances at you properly, her eyes searching yours. “Thanks, by the way. For this. I know you didn’t have to.”

You swallow, suddenly aware of how close she’s standing. “You don’t have to thank me, Jenna. I just… I want to make sure you’re safe—and your sister!”

She nods faintly, looking down at the ground. For a second, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you under the flickering lights.

Before the moment can stretch too long, Hunter sticks his head out of the car window. “Yo! Are we road-tripping or setting up camp here? Let’s go!”

Jenna chuckles, the tension breaking as she steps back. “Guess we should get going.”

“Yeah.” You push off the SUV, giving her a small nod. “Let’s hit the road.”

As you both climb back into the car, you can’t help but glance at her through the mirror again. She doesn’t notice this time, and you’re glad she doesn’t.

————

"Hey, Y/n, remember the car I was driving yesterday?" Aliyah asks, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over the SUV.

It’s been about two and a half hours since you hit the road, and everyone is busy with their snacks. Conversations drift in and out, short bursts of chatter punctuated by the rustling of wrappers.

You hum softly, urging her to continue.

Aliyah glances at you in the rearview mirror, her tone casual. “It’s pretty cool that you own that car. My dad used to have the same one, and I remember him always going on and on about how rare it was. Small world, huh?” She shrugs, clearly amused by the coincidence.

You and Jenna freeze. For a moment, no one says anything, and the awkward silence hangs in the air like a weight.

You glance at Jenna through the rearview mirror, and she avoids your gaze. Great, you think. Of all the things to come up right now, this had to be it.

“Well…” you clear your throat, deciding Aliyah deserves to know at this point. “That was your dad’s car.”

Aliyah’s brows furrow in confusion. “What? No, his was black.”

“Yeah,” you admit with an awkward laugh, “and then I wrapped it green.”

The realization dawns on her, and she turns to Jenna, her jaw dropping as she whisper yells, “Oh my God! You like the girl who stole Dad’s car?”

Jenna’s eyes widen, and her face flushes. “Aliyah, shut up!” she snaps, but her tone lacks bite.

Aliyah smirks, clearly reveling in her discovery. “I mean, this is peak comedy. She stole Dad’s car, and you’re just fine with it?”

“I’m not fine with it,” Jenna retorts, but her lips curve slightly as if she’s holding back a smile. “And for the record, it was both of us who stole it.”

Aliyah raises her hands in mock surrender. “Oh, so now you’re an accomplice? Love that for you.”

While they bicker in their private conversation, Jenna’s eyes soften, and her gaze turns nostalgic. “That day was insane,” she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. “We had no idea what we were doing, but it was... kind of thrilling."

Not knowing what the two girls were talking about, you glance at her in the mirror for the millionth time today. Jenna’s smile, faint and genuine, tugs at something deep in your chest, but before you can dwell on it, Hunter’s voice cuts in.

“Well, look at you,” he says with a laugh, nudging your arm. “Stealing the car of the dad of the girl you like. That’s one for the books, huh?”

“Shut up, Hunter,” you groan, shoving his arm off you.

He just grins wider. “Nah, I’m serious. You’ve really outdone yourself here. Romantic and criminal—who knew you had it in you?”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back into the seat, but an idea suddenly strikes you. "Alright, since we're all in a sharing mood, how about this—Hunter, how exactly do you and Jenna know each other?" Your tone pointed, almost teasing.

Silence.

Not a word, not even the rustle of snack wrappers from the backseat.

Aliyah breaks the tension, her brows knitting as she glances at her sister. "Wait...what? I thought we both met Hunter this morning?"

You glance in the rearview mirror. Jenna’s expression is stone cold, her face unreadable, like she’s mastered the art of giving away nothing. She doesn’t so much as blink, just stares out the window as though the question didn’t even register.

Hunter, on the other hand, looks like he’s sweating bullets. His hand fidgets with the strap of his seatbelt, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, well… you see…”

Before Hunter can dig himself into an even deeper hole, Jenna suddenly bursts out laughing. The sound is so unexpected, so completely jarring after the tension-filled silence, that your head whips around to look at her.

Her laughter is light and melodic, the kind that shakes her shoulders and makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. For a second, you forget about the chaos in the car and just stare.

Her laugh is kind of… cute, you think, catching yourself and quickly looking back at the road before anyone notices.

Jenna waves a hand, her laughter dying down just enough to speak. “Relax, Hunter. Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Go ahead, tell them.”

Aliyah sighs loudly from the backseat, crossing her arms. “Okay, my patience is wearing thin. Someone better spill before I start throwing snacks.”

"Okay fine, you tell them Jenna, since you think it's so funny," Hunter mumbles defeated, shrinking into his seat.

Jenna glances at Hunter, who is clearly trying to become one with his seatbelt. With a small shrug, she answers casually, “I walked in on Hunter… being intimate.”

You blink, nearly missing your next lane change. “Oh, wow. That’s… embarrassing,” you mutter, trying not to laugh. But then your brain starts piecing things together, and you frown. “Wait a second. How does that even happen? Like… was this in public or something? Did you come to Brimstone, or were you—”

Hunter interrupts, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I was in Summer Valley, okay?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, okay. Get that bag, I guess. But, man, from the way you were sweating, I thought it was something really bad.”

For a second, you think the tension has finally lifted. But then Hunter lets out a resigned sigh, muttering, “I was with someone from the Viper's crew.”

It all made sense now, why Hunter was so understanding of the idea of you being affiliated with a Viper—why there was two toothbrushes in his bathroom.

He had his own fucking Viper.

“What the fuck?!” you shout, your voice climbing a whole octave as you instinctively swerve the car.

Hunter grabs the oh-shit handle. “Whoa, whoa, focus! You’re driving, not judging!”

“What the fuck Hunter?!” you yell again, steadying the wheel as the SUV veers slightly back into the lane. Thankfully, it’s almost 8 pm, and the highway is relatively empty, so you narrowly avoid disaster. "You're fucking a Viper?! What the actual—"

Hunter throws up his hands defensively. “What’s the big deal?! You are too!”

You slam the brakes—figuratively, of course—your head whipping around to glare at him. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Your face goes red-hot, and you stammer, “I’m not—what—literally who?! I’m not fucking anybody!”

Hunter smirks, sensing your flustered state. “Oh, sure. But you wish you were fucking a Viper.”

If you thought you couldn’t blush any harder, you were wrong. From the backseat, Aliyah is howling with laughter while Jenna buries her face in her hands, her own ears tinged pink.

“You’re delusional,” you snap at Hunter, but your embarrassment only fuels his laughter. “Seriously, who even—"

“Doesn’t matter!” Hunter interrupts, his grin practically splitting his face. “I’m just saying, don’t judge me when you’ve got your own Viper situation brewing back there.”

“Hunter, I swear—”

Aliyah cuts you off, gasping between giggles. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. This is the best road trip ever!”

Jenna groans softly, pressing a hand to her forehead, but the small, stupid smile tugging at her lips betrays her. She hated being teased, especially by Aliyah, who had the precision of a sniper when it came to embarrassing her. Yet, as the chaos bubbled in the backseat, Jenna found her thoughts wandering to the things Hunter had been saying to poke at you.

What had you two been talking about? Hunter clearly knew something she didn’t, and now, curiosity gnawed at her despite herself. She glanced at you, watching as you muttered under your breath and tightened your grip on the steering wheel like it might save you. It wasn’t just the teasing; something else was making you squirm, and Jenna couldn’t stop the faint curve of her lips from growing into a fuller smile.

She didn’t know what Hunter was hinting at, but the way your ears burned red and your gaze stayed glued to the road… she couldn’t help but find it a little endearing.

————

The freeway stretched ahead in an endless ribbon of asphalt, swallowed by the inky darkness of night. The faint glow of distant city lights barely pierced the dark sky, leaving only the occasional flash of headlights to illuminate the passing road signs and surrounding emptiness. It was quiet now, except for the hum of the tires against the pavement and the faint sound of Aliyah’s soft snores from the backseat. The earlier chaos had subsided, leaving the SUV calm in stillness.

You glanced over at Hunter, slumped against the window with his head bobbing slightly with the movement of the car. He and Aliyah had devoured the candy earlier like children on Halloween and, predictably, crashed hard. For the last thirty minutes, they’d been completely out, and you were silently grateful for the reprieve. Any more teasing, and you were sure your heart would’ve leapt out of your chest.

Your heart was still pounding, though.

You sigh as you wrestled with a thought you’d been avoiding for a while. You never addressed ghosting Jenna. You mentioned to her at the meeting that you’d talk later, but then you didn’t. And now, things between you were stuck in this strange, awkward limbo. You hated it. You hated the distance and the way your banter had evaporated into stilted exchanges.

More than anything, you wanted this trip to be enjoyable for both of you—for her.

“Hey, Jenna you awake?” you said softly, testing the waters. You knew she was awake. Her breathing wasn’t even enough to fool you. You just needed something to break the ice.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she muttered, her voice low to avoid waking her sister.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands flexing nervously against the steering wheel. Then you took a deep breath and decided to do what needed to be done.

“I just… I want to apologize,” you began, keeping your eyes fixed on the road ahead. “For ghosting you. I know it was shitty, and you didn’t deserve it.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel her eyes on you, listening.

“I… I had a conversation with my mom the first day I didn’t reply to you,” you continued, your voice soft and unsteady. “And it—it messed with my head. I found out my dad wanted out of the Sinners. That completely flipped everything I thought I knew. I was already so confused, and it just made things worse. And then…” You paused, forcing yourself to push through the lump in your throat. “It made me feel terrified. Of everything. Of this whole situation. And of you. Of what you made me feel—what I felt for—”

You clamped your mouth shut, cutting yourself off realizing you spilled too much. Your mind was already coming up with excuses for what you meant by what you made me feel. Heat crawled up your neck, your knuckles stark white against the dim light from the dashboard. You scrambled internally for a way to gloss over your slip-up, but the words weren’t coming.

“I’m not trying to excuse what I did,” you said after a beat. “There’s no excuse for it. I just wanted to explain, to tell you why I acted the way I did. And to say I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

She's not saying anything. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and you risked a quick glance in her direction, her expression unreadable in the faint glow of the passing headlights.

Panic began to claw at your chest.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you blurted out, your words rushing now. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know what I did was shitty, and I know I have no right to expect forgiveness—”

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, Greaser."

Greaser.

You smile.

And that was all she said until Hunter and Aliyah awoken from their slumber twenty minutes later. But it was enough.

————

"Damn, how long was I out?" Hunter grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted in his seat.

Aliyah stretched with an exaggerated groan, yawning as if she'd been asleep for days.

"Only about forty minutes," you replied, glancing at them. The weight in your chest felt lighter after your moment with Jenna, but a part of you braced for the teasing chaos that might erupt now that they were awake.

Aliyah groaned dramatically. "Ugh, I was hoping the driving part would be over when I woke up. Are we seriously just gonna spend days cooped up in this car?"

"We’ve only been driving for like three hours," Hunter pointed out with a shrug.

"And that’s not far enough?" Aliyah raised a brow.

Hunter nodded, turning his gaze to you. "She’s got a point, you know."

"...I have a suggestion." Aliyah finally says.

"Shoot," you encourage her.

She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she looked at Jenna. "How about we visit Markus? We’re probably close to him already."

Jenna’s face lit up instantly, her smile matching her sister’s excitement. "That would be amazing, Ali, but… are we really gonna risk leading trouble straight to him?"

Aliyah waved the concern off with a dismissive hand. "Come on, you really think those bad guys are gonna follow us all the way to LA?"

While the sisters debated, you leaned toward Hunter, lowering your voice. "Who the fuck is Markus?"

Hunter smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What’s the matter? You jealous?"

"What? No!" you snapped, scoffing like the idea was ridiculous. But your mind betrayed you, lingering on Jenna’s radiant smile. Who was this guy, and why did she look so happy talking about him?

The sisters’ conversation quieten down, and Aliyah finally addresses you, her grin still firmly in place. "Y/n, how does a trip to UCLA sound?"

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 1 month ago

Text

The Return

Batter Up Chapter 7

Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: After a month of being away from the game and the girl he loves, Joel Miller is back and ready to play. Warnings: smut, making a sex tape, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (reader has an IUD), cream pie, also regular pie, joel miller's dirty mouth, wine. Words: 5,000

A/N: Thank you to my dearest @devineconjuring and her beautiful brain for beta'ing and being my grammar goddess.

Masterlist Playlist

⚾️⚾️⚾️

The crowd chants Joel’s name, lights flicker through the stadium, the ground feels like it’s shaking beneath his feet. He loves this feeling—the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, the loud crowd drowning out every doubt he’s ever felt. After three weeks on the injured list and another week rehabbing in the minors–a month away from the big leagues–Joel Miller is back.

He walks to the plate, digging his heels into the dirt and tapping his bat against the plate as he soaks in the moment.

“Miller, good to see you back,” the catcher says.

Joel nods, and grunts an acknowledgment back.

His eyes settle on the pitcher, some young phenom throwing 99-mph with almost every pitch. Don’t worry kid, you’ll get old like me.

The first pitch whooshes past him—ball one.

Ball two.

Strike one.

The pitcher’s keeping it a little outside, Joel inches closer to the plate, squaring up. The pitcher winds up again, Joel takes a deep breath, feeling the vibration of the bat as it connects with the ball. The crack of the bat reverberates through the stadium as the ball soars past the infield, over the outfield, and disappears beyond the right-field fence.

Home run.

The crowd erupts, the celebratory bell tolls as he rounds the bases. His eyes scan the club box above third base, finding you amidst the cheering fans, your arms raised high, that smile of yours lighting up his heart.

Joel Miller is back, doing what he loves, and now in front of the woman he loves.

You’re so proud of him. You wipe the tears from your eyes as Joel’s feet touch home base. His recovery wasn’t easy. Every week away from the game for someone as old as him means double the work versus a young kid just in the game. Forty year olds aren’t known for being pro athletes.

With the long Labor Day weekend, you were able to take time off from work and travel by train to Philadelphia to witness Joel's celebrated comeback, which had turned into a legend after his grand slam. Suddenly, all of your worries are lifted away. The stress of telling your families that you're a couple, your demanding job as a column writer at Sporting Digest that revolves around the ebb and flow of games, trades, and record breaking moments–none of it matters now.

Your responsibilities at work have been stacking up over the past few weeks. Churning out articles on everything from college football predictions to analyses of NBA draft picks. When you were hired you agreed to not cover baseball, what with the conflict of interest and all. Now, you dream of the headlines you could write about your boyfriend’s triumphant return.

You’ve barely been able to leave your laptop. Last week, you spent three days shadowing a tennis star at the US Open, scribbling notes on her training and the pressure of being labeled the “next big thing.” You’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone do laundry, go grocery shopping, and, most importantly, be there for Joel. You put in countless hours of work to make this long weekend possible, just so you could witness his big comeback firsthand.

“Heck of a player that Miller is,” you hear the TV in the corner say. “He sure knows how to show everyone he’s still got it, doesn’t he?”

You clutch his number dangling from your neck, you’re so proud of him, always proving everybody wrong. Well worth every sacrifice.

The Liberties win, 4-0, all thanks to Joel’s grand slam in the first inning. Sports radio is going to have a field day with this.

You make your way down to the stadium’s corridors, where staff rush around with more important tasks than yours.

The Liberties clubhouse sits just ahead of you, the two large blue doors stay closed to onlookers. You rest your back against the cold cinder block wall and send Joel a text, telling him to take his time.

A year ago, you never could’ve imagined this. Joel Miller—rugged, no-nonsense baseball star, the man who occupied your teenage dreams—now your boyfriend. The man who keeps your favorite pasta sauce in his pantry. The man who goes mattress shopping with you. It feels surreal, yet so real at the same time.

Every time that damn blue door opens your heart skips a beat, hoping you’ll find Joel walking out. False alarm after false alarm.

Until…

Joel emerges, hair slicked back, wearing a gray Liberties shirt, khaki pants, and those cheesy white New Balance sneakers you tease him relentlessly about. Joel, you’re way too rich to be wearing these damn ragged shoes.

“Hi baby,” he smiles as he wraps his arms around you, pushing you further against the wall.

“Hi,” you breathlessly respond, smelling the body wash on his skin. Damn, he showered. “Good game.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

You can’t help but smile at how happy he is, back where he belongs, doing what he loves.

“Come on,” he says, pulling you close. “Let’s go celebrate.” His arm stays around your waist as he leads you through the corridors to his car.

It’s so freeing now, being able to cheer for—and love—Joel out in the open, for all eyes to see.

“You know you made me cry today, right?” you say, reaching for his hand resting on your thigh.

“I did, huh?” he replies with a smirk on his face.

He always looks so confident as he drives. Philly’s narrow streets, filled with potholes and pedestrians, are nothing like Austin’s, but he navigates them as effortlessly as he does everything else—injuries, tough teammates, media storms. He handles it all like he handles a fastball: with ease.

“Yeah, I’m really proud of you,” you tell him softly, grabbing his hand harder. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’m just so happy to be here for you.”

He smiles that quiet Joel smile. “That’s how I feel watching you handle everything too.”

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, noticing you're not on the route to his apartment. “I hope I’m dressed okay,” you say, looking down at your simple red gingham dress.

"It’s a surprise. You’ll be fine, you look beautiful baby," he says.

The car winds through the city. You glance over, watching the city lights flicker across his face as the car turns off the main road, slipping into a quieter neighborhood.

The car pulls up to a small, unassuming brick building tucked away on a quiet side street. No flashy sign, no valet—just a discreet, vintage lantern hangs above the door. It’s definitely a place Joel prefers.

He turns off the car and turns to you, his hand still resting on your thigh. “Thought we’d keep it low-key,” his deep voice rumbles in the quiet of the car.

You nod, your smile widening. “Perfect.”

He steps out of the car and, ever the gentleman, comes around to open your door before guiding you toward the entrance. You wrap your arm around his, leaning into his warmth as he leads you inside.

—

“Mr. Miller, welcome to Vetri Cucina. We’re happy to have you here. Let me show you to your table.”

“Silvio," Joel says with a firm handshake. "Good to see you. Thanks."

Your eyes scan the cozy space. Shiny worn floorboards, warm amber walls, a glistening chandelier that hangs from the low ceiling–you’ve never seen a place like this before. Little did you know that behind the unassuming brick row home exterior there would be a whole functional restaurant. It feels like the perfect mix of a place for the two of you, rustic and intimate.

Silvio leads you both up a narrow staircase to a private room on the second floor. A table for two sits in the center of the room. A red glass chandelier hangs above it, candlelights flickering shadows across the golden walls..

“So, we’re still hiding our dinners with each other away from prying eyes?” you tease as Joel pulls the chair out for you and you take a seat.

“Not exactly,” he says, taking your hand in his. “I just wanted to show off that I can get us a private table at one of the best restaurants in Philly.”

You laugh. “I’m sure there’s a Golden Corral around here.”

Joel chuckles. “Very funny. But trust me—you’ll love it here. They’ve got all the fancy dishes with those French words you like.”

“You know me too well.”

“Better than you think,” he says, his eyes gleaming under the golden light.

—

A waiter approaches, a polished smile on his face. “Good evening, and welcome. My name is Royal, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. We have a special tasting menu prepared just for you, personally selected by our chef. It’ll start with an appetizer, followed by a pasta course, a main, and dessert.”

Your mouth waters as Royal pours you a glass of wine.

”Each course will be paired with a wine from our grand collection. Your first course will be out shortly. In the meantime, is there anything else I can bring you?”

Joel shakes his head. “We’re all set, thanks.”

“Wow,” you say once the waiter leaves, glancing around the elegantly set table. “I feel a little underdressed for a tasting menu.”

Joel shrugs. “I have a feeling they won’t care what we’re wearing once I pay the bill. Besides,” he says with a smile, “I like you in that red dress.”

“Atta boy, Texas,” you say, smiling as you sip your wine.

—

After a couple courses of delicious appetizers that you happily eat, but Joel barely touches, the water returns, presenting the main course with a flourish.

"For your entrée, we have our signature dish: salt-crusted tilapia with a bread salad of parsley and tomatoes, alongside grilled artichokes on a bed of smoked squash puree."

You glance at Joel as the waiter expertly cracks the salt crust, revealing the perfectly cooked fish underneath. You know Joel hates fish and artichokes. The waiter sets down two glasses of white wine and disappears, leaving you both alone with the dish.

"Baby, what are you going to do?" you ask, eyes wide as Joel picks up his fork.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m here to impress you,” he says with determination before spearing a piece of the fish. He takes a bite, his nose crinkling ever so slightly as he chews.

“How is it?” you ask, biting back a smile.

Joel grimaces. “I’ve had better.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Please don’t eat it. I know the only fish you like is fried.”

“Always been more of a Filet O Fish man myself.”

“I don’t think they’ve got tartar sauce here, so please, for me, don’t force yourself.”

He sets down his fork with a relieved sigh, his hand finding yours again. “Anything for you.”

When the waiter returns, he doesn’t comment on Joel’s barely touched plate, but you notice a subtle, appreciative smile as he clears away your empty dish.

“Well,” you say, leaning back, happy and full from dinner. “At least there’s dessert.”

“Never said no to dessert,” he chuckles, before looking you in the eyes with adoration.

"You know," he begins, his voice low and serious, "I couldn't have done this without you. Coming back after my injury—”

Joel's voice trails off as he searches for the right words. His eyes stare into yours. You squeeze his hand encouragingly, needing to hear more.

“It wasn’t just physical,” he continues. “It was mental. Wondering if I still had it within me, if I was too old, if it was time for me to hang up my cleats. But you—you never doubted me for a second.”

Tears pool in your eyes as his thumb brushes back and forth against your knuckles.

"I’ve always been your fan, Joel. I’ll always believe in you.”

He nods, a small smile lighting his face. “I know, and that’s what got me through. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile through tears.

The waiter approaches with dessert, you silently thank the interruption so you’re not left sobbing in the middle of this beautiful restaurant over how much you love your boyfriend.

A familiar slice of pie is placed in front of you and Joel.

“Uppercrust?” you excitedly ask, your eyes widening at the large, glazed pecans laying atop the golden crust.

Joel gives a shy, satisfied nod, his lips curving into that familiar, gentle smile. "Thought we’d end the night with our favorite. Had Sarah overnight it to the restaurant."

“Jooooel,” you breathe out, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. You stare at the pie, stunned by how deeply he cares for you.

“All for you baby,” he says softly as he lifts his fork and cheers with a playful smile. “Cheers to Austin and that hotel bar.”

You laugh, grabbing your own fork and tapping it against his. “Cheers,” you whisper, trying to steady your voice.

“Oh my god,” you moan around the fork at the first taste of sweet pie. “I can’t believe you got this. You’re too good to me.”

He barks a laugh. “Baby, this is nothing, I owe you so much.”

The pie is sweet, but your boyfriend is sweeter.

The sweet wine served with the pie warms your body, Joel’s smile from across the table warms you even more. You sneakily slip your foot out of its sandal, and run it up his leg, making your way up to his crotch. He jumps in surprise, his eyes leer at you as he takes a sip of wine. Your foot finds its target, against the soft fabric of his pants, thankful for the white tablecloth that hangs from the table. He places a hand on your foot, pushing it closer to his crotch. You giggle as your toes wiggle back and forth, teasing him.

“So, what’s next?” you ask, with a mischievous grin.

"Well, after we finish dinner, I'll pay the bill, grab some leftover pie for later...and then take you home and fuck you," he responds confidently.

A small hmph escapes your lips at the promise. “Is that so?”

“Oh, it absolutely is,” he replies, a sly grin spreading across his face. He leans in close, his voice lowering to a secretive whisper. “Just think about it—my place, those fancy sheets of mine you love so much…”

His hand wraps around your foot, pressing it harder against him.

“Now you’re just making me impatient,” you tease.

—-

The plates are cleared, the leftover pie is boxed up, Joel settles the bill and rises from his seat, extending his hand to help you up.

Your fingers lace together as you step out into the warm summer night. Joel leads you to his car, unlocking it and opening the door for you. You lean over and seal your mouth over his, relishing in being able to kiss him out in the open. You pull away and give him a smirk before getting in and sliding across the passenger seat, your heart racing with anticipation for the next stop—Joel’s apartment.

Your time together has been precious and few. Your career keeps you north in New York, Joel’s training and rehabilitation game have kept him busy and all over the states. But now, you finally have three nights together—the most time you've had since his injury a month ago.

He glances over at you and winks before he adjusts the rearview mirror. You miss his truck back in Austin, the front bench seat allowing you to slide over and cuddle him close. You curse the existence of the center console.

“Buckle up, baby,” he says with a grin. Your heart races at the double entendre.

—-

Taking the elevator up to Joel's penthouse brings back memories of that first night together, when you couldn't believe how handsome he looked in that golden elevator at the hotel, not believing you were about to sleep with Joel Miller. Now, his body presses against yours as you lean on him, his head nestled in the crook of your neck as he leaves sweet kisses down your skin to the matching pendant of his number you wear, leaving a kiss against it before his eyes meet yours.

“I can’t tell you how much I love seeing this on you, baby,” he says before licking his way up to your mouth, sealing his over yours. He grabs your ass, lifting you into his hold, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, your arms wrap around his wide shoulders.

The elevator doors open and he carries you into his penthouse, crowding you against the entryway wall. His mouth moves against yours with fervor, deepening the kiss as your fingers tangle in his hair. You gasp against his mouth, the cool wall chilling your overheated skin.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses, his breath warm and sweet against your lips. “I’ve missed this—missed you.”

He turns and carries you to the living room. The ambient city lights shining in from the floor-to-ceiling windows light Joel’s way. He gently sets you down on the couch and slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer for another kiss.

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you, baby,” he whispers against your lips, pausing to look into your eyes.

You nod, breathless and eyes wide. “Please,” you whisper.

He grins, standing back slightly, taking in the sight of you sprawled on his couch, dress askew. “You look so damn good.”

His hands rest on the hem of your dress and, with a cocky grin, he slowly lifts it up, exposing the soft skin of your thighs.

“God, this is all I’ve been thinking about. Drove to the ballpark thinking about you, stepped up to the plate thinking about you, and, baby,when I saw you in the stands… all I could think about was you naked in my arms.”

“Joel…” you struggle to find the words, already lust-drunk on his words.

“I need to taste you.”

He drops down to his knees in front of you, his large fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding them off.

You bite your lip as he grips your thighs and spreads them apart.

He breathes out a deep sigh at the sight of you. A low whistle leaves his lips. “There she is, she’s so fuckin’ pretty.”

He leans closer and places soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasingly slow, making your heart race even faster.

“Joel…” you plead.

He spreads you wider, warm breath teasing against your core. He licks a long, slow line from bottom to top, humming appreciatively at the first taste of you.

Your back arches, a gasp escaping your lips. "Oh my God," you breathe.

His rough palms grip your thighs, thick fingers digging into the flesh as he holds you steady. His hot breath tickles your skin as he licks you. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against you, his voice vibrating against your cunt. “Missed this taste.”

His tongue explores you as your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping the soft waves of his dark strands.

Two thick fingers slide inside you, stretching you perfectly. Plush lips close around your clit, sucking and lapping at your sensitive nub.

It's been almost a month since he last touched you like this, and now with his skilled mouth and fingers all over you, your body is ready to let go.

“Joel,” you moan. “C-close.”

He enthusiastically hums against you, deep brown eyes staring into yours from under furrowed brows. His fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit. Your pussy pulses against his thick fingers, squeezing them as you bloom under the pleasure of finally feeling his touch. Goosebumps rise all over your skin, cheeks heating, legs trembling, and your eyes tightly shut… and when he curls his fingers upwards inside you, your orgasm crashes into you, your pussy soaking his hand and your voice screaming his name. He doesn't stop, continuing to lick and tease you through your orgasm until it's all too much and you're pulling at his hair.

He pulls back with a satisfied smile and kisses your inner thigh before standing and placing a kiss on your lips. You taste yourself as he licks into your mouth. His plush lips sucking against yours.

Before you can catch your breath, Joel scoops you up in his strong arms, throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you into his bedroom. You giggle as he smacks your ass and growls.

He sets you on the edge of his bed, the crisp white sheets cool against your overheated skin. He steps back, his eyes roaming over your body.

“Stay right there,” he says as he moves to the closet, rummaging around for a moment before returning with a black camera and tripod in hand.

Your breath catches at the sight as he sets them up, carefully adjusting the angle.

The tiny red recording light blinks on and the little screen lights up. There you are, all disheveled—dress hiked up, your lips full and swollen from Joel’s mouth.

His eyes meet yours. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, excitement running through your body. “Yes,” you breathe.

He grins as he removes his shirt, tossing it to the side before he steps out of his pants. He stays behind the camera, standing in the shadows like a director. “Go ahead baby, take it all off.”

You stand slowly, your heart racing at Joel and the camera’s attention. Dark brown eyes watch you intently from behind the camera, his eyes never leaving your every movement. You reach back and unzip your dress, pulling it down, as you slowly slip the straps off, letting the dress fall to the floor, the red gingham fabric pooling at your feet.

"God, you're gorgeous,” he whispers.

You reach behind to unclasp your bra, staring at Joel as you let it fall away. Your breasts are exposed to his eyes and the camera, your nipples hardening in the cool air. You’re completely bare now except for the necklace with his number.

"Touch yourself for me, baby," he instructs softly.

You smile, running your hands slowly up your sides, cupping your breasts. Your fingers glide over your nipples, teasing them to stiff peaks before you back up against the bed and lay across it, spreading your legs wide for the camera and Joel. Your hand snakes down your body, across your stomach, down to the apex of your thighs.

You lock eyes with Joel as you slowly circle your clit, your breath hitching. His gaze is dark from behind the camera, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the outline of his cock straining against his boxer briefs as he watches you pleasure yourself. Your fingers dip lower, sliding into your wet heat.

"That's it, baby," he groans. "Show me how you like to be touched."

Your other hand kneads your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple.

Joel steps out from behind the camera, moving to the edge of the bed. He strips off his boxers, his thick cock springing free. He strokes himself slowly as he watches you.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growls.

You whimper at his words, your fingers moving faster. "Please, baby,” you whine, “I need you."

He grabs your foot and turns you on the cool, slick sheets. Glancing over at the camera’s small display screen to check the angle of your body.

He climbs on the bed and you instantly welcome the warmth of his presence and his broad body. He positions himself between your legs, gripping his cock and running the head through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Your breath catches as he slowly pushes inside, a smile lighting your face at finally feeling him inside you.

"Fuck," he groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he bottoms out. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me."

You moan as he starts to move, his hips rolling against yours in a steady rhythm. Your hands glide over the expanse of his shoulders and down his muscular back, relishing in feeling the flex of his strong muscles with each thrust.

He leans down, capturing your lips. His tongue tangles with yours as he picks up the pace, fucking you harder.

"Look at the camera, baby," Joel murmurs against your neck. "Let's show it how good I make you feel."

You tilt your head, looking directly at the camera lens with heavy-lidded eyes. The knowledge that you are being recorded, that Joel will watch this later, that the two of you will get off while watching yourselves… it’s a new thrill for you. You moan louder, arching your back higher as Joel fucks you.

"Touch yourself for me," he commands.

Your hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your clit.

"Oh god, baby," you moan, your fingers working furiously at your clit as he pounds into you. "I'm so close."

Joel's rhythm falters slightly as he watches you touch yourself, sweat glistening on his brow. "That's it. Cum for me. Let me feel you."

Your voice echoes through the room as you cry out Joel’s name, your body trembling as your walls clench tightly around him.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hips snapping against yours. “So fucking good, you cum so fucking good for me. So fucking tight.”

He pulls your body towards him, sitting up on the bed, his cock still buried deep inside of you. You take control and ride him, your legs wrapping around his waist as you grind down on him. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding you.

“That’s it baby. Take what you need from me,” he growls.

Your hands tangle in the short waves of his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Your tongues exploring each other’s mouths, bodies glistening with sweat.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his nose bumping against yours. “I love you. God damn baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you moan as he thrusts up into you.

He captures your lips again. “I’m close,” he groans against your mouth. “Cum with me baby. Give me one more.”

His hand snakes down between your bodies, his thumb finds your clit, rubbing firm circles against it as you bounce on his cock.

You cry out his name as you orgasm, Joel’s fingers and cock working in tandem to push you over the ledge. You turn your head to the camera, staring into it as you chant Joel’s name while your walls clench around his cock.

“Oh fuck baby,” Joel groans, his hips stuttering. “I’m gonna cum for you.”

In one swift motion, he flips you onto your back, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he chases his own release. Your hands run down his back, feeling the flex of his muscles with each thrust.

"Cum for me, Joel, I want to feel you cum inside me."

With a final and deep thrust, Joel stills above you. He groans your name as he empties himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt. He fills you with his release, still gently fucking you with soft thrusts, pushing his seed deeper inside you.

He leans over and grabs the camera, his cock still plunged deep inside you. With a sly smile, he films your face, capturing the bliss across it.

“Look at you,” he admires, “smiling all sweetly, all drunk on my cock and cum, aren’t you baby?”

You moan a response and nod eagerly.

He chuckles as he pulls out, shuffling his body down to settle in between your legs. Joel positions the camera between your thighs, spreading them apart and running a finger through your cunt, swollen and slick with his spend pulsating out of you.

“Look at you, leakin’ everywhere,” he groans, collecting himself across his fingers and sticking it inside you. “Can’t have that, now can we?”

His eyes stay focused on the little screen, watching his fingers pump in and out of your overworked cunt.

“Fuckin’ filthy baby,” he angles his fingers, your slick squelches loudly across the room.

Writhing and whining under his touch, your skin is overheated, your pussy radiating heat across your body.

He pulls his soaked finger out, wiping it across your folds. “Show me how you drip baby, let me see.”

A gush of his cum leaks out of you, the warm liquid runs down your ass, pooling on the bed.

“Fucccccccccck,” he growls. “Can’t stop looking at this.”

He zooms out, capturing your whole body in the frame.

“Tell me whose pussy this is,” he instructs.

“Yours,” you breathlessly respond.

“That’s it baby,” he growls, before his eyes lift from the camera and into yours. “I love you,” he softly says, his eyes rounding in reverence.

“I love you too.”

He grins, standing up from the bed and switching off the camera before placing it down on the bedside table.

“That was incredible,” you sigh. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

A smile spreads across his face as he leans down to give you a tender kiss on the lips. "We'll have to watch it later," he says before heading to the bathroom. He returns with a damp towel and gently wipes between your legs, before planting a kiss on your forehead and turning to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” you slur, too blissed out of your mind.

“To get pie. I’m starving.”

⚾️⚾️⚾️

Series Masterlist

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #baseball au #baseball joel #joel miller tlou

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