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sinner-as-saint · 1 month ago

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drag me under

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader

Run-through: After what has to be one of the most exhausting and exasperating meetings he’s ever had with the Bishop and Mother Superior, Father Charlie desperately needs a quick release. It was wrong, he knew and he’d repent for it later. Except, what he thought was going to stay as a secret between him and God ends up involving a third witness – you.

Themes: smut, explicit language, mentions of infidelity, degrading kink

Fuck. He was close.

He’d shut himself inside the confessional booth a few minutes ago because he absolutely needed to get his mind off certain things. Those meetings always left him feeling like a damned pressure cooker, and he always needed to let out some steam after.

All that arguing, and having to keep his cool and maintain composure when all he wanted to do was yell and tell them all that he was right and they were wrong. It had to be the generational gap, but sometimes he felt like he was being tortured with how much his mindset differed from those of his superiors. Why couldn’t they just let him do things his way?

But he pushed all that aside for a moment. Just a moment, that’s all he needed. Fist wrapped around his throbbing cock, his spit and precum giving him just the right amount of lubricant, his head thrown back against the thick wood as he worked his fist up and down his cock, as fast as he could.

He tried to keep his gasps and moans as quiet as possible. It was late in the afternoon, there wouldn’t be anyone around during this time, but just in case. A groan left his lips anyway, and he bit his lip immediately after.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…

He could hear how fast his fist moved, the friction was almost just as good as how he remembered sinking into a warm body felt like. Almost, not quite as exhilarating though.

Fuck!

A few more tugs, a couple more unrestrained moans later, and he came with a loud sigh. Spilling all over his hand, gasping for breath as he blinked a couple times, already feeling his thoughts flowing much easier. His all black suit, his collar around his neck didn’t feel as tight and constricting anymore.

He quickly cleaned himself up with a handkerchief he’d have to put in the trash later, he sighed one more time as he made sure to fix his clothes and was about to walk out of the booth when he heard a timid, soft, almost hesitant voice ask:

“Are you done, Father?”

He froze.

Shit.

He cleared his throat. It sounded like a young woman on the other side. He tried to look but the screen only allowed him a partial view of your face. Okay, okay, don’t panic. He could still get out of this situation. Maybe you didn’t hear what he was doing. Maybe you’d just gotten in here. Maybe you were too naive to even know what those sounds were.

He cleared his throat again, “How, uh, how long have you been waiting for?” He tried his hardest to sound apologetic for making you wait.

A moment of silence. Then you replied, “Long enough.”

That voice. He knew that voice, didn’t he?

He said your name out loud. A pause then, “Is it you?” He asked.

A sigh. Then, “Yes, Father.”

Ah. He let out a quiet breath, relieved.

He had no reason to worry if it was you. You were what he called a lost little lamb, too innocent for her own good. He knew your family. They were nice people who frequented the church, and lately your parents had been worried about you since they found out that you had a troublesome boyfriend who was nowhere near the god-fearing type your family wanted you to date.

He also knew that you, unlike your parents, were not seen very often at church. He saw you here and there, sometimes at charity events, or sometimes at the tennis court with your mom. But never in the confessional booth.

Father Charlie sat up straight, looked ahead at the wooden door and asked, “This is your first confession?”

“Yes, Father.”

“And what would you like to confess?” He asked, knowing he was going about this all wrong. No signs of the cross, no ‘Bless me Father for I have sinned’, but he was impatient and… intrigued. What could a shy, timid girl like you have to confess?

“I… I slept with my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t help but turn towards the screen. He watched you as you fidgeted and squirmed. “Did you?” He didn’t recognise his own voice.

“Yes, Father.” You answered. “But that’s not all.”

“Oh?”

A trembled sigh left your lips, then you said, “While we were, um, when he was...” You struggled to speak.

And Father Charlie felt weirdly interested all of a sudden, so he urged, “It’s okay, you’re safe here.” He cooed gently, using the soothing voice he always used with everyone. “Use your big girl words, come on. When he was, what?”

“Father, I cannot say it.” Your words sounded heavy with shame.

So he urged you even further, “Like I said, you’re safe here. Now tell me. When he was, what? On top of you? Fucking you? What happened, did he hurt you?”

“No,” You said quickly. “No, he was… gentle.”

Father Charlie raised an eyebrow, “And?”

You let out a shaky breath and confessed, “I wanted him to…” You trailed off, “I know it’s wrong to want these kinds of things, but I didn’t want him to be gentle. I wanted him to be rough. To make it hurt.”

Another shaky breath left your lips, and this time Father Charlie felt like he was the tormented one. He frowned as he looked down and noticed that he was hard again. Shit.

He cleared his throat again. “I see.”

But you were quick to add, “It’s wrong, isn’t it? To want things like that? Isn’t it, Father?”

There was a strangely innocent desperation in your voice even as you referred to sinful things. The kind of innocence he wanted to take into his hands and crumble it into pieces but also preserve it at the same time.

Fuck, he was hard. And it was painful because you were right there.

“Depends,” He answered, “What other things do you find yourself wanting?” A small, quiet gasp left your mouth. Father Charlie caught himself smirking at the sound of it. “And don’t lie. I can’t help you if you lie.” He noticed movement on the other side of the screen. Maybe your hand touching your neck out of nervousness.

“I… I like being told what to do. I like authority. I like…,” You gasped, as if not believing you were actually saying all this out loud, “I like it, I mean I like the idea of men being mean to me, in bed. I want them to take what they want from me, with consent of course. But I don’t want them to be gentle about it.”

Oh fuck.

“That’s, uh…” He found himself at a loss for words. His cock was making his trousers tighter. His hands were shaking with the need to grab and feel a warm body. Preferably that of a shy young woman who thought she should be ashamed of her desires. “Yes, that’s not right.” He did his best to sound stern and disappointed.

A soft sound came from the other side. Sounding a lot like a sniffle. “I’m sorry, Father.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I should go.”

It all happened too quickly. The sound of the door opening, the sound of you trying to rush and get out. Before he knew it, he was out of the booth as well and stopping you from leaving. Your wrist in his hand, his chest heaving, tears down your face, a shocked look in your eyes.

“Did I say you could leave?” He asked, looking down at you and noticing the way you didn’t even fight him. Aww, a lost little lamb indeed.

“No.” You whispered, going along with the movement as he walked you backwards until your back hit the nearest wall, beside the booth.

“You’re disobedient,” He noted, “I should punish you for that.”

“Yes,” You mumbled, like you were ready to be punished for your sins.

“Yes, what?” He chided.

“Yes, Father.”

And oh, how he would’ve loved to have you on your knees in front of him. To have his cock in your mouth. To make real tears stream down your face, ruining your makeup. But he didn't have too much time.

He stepped closer, trapping you between the wall and his hard body. He noted the way your eyes remained fixated on his white collar, those teary, innocent eyes. You didn’t even know the treasure you were.

“Look at me,” He ordered.

You did. Unable to look away once you did.

“You’ve been a bad girl, you know that, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded at him. “And I need to punish you, because I need to make sure you’re good from now on, don’t I?” You nodded at his words again. “Good,” He whispered, then grabbed both your hands and placed them on his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours.

He fucking that little gasp of surprise that left your mouth as he kissed you, hot and messy. His hands reached down and bunched your dress up before he slipped his hand in between your legs.

He chuckled into the kiss when he felt your flimsy underwear. “See now, good girls don’t wear things like this. You understand?” He whispered, running his knuckles along your wet folds and smearing your arousal around through the thin fabric. “I’m gonna have to take it off, okay?”

You nodded again.

And he did, he slid your underwear down until it fell to your ankles. He watched as you stepped out of them and he immediately slid his knee in between your legs, followed by his hand again. “This is all part of your punishment,” He whispered into your ear, and watched how you shivered upon feeling his warm breath. He slipped his two fingers into you with ease and smirked against your skin as he felt your arousal coating his fingers, which he curled inside of you, hitting all the spots which made you gasp and moan.

You whimpered and closed your eyes, sighing and moaning when he leaned down and nibbled on your skin around your throat. He chuckled, sliding his fingers in and out of you, “See what a little slut you are? Cheating on your boyfriend, and letting me touch you however I please,” He scoffed, “Is this what you came to do? Was this your intention?”

You bucked your hips against his hand impatiently. “Please,” You murmured.

He pulled his fingers out, and messed with his belt, undoing it and the zipper on his trousers until he pulled his cock out. “Please what?” He asked, rubbing his wet fingers along his hard cock, “Huh? What do you want?”

You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes.

“Oh?” He taunted, “You want this cock? Huh?” He leaned in and grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke in a lowered voice that sent shivers down your back, “Does this little slut need a cock in her?”

“Yes,” You murmured, unable to take it anymore.

“Yes, what?” He growled.

“Yes, Father.” You quickly corrected yourself.

He smirked, smug. Then he lifted you up until you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your back against the wall, and the two of you partially hidden by the booth. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you moaned out loud.

“Shh,” He reminded you, “Quiet.”

“Please,” You whined, eyes shut. “Please, Father…”

“Shut up,” He hissed as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. “Shut your needy little mouth up.”

You moaned as he pushed himself into you. Stretching you out as he went. His nails digging painfully into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours sliding into his hair as he filled you up nicely.

“So fucking wet for me…” He whispered against your cheek as he rocked in and out of you. “I bet you’re not this wet for your little boyfriend, huh? Does he feel this good? This big?” He chuckled. “Does he know you let random men fuck you?”

You were a mess, moaning and whimpering when he began moving in and out of you. His cock reached places that had you whining out loud.

“Shh,” He hissed again, “Shut up, you little slut. Shut the fuck up.” He groaned as he fucked you. He kept an eye on your surroundings, just in case someone wandered in.

But you kept moaning like crazy so he did the only thing his lust-filled brain could think of, he brought out his soiled handkerchief from earlier and shoved it in your mouth, and slapped his hand over your mouth. “Yeah, that’ll shut your filthy mouth up, huh? Is this what you wanted? Your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you like the needy little whore you are, does he?”

Your moans sounded muffled now, and he fucked you relentlessly, earning more and more muffled whines and moans and whimpers out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. He loved the way your eyes rolled back when he fucked you harder, reaching deeper.

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust. “Filthy girl.” He sped up into you again, making you cry out. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you? You couldn’t help but spread your legs for me, huh? Even for a man of God? You couldn’t help it.” He taunted. “What else would you do for me? Would you come here everyday and let me have you? Hmm? Would you let me fuck your needy little pussy like your boyfriend can’t?”

He knew you couldn’t answer him, so he chuckled and continued as he felt your walls clench around his cock. Fuck, he had missed this. He’d missed making a beautiful girl lose control while he was inside her. He knew you couldn’t think right, he was so fucking deep inside you that all you could do was whine and cry, and let him take what he wanted from you. Which is exactly what he did. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking you harder and faster against the wall.

His hand left your mouth, making sure his handkerchief remained nice and snug in there, and reached down until he wrapped his fingers around your throat, he squeezed just enough to make your eyes widen. “Yes,” He goaded you, “You like that, don’t you? Your messed up little head likes this,” He taunted. “It’s filthy in there, isn’t it? You think about these things at night? When you touch yourself before going to bed? Is this what you’ll be thinking about from now on?”

Your body shuddered, trembling in pleasure. He looked down and noticed the slight cleavage of your sweet little dress. Fuck, he wished he had time to really peel it off your body and have you crawl around naked just so he could look at you. He was sure he could spend a lot of time just looking.

“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” He chuckled, his body moving expertly against yours, “No, how could he? He’s just a boy. He wouldn’t even know what to do with a dirty girl like you.” He leaned in, whispering against your wet cheek, “This is what you needed. I’m what you need.”

Your mind was a foggy mess already, and he could tell by the muffled by wanton moans that he could still hear that you were so, so close.

“I bet he doesn’t even come inside you, does he?” He scoffed, “I think he’d be too scared to do that.” He pulled away and looked into your eyes. “But you want me to come inside you, don’t you? Remember, it’s all part of your punishment. You wanna be a good girl and take all of it, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly, more tears streaming down your face.

“Go on then, you little slut. Come for me. Come all over this cock like the needy, desperate whore you are.” He let out a strained moan, “I said,” He spoke, menacingly, “Come for me!”

Your body tensed up, legs tightening around his waist, hands tugging at his hair, before you let go and came undone around his cock. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching his neck and a loud muffled moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard.

Father Charlie groaned as he came shortly after, spilling inside of you. And fuck, even he could feel how much he filled you up.

He pulled the now wet cloth out of your mouth as you both felt his warm cum dripping down your inner thighs. He replaced the handkerchief with his fingers, gliding two of them across your tongue, in and out of your lips as he said, “You’ll come back, won’t you?” He whispered against the corner of your mouth as you caught your breath while sucking on his fingers. “Now that you got a taste of what it’s like, you’ll be back as often as you can just to let me fuck you again. Won’t you, little lamb?”

—

a/n: call me sister megan bc i’m frothing–

#grotesquerie #father charlie mayhew #father charlie x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #charlie mayhew smut

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obsesssedblerd · 1 month ago

Note

HI BBY HRU MAKE SURE TO DRINK WATER TODAY AND GET A GOOD NIGHTS REST YOU DESERFE IT XOXO

if there’s too many asks going on feel free to skip over mine but I was thinking 5 + Nanami? Xoxo

prompt #5: “Your ex never got you off?”

pairing: kento nanami x f! reader

[18+ content below, MDNI]

contains: smut, cunninglingus, vaginal fingering, reader receiving oral for the first time

wc: 2k

likes, reblogs and comments appreciated <3

a/n: seven of you requested this pairing omg.

— — — — — —

Kento Nanami stares at you incredulously, and it reminds you of the way he looks at Satoru Gojo and Yuuji Itadori whenever they say something that’s a bit more on the sillier side. You look away, but you feel his fingers angle your jaw so your eyes are meeting his honey brown ones once more.

“Your ex… never got you off.” He repeats your words back to you slowly.

“I know it sounds crazy, since we dated for a while, but yeah.” You laugh nervously. You bring the champagne glass to your lips, then tip your head back, allowing the chilly liquid to slide down your throat. “He tried, and it couldn’t work. He mentioned something about how some women just can’t cum, so we both assumed that it’s the case for me. I remember—”

Kento puts a finger to your lips, and you stop talking. He’s still staring, but this time, you can see the calculating—the plotting in his eyes. “Respectfully,” he says, his voice low. “Your ex is an idiot. I’m confident that he hardly tried at all.”

You raise an eyebrow, and you shift yourself in the couch cushions to sit straighter. “I don’t think he’s an idiot, he was just…” You sigh as you trail off, unable to find anything polite to say about your ex-boyfriend. It was impossible, since he cheated on you. “I don’t know. Anyway, he definitely tried. Numerous positions, but nothing. It’s just something I’m unable to do.”

He finishes the rest of his champagne before placing the empty glass on the living room table. He props an arm up on the back of the couch, then uses it to support his head. He’s still staring, still thinking. With his glasses and tie off, and the first few buttons of his blue dress shirt undone, your coworker looks even more handsome in this comfortable state.

Kento inhales, then releases his breath. Slowly, he unclasps the expensive watch from his wrist and looks down at it. He remains like that for about fifteen seconds before you ask him, “What are you doing?”

“Going to test something.”

“Test something like…?” You urge him to finish.

He gently places the watch on the table next to the empty glass, then offers to take your empty glass as well. He leans towards you, and your heart pounds when his hand delicately strokes your cheek. The faint scent of his cologne fills your nose. His face nears yours, your eyes flicker to his mouth before fluttering shut.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers against your lips, and you nod once before you feel his lips on yours. The kiss is gentle at first, but after wanting him for so long, you immediately grow hungry for more. You find yourself climbing on top of his lap, and he guides you there without breaking the passionate kiss, his large hands settling comfortably on your hips.

You sigh blissfully into his mouth, and you feel your body heat up. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you savor every second and every feeling that this moment brings you. Months of keeping each other safe on missions, soft stares as you trade students for training and quiet conversations over coffee in the breakroom before meetings have all led to this.

When he gently breaks away from you, both of you are slightly out of breath. His gaze settles hungrily on your low-cut top, and his fingers skim the hem of it. “May I?” He asks quietly.

“Yes.”

Kento isn’t fast; no, after craving you for many months, he has zero desire to rush any of this. His thumb brushes against the skin underneath your shirt briefly, then he grasps the hem of it, and pulls upward until it’s completely off of you, leaving you in your bra. Suddenly shy, you look away. You don’t know why you’re nervous; you’ve had sex before. You know what happens during sex.

However, you don’t know how Kento Nanami operates. His kisses alone tell you that he’s nothing like your ex-boyfriend in the bedroom.

“Hey.”

His voice pulls you out of your mind, and you look back at him. He gives you a dizzyingly charming smile, his cheeks slightly flushed from champagne and want. “You’re beautiful.” He brings you closer and pecks your lips a few more times, then moves to your neck. “I’d like to taste you,” he whispers, and your breath hitches as he kisses the delicate skin beneath your ear. “Is that alright?”

You swallow thickly, and you manage to find some of your words. “Taste? I-I’ve never- No one has ever done that.”

Kento hums as he pulls away, the corner of his mouth slightly lifting. “Your ex never went down on you?”

You gently shake your head, and he exhales. “Disappointing, but not surprising.” One of his fingers fidget with one of the belt loops on your jeans, seeking permission. When you grant it with a single nod, he whispers to you once more. “Lie back for me.”

He waits for you to lay down on the couch, and then climbs above you, caging you between his strong arms. He kisses you again, then begins to move lower, allowing his lips to explore your body, goosebumps on your flesh as they do. He carefully pushes your bra upward, and your head spins slightly when you feel his mouth wrap around one of your nipples. Large hands cup your tits as he sucks, massaging and gently squeezing. You release a sound that is something between a moan and a sigh, and Kento loves it.

He takes his time, sliding lower and lower until he’s finally on his knees before you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down your legs. Heat rises to your face, and you look towards the couch cushion, too shy to see his reaction when he finds out just how wet you are. You know that there’s a damp spot on your panties. Your knees are pushed apart, revealing the most sensitive part of you. His fingers hook your lacy panties, then peels them down your thighs and calves, leaving you bare for him. “God,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. You look down at him again, and arousal pools in your stomach at the utter hunger in his eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he sighs again, and you exhale shakily when he kisses a particularly sensitive part of your inner thigh. “So, so beautiful.”

Over the next few minutes, you learn that Kento Nanami is a teaser. His lips are everywhere except your aching pussy, which you’re certain is dripping messily onto the couch. You’ve never felt this wet, so needy to the point you’re whining out his name, spreading your legs just a bit more for him. “Please,” you whisper.

His thumb slides around the outer lips of your pussy, applying just enough pressure to tease your clit—where he knows you’re aching the most. So soft, he thinks to himself. Soft and very wet. There’s no way her ex is so stupid—so selfish that he’d pass up the opportunity to taste her.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he quietly tells you, like a teacher softly instructing his student. “There’s no need to rush this. I promise, I’ll give you what you need.”

Once he’s certain that no parts of your delicate thighs are unkissed, his lips inch towards your core. His tongue licks slow, vertical stripes. “Ohhhhh,” you gasp, every thought draining from your mind as your head falls back against the cushions. “Oh, my g-god, Kento…” He’d just begun, but you easily decide that his firm tongue against your pussy is the most incredible thing you’ve ever felt in your life.

Kento releases a deep groan, obsessed with the way you taste and the sounds you make. His tongue expertly swipes across your folds, teasing you for just a little while longer before he finally gives your clit some attention. You jolt when you feel his lips wrap around your clit and suck a few times, and his hands firmly hold your thighs open so you don’t squirm away from him.

“You can grab my hair if you need to,” he says when he notices your hands palming at the couch cushions. Once your hands grasp his blonde strands, Kento goes back to eating your pussy like a man starved. Your moans are far louder now, any nervousness you felt earlier now completely faded away. You buck your hips when he slides two fingers into your sopping wet core, his tongue still rolling against your clit.

When he sees how your breath is beginning to shorten, how your abdomen gently clenches and how your thighs twitch, he pulls away for a moment to look up at you. “Where my thumb is now,” he starts, using a thumb to rub your swollen clit, “did he spend enough time touching here until you’re trembling like this?”

You meet his eyes, then shake your head. “No.”

“Then he didn’t try.”

Inside of your pussy, his fingers curl upward and you nearly shriek when he begins to massage a weak spot within you, pleasure zipping through you with every movement. “And here?” He asks you again, his fingers unrelenting. “Did he ever find this spot of yours and touch it the way I am now? Even when he fucked you?”

When you struggle to answer, he adds a bit more pressure, and your back arches off of the cushion. “Ahh! N-No, he didn’t!”

“Then he didn’t try.” He reiterates a bit sharper. “Still believe he’s not an idiot?”

You shake your head, and his rough palms spread you open a bit wider. “I want you to relax for me. When you feel it, and you’ll know what it feels like, don’t tense up. Breathe through it,” he tells you, the bass in his voice vibrating against your thigh before he tenderly kisses it.

You nod, and his mouth is on you once more, licking, sucking, devouring you. His fingers continuously stroke that weak spot, and the combination has you breathing hard. Your hands grip his hair tighter, and you buck your hips against his face, instinctively chasing something you’ve never had before—a release of the pressure building in your body.

Nearly there, Kento thinks to himself.

You gasp and attempt to slither away, suddenly nervous about the intensity about the impending orgasm, but he grips you tight to keep you still. “Oh my goddd,” you whine, and he feels you begin to tighten on his fingers.

That’s it.

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you try to do what he told you earlier and focus on your breathing. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, K-Kento…!” You cry out his name in warning, and he hums against your clit, encouraging you.

Cum for me.

When you climax, you feel like you drown in pleasure. You sob in relief as you grind against Kento’s face, and he licks and fingerfucks you all the way through it, savoring the sweetness of the juices that flow from your pussy. Once you’re finished and your body relaxes, he lifts his head from between your legs, his chin glistening with the evidence of your orgasm.

He reaches for his watch that he placed on the table, his eyes glimmering with approval as he checks the time. “Twenty-two minutes.”

“H-Huh?” You ask, trying to focus even though your mind still spins.

“From the first time I kissed you until now, it took twenty-two minutes to make you cum,” he says, leaning forward to place a kiss on your navel. “Your ex spent so much time in your presence and in your bed, but he couldn’t put aside twenty-two minutes to make you feel good. Truly a selfish idiot. As you can see, you can orgasm,” he says quietly, then brings himself back up to you, your faces nearly touching. “You just needed a competent partner.”

He kisses you again, and you moan as you taste yourself on his lips. Your hands begin fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, eager to have and feel more of him. “Want more,” you sigh in between kisses. “Want you.”

“Good,” Kento smiles as he assists you in unbuttoning his shirt. “Because I’m dying to see how fast I can get you to cum on my cock.”

#nanami smut #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami imagine #kento nanami x reader #nanami x fem!reader #nanami x reader smut #jjk smut #written by rey <3 #jjk smut fic #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk fic

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iamgonnagetyouback · 1 month ago

Text

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄…?

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Tooth rotting fluff, James being an oblivious idiot

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: oblivious!James Potter x fem!reader

James Potter had been in a mood all day, sulking in the corner of his dorm, chin resting on his knees as he stared dramatically at the wall. His glasses were askew, hair even messier than usual, and the sighs he kept releasing were loud enough to echo in the stone room.

“James, you’ve got to stop,” Remus said from his bed, flipping the page of his book. "It's exhausting just watching you."

James let out another exaggerated sigh, flopping onto his back, staring at the ceiling now. “Y/N used to call me James,” he said in a low, defeated voice.

Sirius, perched on his own bed, raised an eyebrow and looked at Remus, baffled. "Mate," he said flatly, "that's because it’s your fucking name."

James groaned, as if Sirius had physically slapped him with that reminder. "But now she’s going on a date… with someone else.” His voice broke at the end, his hand dramatically placed over his heart like he was on the verge of tears.

Remus, looking for the quickest way out of this melodramatic spiral, rolled his eyes. “You don’t even know who the date is with.”

“And that,” James sat up again, his hair sticking up like he’d been struck by lightning, “is the worst part! It could be anyone. Maybe that bloke from Ravenclaw with the fancy broom. Or worse, Snivellus.”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Snivellus? Dating Y/n? You’ve lost it, Prongs.”

Just then, there was a knock on the dorm door. Before James could collapse back into his theatrics, Peter jumped up to answer it. “I’ve got it!”

He pulled the door open, and there you stood, dressed up and looking absolutely stunning. Peter's jaw dropped, Remus immediately smiled, and Sirius gave a low whistle.

“You look amazing, darling!” Sirius grinned, eyeing James, who had turned his back to the door the second Peter opened it.

You smiled at them, giving a small twirl. "Thanks, boys!" Then, you glanced at James, who's now dramatically slumped against the headboard. “James, are you ready to go?”

James stiffened, eyes wide behind his glasses. “Ready?” He didn’t turn around, muttering, “Why would I be ready? I’m not going to third wheel on your date.” His voice cracked at ‘date,’ and you blinked, totally confused.

“What are you talking about, James?” you asked, giggling. “You are my date.”

That got his attention.

James scrambled to turn around, almost toppling off the bed. “Wait—what? Me? How? When?”

You tilted your head, laughing softly. “Yesterday, I asked if you wanted to go on a date with me, and you said yes.”

James blinked at you, utterly confused. He slowly turned to Remus, who gave him a look that said ‘You absolute idiot.’ Then, to Sirius, who rolled his eyes, and finally to Peter, who gave him an encouraging thumbs-up.

Realization hit him like a bludger to the head. “You weren’t joking?” he asked in disbelief, his face turning bright red.

You raised an eyebrow, still amused. “No, James, I wasn’t joking. Did you really think I was asking someone else?”

James jumped up so fast, he nearly tripped over his own feet. “Oh Merlin’s beard,” he muttered, rushing toward the door. “Give me two seconds, I—uh—just—hold on!”

He slammed the door in your face before you could even react.

You blinked at the wood in front of you, completely baffled. “Did he… just shut the door?”

Inside, James was rushing around like a madman, pulling off his shirt, rummaging through his trunk, grabbing a new one, throwing things around in the chaos. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!” he shouted at no one in particular, though it was probably aimed at Remus and Sirius.

“We did, mate,” Sirius snickered. “You just didn’t listen.”

James finally yanked on a half-decent shirt, and in his frantic haste, he opened the door, nearly knocking you over. He grabbed your hand, pulled you inside the dorm, and then he bolted out, closing the door behind him.

You were now standing alone in the middle of the boys' dorm, looking completely confused while the three Marauders tried and failed to stifle their laughter. Sirius doubled over, clutching his stomach.

“James… you’re killing me,” Remus wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye.

You glanced at them with a raised brow. “Is he always like this?”

“Only when he’s madly in love,” Peter grinned.

Before you could respond, there was another knock. The door creaked open, and there stood James, leaning against the doorframe, slightly out of breath, hair still a mess. His cheeks were bright red, and he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, voice soft and sincere, his eyes wide with awe.

You couldn’t help but smile at his flustered, dorky charm. “Took you long enough to notice,” you teased, and he chuckled sheepishly.

Sirius called out, “Don’t leave her waiting again, Prongs!”

James held out his arm, and you gladly took it, flashing a playful grin at the other boys before the two of you headed out the door.

Sirius gave a final, dramatic sigh from behind you. "Our boy's growing up."

Remus just shook his head, laughing.

#james potter x reader #james potter #james fleamont potter #james potter fluff #tooth rotting fluff

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hoshigray · 4 months ago

Note

suguru and choso making the reader squirt for the first time via reader receiving oral... please and thank u sm hoshibutt 👅

၇͜ᩘ𑁍 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - breast fondling + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - first time squirting! - pet names (baby, cutie, good girl, sweetie) - reader is a bit self-conscious - mention of saliva.

“How is it, baby? Feeling good?”

“A-Ahh…y-yesss, feels good…Mmmm, so good.”

“Ya hear that, Choso? Keep doing what you’re doing!”

You throw your head back to Geto’s shoulder, who’s stationed behind you, his hands nestled inside your shirt to grope your chest. Meanwhile, Choso kneels on the floor, the pony-tailed man going to town between your legs.

It was meant to be a typical date, spending the afternoon in your boyfriends’ apartment. You could’ve sworn that today entailed some delicious slices of local pizza, video games, and an action movie. However, you might have guessed somewhere down the line that the two men would eventually derail their attention from the television screen into a film of their own…

All three of you were in the living room, your back glued to the front of Geto’s red flannel shirt. The long raven-haired man’s hands fondle your chest lovingly while Choso feasts on your cunt, wet with his saliva lathering your folds with his tongue. He holds your legs apart so the focus on your chasm is easier to maintain.

You screw your eyebrows together at the flick of your clitoris by the wet muscle. “Ohhh, ohhh…!”

“Making cute noises for us, cutie?” Geto kisses your cheek and tweaks your nipples pleasantly. “Your nipples are getting stiff, too.”

Choso sucks your essence after spitting on your labia, flinging his tongue around to gather as much of your taste as he can. He then peers up to see that Geto has lifted your shirt, exposing your chest to the open. He swallows thickly and removes his lips from your vulva, bringing his lips to capture one of the buds of your mounds. You mewl at the contact of his tongue, now swirling around your nipple as he sucks sluggishly.

“Heh, must taste good everywhere, huh?” Geto doesn’t expect an answer from Choso sucking on your tit. Instead, he coats his middle and ring finger with his saliva and travels them down to your folds, pushing them inside with ease and immediately wriggling them around to feel your gummy texture.

You cry out at the insertion, his digits going faster after a few jagged pushes and pulls. He dwells them further, scraping your insides with his blunt fingertips. And the pace becomes frantic, digging them knuckle-deep at a fast rhythm that has you gripping on Choso’s black tee for support.

“Gaaahhh, w-wait, slow down!” You’re wailing in pleads. There’s too much going on: Choso sucking on your tit relentlessly, pushing your nipple to the top of his mouth, and grazing it with his teeth. And Geto, playing with the other mound while he pleases you with vaginal stimulation. “N-Naaahh, Christ, wait!” Your body wishes to jerk, but your legs are pushed to your chest, leaving your lower half squirming to no end. Something’s coming! “I-I caann’t—Dahaahh!”

Geto’s sporadic movements have you whining until he removes them to lick, and Choso releases your nipple to return to your vulva, sucking on your clit and lapping around your urethra and inner lips. Shivers rock your core, and you–unforsakenly–let loose.

Between your legs, you unleash a clear, watery substance, ejecting it into Choso’s mouth. It takes him aback, tilting back to let the liquid spray slightly. However, he returns to lick the glands after a moment, secreting the surprising liquid that still exudes from your system and leaves a watery mess everywhere. Until it stops, it sprinkles all over your inner thighs and surely wets the giver’s shirt.

Violet eyes ventured down and witnessed the entire scene. “Oh, woah!”Three figures stay frigid for a few seconds, assessing what occurred within the past ten seconds. “…I had no idea you were a squirter.”

“Same here,” Choso agrees, licking his lips and wiping his cheeks with his shirt after straightening himself.

“Neither did…I?” You blink, a little too shocked to move. “I-…I’m sorry, I made your clothes wet!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Geto’s hands leave your chest and come to your inner thighs to massage. “It’s normal.”

“N-No, really, though; I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I could even do that; it went in your mouth, and I probably ruined this whole—“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Choso palms your cunt to smear the substance you squirted. “That was…pretty fucking hot.”You open your lips to rebuttal, yet impossible as they stun you. The pig-tailed man takes off his shirt and slides his jeans down to his knees, and your breath hitches at his long cock springing out from his bowers.

“Yeah, it was,” Geto chimes in while the other takes a seat next to him and takes you by the hand. “I’m kinda curious if you can do that again now.”

Awkwardness still has you by the neck, but Choso coaxes you while massaging your ass, sneaking his finger inside to finger. “Mmmph…You–Are you sure?”

“Totally,” Geto chuckles as he stands and strips his flannel shirt. His arms are now out from the white tank top. “Can’t let this opportunity go to waste, right?”

“C’mere, sweetie,” Choso guides you by the waist, the glans of his erect cock pushing onto the entrance of your asshole. You gasp sharply once you feel him add himself, leisurely bringing your ass down to sit on him. After a few seconds of a few bounces on his dick, Geto brings your legs for Choso to hold so your wet slit is out for his vision.

Geto licks his fingers with a dark snicker. “Stay just like that,” the digits skim around your labia until they’re pushed inside.

You jolt with a shriek, Choso right there to soothe you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Good girl.”

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sweetteainthesummerx · 4 months ago

Text

wrapped 'round my finger !

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

pairings: quinn hughes x best friend!reader, quinn x sunshine!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff, smut, fem!reader is described as smaller (shorter?), and swearing.

summary: you're the sweetest thing on planet earth, but you have terrible taste in guys. however, you've got the captain of the canucks wrapped around your pinky. too bad you don't see him that way...right?

trope: best friends to lovers, idiots in love, grumpy x sunshine, whipped boyfriend

word count: 1.3 k

notes: princess treatment is WHAT EVERY GIRL DESERVES!! also I just love quinn hughes :) happy reading!!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

bsf! quinn hughes who absolutely is wrapped around your finger. he loves you so freaking much and he's so in love with you it's all over his face. bo and millsy take turns making fun of him, while petey watches his lovelorn expression with a teasing grin.

bsf! quinn hughes who treats you like a princess: he's always giving you his jacket when you pout because you're cold, even though he already told you to bring a sweater. he's always opening doors, cans of soda before he hands it to you. he grumbles when you flutter your eyelashes at him, but flushes pink anyways and does what you want.

bsf! quinn hughes who doesn't let you lift a finger when you're together. he does everything for you, because you deserve to be taken care of.

bsf! quinn hughes who has to watch you date guy after guy, something sour and heated twisting in his chest because they can't treat you right like he does.

bsf! quinn hughes who finally confesses his love for you after you complain about a guy who left you at the restaurant to pick up a package during your date, because he's so fucking fed up with you being unhappy and the fact he can't kiss you like wants to.

bsf! quinn hughes who kisses you hard and rough as you whine into his mouth and clutch at his shirt while he grips your hips hard enough to leave a bruise.

bsf! quinn hughes who doesn't let you go, instead picking you up and (gently) tossing you on the bed. he crawls up to lick into your mouth one more time before going down on you.

bsf! quinn hughes who's totally a munch, but only for you. he keeps going even after you cum all over his face twice. you're grinding against his nose, as he murmurs "just one more". you're all teary and fucked out, but he pulls two more orgasms from you: one with his fingers and the other with you canting you hips on his thigh.

bsf! quinn hughes who groans and throws his head back when he finally pushes himself into your heat, after you tell him you're on the pill. you feel so much better than his hand during roadies where he moans your name to find release. you claw at his back, grabbing at his biceps as you call his name. he wants to swallow you whole.

bsf! quinn hughes who has dreamed of you on your back in his sheets, your manicured nails scraping his scalp as he ruts into you. the pleasure is almost unbearable, and he shudders all over. he has one forearm above your head to hold his weight, the other pressed on your belly where he can feel himself moving within you.

bsf! quinn hughes who marks up your neck as you whimper and mewl at the overstimulation, trying to wiggle away. he mouths at your pulse, relishing in the way it thumps loud and fast.

bsf! quinn hughes who grunts and almost comes when you lock your legs around his waist, whining for him to fuck you harder. he grabs your chin so you can watch as he lifts one of your knees over his shoulder, both of you rolling your eyes back at the new angle.

bsf! quinn hughes who is enraptured as you come on his cock, crying and pulling him close. he murmurs, "good job, baby. that's it. ride it out". you finally settle down as he rides out your high as long as possible.

bsf! quinn hughes who is still incredibly hard and pent up, but your hole is too sensitive. he's ready to take himself in his hand, except you flip yourself over onto your tummy, tucking your chin over you shoulder with your ass in the air, all tired bedroom eyes and mussed hair. he tells you you're perfect as he fulfills another of his wet dreams. he makes a mess of you, and presses his lips to your spine as he finally releases.

bsf! quinn hughes who holds you close in the shower, as you give slow, languid kisses to his chest.

bsf! quinn hughes who asks you shyly to be his as he cuddles you to sleep from behind. you tell him yes, flipping to shove your face into his neck, hiding your massive grin. he smiles: he finally got the girl.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

bf! quinn hughes who is way more publicly affectionate with you than anyone has seen him be, especially after you guys finally get together.

bf! quinn hughes who becomes so clingy that even his brothers cringe at the way he becomes an absolute baby when you enter the room.

bf! quinn hughes who loves being cooed and fussed over. he loves when you feed him after a long game, eating straight from your fingers as he leans back on the headboard of your shared bed as you sit on his lap, pushing bites of food past his lips.

bf! quinn hughes who is so proudly a loverboy. he always has to have a hand on your back, an arm around your waist or shoulder. petey jokes that his eyes are practically magnetic to you.

bf! quinn hughes who's not that tall - especially since he's surrounded by other bigger hockey players - but you make him feel like the biggest man in the world. you always tuck your tiny hand into the crook of his elbow, clinging to his bicep as the two of you walk in public. he loves how you need to tiptoe and tug him down to kiss him, despite the neck pain.

bf! quinn hughes who loves to toss you around like a ragdoll, safely, of course. he loves to manhandle you: throwing you over his shoulder playfully and slapping your ass as you shriek, swatting his broad back. he picks you up like you weigh nothing to plop you down on the counter to hear you yap as he makes breakfast. you climb him like a tree when there's a spider in your en suite bathroom.

bf! quinn hughes who loves seeing you wear his clothes, because you look so cute drowning in his hoodies. his favourite thing to come back home to is you wrapped up in one of his jersey's - a warm flush pleasant over his skin because you're wearing his last name so proudly - and a home cooked meal after a hard game.

bf! quinn hughes loves to make you laugh, and will talk hours with you even though he has a hard time opening up to anyone else. he also loves listening to you talk, because you're just so kind and good to everyone, and it shows through the loving way you speak.

bf! quinn hughes who loves when you compliment him. a "good job, quinny. you played real good today", or a "thank you for dinner, baby" or even "please don't shave your playoff beard! you look so handsome" gets him all hot and bothered.

bf! quinn hughes who for sure has a captain kink. it's a heat of the moment thing for you, when he's got his face tucked into your neck as he grinds down into you, and you mewl his name along with his title. he stops, and you slap a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. he tugs it off, teeth scraping at your jaw as he tells you to say it again.

bf! quinn hughes who is bossy - in bed and out - and you love it. you love when he tells you to dress nice for a date to your favourite restaurant, who orders your food for you because he already knows what you want, who tells you to buy something pretty with his credit card because he can spoil you that way.

bf! quinn hughes who just loves you so much!!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

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futurewdclandonorris · 5 months ago

Text

Man or Machine | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: after you leave your date unsatisfied, you return to your apartment thinking you'll once again have to take care of yourself on your own when your roommate catches you and offers you a better solution, himself

Warnings: smut

Word count: 8.4k

The flickering street lights cast long shadows as you trudged up the stairs to your apartment, the echo of your footsteps punctuated by the sigh of defeat escaping your lips. The date hadn't gone as well as you’d hoped. In fact, it had been a complete disaster.

The guy was handsome enough, but once you met in person, there had been no chemistry between you. And when it came down to it, the sex was mediocre at best. You cringed at yourself as you unlocked your apartment door and stepped inside, feeling a sense of frustration and self pity.

“You’re back early,” your roommate munched from the couch.

You had been looking forward to your date for weeks, imagining all the ways how it would be different from your usual nights spent pleasuring yourself. But as always, reality has fallen short of your expectations.

“Am I?” you sighed and ran a hand through your messy hair. Maybe you were just doomed to a life of unsatisfying hookups and lonely nights. Maybe you were just bad at this whole dating thing.

“How was the date?” he asked as if he didn’t even hear your previous input, putting chips in his mouth.

“Good.” You glanced at him from the hallway, sprawled on the couch of your shared living room with a bag of chips resting casually on his belly.

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows like that was brand new information.

You kicked off your shoes and made your way past him. “So good I couldn’t wait to come home and tell you all about it,” you replied sarcastically, mustering a half-hearted grin as you made your way to the kitchen. The cool light from the refrigerator washed over you as you rummaged through its contents, searching for something to numb the ache of your failed evening.

“Well,” he began with a mouthful. “At least you’re consistent.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Lando.” You rolled your eyes as you closed the fridge after not finding anything that caught your interest.

"Hey, don't mention it," Lando said, his voice laced with amusement. You couldn't help but smile at his attempt to cheer you up, even if it fell short of its mark.

His nonchalant demeanor irked you, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions raging inside of you, only intensifying the need for release you were so yearning for. A twinge of jealousy couldn't be avoided at his laid-back attitude towards life. As if everything were so simple for him, as if he had never experienced the bitter taste of disappointment that now lingered in your mouth.

“Any plans for the rest of the evening?”

“No, I think I’m just going to shower and head to bed.” Not.

You needed to do something about yourself, and you needed to do it fast. Lando only shrugged, his attention already back on the television as you retreated to your room.

And once again, you stood in your bedroom, alone and preparing to take matters into your own hands. You stripped down from your outfit and changed into a baggy t-shirt that almost reached your knees. You turned to your dresser and opened the first drawer, reaching for the familiar object hidden amongst your clothes. The soft hum of the vibrator greeted you as you pulled it out, its sleek surface cool against your skin. You took a deep breath in, getting ready to put it into use when the door of your room suddenly swung open.

“Hey, I’m making a little something for me and I saw you checking the fridge—Is everything alright?” Lando questioned when he saw you spin around so quickly that you knocked some of your belongings off the dresser while doing so, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah!” your voice unintentionally came out a bit higher pitched than intended, your right hand holding the toy firmly behind your back. “You just startled me, that’s all.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your flustered response. His gaze flickered from your flushed face to the items strewn across the floor. “Uhm, okay. As I was saying, I’m making a little snack for myself so I was wondering would you like some as well?”

“No, I’m fine,” you replied, gripping the vibrator so strongly as if you were trying to crush it and make it disappear. Food was the last thing on your mind, your desire for something far more urgent and primal consuming your every thought. You could see the curiosity in Lando’s eyes, a glint of suspicion dancing in their depths.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, taking in your disheveled appearance and the way you were trying to conceal something behind your back.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, taking a step into your room. His eyes flicked to the item still hidden behind your back and he arched an eyebrow. “What’s that behind your back?”

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of shame and panic rising within you. Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. How could you explain this to him? How could you possibly articulate the overwhelming need that drove you to seek solace in the buzzing vibrations of your trusty toy?

“Nothing!”

Lando’s eyes narrowed at you. “Nothing, huh?” he repeated, taking another step forward. Despite the cool hum of the vibrator still buzzing softly in your grip, you tried to muster up a convincing smile. But Lando wasn't buying it this time. He was always good at reading you, even when you didn't want to be read.

"I... It's nothing, Lando," you stammered, a blush creeping up your neck. "Just... personal stuff."

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he took another step closer, his gaze flicking to your hand that gripped the object tightly.

"Personal stuff, huh?" he repeated, his smirk growing into a full-fledged grin. His eyes held a mischievous glint that made your stomach twist with a combination of nerves and something else you couldn't quite place. You were so sure he was going to tease you mercilessly, to make you feel even more embarrassed and exposed than you already did.

“Come on, just show me,” he said gently, his voice turning soft and understanding. Reluctantly, you slowly brought your hand out from behind your back, revealing the sleek toy that had been your source of comfort and release for so many lonely nights.

Lando's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a mixture of shock and amusement flashing across his features. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence hanging heavy in the air as you braced yourself for his reaction.

"Oh wow, I thought I'd seen everything. So that’s how you spend your free evening," he chuckled. “That bad, huh?”

You couldn't help but feel a surge of embarrassment at the situation, standing there exposed with your secret pleasure in plain sight. Lando's reaction was not what you had expected; his laughter disarmed the tension that had been coiled tight within you. A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you felt the pressure on your shoulders start to lessen, realizing the ridiculousness of the situation.

“I-I... Yeah…” you stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent sentence to explain yourself. The vibrator still buzzed softly in your hand, a stark reminder of your failed attempts at finding satisfaction elsewhere.

“Want to… talk about it?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond to Lando’s unexpected offer. Opening up about your intimate struggles was the last thing you had planned for that night, especially to your roommate, who you had never discussed such personal matters with before. But something in the way he looked at you made you reconsider.

“I mean, it just wasn’t satisfactory… enough.” you confessed.

“Wait, did he even make you cum?” he blurted out, a look of shock and mock anger crossing his face.

His boldness was so amusing, it made you laugh. “He did, once. But I wanted… more. But he couldn’t…” Your voice died out, leaving you at a loss for words to convey the odd combination of longing and disappointment you felt.

“God, I don’t know what’s worse: leaving your girl unsatisfied or not satisfying her enough. Even if he couldn’t fuck you there were still many ways he could’ve pleased you. But he didn’t, did he? And now you’re stuck doing it yourself.” Lando pointed out disapprovingly.

“It’s not the first time, honestly,” you wish you bit your tongue cause only when the words left your mouth, you realized the admittance didn't make the situation any better at all.

“No? How many times have you done this?”

“Too many too count,” you sighed.

“You want to tell me that every time you would return home you would go to your room and do… this?” Lando asked, gesturing towards the vibrator.

You nodded, feeling ashamed of your confirmation.

“Geez, what kind of guys were you going out with?”

“I guess just guys who didn't know how to make me feel good. They were all so focused on their own… pleasures that they didn't care if I was satisfied or not.” Your voice had a blend of sadness and frustration as you spoke.

“Evidently,” he remarked.

“Yes, so, if you don’t mind, would you kindly leave so I can finally get to it?” You held out the vibrator, your hand shaking slightly at the audacity of your request, and he looked at it thoughtfully.

“Are you serious?” he exclaimed, frowning a little.

“Uh, yeah?” You replied, feeling even more self-conscious.

“Wouldn’t you like something a little more… I don't know, sophisticated?” Lando offered with a smirk.

“What do you mean?” You asked, intrigued by his suggestion.

“I mean, why would you use toys when you have a fully capable man living with you?” His eyes darted from the vibrator clasped in your hand back to your gaze, and he nibbled on his bottom lip with a suggestive hint.

You blinked in surprise and confusion, struggling to process his words. Was he really suggesting you use him, instead of a toy, to satisfy your needs? It was a bold proposition, one that completely caught you off guard.

Lando must’ve seen the wheels spinning in your head because he quickly added, “I mean, if that’s what you really want, I’m willing to help.”

You felt a strange mix of shock, embarrassment, and fascination coursing through your veins. It was such an unexpected request that you honestly didn’t know how to react. On one hand, you were deeply humiliated by the idea of using Lando as a replacement for your vibrator, but on the other hand, there was a tantalizing appeal to the taboo nature of it. And even more so, the idea of having your most intimate needs met by someone you were close to, rather than a cold, unfeeling piece of plastic.

You found yourself looking deep into Lando's eyes, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the unspoken promise of pleasure behind it. For a moment, you thought of all the times you had used the vibrator alone, wishing there was someone to share the experience with. Maybe Lando could give you that.

"I, uh... I didn't think..." You trailed off, unsure of how to respond. The vibrator, now heavy in your hand, felt almost like a burden at that moment. “Uh, okay,” you said finally, the words barely escaping your lips. “Let’s see if you can do better than this.” you shook the toy in front of him.

Lando grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes as he stepped closer to you. “Trust me, I can do much better than that,” he replied confidently, towering over you.

You felt an unexpected surge of lust at his challenge, your heart pounding in anticipation. He was right, there was no comparison between a machine and a living, breathing human being. All the times you had used the vibrator, you had longed for the warmth and intimacy of a real connection. And now, here was Lando, offering himself to you without any reservations.

“Show me what you’ve got then,” you breathed, raising your eyes to meet his.

Lando lifted his hand and dragged his thumb over your mouth. Your lips fell agape following his movement, a silent gasp caught in your throat. His fingers moved down your neck to your chest, then lower and up again, tracing the delicate contours of your skin. Not being able to help yourself, you moaned softly, your eyes fluttering shut as he continued his tour.

It was pathetic, in a way. He barely touched you and you were turning into a puddle underneath him. You couldn’t believe how your body was reacting to his simple touch, how he could make you feel with so little effort.

He got a hold of the side of your face, his firm grip pulling you towards him until there was no space between you. His eyes never left yours, gauging every minute response. Involuntarily, you raised your chin, impatient to close the remaining gap between your lips and his. Lando lowered his head just enough to have his lips hovering over yours, your gesture drawing a slight smirk from him, a devilish little smirk that made your heart skip a beat even more.

Then, with a gentle yet firm pressure, his lips met yours. It was like an explosion of senses, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. The warmth of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the velvety texture of his facial hair, they all fused together to create an unmatched sensory experience.

He pulled away just when you were leaning in for more, making him chuckle. “You won’t need this anymore, darling.” he whispered over your lips, peeling the vibrator from your hand and putting it away.

Your now free hands reached for him and pulled him back in for another kiss, this time more urgently, more passionately, and his tongue pressed against your bottom lip, seeking entry. Your heart raced as you allowed it inside your mouth, tasting him, feeling him.

His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of you, igniting a fire in your every nerve ending. You found yourself shuddering, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Never in your wildest dreams had you thought that this could be possible with a man you lived with, one who you shared meals and chores with. But there he was, passionately kissing and caressing you with an intensity that left you breathless.

You felt his hands slide under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the indent of your navel and the swell of your hips. You arched into his touch, pulling him even closer by the hair, desperate for more and he met you with equal fervor.

His lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses that made you moan softly. “I promise to make this worth your while,” he murmured against your skin, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, drawing him closer, not doubting his promise as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting you thoroughly. Your pulse raced as he began pulling up your shirt, the tips of his fingers skimming over your sides, and you raised your arms for him to take it completely off. You were left only in your panties before him, watching as his eyes darkened as they took in the sight of your naked body, his gaze lingering on the curves and contours of your breasts.

He didn’t say anything, but snaked an arm around your waist and picked you up with ease with his other. Your legs locked around him and he carried you to your bed where he gently laid you down on the soft sheets, his mouth never leaving yours. You were both in a state of heightened arousal, your bodies screaming for each other.

He pulled back slightly, taking in your flushed face and throbbing lips, and a smirk tugged at his lips. Then, his hands began their journey once again and he dipped his head to your neck, nibbling and sucking gently before moving to your chest, sucking and biting your nipples. You moaned as his fingers teased your sensitive buds, his tongue tracing the outline, sending shocks of pleasure one after another.

Your breath hitched as he moved lower, kissing and licking his way down your stomach, his hands sliding down your sides to the waistband of your panties. He tugged at them gently and you lifted your hips to help him take them off, but he pushed you back down again, keeping you there. You reached down to remove them yourself, but Lando stopped you with a firm grip on your hand. You looked up into his eyes, wondering what was going through his mind. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Patience, my dear. I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of this.” His words made your heart skip a beat, and you could feel dampness seeping into your panties. “And with me, you can cum as many times as you want.”

You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement as his hands traced the delicate line of your inner thigh, and you shivered under his touch. With each small movement he was building anticipation, the delay only making you crave his touch more.

He was back on giving his attention to your tits, feeling their weight, squeezing them gently and kissing them all over. You gasped as his teeth scraped lightly over your nipples, feeling your pussy clenching in response. Lando then moved back up, his eyes never leaving yours as he kissed his way up your body, stopping just to lightly bite and suck your collarbone. You arched your back, moaning hard, wanting his lips to be everywhere at once.

“Fuck, Lando, please…” you gasped, your breath short.

He smiled wickedly, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. “Just wait, baby. I’m going to give you everything you want, fulfill your every fantasy and desire.”

His tongue darted out to lick your nipples, one by one, your breath stopping in your throat as he did so. He attached his lips to one of your erect nipples, gently biting it while trailing his fingers between your legs. You trembled in his grip, your core aching for his touch, your desire growing more intense with each passing moment.

You bucked your hips against him, desperate for him to finally touch you where you need him the most. Your nipple popped out of his mouth with a soft pop and he moved to the other, repeating the process. Your breaths came out ragged and short, your body screaming for release. Finally, he broke away, but only to position himself better above you.

“Open wide,” he instructed, tapping your lips with his two fingers, waiting to insert them in. “Suck, make them nice and wet for you.”

You opened your mouth, releasing a shallow gasp as his fingers gently entered your sensitive wetness. The pressure and the warmth of his fingers thrilled your whole body as he probed deeper, smoothly gliding in and out of your entrance. You began to suck on his fingers, mimicking the rhythm of his strokes.

He pulled away, bringing his fingers in front of your face. “Good fucking girl,” he praised and filled your mouth with the fingers of his other hand. “You’re gonna have the time of your life.”

He lowered himself so he was right face to face with your tits and began rolling your nipples in between his now moist fingers. The sensation was dizzying, and your entire body shook as he continued to tease you, knowing that he had the power to unleash an orgasmic storm. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, adrenaline and arousal coursing through your veins as he pulled them up and then released, watching your breasts jiggle as they fell. Your breath was shallow and ragged with every pinch and twist, and you felt as if you were on the edge of a cliff, about to jump into the abyss of pleasure.

“Fuck, Lando, I could cum,” you squirmed, your back arching into him.

He chuckled deeply, a wicked grin on his face. “Oh, baby, you haven’t even begun to feel my touch yet.”

His rubs on your nipples intensified as if he was really trying to see if he could make you cum from that alone. You moaned and writhed beneath him, your body aching for more. He knew what he was doing to you and he was enjoying every moment of it.

Slowly, he began to trail his fingers down your body, re-familiarizing himself with every curve and dip, his lips following the path of his hands. He paused at the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing over your panties, causing you to gasp and shudder.

Suddenly, he backed away and sat against the headboard. “Come here,” he patted the space between his legs and you crawled to him. “Turn around, rest your back against me, that’s it,” he instructed, helping you adjust your position. You could feel his warmth against your back, his erection pressing against your lower back. He rubbed your shoulders for a bit before his hands made their descent once again, his thumbs brushing past your nipples and down your sides, tracing the curves of your waist.

He tugged on your hips, urging you to slide down his crotch. He settled his hands on your lower back, pressing you against him, allowing you to feel the full length of him. You couldn’t help but moan, feeling his hardness, your body responding to his commanding presence.

“Spread your legs for me,” he ordered, and you did so, your heart racing at his command. He began to rub your inner thighs, his fingers tracing the line of your panties. You felt his breath on the back of your neck, his hot breath making you shiver slightly.

“You’re so wet, so receptive,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “I want to feel you come apart.”

Your hips responded under his touch, arching up, your need for him growing more intense with every second. With one hand, he held you down, pinning you against him as his other hand continued to explore your most intimate parts. His fingers danced across the fabric of your panties, teasing you mercilessly. He kept his promise of a slow, sensual build-up, but your body was hungry for him, eager to be consumed by the passion he had promised.

"Please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper, "take them off, touch me."

Your hips bucked again, unconsciously grinding against his hand. Lando's eyes turned a darker shade of green following your reaction, and you could see the hunger in his gaze. He pressed his digits over your clothed pussy, this time pressing harder, rubbing your wet flesh through the delicate fabric. Your juices flowed freely, his hand slick with your arousal.

Your back arched up, your head thrown back on his shoulder, your eyes closed tightly, lost in the sensations that were flooding your body. You were on the verge of the most intense climax of your life, and you knew it.

He gently pushed your panties to the side, exposing your glistening, swollen folds. His fingers trailed along your skin, sending sensational shocks through you. His eyes took in every detail, every curve and color. You were so beautiful, and his heart pounded harder at the sight. He reached up to kiss you, his lips demanding, possessive, yet tender. Your hands clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

And then finally, finally, he tapped your clit lightly with his fingertips causing your entire body to jolt in response. He knew exactly what he was doing, it was maddening. Your muscles tightened, your breath hitched and you knew this was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when he would take you to the edge of ecstasy and push you over.

“Lando,” you moaned his name softly, your voice trembling with longing. “Oh, please.”

“Almost there.” With one hand, he held you in place, the other began to circle your clit, gently at first, then mounting in pressure as your breath grew shallower and hips moved against him.

He cupped your pussy in his hands, spread wide open for him. The sight was a feast for his eyes, and the feel of you, wet and open and squirming under his touch, sent a deeper lust coursing through him. His finger found your entrance, sliding through your juices, coating itself completely. Lando's finger moved in and out of you, slow and steady, syncing with the rhythm of his thumb circling your clit.

He watched as his digit disappeared into your body, connecting with the very core of your need. You moaned into his neck, holding onto the back of it, your body trembling with eagerness, your mind consumed by the erotic scene unfolding before you. He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously, preparing your body for his invasion, his thumb still working in time with his fingers.

You felt like you were melting into him, the pleasure radiating from your center, spreading throughout your entire body. Your moans became louder, more urgent, your hips bucking against his hand. Lando's eyes were locked on your face, watching your expression change from pleasure to bliss to raw, unbridled lust. You were gasping for breath, your body writhing under his skilled hands. It was numerous times better than any night you have spent alone with a vibrator between your legs.

He knew the moment was coming, he could feel it in the way your muscles tensed, the way your juices flowed freely, the way your moans grew louder and more intense. Your whole body was begging for release, and he was more than willing to give it to you.

With a gentleness that belied the intensity of the situation, he slid his fingers inside you, pushing past your tight entrance and finding that sweet spot that made you gasp with pleasure. You arched your back, your head thrashing on his shoulder, your nails digging into the back of his neck as he began to piston his fingers in and out of you, finding the perfect rhythm to drive you over the edge.

With a final thrust of his fingers, he plunged them deep into your core, finding that special place that made you scream in delight. Your entire body shook, convulsing with the force of your climax. You arched your back, your cries echoing through the room, as your pleasure coursed through you like an electric current.

Lando watched in awe as you came apart in his arms, the sight of your body, so beautiful and vulnerable in that moment, making his own desire for you burn even hotter.

"That's it, baby,” he continued to stroke your clit, milking every last drop of pleasure from you, until you were spent, your body limp and panting against him. “So beautiful, so perfect.”

Finally, he eased his fingers out of your heated core, the wetness glistening on his fingers. He brought them to your mouth, smearing the juices all over your lips and chin, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

"Taste yourself, baby. You're a goddess." You opened your mouth hesitantly, allowing his fingers to press against your tongue, tasting the sweet nectar of your own neediness. As you did so, Lando's lips found yours, his tongue slowly sliding past your lips to mingle with the taste of your climax.

“I’m going to taste you first hand,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

With that, he gently lowered you onto the bed, spreading your legs wider as he positioned himself between them. Before he dove in, he took off your panties and then proceeded to take off his shirt as well, revealing his toned chest and chiseled abs, sending a new wave of want through you. Your eyes followed his every move, every flex of his muscles as he moved closer, your heart pounding in excitement of what was about to come.

He bent your legs into knees and pushed them back, having your pussy on full display for him. He looked at you while pressing on your legs, his eyes burning with craving and lust, and you could see that he was about to devour you.

Lando’s mouth watered at the sight of your glistening cunt, leaking wet and pulsing for him. He leaned forward, kissing the back of your thighs softly, trailing his lips upward until he reached your inner thighs. Your breath hitched as he blew gently on your damp skin, sending shivers through you.

With a final deep breath, Lando extended his tongue just long enough to lightly flick your clit, sending electric shocks throughout your body. You arched your back, your hips lifting off the bed in response, your moans filling the room. His tongue teased your sensitive bud, drawing circles around it, then darting in and out of your folds in a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. Your hips pushed against him, urging him to continue, to give you more of what you craved. Lando obliged, his tongue becoming more insistent, flicking and teasing your sensitive flesh.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, your hands clawing at the sheets beneath you as his tongue continued to work its magic.

His tongue found your entrance, sliding in and out, mimicking the rhythm of his fingers earlier, except this time, it was slower, more sensual, while the tip of his nose perfectly aligned with your clit, stimulating it with every motion. You whimpered, your hands gripping his hair almost painfully as you tried to pull him closer.

His fingers joined in, sinking into your wetness with ease, curling inside you in a way that felt like home. He moved in tandem with his tongue, creating a symphony of pleasure that left you breathless and writhing beneath him.

Lando's eyes were locked on your face, devouring every expression that crossed it. He could see the raw hunger in your eyes, and it only fueled his wish to give you more. Your moans grew louder, more urgent, your hips bucking against his face as he continued to pleasure you. You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief.

“Want to finish yourself on my face on your own?” he slurped your juices, just teasing your entrance with his tongue. You cried out, your hands finding their way to his head, holding him to you as you started moving up and down his face.

“Fuck, baby, yes, use my face to get yourself off,” he muffled against you, encouraging your grinding motions. “Use me.”

He might’ve been the dominant one, but he was still there for your pleasure, for your enjoyment. He was there to submit to your every wish and request, to be used by you. And pleasure you he did, with his skilled tongue and passionate devotion. Each flick, each lap of his tongue sent your nerves on fire, your body shaking and pulsating with pleasure.

He reached up, grabbing your thighs, pulling you even closer to him, burying his face further into your pussy. The combination of his hot breath mixed with the taste of your arousal was intoxicating. You felt yourself growing closer to the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Your movements sped up, your hips grinding against his face, your nails digging into his scalp as you fought to keep yourself from falling over the edge. He could sense it, the moment when your body would explode in a gasm of pure pleasure, and he eagerly awaited it, his tongue never stopping its rhythmic dance with your sensitive nub.

Your body arched off the bed, your moans growing louder and more frenzied as your orgasm built to a crescendo. He continued to devour your pussy, his tongue never wavering, his nose pressed against your clit, his hands gripping your hips tightly, guiding your movements, urging you on.

And then, it happened. Your body shivered, your muscles tightened, and your voice filled the room in a scream of ecstasy. The vibrations shook Lando's face, his tongue never leaving your clit, as he reveled in the pleasure he had given you.

It was a glorious moment, Lando felt like he had reached the pinnacle of his seduction skills. He savored the taste of your arousal, still on his tongue, and smiled to himself as he watched you catch your breath, still panting on the bed.

“You taste amazing, baby,” he whispered, kissing your inner thighs gently. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

You couldn't help but blush as his words sent a shiver through you, your body still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm he had just brought you to. "You make me feel like a goddess," you managed to say, your voice still thick with aspiration.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Because you are."

Lando's eyes never left your face as he slowly stood up, your gaze locked on his toned body as he towered over you.

“Think you could take me now?” he reached down, offering you a hand to help you sit up.

“Fuck, yes,” you jumped to your knees, pawing at his pants with eager hands. “I’ve never wanted someone more in my life.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers, wanting to take them both down in one go, too impatient to have his cock spring out.

Lando laughed, shaking his head playfully. "Slow down, baby. This isn’t about me, but about you. It's about what you need, what you’re yearning for."

“But,” you started, your mouth turning into a pout. “I want to take you in my mouth.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, gently pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. It was impossible to look away as he stepped back to remove his bottoms, his erection springing free, standing tall in front of you. The sight so beautiful made you take a deep breath in, thick and hard, dripping with pre-cum. Your hands shook with fancy how he would feel in your palms as you waited for go-ahead to touch him.

Lando stepped closer, pushing his hips forward. “Think you could manage?” he asked with a sly smirk.

You didn't need another invitation. A grin spread across your face as you reached forward and wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, feeling the silky skin against your fingers. Lando groaned, his hips bucking slightly, but he stayed still, allowing you to savor the moment. You leaned in, your lips nearly touching the head of his cock, the salty taste of him making your mouth water. But you pulled back, teasing him, your eyes locked on his.

“You’re so fucking big,” you whispered, your voice trembling with lust.

Lando groaned again, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he reveled in your touch and your words. He reached down, gently grasping the back of your head, guiding your forehead to his hardness. "Go ahead, baby," he said, his voice low and rough with need. "Take what you want."

With a shiver of excitement, you lifted his cock upward and pressed your lips to the smooth skin of his shaft. You traced the length of him with your tongue, savoring the taste of him and then rested the tip on your tongue, feeling the weight of his cock, before closing your mouth over the head.

His breath hitched, his hands gripping your hair tightly as you began to suck him, your mouth moving in a rhythm that matched your earlier hand job. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth, his precum mixing with your saliva, only making you want him more.

Lando’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back in pleasure as you continued to take him deep into your throat. His hips jerked at the sensation, and you knew that you held all of his hankering in your hands and mouth. You took him deeper, your tongue swirling around the velvety smooth head, tasting the saltiness that leaked from him. He moaned, his hands threading through your hair, holding you tightly against him as you continued to tease him with your mouth.

“Oh, god, yes,” he groaned, his voice just above a whisper. “You’re killing me, baby.”

You couldn’t help but smile around him, vibrations of your laugh tickling his sensitive skin. He filled your mouth, his taste overwhelming yet delicious. You moaned around him, feeling the muscles of his shaft flex beneath your tongue as you continued to take him deeper.

Lando’s hands gripped the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he began to thrust slowly, trying to find more pleasure. Your moans grew louder, more urgent, your throat working to accommodate his size. You reached out, one hand gripping his balls, the other reaching between your legs to rub your clit, letting out a low, guttural moan as your orgasm began to build.

Hearing your cries only fueled him more, and Lando began to thrust faster, harder. Your orgasm was upon you quickly, your body trembling and shaking with each thrust. You held on tight to his cock, your hand cupping and stroking his balls, the fingers on your clit rubbing in a frenzied pattern that sent you spiraling into bliss.

Lando's eyes didn't stop watching you, his expression a mixture of pleasure and hunger. He could feel the moment when you would explode, and he pushed you off his cock and onto your back, replacing your fingers with his.

“What did I tell you? No more making yourself cum on your own, baby, not unless I tell you to,” he growled, his eyes dark and intense. “Let me be the one to make you feel this good.”

He bent down, his tongue darting out to kiss and nibble at your neck, your collarbone, your earlobe, his fingers still rubbing your clit. You whimpered, your body arching off the bed, eager for more of his touch. He whispered into your ear, "I need to see you, baby. I need to watch you cum."

You opened your eyes, gazing into his as he continued to torture your clit with his digits. Lando's eyes never left yours, his lips twisting into a smirk as he watched you lose control. It was a glorious sight, your body shaking, your voice screeching in pure pleasure as you orgasm overwhelmed you.

"That's it," he urged, his fingers moving faster, matching the rhythm of his lips against your skin. "Cum for me, baby. Cum hard."

Your body tensed, your orgasm building to a crescendo. You screamed his name, your nails digging into his back as you exploded around his fingers. Lando watched, a satisfied grin on his face, as your body shuddered and convulsed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your orgasm began to subside, leaving you panting and breathless. You lay there, spent and writhing in the afterglow, your mind still swimming with the intensity of the moment.

Lando leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead, and whispered, "You look so beautiful right now,"

With a contented sigh, you pulled him closer and kissed him deeply, your tongues intertwining as your bodies continued to pant and tremble.

“Please, fuck me now,” you pleaded, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Lando's eyes sparkled with craving as he whispered against your lips, "Not yet, sweetheart. I want you to ride me, take control for once."

You bit your lip, a thrill of excitement running through you at the thought of being in charge at this moment. Lando helped you to your feet, guiding you to straddle him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached between your legs, positioning him at your entrance.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low and filled with expectancy.

Your nod was almost imperceptible, your eyes locked onto his, and with a deep breath, you pushed forward. Lando's cock slid into you with such ease, and filled you completely. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to the sensation.

He grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes. “You alright, baby?”

“Yeah,” you managed to murmur, the initial stretch leaving you a bit dizzy.

“Good,” he said, kissing your chest, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. “Whenever you’re ready, show me what you can do. Ride me.”

With a renewed sense of power and confidence, you began to move, rocking your hips in a slow steady rhythm. Lando watched you with admiration, his hands never leaving your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with each move. His teeth sank into your lower lip and you could feel his hot breath against your skin.

“You feel so amazing,” he whispered, his voice low and needy.

You moaned, riding him harder, your hips bucking in time with his thrusts. His hands slid up your spine, his fingers gripping your hair as he pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. The taste of his tongue mixed with the saltiness of your sweat, making you moan even louder.

“Lando, you’re so deep,” you whined, your words punctuated by his thrusts.

“You can take it,” he reassured you, his hands tightening in your hair, pulling you closer, his hips bucking hard against you. Your breasts bounced, the nipples rubbing against his chest, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

"Fuck, baby, so tight," he hissed, matching your rhythm. "Look at you, riding me so expertly," he praised, his eyes locked on your body. "You're so fucking beautiful."

You tossed your head back, your hair cascading down your back, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, your nails biting into the flesh as your orgasm built, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

"Oh, god, yes," you whimpered, your hips bucking wildly, meeting his every thrust.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, his voice ragged. “Fuck yourself onto my cock, make yourself cum, use me as your personal fucktoy,” he begged, his hands tightening around your hips.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his skin, the pleasure building and building, until finally you reached the peak, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave.

You screamed his name, your body arching off him, your muscles tensing and then releasing, your core clenching around his cock as you exploded in bliss. Lando watched, a look of pure satisfaction on his face, his eyes dark and hungry.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, thrusting harder as you cried out, your pussy pulsating around his cock. “Cum for me, let me feel you shake around me.”

You fell into his arms, your body limp and spent, as he continued to thrust inside you. With each thrust, his cock glided against your sensitive walls, sending shivers of delight across your whole being.

Your body was still trembling, your orgasm lingering in your veins, as Lando finally pulled out, his cock glistening with your juices.

He helped you to lie down on the bed, your legs spread wide, your pussy inviting him back in. Your eyes never left his as he positioned himself at your entrance once more, your breath catching, awaiting his entry.

“Ready to go again?” he asked, his voice low and sultry, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Yes,” you gasped, drunk on the high of your orgasm and eager for more.

With a slow and deliberate thrust, he slid back inside you, his cock fitting perfectly within your tight walls. You moaned loudly, your body adjusting to the sensation of being filled once again.

Lando leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good, baby," he whispered, his voice low and gruff.

He started to move inside you, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm. Your hands found their way to his back, clutching at his skin as you matched his pace, your bodies perfectly in sync.

Your eyes never left his, locked onto his as he looked deep into your soul. Why were you even going out looking for a good time when you had this next door?

"Fuck me, Lando," you pleaded, your voice ragged with need. “Harder.”

Lando grinned, his dark eyes gleaming. He picked up his pace, his hips pounding into you with a fierce intensity that sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your screams filled the room as he plowed into you, his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep thrust.

With each surge, you could sense yourself drawing nearer to the brink, your body quivering with excitement. Lando's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as your bodies moved in perfect harmony.

"Fuck, yes," he growled, his voice hoarse with lust. "You feel so fucking good, baby. You're going to cum for me again already, aren’t you?”

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy and needy. "I'm so close."

“So fucking desperate and needy. I can tell no one knew how to handle this pussy before.” It was true, no one else had ever made you feel this way. Lando had tapped into something within you that no one else had ever reached.

You moaned, your hips bucking in time with his thrusts. The room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the wet slurping noise of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling with the force of your arousal.

"Harder, Lando," you begged, your eyes locked onto his as his hips pistoned into you.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his hips bucking hard against you. “And only getting tighter. Sit up, baby, watch as you cum on my cock.”

You followed his command, propping yourself on your elbows and watching as his cock slid in and out of you. Lando's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as his cock slammed into you with brutal force, your breasts bouncing wildly with every thrust.

“See what mess you’re making on my cock? You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?” he taunted, his eyes never leaving your flushed face as you looked at the white ring around his cock. “You love getting fucked, don’t you?”

You moaned, head thrown back, eyes rolling in your head as you felt yourself being driven closer to the edge with every deep thrust. The sensations were overwhelming. Every time he hit your G-spot, an electrical charge shot through your body, making your whole being feel alive and on fire.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whined, your voice ragged and breathless.

Lando grinned. He picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster, his cock slamming into you with a furious intensity. You felt yourself being swept up in a tidal wave of pure ecstasy, every nerve ending singing with pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice rough with lust. “Let me feel your pussy milk my cock as you cum all over me.”

You screamed, your body arching and shaking as the most intense orgasm of your life washed over you. Your pussy clenched and released around his cock, squeezing him, as you collapsed onto the bed, gasping for air.

Lando watched, his eyes growing wider with every thrust, his body tensing as he felt your pussy pulsating around his cock.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he groaned, his hips bucking wildly, matching your rhythm. "I'm gonna cum too. Fuck, your pussy feels so good, so tight. I can't hold back any longer."

Your body shook with pleasure, your breaths shallow and rapid, as you felt his cock throbbing inside you. Lando's eyes locked onto yours, his face contorted with bliss as he thrust harder and faster, his orgasm building to an explosive climax.

"Oh, fuck!" he roared, his body convulsing as he filled you with his cum. Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking every last drop.

You lay there, panting and sweaty, your body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, as Lando pulled out, his cock covered with your juices. He plopped down on the bed next to you, his chest visibly rising and falling.

“I hope… I managed… to do better… than that… toy,” Lando panted.

“You did so much better,” you breathed, affirming. “Fuck, Lando, that was incredible. I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

Lando grinned, his eyes shining with triumph. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you. "Then you've been missing out, baby. That was just a taste of what you could have every night, if you wanted."

You laughed softly, snuggling into his embrace. "I'm not sure I could keep up with you."

"You'd be surprised," he said, his lips brushing against the top of your head. "But I'll be here, whenever you need me, you know, just a door knock away.”

You smiled, imagining all the nights you could’ve spent with Lando instead of wasting your time with random hookups that all ended the same.

You turned on your side and propped yourself up on your elbow. “Should I throw all my toys away now then?”

"Not necessarily," Lando chuckled, running his fingers through your hair. "I mean, they served their purpose, but maybe we could use those toys of yours next time you want to spice things up. Just imagine how much better they'll feel with me inside you."

His words went straight into your core and made you shiver. You imagined it too, the intensity of it all, his cock and those toys, all at once, filling you, stretching you, pleasuring you in ways you've never been before.

"I like the sound of that," you said, running your fingers lightly over his chest, trying to play it cool. "But I have to say, you inside me feels better than any toy I’ve ever had."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well then, I guess that makes me your favorite toy now, huh?"

“Maybe,” you purred, your hand trailing down his chest and drifting lower to his hips. "But I think I'd need to test out your battery life first."

3K notes · View notes

twilghtkoo · 5 months ago

Text

to be loved is to be seen.

pairings. idol!jungkook x reader

genres/aus. fluff, established relationship, idol!au

warnings. mentions of smoking and alcohol

masterlist

—

“i’m going to use the bathroom real quick.” you tell jungkook as you lift yourself off the couch. he’s quick to stand up with you but you lightly push him down, your index finger grazed against his skin from the buttons on his shirt being unbuttoned and exposing a bit of his chest.

you shake your head. “stay, i’ll be back.” you say while pulling one side of his shirt closed to hide the bareness. girls have been staring at him and trying to come up to him and it’s getting annoying.

his bottom lip is pushed out slightly, pouting before he lets you go alone.

jungkook watches you make it to the stairs until you disappear from his sight.

you’re thankful the bathroom wasn’t occupied and you could easily walk in, locking the door behind you.

anxious thoughts invade your mind. the five drinks you’ve had can’t even cloud your thoughts nor make you tipsy enough—curse your body for not being a lightweight.

jungkook’s friends had invited you two to a party and originally he didn’t want to go because you were with him and he wanted to be with you. but he barely gets to see his friends and it’s been awhile since he’s been out with them. it took a bit to persuade him but he gave in on the exception that you came. and you didn’t mind. you thought it would be fun. it was fun.

but his friends aren’t your friends and your social battery around strangers tends to drain fast. they’re nice people and all, but now you just want to go home.

this was your idea you know… yeah well, you’re gonna tough it out for him because he’s having a good time and you’re gonna do anything for him. good pep talk!

“__?” three soft knocks and his sudden voice makes you jump, realizing you’ve been standing in front of the sink, stuck in your head.

“hang on!” you shout out, quickly using the restroom and washing your hands before you step out to meet the boy on your mind.

his eyes find yours quickly, trying to decipher any changes in your body language or to read anything going on behind your orbs.

“you okay? you’ve been in there for awhile so i came up to check on you.” he asks with concern in his voice.

you try to smile but it comes out small. “yeah, sorry,” you opened your mouth to continue but nothing comes out.

a couple drunkenly tumbles up the stairs, heading towards you both but he’s quick to grasp onto your waist and move you both against the wall. the couple passes you and disappears into a room, slamming the door behind them.

both of you slowly turn your heads to look at each other with raised eyebrows and you burst into fits of laughter. him still holding onto you, as you two start to quiet down. the scent of his cologne and cigarettes permeated your nostrils, remembering him and his friends were outside smoking earlier. in the early stages of you two dating, the smell used to bother you, so jungkook had the notion to smoke outside shirtless so the smell doesn’t catch onto his clothes and to brush his teeth so he can kiss you easily. now you’re used to it.

suddenly, he’s gazing down upon you. “you tired?”

immediately shakes your head, “no.”

he lets out a deep breath and hums, sliding a hand into the front pocket of his jeans before throwing the other over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as he guides you downstairs.

“well i am. let’s go home.” he declares, his head turning left and right to find where his friends went while you just gawk at him.

but you don’t say nothing.

once you both reach his group of friends, they’re heads turn towards you both. “guys i’m feeling tired so we’re gonna head home.”

“what, already?”

“that’s cool, thanks for coming man.”

you released yourself from jungkook so they could bid their manly goodbyes, them also thanking you for coming and saying it was good to see you.

jungkook links his hand with yours as you both make your way out the building onto the streets. with your hand in his, he brings it up to his face and softly kisses the back of it three times.

you fondly stare at him before hanging your head as you watch both your pairs of feet walk in sync.

“sorry i made you leave early, i know you said you were tired because of me. i didn’t mean to force you to leave ‘cus i know you were having fun–“

he stops in his tracks and squeezes your hand. “baby, ever since i met you, the thought of being without you made me crazy. so what makes you think i’d want to be out without you?” he expresses, taking your face in the palm of his hands and pressing his lips against yours in a short kiss. “plus, being at home in bed with you honestly sounds really fucking good right now.”

a timid smile stretched onto your lips before you reached on your tippy toes to kiss him again. “i love you.”

“i love you, silly. now let’s go home. are you hungry, ‘cus im craving ramen and i might make some when we get home.”

“ramen actually sounds really good right now.”

it’s 3am as i finish this so enjoy another self indulgent jungkook brain rot :D the way ill be at an outing w family or friends having fun but then two hours pass and with the snap of fingers i go quiet and have a rbf and i’m ready to go home and be in bed💀 anyway likes & reblogs are v much appreciated !! stay safe and healthy <33

#twilghtkoo #to be loved is to be seen #jeon jungkook #jungkook soft hours #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #boyfriend!jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader

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wavesmp3 · 6 months ago

Text

young & stupid

yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)

you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.

genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol

Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.

Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.

So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.

But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.

“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”

“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”

“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”

You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”

He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”

This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”

“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.

“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”

“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”

You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.

“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”

You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?

And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.

You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.

You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”

“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.

You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”

He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.

“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”

You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.

He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”

And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.

It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.

“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.

“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“

You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.

“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”

Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.

“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”

You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.

That fucker.

“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.

Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”

“That was their third time asking me out.”

“And?”

“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”

“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”

He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”

You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.

“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”

“East campus. The Austin Complex.”

He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”

You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”

“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”

“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”

He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.

“Are you crazy?”

“Most people don’t think so.”

“People will honk.”

“It’s 1 am.”

You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.

“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”

He passes the light just as it turns red.

—

You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.

And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.

You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”

“Payback.”

You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

Fuck. Did you say that outloud?

“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.

“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”

You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”

“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”

“Lubinsky.”

Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”

“His quizzes are impossible.”

“Yeah, but he’s funny.”

You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”

He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”

“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.

“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.

“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”

He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”

You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”

He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”

You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”

“Yes.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.

Goddamn it–those eyes.

You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”

“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”

“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”

You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…

Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.

—

As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.

“Do it again.”

“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”

He points to your worksheet. “One more.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I thought you wanted an A.”

“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”

“Just do it.”

You groan and set up another integral.

To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.

Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.

You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”

“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“

You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”

Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.

He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.

“So can we take a break now?”

He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”

You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.

“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”

“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”

“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”

You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”

He cocks his head. “No?”

You shake yours. “No.”

“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”

“How come you haven’t asked?”

He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.

You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”

“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.

“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”

“So why’d you date him then?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.

The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”

He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”

Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”

He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”

Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”

His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)

“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”

You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”

He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.

—

You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.

You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.

“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”

You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”

“If we kissed?”

“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”

“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”

You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.

“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”

“Probably?” You echo.

“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.

You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”

He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?

“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”

And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”

He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.

“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.

And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?

Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.

“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”

You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”

He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.

He points to your cup. “Shot?”

You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”

—

Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.

—

The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.

“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”

“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)

“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”

You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”

Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.

“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.

“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”

Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.

“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”

Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”

You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”

“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.

They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”

“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”

Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”

Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.

“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”

The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”

Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”

You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”

Joshua leans towards you. “What?”

You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.

The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.

“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”

You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”

He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”

Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”

Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”

“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.

Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”

You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”

“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”

“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”

Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”

Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?

Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.

The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.

The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.

And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.

—

Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.

There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.

Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.

You swallow.

“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”

Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?

Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.

You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”

“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”

“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”

You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”

His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”

“It could be.”

Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.

“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.

“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.

Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”

“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”

And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.

Your phone buzzes.

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally

Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s

You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?

Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place

You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb

You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast

You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right

Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD

An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.

By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”

He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”

“Mine? Why?”

“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”

“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”

He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”

You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”

He burps. “Because of me?”

The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”

“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”

You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”

He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”

“And the occasion was…?”

He looks you dead in the eye.

“You make me nervous.”

Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.

Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.

He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.

“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.

He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”

“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.

“But I’m really sorry.”

“And I really don’t mind.”

He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”

You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”

He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.

You mumble back a ‘thanks’.

“So, what’d you think of the game?”

You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.

“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”

“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”

“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”

You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”

“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”

“Which assignment? The chem lab?”

You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”

“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”

“Okay, you’re drunk.”

“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”

Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”

“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.

“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”

Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”

“Did you just cringe?”

“–you smell like vomit.”

“Well, do you have clothes for me?”

“No, but I have a couch.”

He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”

—

(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.

You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)

—

When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.

As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?

Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.

“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”

“Date?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.

“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”

“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”

You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.

The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.

“Come on, they’re so cute.”

“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”

“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”

“Good thing we’re not one.”

“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”

You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.

—

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”

And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.

“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.

“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”

“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.

You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”

He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”

And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.

“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”

“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”

His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”

“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.

You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.

You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”

“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”

You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”

“Other than Soonyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”

You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”

He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”

“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”

You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”

He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.

He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”

His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”

“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”

He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”

You squint at him. “Why?”

And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”

He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”

“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”

The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”

“I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”

You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.

“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.

Did that just happen?

Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.

He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”

He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.

And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.

—

The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.

“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.

“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”

“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.

“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”

“Yeah, but the game was fun.”

“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.

“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”

That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.

Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”

“Like what?”

“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”

“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.

You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.

“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”

This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”

But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.

Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”

After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.

He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”

Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”

You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”

He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”

Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.

“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.

It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”

You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.

“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”

“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”

You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”

They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.

“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”

“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”

“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”

You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”

You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.

You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.

“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.

You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”

“What kind of rule is that?”

“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”

You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”

He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.

The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.

“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”

He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”

He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”

You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”

He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”

You kiss him.

You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.

The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.

He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.

A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”

“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.

1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.

2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.

3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?

4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?

5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.

6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”

7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”

8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”

10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.

11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.

12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”

13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”

14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”

15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?

16! Please, you want to beg, say something.

17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”

18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.

The rest of the numbers blur in your head.

—

(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”

The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)

—

You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.

By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.

You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.

—

You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.

By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.

Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”

“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”

Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”

“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”

You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”

“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”

You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.

You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.

Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.

“Seungcheol called me.”

His face twitches. “Why?”

“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”

He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”

You nod.

He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.

You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”

He nods.

“Do you want a ride back?

He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How would you get back to yours?”

“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”

The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”

He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”

He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”

“Where?”

“I’ll drop you home.”

You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.

Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”

“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”

Oh.

Holy fucking shit.

He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”

You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”

He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”

You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I don’t think–”

“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”

He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.

He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.

You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.

You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.

Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”

You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”

“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”

You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.

And you can’t help it, you grin.

You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.

“How did you get here?”

“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”

“I told you to–”

“I know what you said.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”

“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”

You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.

“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”

“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.

You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #svt scenarios #mine #young & stupid

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dark-fics-4-you · 8 months ago

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Can you do reader ignoring stepbro rafe and he gets mad so he sneaks in readers room and eats her out until shes crying and begging for him to stop! Love ur fics💗💗

Silent Treatment

mean!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: noncon/forced sex, incest (step siblings), oral, fingering, forced orgasm, jealousy, controlling behavior, smut

After an excruciating family dinner where you seemed happy to speak with any other family member but him, Rafe glared at you when you were the first to excuse yourself from the table.

He rolled his eyes when he heard your door slam upstairs, but chose not to comment on it in front of Ward, Rose, Sarah, or Wheezie. If they noticed his reaction, they didn’t say anything.

Although they would have definitely noticed how little you had been speaking to Rafe, completely snubbing him at his every attempt to strike conversation with you.

Normally the two of you would be attached at the hip, and only Rafe knew why you were acting differently now.

The blond had chased off another guy that you had been talking to, insisting to you that he wasn’t any good for you, and that he didn’t deserve to date “Rafe Cameron’s little sister.”

You both knew the real reason behind his actions though.

Rafe waited several minutes before excusing himself and then casually walking up the stairs and approaching your door.

He didn’t even bother knocking, twisting the handle and opening the door to let himself in before shutting it quietly behind him.

At the noise, you sat up in bed, and glared at him.

“Leave me alone.” Your voice was curt and resolved, but Rafe didn’t really want to listen to you right now.

“C’mon Y/N, are you really going to do this right now? This silent treatment shit is getting old fast.” When your older step brother sat on the side of your bed, you tensed, scooting yourself away from him a bit.

“I already told you, I don’t want to talk to you right now.” You snapped at him. “You threatened Tyler to get him to stop talking to me!”

Rafe shook his head, his jaw clenching in frustration when he looked at you. He stared at you in silence before chuckling darkly.

“God, you’re such a cunt sometimes, Y/N, you know that?”

You reeled back at his words, jaw dropping in disbelief at his insult.

“Fuck you, Rafe,” you cursed under your breath and you were surprised when his fingers clamped down on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I will.” His words shocked you, but not as much as the dead serious look on his face. “Maybe that would teach you to not be such an uptight bitch.”

You tried to grasp at his wrist but he swatted your hand away before sliding his hand around your throat and forcing you onto your back.

“Rafe-” you struggled against him when he straddled you, and when he reared his hand back like he was ready to slap you across the face, you tensed up, finally stilling beneath him and looking up at your older step brother with fear in your eyes.

“Relax, I wasn’t going to hit you, sweetheart,” you weren’t sure whether his raspy words were meant to be a comfort or a threat.

You couldn’t speak, too shocked and frightened by his actions to create a sound. All you could do was blink the tears from your shiny eyes.

“What? Nothing to say now, huh?” Rafe mocked you, drawing closer. His breath was hot on your face and his large hand at your throat kept you pinned in place.

You defiantly kept your mouth shut, although you didn’t think you could have made a sound even if you wanted to with Rafe’s fingers starting to crush your throat.

Your silence was short lived however, because you gasped when you felt Rafe’s other hand gently ghost over your clothed core. You jerked away from his touch, but the hand at your throat held you firmly in place.

He shifted on top of you, crawling lower and finally releasing his hold on your neck. Your attempts to shove him off of you were futile, and when his big hands began pawing at your shorts and kneading the soft skin of your thighs, you felt your stomach drop.

“Get the hell off of me!”

He ignored you, unbuttoning your shorts, only unzipping them part of the way before just tugging them down your legs and discarding them behind him. Your heart was beating hard in your ears, and the sound of your rushing pulse made you feel dizzy.

He eyed your lacy pink panties for just a moment before pulling them down, ripping them when you kicked your legs out trying to stop him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed quietly, too confused and embarrassed to be loud enough to attract the attention of your family.

He didn’t respond, but you got your answer when he spread your legs, which you were desperately trying to squeeze together, and buried his tongue into your pussy.

You weren’t sure if the noise you let out was a cry or a moan, but either way, it was loud. Disgust and pleasure sinfully mingled together in your gut when Rafe’s tongue teased your clit.

With his strong arms wrapped around your legs, you had nowhere to go. When you squirmed in his arms, his tongue just licked at you more hungrily, shooting sparks of ecstasy through your entire body.

Your step brother devoured your silky cunt, savoring the sweet flavors of your unwanted arousal like it was nectar from the gods. The sound of your soft cries of protests mixed with involuntary moans of pleasure made him harder than he had ever gotten by just fantasizing about this moment.

“Rafe please!” You begged him, panting as he messily lapped at your tender clit. His harsh grip on your soft thighs tightened, and you winced at the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin.

When you felt the tip of his finger slide along your dripping folds, you bucked your hips in surprise, trying again to free yourself from his grasp.

His blue eyes glanced up, taking in your disheveled form. Your chest was rising and falling unevenly and Rafe watched your face as he slowly pushed his index finger into your tight heat.

Your eyebrows shot up in shock and you bit your lip, trying to stifle the gasp that escaped at the feeling of your older brother sliding his ringed finger along your walls. Every flick of his tongue against your clit had you tensing and tightening around his finger and Rafe’s moans vibrated against your soaked pussy.

“P-please stop,” you whimpered, tears beginning to prick at your eyes and overflow past your lashes.

“Not ‘til you apologize, princess,” he mumbled in between sucking at your clit and curling his finger inside your quivering walls. He slowly slid in a second finger, stretching you out even further and earning a strained gasp that made his cock twitch. Rafe had fantasized about this moment so many times before, but seeing your perfect face and hearing you moan and whine as he fucked you with his fingers and lapped at your clit was better than anything he could have ever imagined.

Your head was in the clouds, horribly confused by your conflicting feelings of disgust and desperate want. It was wrong for so many reasons, but maybe that fact was why you were so close to being pushed over the brink.

“I’m sorry, Rafe! Okay? Fuck- Please, mm- I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You breathlessly begged him. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but your tears were still flowing down your cheeks in a steady stream.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he ordered. Rafe was fucking you with his fingers harder now, the feeling of his ring dragging along your walls was making you see stars behind your eyelids. His thumb circled your clit with just the right amount of pressure to keep you right on the edge of finishing.

You reluctantly cracked your eyes, meeting Rafe’s intense gaze with heavy lidded eyes that you could barely keep open.

“Apologize to your big brother like you fucking mean it.” His grin was triumphant and mocking, and he allowed his eyes to trace over every part of you, taking in how much of a pathetic mess he had made of you.

“I’m sorry, Rafe! I’m sorry, I’ll never ignore you again. I was just being stupid. Ple- mm please stop.” You pleaded with him, tears and hiccups interrupting your words. You had never felt so much humiliation in your entire life.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, not stopping his movements at all. “You’re just too cute for your own good, baby.”

“What-?”

Your question was cut off with a moan when he resumed working your clit with his tongue. He lapped and licked at the tender flesh like a man starved and when he slide a third finger into your tight cunt, the band inside of you finally snapped.

“Rafe!” You loudly whined as you came, legs quivering as he continued fucking you through your high.

“Aw, there’s my good girl,” he cooed, drinking in your beautiful face and enjoying the feeling of your cunt clinging to his fingers and pulsing around them. Your pink, puffy tear stained eyes fearfully met his eyes and you sniffed sadly.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, Y/N?” He smirked at you when he pulled his fingers from your sore, weeping pussy and slid them past his lips, savoring the flavor of your arousal.

“Mm, tastes like you enjoyed yourself,” Rafe chuckled darkly. “So quit your fucking crying. Just makes me want to choke you with my dick till you shut up.”

#silent treatment #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron noncon #stepbro!rafe cameron #stepbro!rafe #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfic

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gothcsz · 2 months ago

Text

Worst Behavior | Secret Service Agent!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~6.1k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Tired of living in the confines of being the President's daughter— you sneak out, only to be caught by the head of your security, Javier Peña.

Tags: smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20s/javier is in his 40s), mean!javi i think, hurt/no comfort?, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), creampie, oral (m receiving), cock worship (i need to suck this man off), fingering, degrading names (slut, whore), semi-public sex (a car in the alleyway because i'm incapable of writing bedroom sex scenes apparently), infidelity (javi is married to lorraine in this au), dubcon (reader is drunk throughout this), no use of y/n, no physical descriptions, if it gets redundant it's because i wrote this at 4 am, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: secret service counts as bodyguard, right? right! this is for @auteurdelabre's amazing trope off with the trope i chose being, well, bodyguard 🖤 i had a lot of fun writing this, rip brat summer you will be missed! let me know what you think besties, i hope you guys enjoy! 🖤

The garden party is just like all the others—stuffy, overly formal, and dreadfully boring.

Crisp white tablecloths, lavish floral arrangements, and people so proper they could break under the weight of their own fake smiles. You sit there, listening to the endless parade of politicians and diplomats, watching them laugh at jokes that aren’t funny, and nod through speeches about policies that barely concern you.

You hate it. All of it. The politics, the empty pleasantries, the way people look at you like you’re a porcelain doll who must be carefully handled. But tonight’s different.

Tonight, you have a plan.

Feigning a headache? Easy. You’ve been doing it for years, perfecting the art of slipping away unnoticed. You even relish the concerned whispers, the fake sympathy in their eyes.

She can’t even handle a small gathering. Poor thing.

The moment you’re out of sight, the act drops. The tension releases, and your heart races, not from anxiety but from excitement.

You time your bathroom trip perfectly, ducking out of the guest quarters and navigating through the mansion’s less-frequented hallways.

Slipping past the Secret Service isn’t easy, but you’ve learned the gaps in their routine, the places they don’t check. It takes skill, but tonight, you’ve got it.

You’re free.

The rush of adrenaline is intoxicating. It feels foreign, but oh so thrilling, like the first breath of fresh air after being stifled for too long. You aren’t just her anymore— not the perfect girl with the pressure of a nation’s eyes on you, not the symbol of a legacy you never wanted.

You’re just a girl. You’re you.

The club hits you like a shock to the system, but it’s exactly what you crave. The air is thick with heat and bodies, the music pounding so loudly it thrums through your bones, syncing with the beat of your heart. It’s the opposite of everything your life has been—raw, chaotic, real. You feel the tightness of the dress hugging your body, a deliberate rebellion against the prim, conservative outfits you’re usually forced to wear.

There’s nothing modest about this. It clings to every curve, drawing eyes.

The alcohol hits fast, warm and buzzing, setting your blood on fire and sharpening your senses. You raise your arms, let the music take you. Let it drown out the noise in your head— the expectations, the responsibilities, the endless duties.

Your date’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers dig in just enough for you to feel anchored, his breath warm against your neck. You lean back into him, letting the heat of his body and the thrum of the bass take you somewhere far away from reality.

You aren’t the girl born with a silver spoon shoved down her throat, suffocating in the luxury you never asked for. No cameras, no protocols, no rules. Just you, him, and the music.

His hands are everywhere, gliding over your hips, fingertips brushing the hem of your barely-there dress. His lips press against your neck, and you let your head fall back, enjoying yourself for the first time in forever.

Everything feels hazy, dreamlike. His mouth moves to your ear, the scrape of his breath sending shivers down your spine, whispering something about sneaking off to the bathroom.

The idea is scandalous and that alone makes you want to indulge it even more. You close your eyes, swaying with him, floating.

The world outside of this moment feels so far away. You don’t even notice the man cutting through the crowd, coming straight toward you.

Not until a large, strong hand clamps down around your arm and yanks you out of your date’s grasp.

You gasp, eyes snapping open, and spin around, blinking against the blur of neon lights, your heart jumping into your throat. Your gaze lifts and you see him— Javier Peña. Oh, shit.

You immediately recognize the stern, commanding face, dark eyes sharp even in the low light of the club. He’s the head of your security, the one you juked earlier when you slipped away from the garden party.

And the look he’s giving you right now? It’s killer. Could easily send you to an early grave.

His brows are furrowed in a deep frown, lips set in a tight line, his usual stoic expression sharpened by the flashing lights around you. His jaw is clenched so hard, you’re afraid he’s going to dislocate it. His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, burning with barely restrained fury.

You’ve been in trouble before, but this? This is something else.

“Hey, man, what the fuck is your problem?” Your date yells, trying to stand his ground, though his voice wavers a bit as he raises it above the music. For a second, you think he might actually try to do something.

Javier straightens up, his broad shoulders squared, chest puffing out, and it’s like watching a lion preparing to pounce. The guy you’re with, barely older than you, tries to hold his own, but as Javier towers over him, something in your date just... crumbles. The bravado slips from his face so quickly.

“I’d suggest you get the fuck away from her,” Javier growls, his voice low and deadly, “before I have the SWAT team outside drag your sorry ass to federal prison.” His words cut through the air like a knife, and even in the middle of the pounding music, the threat hangs heavy.

Your date’s eyes go wide, panic flickering across his face as he stumbles back. There’s no arguing with a man like that.

The guy might have been cocky a minute ago, but he’s not stupid.

He takes one last glance at you, like he’s weighing his options, but it’s clear he’s already made up his mind. Without another word, he’s scrambling away, blending into the crowd.

The people around you keep dancing, completely oblivious to the scene that just played out. But your heart is still pounding in your chest, your arm tingling where Javier’s grip lingers, and you can feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.

You glance up at him, breathless, and he looks back at you, his jaw still tight, eyes still stormy. God, he’s intense. And somehow, that only makes the heat between you burn hotter.

He’s livid. You don’t need words to understand that.

“Peña—” you start, trying to find your voice, but it falters under the intensity of his glare. You’re used to seeing him calm, collected, the perfect professional.

That damn RJF— Resting Javi Face, as you’ve coined it. He never breaks, no matter how much you’ve tried to mess with him in the past.

You’ve spent years teasing him, trying to crack his cool exterior, just to see him react, to get something more than that unwavering stone face. But he never gives you more than the occasional twitch of his jaw, a flick of his brow.

Until now.

Seeing him like this, thoroughly pissed off, stirs something deep inside you, something that’s both thrilling and dangerous. You can’t help the way your heart skips or how your skin flushes beneath his grip.

You’ve always found him damn near irresistible— ever since the moment you first laid eyes on him when your mom reworked your security detail. He became your personal heartthrob, eye candy for the days when you were stuck inside the house, surrounded by guards and endless rules.

You’d never act on it, though. Especially since he’s married, that much you know by the golden band that wraps around his ring finger.

However, the way he’s looking at you now, with those smoldering eyes, is doing something to you. More than just a flutter in your chest. Anticipation pools at the base of your spine, and— damn— you’re definitely feeling it between your thighs.

He’s clearly ready to drag you back to the mansion and lock you up for good.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” His voice is gravelly and laced with a level of frustration that almost makes you moan. He leans down, his face inches from yours, and you can smell the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the alcohol-soaked air. It’s dizzying. “I’ve been looking for you for hours.”

The accusation in his tone is unmistakable, but you can’t help the smirk that curls at the corner of your lips. The alcohol you’ve consumed gives you some hardcore liquid courage. “Found me now, didn’t you?”

His eyes flash with something you can’t quite read— anger, annoyance. He takes a step closer, his chest brushing against yours. You’re buzzing all over, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re in trouble, or because the way his presence towers over you is doing things to you that no man has ever done before.

“You think this is a game?” His voice drops lower, a dangerous edge to it that sends a delicious thrill through your body.

It feels like the music has been put on mute with the way you can hear him so clearly.

You’d definitely pass out if not for how bad you want him.

His fingers tense just a little more around your arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that you’re under his reign right now.

“I didn’t—” you start, but the words die in your throat when he leans in even closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Let’s fucking go” His tone is final, commanding, and it leaves no room for argument. You can’t help but want to push him a little more.

You bite your lip, feeling the pulse of desire starting its familiar beat against your clit.

“Make me.”

The way he yanks you through the sea of sweaty bodies has you stumbling, your heels wobbling beneath you as a surprised yelp escapes your lips.

The liquor in your system makes it all a blur— the music returns all at once and it jump scares you back to your surroundings; lights flashing, then suddenly, you’re outside in the cool night air.

The alley is dark and quiet compared to the chaos inside the building, the only sound now the distant bass reverberating through the walls. His government issued black SUV sits nearby, its tinted windows gleaming under the dim streetlights.

So no SWAT team? Figures, he probably just said that to scare your date away.

He finally lets go of your arm, and you pull away sharply, rubbing the spot where his grip lingered a little too tight.

“I’m not leaving,” you declare, lifting your chin defiantly. You plant your stiletto clad feet, standing your ground, even though the alcohol is still buzzing through your veins, making everything feel unsteady but bold.

Javier lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he scratches his jaw. His hands settle on his narrow waist, the standard suit and tie he’s always in, making him look even more handsome.

“You’re not leaving?” he repeats, as if testing the absurdity of your statement. He arches a brow, his lips curling in a sarcastic smirk. “You think this is a negotiation? Because I can assure you, it’s not.”

You cross your arms over your chest, the dress clinging to your skin like a second layer, you can damn near see your heartbeat through the material as you lock eyes with him. “I’m tired of always following someone else’s schedule. Living in my mother’s shadow, doing what I’m told, when I’m told. You don’t get it, Peña. You have no idea what it’s like to have every aspect of your life controlled by someone else.” You can’t help but ramble, tongue loose, “I never get a damn second to myself, to do anything I want!” Your voice rises with each word, frustration boiling over, the alcohol making you bolder than you’d normally be. “So, no. I’m staying right here and enjoying my night out.”

Javier’s smirk disappears, replaced by a hard, unyielding stare. His brown eyes remain dark and guarded, the nearby orange street light casting shadows across his chiseled face. “You’re acting like a spoiled brat,” he says flatly. “This is the life you’re stuck with until your mother is out of office. It’s not about what you want. You think you can just sneak away because it’s inconvenient? Because it’s hard?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, swaying slightly. “Easy for you to say, standing there in your perfect little suit, playing agent while I drown every day under the pressure of expectations I never asked for.”

Javier’s jaw flexes. “It could be a whole lot worse. You don’t like it? Too bad. Your mother doesn’t even know you’ve snuck out, and I’m not about to let her find out. I need to get you sober and back to the White House before she realizes you’re missing.” His tone is final, like he’s already made up his mind.

You step forward, eyes flashing with rebellion. “Or,” you play right into his hands, switching up entirely. A slow, deliberate, small smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth.

His eyes narrow as he watches you approach, hands still at his waist.

You trail a finger along the edge of his tie, tugging it gently, testing his reaction. He swallows harshly, throat twitching at the action. “Why don’t we both stay? Let loose and have some fun,” you purr, low and teasing, fluttering your eyes as you look up at him. “We could both use a night off.”

He grits his teeth and pulls back slightly, but not enough to break the moment. “Don’t,” he warns, tone laden with something that sounds a lot less like anger and more like desire. “You’re drunk. This isn’t happening.”

“Am I?” You are, obviously. “Or are you just afraid that you’ll like it?” You challenge him, cocking your head to the side slightly.

“What’s the matter, Javier? Is your wife not fulfilling her duties at home? Is that why you’re obsessed with me?”

That strikes a nerve. “Enough,” he growls, voice strained and mean. You don’t give a single fuck, leaning in even closer, your lips ghosting over his jaw. His breath is ragged now, hand twitching at his side, as if he’s debating whether to push you away or pull you closer.

You don’t care that this is dangerous, that it’s wrong. All you care about is the way he’s looking at you now, like he’s been holding back for far too long. And maybe, just maybe, tonight is the night he listens to that voice in his head that’s been craving you all along.

“You’re not pushing me away…” you whisper, “Which makes me think that I’m right about your wife.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you feel him tense up. The thrill of his reaction is like electricity.

His silence only emboldens you, makes you lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear as you stand on the tips of your toes. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head, the conflict, the desire.

“So why don’t we just fuck?” you say it so bluntly, it almost sobers you up. Your lips are so close to his that you can almost taste him. The small hairs of his mustache tickle your cupid’s bow. “Get it over with. Scratch the itch.”

His hand shoots up, holding your jaw, stopping you in your tracks. His grip is tight, making you wince as his fingers dig into your cheeks.

His eyes carry a storm, filled with the kind of hunger you’ve been dying to see from him.

“You really do think this is a game, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

He moves quickly, using the hold on your face to pull you in for a bruising kiss. It’s not soft or gentle— it’s hungry, desperate, all teeth and tongue as he devours you.

His lips are adamant against yours, rough from the way he’s been biting them in frustration. You can taste the desperation, the pent-up desire.

You kiss him back just as fiercely, your body pressing into his, hands fisting in the front of his suit jacket as you pull him closer. There’s no space between you, no hesitation left. You whimper against his mouth, head spinning from the alcohol still pulsing through your veins and the way his hands have found your waist, gripping you tight.

He pulls away just long enough to breathe, his forehead pressing against yours. “You’re out of your damn mind,” he mutters, but even as he says it, his hands are pulling you in again, pressing your hips against his as if he can’t stop himself.

His eyes are wild now, the usual cool detachment replaced with a recklessness that matches yours.

“And you’re loving every second of it,” you murmur back, your lips already brushing against his again, teasing him, daring him to take more.

Javier growls deep in his throat, and suddenly, he’s spinning then guiding you toward the SUV. You stumble backward, your heels clicking against the pavement, barely able to keep up with his pace yet again.

He pushes you up against the side of the vehicle, your back hitting the cool metal with a soft thud. The contrast between the cold steel and his burning touch sends shivers down your spine. And then his mouth is on yours again, harder this time, his body pressing you into the car, his hands roaming over your curves like he’s been starving for this.

Your fingers card through his hair as you pull him closer, wanting more, needing more. His lips trail down your neck, his stubble scraping against your softness. He nips at the sensitive skin just below your ear, making you gasp.

You arch against him, body responding to every rough touch and kiss. His hands fall over the fabric of your dress, tugging at the hem, sliding it up your thigh.

“Fucking with me all the time just to get me to react,” his fingers press firmly against your clit, teasing through the thin fabric of your panties. The sensation has you whimpering, your head falling back against the metal.

“Then sneaking out like this. I could lose my job over your carelessness.” His teeth sink into your neck, sharp and punishing, making you gasp in surprise, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“But no,” he hisses, his words dripping with contempt as he presses harder, fingers circling your clit in a way that makes your knees weak, hooking one of your legs up on his waist to spread you open further for him “the perfect princess doesn’t give a fuck. She’s too busy whining about being taken care of.” His free hand yanks at your panties, and the flimsy fabric gives way with a harsh tear, leaving you exposed.

The sudden rush of cool air against your hot skin is nothing compared to the feel of his calloused fingers returning to your pussy, spreading the wetness around before plunging two fingers inside you roughly.

The stretch is intense, and you moan loudly, cunt squeezing around his fingers as he works you with a rough precision, like he knows exactly how to break you down.

“You talk a lot for someone who’s fucking a woman half your age,” you bite out, but the words are weak, caught somewhere between a challenge and a plea.

You’re playing a dangerous move here, but the power struggle between you and him is addictive, like a live wire sizzling between you both.

He stops suddenly, fingers still inside you, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His expression is dark, dangerous, and filled with something primal. His free hand comes up to wrap around your neck, the cool band of his ring against your heated skin sends a shock through you, and you narrow your eyes at him, daring him to make his next move.

“Tired of you runnin’ that fucking mouth,” he grunts, tightening his grip on your throat just enough to make your breath hitch. With his other hand, he undoes his belt, the gentle clink of metal the only warning you get before he’s pushing you down roughly to your knees.

Your eyes widen as you look up at him, your heart racing. “Here?” you whisper, your voice breathy, equal parts shocked and exhilarated.

Javier tilts his head, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he strokes himself, his cock heavy and girthy in his hand. “So now you care?” His tone is patronizing, but his eyes are filled with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. You bite your lip as your gaze drifts lower, unable to stop yourself from taking in the sheer size of him, the pressure between your thighs building to an unreachable height.

Without another word, he brings you closer by the back of your neck, and your mouth parts instinctively. Your tongue swirls around the spongy tip, tasting the salty slickness of his precome. His fingers dig into your scalp as he guides your movements, but it doesn’t take long for his hips to start thrusting forward, fucking your mouth with no patience, no hesitation.

The pace is brutal, your throat burning as he pushes deeper. His thighs twitch ever so often and you can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding back just enough to not completely unravel.

Saliva dribbles from the corners of your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks and smudging your perfectly applied makeup as you suck him off with desperation.

Your knees ache from grinding against the rough pavement, but the pain is nothing compared to the mess in your cunt, the need building with every rough move.

“Who would’ve thought you could be such a slut,” Javier grunts, his hand gripping the back of your head, keeping you in place. His words are condescending, each syllable dripping with lust.

He pulls you off his cock, a string of spit connecting your lips to his flushed head. “You look so fuckin’ filthy like this,” a cruel smirk is on his lips as he directs your mouth lower, pressing your face against his balls.

Now drunk on him— on the power he’s holding over you, on the taste of him filling your senses— you eagerly obey, your tongue darting out to trace his heavy sack. You moan as you take each one into your mouth, suckling gently, savoring the weight and the taste of him. His low groan above you is all the encouragement you need to keep going, your lips moving greedily as you continue to worship him with no hands.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the rough sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Had I known you were this good at sucking dick, I would’ve fucked that pretty little throat ages ago.”

His words spur you on, making you feel powerful, wanted, as though you’re giving him something he’s been missing. Something his wife can’t provide. The thought stirs something dark inside of you, a thrill that mixes with the burning in your pussy as you take him back into your mouth, deep-throating him in one smooth motion.

Your palm finally reaches up, fondling his balls as you move, your throat contracting around him with every stroke, the sound of your gagging filling the alley.

You pull him out again, spitting on his cock and pumping him with both hands, your grip slick as you work him faster, relishing in the way his head tips back, eyes squeezed shut in bliss.

After a few more minutes of your sloppy, eager blowjob, he groans and yanks you off him, his hands rough as he drags you to your feet. Before you can process what’s happening, he’s thrown open the backdoor of the SUV, damn near tossing you inside before climbing in behind you.

The moment he’s inside, his badge and gun are discarded to the side, and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap as he leans back against the seat. His cock is hard and slick, pressing against your soaked entrance, but he doesn’t push inside yet.

Instead, he yanks the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts, and immediately latches his mouth onto one of your nipples. His wet tongue swirls around the sensitive bud as his free hand pinches and tugs at the other, sending shocks of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You moan loudly, your hips grinding down against his dick, sliding him between your slick folds, teasing both of you.

You’ve made a mess of his white shirt and part of his slacks.

You wonder if he’ll go home to her like this. Kiss her with the same mouth that’s kissed you.

Every inch of your skin is on fire, the need to have him inside of you building with every passing second.

“Javier, please,” you whine, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push yourself down onto him.

He pulls away from your breast with a wet pop, “Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as his hand trails down your body, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Begging for my cock like a whore.”

You bite your lip, your pride long forgotten as you look down at him, a needy expression painting your face. “Please, Javi,” you beg, grinding harder against him, feeling the thick head of his cock press against your entrance. “I need you. Please— fuck me.”

He chuckles darkly, his grip on your hips bruising the skin as he holds you still. “You think I’m just gonna give you what you want after the way you’ve been acting?”

Before you can respond, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting of the spank making you cry out in surprise. “Javi!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles, landing another spank on the other cheek. “You want my cock? Earn it.”

You moan, your body trembling as the pain mixes with the pleasure coursing through you. His words, his rough treatment— it only makes you want him more. “Please,” you sob, your voice shaky as you wiggle your hips, trying to push him inside, the lingering sting of his smacks vibrating against your plush skin.

He groans, and in one swift motion, he thrusts up into you, his cock stretching you wide as he sinks deep inside. You cry at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing before relaxing as the pleasure of being filled washes over you.

“Fuck,” it feels like his cock has punched you in the lungs, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to move, riding him slowly at first, your head thrown back as you savor the feeling of him inside of you. “So fucking big.”

Javier grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he guides your movements, bucking up into you as you swivel your hips. “That’s it,” his teeth graze your neck as he thrusts harder, deeper. “Take it, princess. Take every inch.”

You moan loudly, your body then bouncing on his lap as you both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment.

Nothing else matters except the way he feels inside you and the filthy words spilling from his lips as you fuck each other like you’ve both been waiting for this for far too long.

The sounds coming from both of you—wet, filthy, primal—fill the confined space of the SUV. The smell of sex and leather in the air.

Each thrust of his hips sends you spiraling closer to the edge, your bodies colliding in a frenzied rhythm that makes the vehicle rock with your movements. Thank fucking God the windows are tinted.

Javier’s hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your frantic movements, his cock buried deep inside of you, hitting every spot that makes you cry out in pleasure.

Eyes are half-lidded as he watches your breasts bounce while you hop on his dick.

His lips part, a low groan escaping him as he feels you flutter around him, your pussy tightening with the promise of your impending orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grits out. He’s close— so fucking close— and the way you’re moving, the way you’re so desperate for him, makes it impossible for him to hold back much longer.

His brow furrows, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face as he thrusts up into you harder, faster— chasing his own release. “You’re gonna make me come, princess,” he groans, his fingers digging into your skin as he bites down on his lower lip.

Your head falls back, your lips parted in a breathless moan as the band inside you snaps. “Javi,” you mewl, barely able to get his name out as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, sending your body trembling and convulsing around him. “Oh fuck, I’m coming,” you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm ripples through you. “Harder— please.”

He grits his teeth once he feels you unravel around him, your pussy clenching against his cock. It gets him there with you, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as his hips jerk up harshly a few more times time.

His release hits him hard, spilling into you without asking, but you don’t notice nor care. You both ride out the aftershocks together, tangled in each other’s arms, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, the car still rocking slightly as the final thrusts slow.

For a brief moment, everything is still. Your fingers trailing over his skin as you try to catch even out your breathing.

But then, reality slams back into focus.

Javier’s body goes rigid beneath you, his hands releasing their grip on your hips as if what just happened is sinking in all at once. “Get off,” he mutters, his voice suddenly sharp. “Now.”

You blink, disoriented, still riding the afterglow, but the tone of his voice cuts through the haze. You hesitate for a second, looking down at him, trying to read his expression. There’s no trace of the infatuation that had consumed him just moments ago. Instead, his face is etched with regret, his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight.

“Javi…” you start, but he cuts you off, his hand coming up to push you gently but firmly off his lap.

“Get. Off,” he repeats, leaving no room for argument.

You pull away, your body trembling slightly as you move off him, awkwardly adjusting your dress. The tension is suffocating as Javier quickly pulls up his pants, his hands shaking slightly as he fastens his belt. He’s avoiding your gaze, his brows furrowed in frustration as he runs a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

“We need to go,” his voice is cold and distant, as if the intimacy you just shared never happened. “Before your mother declares a state of emergency on the entire country.”

He digs into his pocket, your ruined panties then are tossed at you and you bite your lip, feeling the sting of rejection settle deep in your chest.

Once he’s fixed his clothes, Javier moves with a tense efficiency, reholstering his gun and straightening his badge like nothing happened.

His movements are mechanical, as if he’s trying to regain control, trying to rebuild that wall he always hides behind. You sit there, watching him in silence, a real icy feeling knotting in your chest.

He doesn’t look at you as he steps out of the SUV, slamming the door behind him forcefully and it makes you flinch. The loud thud echoes through the car, leaving you alone in the backseat with nothing but your racing thoughts and destroyed underwear.

The shame snaps into you then, creeping up your spine and spreading through your body like poison. You wipe the smeared makeup from under your eyes, fix your dress, but there’s no saving it. Literally and metaphorically.

He slips into the driver’s seat a moment later. He doesn’t say a word.

You sink back into the leather seat, the silence absolutely deafening. The back of the car feels like a cage now— your earlier exhilaration has all but disappeared. All that’s left is this gnawing sense of regret swirling in your gut.

The engine hums to life as he drives out of the alleyway, his movements precise and methodical, the way they always are when he’s on the job.

Like he’s already compartmentalizing.

You consider saying something— anything to break the silence that’s strangling you both— but the words die on your lips. What would you even say?

“You should’ve never snuck out,” Javier finally speaks lowly, as if it’s painful for him to even acknowledge the situation. “You’re lucky no one saw you.”

There’s an edge to his words, but it’s not the usual reprimand. Rather just regret, frustration, and anger all wrapped into one.

You don’t respond right away, your eyes fixed on the traffic ahead. “I don’t care,” you finally mutter, more to yourself than to him. “I’m sick of it. Of all of it.” You pause, your throat tight with emotion. “For once, I just wanted to feel like I was in control.”

Javier lets out a harsh breath, his hands tightening on the wheel. “Control? ” He scoffs, his tone biting. “You don’t even know what that word means.”

You turn your head to glare at him, heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not a fucking child.” He chuckles at that, wordlessly saying otherwise. “And you don’t know what it’s like to live my life,” you snap, the frustration boiling over. “To constantly be watched, to have every move scrutinized, to be paraded around like some perfect fucking doll when I didn’t ask for any of it.”

His grip on the wheel loosens slightly, but his face remains impassive. “None of this is new,” he reminds you, “You knew what your life would be like when your mother was re-elected. It’s not about you anymore. It never was.”

You feel the sting of his words, but you refuse to back down. “Maybe it should be,” you say, your voice trembling with anger. “Maybe I should get to live my life the way I want to. Not the way everyone else expects me to.”

Brown eyes flicker toward you in the rearview mirror for a split second. He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter,” his voice is tight. “You can try again in four years.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you sink deeper into the seat. “You just want to pretend this never happened.”

Javier’s silence is answer enough.

The rest of the ride is quiet and tense. When you finally pull up to the back gates of the White House, you sigh when your lavish prison comes into view and when he parks right outside the private entrance that you and the rest of your family get in and out of.

Javier glances in the rearview mirror one final time, his expression unreadable, before he cuts the engine and steps out.

He opens the back door for you, his handsome face set in that familiar stoic mask. “Let’s go,” he orders, tone flat, devoid of the erotic emotions from earlier.

You hesitate, a pout forming on your lips, the confidence you’d wielded earlier crumbling to dust. Your legs wobble as you step out, shaky and weak from how he fucked you

He shrugs off his jacket and throws it over your bare shoulders. The gesture would’ve felt protective, maybe even tender, in another moment. But now, it’s a calculated move to cover up the evidence of what you just did. He’s not doing it for you— he’s doing it for his job.

He walks you inside, his large hand resting lightly at your lower back as if guiding you, but the warmth you once felt from his touch is nowhere to be found. His eyes dart around the hall, scoping the area, making sure none of the other agents that he commands are around to see you.

He nods curtly when the coast is clear, a silent gesture to keep moving. You feel like a liability— something to be hidden away, managed, not the girl who he was just balls deep inside.

The heels you’re wearing are muted against the thick carpet as you walk down the long hallway toward your bedroom. Each step feels like an eternity.

When you finally reach your bedroom door, he pulls the jacket from your shoulders without a word. You blink back the sting of tears, throat tightening at the action.

He’s not just being distant—he’s erasing you, erasing the moment, wiping it all away like it meant nothing.

Because it hadn’t meant a damn thing. He is married, after all. You were nothing but an easy fuck. A form of relief. Eye candy for him as he was for you.

Without looking back or saying anything, you push open the door and step inside. The soft click of the latch as you shut it in his face echoes in the stillness and you don’t need to look back to know that there’s nothing behind those brown eyes for you anymore.

#tropeoff2024 #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #pedro pascal #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fic #javier peña narcos #kat's writing.

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punkshort · 3 months ago

Text

Swept Away | Chapter 5: Riptide

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: On the last day aboard the yacht, you get to spend some alone time with Joel, and things heat up.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, implied drug use, jealousy, angst, flirting, sexual tension, thigh/bulge riding, dry humping

WC: 8.1K

A/N: happy birthday @itsafullmoon 😘

Series Masterlist

Joel's fingers shyly found your knee underneath the table and you held back a smile. Instead, you focused on your breakfast, one that pleased him to see you were actually consuming, while he sipped his coffee.

It was another warm day, the heat already climbing and it was barely nine in the morning. As you looked around the rest of the table, you noticed most of the guests looked just about as hungover as you felt, yet they still insisted on indulging in more mimosas and Bloody Marys.

You chose to stick with water and coffee.

There were some quiet conversations being held around you, but mostly you shut it all out in favor of gazing out over the crystal blue ocean. Joel's thumb brushed over your knuckles and when you breathed in deep, you could smell the salt in the air. It made you feel completely at ease, the drama and your argument from the day before the furthest thing from your mind.

Well, maybe not the furthest. You still side eyed Tammy when you both sat down to join everyone that morning, but you decided to let it go. Joel's admission that he hadn't been with her in a year gave you some peace, and you weren't going to allow her to get under your skin. Instead, you were determined to enjoy the last day out at sea because, according to Glenn, the yacht was planning to dock back on your island rather early the following morning.

"We're supposed to stop in a few hours so we can do some water sports. You ever been on a jet ski? Or they got these aqua toys that'll take you under the water so you can see the fish. You wanna do any of that?" His voice sounded slightly nervous as he rambled, something you found incredibly endearing.

"Both sound fun. Whatever you want to do," you told him with a small smile. He was trying very hard, you could tell. You weren't sure if it was guilt that was driving him, or if it was the way you woke up accidentally wrapped in each other's arms, but either way, you enjoyed this side of him.

Just the thought of that morning made your cheeks burn and you had to look back down at your plate. You had a feeling he might have been thinking about it too because he shifted his weight in his seat and released your knee, draping his arm behind your chair instead while he pretended to listen to something Zachary was saying with the tips of his ears turning red.

That morning, your face had been pressed up against his chest, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, facing one another. Before you even opened your eyes, you could smell him. That distinct scent of hair products, expensive cologne and soap, faded by that point, but still lingering on his skin. One of his legs was slotted between yours. A dangerous place, to be sure. All he really needed to do was roll you both over and his hips would have pressed enticingly against your center.

When your gaze flickered up, expecting to find him fast asleep, you were surprised when you locked eyes. It appeared that he had been awake for a while. Sleep no longer clouded his eyes. So if the way you woke up together was an accident, why didn't he pull away? Why did he continue to stare down at you without withdrawing his limbs from yours? Why did his eyes scan your face and linger on your lips?

And why didn't he kiss you?

"Say, when are you two lovebirds getting married? Set a date yet?" Glenn's voice boomed from the head of the table with a wide smile. His linen shirt unbuttoned halfway down, revealing a mass of grey curls scattered all across his chest.

Joel's grip on the back of your chair tightened and he looked at you affectionately.

"We haven't picked a date yet, but I've always loved springtime," you replied dreamily.

"Then springtime, it is," Joel murmured, then leaned forward to press a kiss against your temple.

"We had a spring wedding," Tammy piped up from across the table. She curled into Scott's side, pulling his arm around her shoulders and you spotted Zoe stifling a laugh next to her. "May 21st. I was so nervous it was going to rain, the forecast called for it all week but when we woke up that morning the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I told Scott at the time it felt like fate. Right? Remember, honey?"

He smiled and curled his fingers around her arm, his eyes flickering back and forth as if he were scanning his memories, desperately trying to remember.

"Of course I do," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Maybe we should get married here. On the beach," you announced, narrowing your eyes in Tammy's direction. "Then we wouldn't have to worry about rain."

Joel chuckled next to you, his thumb brushing gently over your back. "Whatever you say, baby."

"Now you're gettin' it, Joel," laughed Jack, Lynne's husband.

"Oh, no. You should get married at home. Nobody likes to travel for a wedding," Tammy challenged, and you bristled.

"I don't think anyone would mind traveling to Fiji," Harry interjected, and suddenly it seemed like the entire table was involved, previously private clusters of conversation long forgotten in favor of discussing your fake wedding plans.

"Yes, well," Tammy said, fixing a few invisible flyaways, "even so. Guests prefer to stay near their home. Won't you be afraid of alienating people on your special day if you choose a destination wedding?" she asked, tilting her head to the side questioningly.

You probably shouldn't have let it bother you. After all, your entire relationship was a farce, but you couldn't help yourself.

"It doesn't matter to me," you replied airily with a shrug. "The only one I want there is Joel."

When you looked up at him, you could see the playful glint in his eye. He knew what you were doing. He knew Tammy was bothering you and knew goddamn well why.

And he fucking liked it.

His lips curled up into a smile and he inched a little closer, wrapping his arm around you a little tighter, and you felt a shiver run through your body when his lips met yours once again.

You decided to blame it on the leftover tension from that morning, but you flicked your tongue against his lips, looking to deepen the kiss. Joel only hesitated for a second before parting his lips and slowly sliding his tongue into your mouth. It took everything in you not to moan into the kiss, knowing full well how inappropriate it already was, so after allowing yourself just another moment to enjoy it, you breathlessly pulled away. He smirked at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire, a look you no doubt mirrored back.

"What do you think, Joel?" Tammy asked, clearly trying to crack the tension brewing between the two of you. "Don't you have family you'd want there?"

Family.

Why did she say it like that?

Joel's expression changed instantly. Something flickered across his face and his lips twitched nervously when he dropped his gaze to the table.

Then it clicked.

She knew something about him. Something she was taunting him with in front of the whole table.

You desperately wanted to know what she was insinuating, but your bigger issue was not knowing anything about his damn family whatsoever because as he foolishly told you on the plane, it won't come up.

So you had to think fast.

"Anyone who loves us will make the effort to be there. Right, baby?" you purred, stretching an arm to circle around the back of his neck. He dragged his eyes up to meet yours and you gave him a subtle nod.

That's right, look at me.

"Yeah," he agreed, and you could see his resolve coming back the longer you clung around him.

"Oh, you two are just so cute," Zoe gushed. Your eyes briefly shifted to hers over Joel's shoulder and she shot you a wink.

"Maybe you should get married while you're already here," Glenn suggested. "Do another ceremony when you get home. Problem solved."

Your blood ran cold and for the first time, your mind went blank. You had no idea what to say. You looked at Joel, trying to silently convey your panic without being obvious, but he seemed perfectly at ease when he tilted his head to look at Glenn with a sly smile.

"Nah, I'll wait til my new hotel is built on that nice spot of land you got 'n we'll get married there, instead."

The table doubled over at his comment, some of the men jokingly calling him ruthless and Glenn complimenting how quick Joel was with his face all pink from laughter. You noticed with a jolt of satisfaction that Tammy was the only one at the table not laughing.

When the table finally let the topic of your wedding go, everyone falling back into their own personal conversations once again, Joel leaned into you and whispered in your ear, "good job."

You grinned and tried not to preen too much at his approval. "You, too," you said back. He scanned your face, his shoulders relaxed and the tension gone from his eyes and you swallowed thickly with a flutter in your chest. You really liked this side of him. The side that wasn't glued to his phone or laptop, the side that smiled and grazed his fingers along your back or arm for no reason.

The side that held you close while he slept.

Just then, Brooks flung the door open from the cabin and stepped out onto the deck with an apologetic look to his father. Glancing around the table, you realized then he was the only person missing from breakfast.

"Sorry," he mumbled before pulling up a seat next to Mary. "Had too much fun last night."

You tried not to stare but you couldn't stop yourself from noticing his obvious disheveled state. His clothes were wrinkled as if he slept in them, hair sticking out at all angles, and his eyes looked bloodshot and glassy.

"Sheesh, guess I wasn't the only one who drank too much," you muttered to Joel. He looked over his shoulder at Brooks, their eyes momentarily locking, before turning back to you.

"Think it's more than just booze," Joel told you softly. Your eyes widened when you remembered how fidgety Brooks seemed at Glenn's cocktail party and the pieces began to fall together.

Scott clapped his hands together after he tossed back the rest of his Bloody Mary. "What's the plan today, gang?"

Glenn checked his watch while Brooks hunched over his plate, his focus solely on his food.

"We'll find a spot around lunchtime and drop anchor. Try to find somewhere quiet so we can really open up those jet skis. Then we got a beautiful dinner at sunset. Mary wrote the menu, can't wait to see what you have planned, sweetheart," he said, lovingly curling his arm around her shoulders and giving her a kiss. She flushed and grinned, the cute display of affection making you smile.

The table began to murmur, some people standing and stretching as they discussed what they wanted to do with their last few precious hours at sea.

"Sounds like we got some time to kill," Joel said as he watched people branch off towards different sections of the boat. You spotted Scott and Jack already sidling up to Glenn while Tammy linked arms with Lynne and strolled towards the open part of the deck to sunbathe.

"You should probably spend it with Glenn," you told him, jutting your chin in his direction. When you looked back at Joel, you caught something not unlike disappointment flicker across his face before he caught himself.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, "you sure you'll be okay? Don't wanna leave you all alone."

You smiled, touched that he was showing some concern. It was a very different Joel than just a day ago, but you had to keep reminding yourself while his delivery left something to be desired, his message was correct: you were there because you had a job to do, and so was he.

"Yeah. Go get that land so we can have our dream wedding," you joked. He chuckled but when he stood, you noticed his cheeks dusting with pink.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, then reached forward and pinched your chin in exactly the same way he did when you were shopping for clothes on your first day there. "Stay outta trouble for me, will you?"

You giggled and nodded after he dropped his hand from your face. And when he tossed you a flirtatious wink over his shoulder as he was walking away, you felt your face warm and your stomach flip excitedly.

It was too late. You were already in trouble.

"Jesus, I shouldn't have drank," Zoe said nervously while you both watched the crew unload the water toys. "One lap around the yacht on a jet ski and I'll be throwing up my lunch."

"Just aim for the big, wide ocean and not Zach," you joked. Fortunately, you had stuck to your word and hadn't had a drop of alcohol all day, but you still felt your stomach drop when you watched Trevor and Brooks fly past on their jet skis, their bodies bouncing violently with each wave.

Zach called out Zoe's name, his round stomach hanging over the band of his black swim trunks, and she groaned before forcing a fake smile and flirty wave.

"Fucking kill me," she muttered before abandoning your observation post. You leaned over the railing, grinning to yourself as Zoe was getting fit for a life jacket with the fear of god in her eyes when Joel sidled up next to you.

"You wanna take a spin on one of those?" he asked, bumping gently against your shoulder with his own. His skin looked bronzed from all the sun and his eyes sparkled as he gazed down at you.

"Uh, if you want to," you replied, biting your lip nervously when you watched Zoe and Zach take off at full throttle, the look on her face telling you everything you needed to know about the experience.

Joel noticed your hesitation and looked around.

"How 'bout we check out the inflatable stuff?" he offered. You frowned and swiveled your head back and forth. "On the other side of the boat. There's a few different ones, I think. Bit more low-key," he said, giving you an adorable shrug when you looked at him with relief.

"That sounds great," you said, then he tilted his head to the side before pushing off the rail, indicating you should follow him.

Joel was right. The crew had been inflating a couple cabanas, a trampoline and a jungle gym for you to use. Glenn and Mary were already waiting for one of the cabanas, joking with you both about how they felt like chickens for not giving the other toys a try.

The cabanas were spaced apart, the trampoline and jungle gym between them and so far you were lucky; the other guests seemed far more excited about the water toys on the other side of the boat, so you were afforded some privacy together for the first time all weekend.

"'M sorry you've been on your own so much," Joel apologized once you both got comfortable on your cabana. "But I'm makin' good progress, I can feel it. Zachary ain't got a chance in hell," he chuckled.

He sat up and gripped his linen button down shirt at the hem, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side with a grunt. You couldn't look away when his lips puckered around a bottle of water, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as he drank. A small noise got stuck in the back of your throat when he finished and a few drops fell from the bottle and trailed slowly down his sun-kissed chest.

"Ain't polite to stare, sweetheart," he said lowly without even looking your way. Your cheeks flared and you fumbled with your sunglasses, but he just chuckled and laid back down.

"Oh! Speaking of Zachary, I have something to tell you," you said, suddenly realizing after your argument the day before, you never told him what you found out.

He rolled his head to the side and squinted up at you. "Oh, yeah?"

You glanced around before leaning in and whispering, "Zoe is a sugar baby."

His eyes went wide and he scrambled to sit up.

"How'd you find that out?"

"She told me yesterday," you shrugged. Joel swallowed tightly, his mind racing.

"Did you..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish his question and insult you, but needing to know the answer.

"No! Of course not!" you exclaimed. "I wouldn't say a word, I promise."

He nodded, visibly relaxing before averting his gaze. "I just didn't... I know you were pissed yesterday, but you should know it'll void the contract if you say somethin'."

"I know," you said softly, "but regardless of the money, I still wouldn't do that to you, Joel."

Something flickered across his face, something quick that you couldn't read before he looked away and slid his sunglasses on, effectively building his wall back up.

"Oh, and another thing," you added, "she thinks he's in a bad place financially. Says if he doesn't get the bid, he might go bankrupt and have to sell his hotels."

His eyebrows raised above the top of his sunglasses and hummed under his breath, looking thoroughly impressed.

"Goddamn, look at you. Feels like I got my own little spy or somethin'," he said, making you giggle. "Might need to hire you to work for me full time when this is all over."

"Oh, yeah? Doing what?" It was impossible to keep the playfulness from your voice. As much as you tried to deny it, you really enjoyed being on the receiving end of his praise.

"Oh, I'll think of somethin'," he replied, winking at you over the tops of his sunglasses, then smirking when he watched you get all flustered.

You settled back in your seat with a sigh, watching as the other guests zoomed by on their jet skis or dove under the water with the sub aqua toys.

Joel had your number before the plane even landed in Fiji. Even though it was taking you a little longer, you were slowly starting to figure him out. One thing was for sure: his good moods were really good, but his bad moods were really bad. He was obviously a man who had grown accustomed to getting his way, a man who had high expectations for the people who worked for him and had zero tolerance for mistakes.

He was a confusing man, made even more confusing by his behavior towards you. One day he was flirting with you, touching you, kissing you, but the next day he was icy and cold and hyper focused on work.

You turned your head in his direction, watching quietly as he basked in the sun with his eyes closed, skin prickling with sweat. Were you reading too much into those little glances and touches? Was it all part of the act? Or did he feel something more? It was clear you were attracted to him. He called you out on it more than once.

So why wouldn't he fucking do something about it?

"Do you wanna go on the trampoline with me?" you asked. He cracked an eyelid and peered at you.

"I think that stuff's made for kids."

You shrugged and flung off your cover up. You caught the way his eyes raked down your body before pretending to look out at something behind you, and you grinned.

"They wouldn't have set it up if adults can't use them."

"I ain't sayin' adults can't use 'em, I'm sayin' it's childish."

You feigned offense before adjusting your bikini and dipping your toe in the water. It was crystal clear and far too inviting to resist sliding in for a quick dip. The warmth of the water engulfing your entire body sent a thrill right through you. When you bobbed back up to the surface, you brushed the hair away from your face with a sharp gasp. Turning around, you saw Joel had laid back down, his eyes closed once again and facing away from you.

"Are you sure?" you called out to him as you began to swim backwards towards the other inflatables.

"Yep," he replied without opening his eyes. A devious smile tugged at your lips and before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned back and kicked your feet wildly, splashing water all over him.

"Hey!" he shouted angrily, but you were already swimming away as fast as you could. Once you got to the trampoline, you pulled yourself up and swiveled around to see if Joel was truly pissed or if he had just laid back down, but unfortunately from your angle, you couldn't see the front of the cabana.

With a shrug, you stood up and took a few hesitant steps onto the trampoline. It was pretty large, in an octagon shape but no walls, so if you so chose, you could bounce right into the ocean. You took a couple small jumps, barely getting any air so you could get an idea of how strong it was before bending your knees and jumping as high as you could go. You laughed when you landed with your legs tucked under you, relaxing your muscles so you could bounce this way and that until you lost momentum and rolled onto your back.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, enjoying the sway of the ocean underneath you. In the distance, you could hear voices from the others on the water sports, mostly squeals of excitement and barking laughs, but otherwise you were completely at peace.

Before you even had a chance to process it, the trampoline dipped and you were suddenly drenched with water. You shrieked and snapped your eyes open, heart slamming in your chest from shock just to find Joel standing above you smirking with an empty plastic drink bucket in his hand.

You swung your leg out, kicking his legs out from under him. The bucket went flying when he collapsed next to you with a loud, deep laugh you weren't sure you had heard from him before. The sound brought a huge smile to your face only to gasp and yelp when he leapt onto all fours and shook his head like a dog, showering you with the water soaking his hair.

You raised your arms in defense, desperately trying to protect yourself.

"Stop!" you half yelled, half giggled from underneath your hands. Finally, the water stopped raining down on you and you slowly dropped your hands from your face.

Joel was smiling down at you victoriously, his arms bracketing you in on either side of your head. The sun shined brightly behind him, making his wet hair and tanned skin practically fucking sparkle.

"No fair," you whispered.

"Never said I play fair."

You swallowed when you saw his eyes darken, his gaze lazily sliding down your face, your neck, your chest, brazenly taking in every bit of you he could see. He swung his leg over your waist, pinning you down into the trampoline when he sat back on your thighs so he could take the weight off one of his arms. To your surprise, he cupped your jaw and dragged the pad of his thumb over your cheek, carefully and tenderly wiping away the droplets of water from your face while you struggled to remember to breathe beneath him. And just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he spoke again.

"Did I make you all wet, baby?"

Fuck. You squeezed your eyes shut, the low tone in his voice making it very clear he knew he was tormenting you, making you squirm and bite your lip while you fought to keep a clear head.

"'S'matter? Dish it out but can't take it?" he tsked, his fingers gliding down to trace your lower lip. Your eyes flashed open, your lips tingling under his touch and breath coming in shallow pants. You locked eyes with him and opened your mouth so you could wrap your lips around the tip of his thumb. It sent a surge of satisfaction through you when you saw his eyes go wide and his jaw fall slack. The corners of your mouth twisted up into a smile around his finger, your tongue flicking suggestively against the tip. All the smugness from a moment before vanished from his face, and the only thing that remained was surprise and undeniable lust.

Joel said your name warningly, his eyes glued to the way your mouth was wrapped around his thumb. He could have easily pulled his hand away, but he didn't. He let you swirl your tongue around him, gazing up at him through your wet lashes, your arms lying limp next to your head, painting the perfect picture of obedience and that was when you felt it: a small twitch against your thigh, one he tried to hide by shifting his weight but it was too late. A look of triumph flared in your eye when you released his finger with a grin.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to make it hard on you."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Funny."

You stared at one another for a heavy moment, Joel still pinning you onto the trampoline. You waited for him to do something, say something... anything to acknowledge the elephant in the room before you lost your mind. And for one brief moment, you thought he just might. His lips parted, his expression softened and you held your breath, waiting for it. Then suddenly it was like a door slammed shut. He rolled off you in an instant, leaving you feeling cold despite the tropical, humid heat.

"I'm gonna get somethin' to drink. Want anythin'?"

You shook your head in a daze, the sharp turn of events sending you reeling.

"No."

Then you heard a splash and listened while he swam back to the cabana, leaving you with a devastating ache between your legs and more confused than you thought possible.

Despite Joel leaving you wanting more, you still couldn't wipe the smile from your face the entire afternoon. And it seemed like he couldn't, either. Something felt like it changed in him that day. He appeared more relaxed and happier than you had seen him the entire week you'd been on the island.

It was the reason you were distracted on your way back to your room. You told Joel you were going to take a quick shower and change before dinner right before he got roped into a game of poker with Glenn and a few others, but not before giving you a quick peck on the lips. After he hurried to catch up with the others, you glanced around and found no one was there to witness your little kiss. It wasn't for show.

Your mind was swirling with images of Joel, replaying everything with a stupid smile on your face when you turned the corner of the quiet hallway.

"Oh!" you cried out when you collided with something, or rather someone, firm and strong walking from the opposite direction.

"Hey, there," Brooks said, grabbing onto your shoulders to keep you steady. You took a step back, removing yourself from his hold, and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Wasn't watching where I was going."

You moved to step around him when he blocked you with an extended arm and you looked up at him questioningly.

"Having a good time so far?"

"Uh huh," you replied, folding your arms in front of your chest when you noticed his gaze wandering down. "This yacht is amazing, we're having a great time."

Brooks smiled and propped his hand up so he could lean against the wall, fingers tapping rapidly against the wallpaper, effectively blocking your path.

"Glad to hear it. You're welcome to come for a ride whenever you're on the island next."

You smiled back and tried to create a little more distance, but the hallway was narrow enough as it was.

"That's so nice, thank you. I'll be sure to pass that along to Joel."

"Nah, we don't have to tell the old guy, huh? I was thinking it could just be the two of us," Brooks said, "that way's more fun, don't you think?"

You felt a shiver go down your spine at the hungry way he was looking at you and suddenly you realized, aside from the crew somewhere in the depths of the boat, you were the only ones indoors.

"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea," you said, hoping to keep the tremor from your voice. "Joel would be worried."

It didn't seem to matter how many times you reminded him you were with Joel, Brooks still persisted.

"Aw, I'm sure we could work something out," he replied, brushing his knuckles slowly over your bare arm. Your eyes dropped at the contact and the panic began to set in. You knew you should push him away. Hell, you should punch him in the throat and tell him to keep his hands off you, but all you could think of was Joel and how hard he was working to get that plot of land and what a great mood he had been in all day.

So instead, you took a step backwards and pulled your arms tighter across your chest.

"Why don't we talk about it with Joel at dinner?"

You were giving him your fakest smile at that point and he could tell. Slowly, his expression dropped along with the arm that was caging you in.

"Sure," he said, then finally began to slip past you to join the rest of the guests but paused and leaned in to whisper in your ear, "but I see right through you. Everybody's got a price."

By the time you had collected yourself and turned around, Brooks was gone.

"You're missin' an earring," Joel said with a frown the moment you emerged from the cabin, freshly showered but still shaken.

"What?" You lifted your hands to your ears and groaned before removing the one you did have and dropping it in your clutch. "Shit. Sorry. Must've forgot."

His eyes drifted over your face for a moment, concern etching his features. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart. Everythin' okay?"

"Yeah," you said immediately, ignoring the heated look Brooks was giving you behind Joel's back. "Everything's great. How was poker?"

You partially listened to him talk about his card game, joking about how he was lucky they weren't playing for any actual cash because he was fucking terrible at it, but you had a hard time moving past that interaction with Brooks just an hour prior.

He could tell your attention was elsewhere. You looked nervous and distracted but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. He replayed everything over and over since you slipped inside to freshen up. Sure, he knew he left you high and dry after that particularly intense moment on the trampoline, one he knew if he didn't stop, you would both have done something you would regret, but you seemed fine afterwards. The rest of the afternoon you were bubbly and sweet, your playfulness leaving a permanent smile across his face.

So what the hell happened between then and now?

Mary clapped her hands together, sending a wave of silence over the bustling table as everyone turned to give her their attention. Joel's hand found your leg, his instincts telling him you needed an anchor, even if he didn't know why, then twisted around to listen.

"Good evening," Mary began. "Once again, I'm so pleased you could all be here on this beautiful getaway with Glenn, myself, and our boys," she said, giving Trevor and Brooks a loving glance. "I had the pleasure of curating tonight's menu, the theme being Tropical Barbecue."

A ripple went through the table and a pleased smile pulled at Mary's lips. Your eyes flickered down to Joel's hand on your thigh and you slid your own on top, fingers curling around his. After a moment where you felt him still, his thumb came up to brush gently against your knuckles, making you smile at the comfort it brought.

Mary began to describe each course and her inspiration behind her choices, but you were finding it difficult to focus. Everybody's got a price. What did that mean? Did Brooks somehow find out you were hired by Joel to fabricate a relationship and sway his father into selling him the land?

No, that would be impossible... right?

Then Joel uttered your name softly and you snapped out of your trance.

"Huh?"

He fixed you with another concerned look.

"I asked what you wanted to drink."

"Oh," you said, shaking your head a bit, "I'll just stick with water, thanks."

He scanned your movements. Your eyes were darting around nervously, your foot was tapping incessantly on the floor and he hadn't seen you smile once since you washed up.

Joel leaned into your side, hand still firmly planted on your leg, and murmured, "You can drink, y'know. I ain't mad 'bout yesterday."

"Mhm, I know," you replied, tugging your lower lip between your teeth. Joel shifted his weight in his chair and gave a polite smile to the crew member who placed two plates in front of you. He watched you pick up a fork and pick at your first course and he swore he saw your hand tremble.

"Did I do somethin'?" he asked after leaning in again. "If it's 'bout earlier, we can talk -"

"What are you two lovebirds whispering about down there?" Brooks' booming voice called from his end of the table. You each turned to look at him, Joel with politeness, you with dread. When Brooks met your eye, you could see the veiled threat behind his otherwise friendly demeanor: don't you say a fucking word.

"Just talkin' 'bout what a great time we've had 'n how disappointed we are it's comin' to an end," Joel replied kindly. His hand left your leg to pick up his glass of scotch and you instinctively found yourself raising your arm, trying to bring him back to you, surprising yourself with your neediness.

Joel raised his glass for a toast to Glenn and Mary while you forced a shaky smile and raised your water. Zoe leaned into your other side when the volume rose around the table and whispered, "Are you pregnant?"

You sputtered around your glass and you looked at her all wild-eyed.

"No!"

She giggled and shrugged. "You've been drinking water all day and you look like you're about to hurl."

You laughed at the absurdity of it and you finally felt some of your nerves begin to ease. If only she knew how long it had been since the last time you had sex.

"No, I promise you I'm not."

"Not what?" Joel asked when he turned away from talking with Harry on his other side.

"Nothing," you replied sweetly. The tone of your voice made him smile and his hand found your leg again. Then, his brows knit together and he raised his other hand to swipe his thumb gently over the corner of your mouth. When he pulled it back to examine the spot of barbecue sauce he collected, your breath stuttered at the same time his paused. It seemed as though you both realized at the exact same time he was holding up the same thumb you had wrapped your lips around just hours before.

His eyes met yours and his lips parted. Slowly, he raised his thumb to his mouth and you watched with heavy lidded eyes as his soft looking lips spread open across his finger, taking an unnecessary moment to grunt in pleasure when the sweet and tangy sauce was lapped up by his tongue.

"Mmm, you taste good," he teased with a little smirk. His chest flooded with warmth when he saw that playful spark in your eye again. He didn't like it when you weren't yourself, he realized, but he really, really didn't like to see you cry. It only happened once, but he knew he didn't want to see it again. As much as he tried to fight it, he had grown too fond of your sweet nature already. He liked the way you stood in awe of the affluence surrounding you but also found a great deal of joy from a few pink seashells, so delicate and so beautiful.

Just like you.

He noticed the more attention he gave you, the happier you became, and he really shouldn't have liked that as much as he did. Seeing your wide smile and hearing your adorable laugh made him soften. But watching your eyes glaze over or your eyelids flutter from his touch, whether it be your arm or leg or back, did something else to him entirely. Something that made him have to remind himself more than once during dinner that this was all an act, that this wasn't real.

Once dinner finished up, you appeared back to your usual self once again. Your hand fused with his while everyone said their good nights, and they remained that way when you walked together towards your room, the air around you silent and thick.

You swallowed nervously as you picked up your pajamas from where you abandoned them earlier that morning.

Instantly, your cheeks warmed when you remembered how you both woke up, all tangled limbs and hesitant glances. You cleared your throat and kept your eyes cast down while you maneuvered around him to get to the bathroom. As you changed and washed up, you wondered what would happen that evening. Probably nothing, you decided, based on the way he abruptly stopped things that afternoon, but just in case you made sure to apply a little lip balm and spritzed a dash of perfume in your hair.

"All yours," you said shyly before sliding into bed. All yours, all yours, all yours. You listened to the water running in the bathroom while you flipped through the channels on the television before giving up and turning it off.

When he exited the bathroom, you locked eyes and gave him a small smile. He tossed his clothes into a pile next to his overnight bag before turning off the lights and slipping into bed next to you with a groan.

You both laid there for a few minutes, each of you staring up at the dark ceiling, your hearts beating too fast to really find any rest. Finally, you tilted your head to the side and peered at him through the darkness. You could just make out his side profile in the moonlight, his distinctive sharp nose and the little pout to his lips.

"I can't sleep," you whispered. He blinked and turned his face towards you.

"Why?"

Everybody's got a price.

Did I make you all wet, baby?

"I don't know," you lied.

He turned onto his side so he was facing you, then you did the same. You left your hand flat on the mattress between you, not touching, but wishing you were.

"Did you wanna talk 'bout... earlier?" he asked softly. You couldn't really make out his face but you heard it in his voice; he was uncertain.

For a moment, you almost said yes. Yes, please explain what the hell is going on between us. Until you realized you may not like the answer, then you whispered, "No."

You couldn't see it, but he was relieved.

"Okay," he replied. You inched your hand a little closer.

"Can I ask you something, Joel?"

He nodded, then remembered it was too dark to see. "Yeah."

You took a deep breath. "What did Tammy really mean this morning when she mentioned your family?"

He inhaled sharply and you immediately knew you weren't getting an answer. "Don't matter," he replied, then stretched out his arm to loop around your shoulders. "C'mere," he added, giving you a tug and pulling you into his chest.

You burrowed your face against him, arms wrapping around his middle, all thoughts of Tammy and Brooks erased from your mind. Instead, you focused on how warm he felt, how good he smelled, how strong his heart sounded against your ear, and before you knew it, you were fast asleep.

"Hey."

You heard his voice whispering in your ear, but you frowned and ignored it. It was barely light out, too early to wake up, and you were so warm and at peace curled up next to him, you didn't want it to end.

"Hey," he whispered again, this time a little louder. Still, you didn't respond. Then you heard him curse under his breath and shift his weight on the bed.

Finally, your curiosity was enough to make you open your eyes.

He rolled onto his back, his arm still trapped underneath you but the other was stretching down to grip his rock hard erection through the comforter. Your eyes widened when you saw the pained look in his face after he flexed his hand, as if he were trying to seek out some relief without actually jerking himself off. His eyes were screwed shut and his brows furrowed together while he focused on taking long, deep breaths. Then he squeezed himself again and a quiet noise slipped past his lips. The tendons in his neck strained with effort, his skin looked flushed and a little sweaty and the entire visual was enough for you to feel your pussy soften and throb.

He must have wanted you to move so he could get up and take care of himself in the bathroom, but fortunately your deep sleep paid off into what you saw as a golden opportunity.

Before you could overthink it, you slid your hand down his stomach towards his waistband, but right as your fingertips came in contact with the elastic, he stopped you.

"What're you doin'?" he asked gruffly, his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist.

"Giving you a hand," you replied, hoping you sounded sultry like you intended.

"'S not funny," he said, yanking your hand out from under the covers before he looked at you. His eyes were stern but his forehead dotting with sweat and his chest heaving underneath his white tshirt gave him away.

He wanted this.

"I'm not laughing," you said, trying to tug your hand from his grip, but he shook his head. You squirmed next to him under the covers, pressing your thighs together, feeling your arousal soak through your panties. "Please," you whispered, voice breaking on just the one syllable. He shook his head again but you felt his fingers begin to loosen around your wrist.

"Can't," was all he managed to grit out. You groaned and lunged forward, biting angrily at his jaw, then his lower lip.

"Why?" you practically begged, your mouth brushing over his beard, the sharp hairs poking your sensitive lips, leaving them feeling tingly when you pulled away and asked again, "Why, Joel?"

"Ain't part of the deal."

You scoffed and hooked both your legs around one of his, pulling it towards you, towards the heat radiating between your legs. You began to roll your hips, doing your best to torment him into breaking by rubbing yourself on his thigh.

"I don't care about the deal," you replied, narrowing your eyes as you continued to rock your hips against him. "I want you, Joel, fucking please," you whined, then gasped when he dropped your hand and in one swift movement, hauled you up so you were straddling his lap.

"You think you want me, but you don't. Not really," he told you, jaw tense and eyes so dark, you could barely see the sliver of dark chocolate brown you had grown so fond of.

"What does that mean?" you asked. His statement made your hips stall in a moment of clarity.

His eyes dropped to your chest, swallowing when he noticed your nipples poking through your loose fitting tank top.

"You don't know me, darlin'."

"Yes, I do," you cooed, bending forward seductively to play with his hair, but in reality you were just trying to give him a glimpse of your tits.

"No, you don't," he shot back, his eyes glued to your chest, his hands leaving bruises on your hips when he began to shift you back and forth, encouraging you to rub yourself over his clothed erection. "And I ain't gonna fuck you, baby, I'm sorry."

You fought back the sob that clawed its way up your throat. "You want me, too," you tried, tipping your head back and biting your lip when you felt his cock slide perfectly through your folds. He was thick, that much you could tell, and you moaned at the thought of him stretching you open. How delicious that sting would feel at first, the pain that would bleed into pleasure, your mingled breaths and the feel of your skin sticking together that first time.

"This is... fuck," he groaned, bucking his hips up to meet yours. "This is a business relationship, that's it." But his voice held no conviction whatsoever.

"Yeah?" you panted, tilting your chin down to look at him. He was fucking wrecked underneath you. His eyes were all wild, teeth clenching together so hard the muscle in his jaw twitched. You smirked and lunged forward to kiss him, your tongue sliding into his mouth with ease. He whined against your lips, his hands sliding up your back, pressing against your spine as he gave in, his jaw falling open wider, giving you more room to swirl your tongues together frantically while your hips ground down onto his lap, selfishly chasing your high.

"If you do this with all your business partners, I can see how you became so successful," you breathed when you pulled away.

His eyes fluttered closed and you watched his muscles relax, as if he were giving up the fight. You leaned forward and tenderly kissed the corner of his mouth, your thighs burning from the effort as you continued to rut yourself against him. You felt the tip of his cock catch on your clit and you squeaked as a shiver ran through you and your vision began to blur.

"Joel," you whimpered, pressing your nose against his throat.

"Just... just take what you need, sweetheart," he told you, wrapping his arms around your ribs. "I'm hangin' on by a thread here, just - take what you need."

You whined and pushed your face into his neck, too close to your orgasm to fight with him any longer.

"Come with me," you whispered. You could feel his body tremble underneath you at the request, but he replied, "No."

Tears stung your eyes and you weren't sure if it was the confusion surrounding his steadfast rejection or the intensity of your orgasm, but either way you gasped and two tears slid down your cheeks when you fell apart on top of him.

With a shocking amount of speed, Joel flipped you over so you were on your back. He hovered above you, watching your release wash over you, his hips still pressing against your center, still grinding and thrusting and rubbing as he memorized the look on your face when you came. And maybe it was just all too much: too much build up, too much tension, too much begging for his cock from your perfect fucking mouth because he suddenly tensed and groaned.

Your eyes snapped open in surprise when you felt the warmth spreading through his boxers and dampness leaking through the fabric, just barely touching your skin.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned as he continued to come, "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He dropped his chin to his chest, mouth forming a circle and his eyes squeezing shut while his body pulsed and shook with an incredible amount of force.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, his eyes finally meeting yours.

You stared at one another, each of you panting for air with your hearts hammering wildly in your chests and heat flushing your faces. Slowly, when you began to come down, reality seeped in. As much as he tried to fight it, and as frustrated as you were with him, there was no denying it now:

A line was crossed, and there was no going back.

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