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jobean12-blog · 3 months

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The Fine Print

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 4,126

Summary: You've been working under Bucky for almost a year and he's always been a grumpy ass and even though when the lines get blurred you can't seem to stay away.

Author's Note: These new pics and all the new gym shots and vids and yum! Just being fed so well! I like the idea of a grumpy CEO who just wants you and he's mad about it. No excuse for being a dick but he's not really all bad. And anyway, I'd never tell him no...haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you Daisy for the lovely divider @firefly-graphics😘

Warnings: Grumpy ass Bucky (he's a total ass sometimes but has moments of softness), sassy reader, lots of tension, flirting, curses, fingering, light dirty talk

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You’re late. Only twenty minutes but it’s long enough that your grumpy ass of a boss will have your head for it.

Grumpy…and an ass but entirely too gorgeous.

You pick up the pace, precariously balancing your files and bags and hoping you don’t faceplant on the newly shined floors.

Getting a flat tire on the highway this morning wasn’t on your long to-do list for today, but it still happened and now you’ll have to deal with a very cranky Mr. Barnes.

You round the corner and enter your office, ready to give your usual sunshine filled greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes!”

He’s standing at your desk, arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes hard.

“Is it a good morning?” he asks, not bothering to move out of the way as you try to slip around him. “What time is it?”

You stop and meet his glare.

“I had some car trouble this morning. I got a flat on my way in.”

Your voice comes out steady and strong and relief floods through you. This was the first time you were late, and you were not going to be reprimanded.

“Trouble is quite the fitting word for what I’ve been dealing with in your absence.”

You glance up at him and his antagonizing stare, and blink away your surprise at his words.

“I would have thought you would at least ask me if I was ok Mr. Barnes,” you say sweetly and with a smile. “After all, how could I possibly manage to fix a flat tire all on my own.”

His jaw clenches tightly.

“Obviously you managed,” he counters. “And you look just fine.”

Beautiful blue eyes wander languidly down your body before making their slow perusal back up to study your face.

You try to school your features and when he raises an expectant brow you bite back with, “Thankfully I am fine, and I got help but I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with the burden of picking up a telephone and sending an e-mail all on your own this morning. It won’t happen again.”

He takes a step closer to you and you stop yourself from swaying forward to get a hint of his scent.

Traitorous body. If only the fucker wasn’t so fucking hot.

“You’re right. It won’t,” he replies with a smug smile. “And just so you don’t forget, I’d like to see…”

He spends the next minute rattling off several project pieces he’d like to see completed and on his desk by the end of the day.

“And then you can make up the half an hour you missed by getting together a mock presentation for our meeting tomorrow.”

When your nostrils flare, he smiles triumphantly and dips his head, so his warm breath caresses the shell of your ear.

“I’ll see you in the conference room at six.”

He turns away and slams his office door behind him and you let out an exasperated puff of air.

“It was only twenty minutes asshole.”

You mutter the words under your breath as you plop into your office chair and continue to curse his name in grumbles.

There’s a light knock on the door before it opens and you know you’re about to hear the voice of your friend and coworker, Jess.

“I know you’re working through lunch,” she says. “So at least let me get you something.”

You don’t look up but smile nonetheless, your fingers flying over the keyboard with ease.

“Honestly, I don’t even think I have time to eat,” you say before hitting the period button hard and meeting her eyes.

Jess gives you a sympathetic look. “I’ll grab you something nutritious.”

She waves before gently shutting the door. You lean over to check your desk drawer for snacks, the mention of lunch reminding you that you are in fact, hungry. At the same time that you see you have nothing to eat you notice a tear in your stockings.

“Son of a bitch,” you grumble. “I just bought these.”

Less than a minute later your door opens again and without looking up from your screen you whine, “do you know what, after the morning I’ve had I think I’ll take something sweet…maybe a cookie. Or twelve. Or chocolate of any kind.”

When you receive no acknowledgement, in return you glance up and see that Jess is not standing at your door.

You quickly tug the hem of your skirt down, noting how Bucky’s eyes track the movement and linger on your legs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t realize…”

“Since your morning has been so awful,” he starts, his sly smile growing, “why don’t you run down to the café and pick us both up some lunch.”

Your lips purse and once again his eyes seem glued to every action you take.

“Mr. Barnes, Jess has just come in and said she would grab me something to eat so I can continue working through lunch.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“I have A LOT to get done.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” he says before rattling off his lunch order.

He turns on his heel and takes two long strides back to his office, pulling the door closed hard behind him.

“What the f…?”

You don’t even finish the sentence when he opens the door again and pokes his head out.

“Make sure you get yourself something to eat. We’re going to be here late.”

The door slams shut again, and you abruptly stand, your rolling chair flying back into the wall as you storm off.

“Why does he care if I eat or not?” you ask yourself as you angrily stuff things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder.

The rest of the day goes by far too quickly and you find yourself cursing out the copy machine as you wait for the rest of your papers to go through. Checking your phone you see you’re already almost ten minutes late to your afterhours ‘meeting.’

You rush down the dim hall of the now empty building, your presentation materials clutched tightly to your chest and glance again at your phone.

Fifteen minutes. Shit.

As you near the conference room, you try to calm your breathing and slow to a walk. A soft light shines from under the door, and you know he’s in there waiting for you.

Taking a deep breath you knock.

“Come in.”

You walk into the large room, never failing to take in the view of the city that the floor to ceiling windows along one wall highlight.

At the head of the large dark wood conference table, sits Bucky. His suit jacket is hanging haphazardly over the back of his chair, his tie is loose around his neck, and the crisp white sleeves of his button down are rolled up to his elbows.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. The copy machine…”

Realizing you’ve been apologizing all day, and it has made no difference, you stop yourself and lift your chin, walking over to where he sits and placing down your papers, sorting through them as quickly as possible so you can begin.

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks.

His question takes you completely by surprise and you meet his piercing blue eyes with a confused expression.

“I uh…I had lunch.”

“That doesn’t answer my question sweetheart.”

At his sugared endearment, your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat, but you regain your composure.

“No. I haven’t.”

He just nods and gestures to the papers, clearly waiting for you to get started.

You lean over the table, searching for the paper you need and in your disheveled state don’t realize your entire lower body is practically draped over him.

“I just need to find…”

The words catch in your throat when you feel his fingers softly touch your thigh, slowly inching higher to reveal the tear in your stocking. His fingertips trace the sheared fabric and press against your skin, igniting it with heat.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart pounds in your chest and your brain screams at you to push him away but you don’t dare move.

“Look at me,” he demands, pressing his fingertips harder into your skin.

You straighten and turn to face him, his hand sliding up and over the curve of your hip to settle on your waist.

“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on his.

“James. Call me James.”

The intensity of his stare makes your breath catch and when he doesn’t answer and instead continues letting his hand trace your curves you battle with your emotions.

“The next time you have car trouble,” and his hand slips under your skirt again, “you call me.”

“What? Why would I?”

His fingertips graze the lace top of your stocking before he lifts your skirt higher and drops his eyes between your legs.

“Because I said so,” he murmurs, teasing along your inner thigh.

Your hand falls to the table to steady yourself and you willingly spread your legs open when he gives them a slight push.

“That’s hardly a good reason,” you breathe out.

“Fuck,” he growls, and his eyes fall closed.

You glance down at his lap and see him straining against the expensive fabric of his pants.

He smooths two fingers along the line of your panties, lightly pressing against your swollen and sensitive clit. His eyes open and he looks furious, fisting the thin material in his hand and in one quick movement, tearing it off.

He pulls you down roughly onto his lap, your skirt riding up over your hips to accommodate the wide spread of your legs as you straddle him.

An involuntary moan slips past your parted lips when he grabs your ass and drags you down over his hard cock.

When he opens his mouth to speak you grab his tie between your fingers and use it to pull his mouth to yours. Every sweep of his lips is heaven, and you release his tie to rake your fingers through his hair.

He makes a low, angry noise deep in his throat and you trail your lips along his jaw, kissing your way down the strong column of his neck.

His hand slides from your ass and slips between your legs, his fingers brushing through the wetness just before there’s a knock on the door.

You both go completely still and wait. When a second knock sounds, he quietly curses and gently lifts you off his lap.

You quickly pull your skirt down and smooth your hands over your hips. He watches your every move as he runs a hand through his mussed hair and sits up in the chair, hiding his legs and erection under the table.

“What?” he growls, loud enough for whomever is on the other side to hear.

“Mr. Barnes, we’re scheduled to do maintenance in here tonight.”

He curses again and continues to stare at you.

“I’m just finishing a meeting. Give me five minutes.”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” the maintenance manager, says, “take your time.”

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he splays his hands out over the tabletop. Hastily he stands and tries to straighten his tie, his eyes landing on your ripped panties that lie on the floor.

He grabs them and rubs the silky fabric between his fingers.

“Make sure you eat something,” he says and then shrugs on his suit jacket, tucking your panties into the breast pocket.

You’re clutching the table and staring as he grabs his briefcase and starts toward the door.

“It’s late. I’m going to have security walk you to your car,” he states, finally meeting your eyes.

His groan is pained as his gaze travels down your body and then he disappears out the door.

You fall back into a chair and try to calm your breathing. You’d have to be out of here in a minute and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Seeing movement outside the door you begin gathering your things and stand on still shaky legs.

With a deep inhale you straighten your shoulders and walk out the door with a serene smile, greeting the head of security and thanking him for escorting you out.

What the fuck just happened?

The next morning you’re making your way into the office when he walks in. You do nothing more than greet him with a curt nod, giving him a wide berth of space as you make your way to your desk.

You can feel his eyes on you, the lick of heat traveling down your spine. You’re wearing your favorite dress and while it’s appropriate for the workspace it accentuates all the right spots, and you smile to yourself as you bend down to retrieve something from your desk drawer.

Regardless of what transpired last night you are not going to let it affect your work. You felt powerful and confident in this dress and Mr. Barnes can fuck off.

You peek over your shoulder to find him standing halfway in the doorway of his office and staring. You raise your brows and blink.

He clears his throat and mumbles a short “good morning,” then steps into his office and slams the door.

You roll your eyes and promise yourself he’ll be the last thing on your mind as you set out to get as much work done today as possible.

As lunch approaches you grab your bag and reach for your wallet. Your fingers close around a crumpled piece of paper, and you start to smile when you’re reminded of what it is.

You knock on his office door and saunter inside when he says, “come in.” The receipt hits his desk with a smack and without an explanation you turn and walk back out.

You almost make it to the first step in the stairwell when you hear footsteps approach behind you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re running off to?” he calls.

You continue walking and make it down one flight of steps before saying, “to get lunch.”

He meets you on the landing and clutches your elbow, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall.

Your eyes narrow contemptuously.

He whips the receipt out and in front of your face. “Want to explain this sweetheart?”

You let out a wry chuckle. “You know for such a smart guy you really are an ass sometimes. It’s a receipt.”

“I can see that,” he says through clenched teeth. “What I want to know is why you’re making purchases for…lingerie…on my company credit card.”

“Some jerk ripped up my favorite pair of panties last night.”

You shrug your shoulders and try to skirt past him.

His hand meets the wall next to your head, his fingers curling and crumpling the receipt and you can feel how tightly the muscles in his body are flexed when he presses closer.

He looks tormented for the split second before his lips crash down on yours and your treacherous body melts into the kiss.

His cock throbs against your stomach as he tries to hike your dress up over your thighs. Reluctantly he steps back, making enough space so he can slowly slide your dress higher, above your panties and look his fill.

“I like this pair even more than last nights,” he simpers.

His fingers hook into the lace at your hip, and you grab his shirt. “Don’t you dare Barnes.”

“You can buy as many new pairs as you want.”

He once again easily tears them from your hips.

Your lips part in shock but he swallows your sassy remark with his mouth. The roughness of his kiss is a sharp contrast to the way his fingers softly tease between your legs.

You need more but you’ll be damned if you’re going to beg him for it. As if he can read your inner thoughts, his eyes light up in triumph when he pulls away to meet your gaze.

“As much as I want to hear you beg me for it sweetheart, I already know how badly you want it. You’re soaked for me.”

“You’re such an ass…”

He slides a finger inside you and your combined groans echo in the empty stairwell, the insult dying on your lips.

His stare is intense as he dips his head to your ear, warm lips brushing ever so gently when he whispers, “say please and I’ll give you what you want.”

Instead, you nip at his jaw, stifling the moan of need that threatens to rise in your throat. He continues pumping one finger in and out, sweat beginning to bead on his brow and his teeth gritted.

You hiss out a curse that’s followed by a breathy “please.”

You’re expecting him to be smug but instead he slows his movements and languidly pushes a second finger inside you, clearly relishing the way your eyelids flutter closed and you clench around him.

“That’s it sweetheart. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers.”

His words practically send you over the edge but it’s the press of his thumb to your clit that makes your legs start to shake and his name fall from your lips like a prayer.

When his head falls to your neck and he places soft kisses along your skin, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “come for me gorgeous,” you let go and dig your fingernails into his strong shoulders, finishing with a muffled cry.

He draws out your pleasure with the slow push and pull of his fingers before sliding them out and holding them between you, his skin glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.

His fingers press to his lips, parting them as he licks them clean, clearly savoring every drop of your taste.

“I knew you’d be sweet,” he croons.

“James,” you whimper when your hands fall to his pants.

He grabs your wrist to stop you and pushes your hand away. With soft movements he fixes your dress, smoothing his hands along your curves.

“But…” you start, and he silences you with a kiss.

You’re breathless and your head is fuzzy by the time he pulls away and with a wink he steps back and says, “lunch is over. We have a meeting to attend.”

He turns on his heel and jogs back up the steps with ease. Your narrowed eyes follow him before you let out a frustrated huff and walk on wobbly legs in the same direction.

You had forgotten all about the meeting…the one you were supposed to go over the plans for the night before.

When you walk into the large conference room everyone is already seated and Bucky is of course at the head of the table. His eyes are trained on you as you walk to the front and place your things down near him.

The presentation you’re giving shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, but there’s a lot riding on it and after what just happened, you’re obviously feeling flustered.

You open your document and greet and address the room, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on where it belongs and not on him.

But when you pause your eyes lock with his and your ability to speak is momentarily stolen. His gaze is intense, the heat simmering there almost palpable.

With a clear of your throat you continue, fumbling slightly but thankfully recovering quick enough that no one seems to notice. No one but him.

His perfect lips raise in a lopsided grin, and he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. It’s clear where his thoughts are, and you must tear your eyes away to unscramble your head. He’s obviously trying to fluster you and quickly your nerves are replaced with anger, and you use it to fuel the rest of your presentation, finishing it with ease.

You sit with a smile and lift your chin, challenging him with your eyes. He stares right back.

“Thank you,” he says, addressing you by your first name as he stands and commands the room. “That was an excellent presentation. Clearly, you were well prepared.”

You can’t tell if his words are mocking or meaningful and it sets you on edge. He moves around the room and answers any lingering questions before ending the meeting with a dismissive hand.

As people stand and gather their things, Bucky comes up behind you, pressing his chest close to your back as he leans in to pretend to grab something from the table.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it thought that” he chuckles.

To everyone else it appears he’s making a funny remark, but you can feel your skin heat at his proximity and taunting words.

“Ugh,” you say through gritted teeth. “You would have loved that wouldn’t you?”

You can feel your eyes fill with unshed tears, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you and when his gaze finds yours his expression morphs from haughty to soft in an instant.

It only sends you reeling again, the confusion flooding through you and before he can say more you gather your things and rush out the door. Unexpectedly, he’s hot on your heels all the way to the elevator.

There are several other people on it so when you stop at the next floor and more employees file in, you’re squeezed toward the back, pushed farther into him, your ass against his crotch.

He’s hard and you feel the rest of him stiffen with the sharp intake of his breath. You take a step away from him, as much as you can in the confined space, but he reaches forward and grips your hip to pull you back.

“Don’t move,” he whispers into your neck.

“I’m two seconds away from shoving my heel up your ass,” you seethe.

He leans even closer, keeping a firm grasp on your hip.

“You were deliberately trying to make me fuck that up!”

You turn your head to peer at him and his mouth falls open, brows furrowed.

“What?” he says.

“You heard me.”

When you reach the floor just before the top, everyone else exits the elevator and the doors close, leaving you both pressed together in the corner.

It starts to move again, and you jerk backward, falling against him as he leans into the wall.

His sudden growl startles you and then he slams his hand into the stop button on the control panel.

His body cages you against the wall and his breathing is harsh.

“I would never want you to fuck anything up,” he exhales. “It’s impossible for me to think about anything but you…how good you taste, and I haven’t even gotten my mouth on you.”

You hide your surprise at his confession.

“Yet.” He adds in a promised whisper.

“This is my career at stake Mr. Barnes. You’re the one with all the power here. What do you have to lose?”

“Me? All the power?” He laughs dryly. “You’re the one who does this to me…the only one.”

You feel him throb against your stomach and you can see the truth in his eyes.

“Then don’t be such a dick all the time.”

You mean the words to come out harsh but instead they’re a quiet whisper and your expression softens.

It’s all he needs before his lips crash to yours and he slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing his way to the hem of your dress.

“I had to sit there and watch you present, the whole fucking time knowing you had nothing on under here.”

His touch is delicate as he spreads your legs and slides a finger through your folds, already wet and aching.

“I was sitting there hard as a rock just thinking about bending you over that table, tasting you, fucking you.”

Your fingers close around his biceps, the soft fabric of his suit jacket bulging under the strained muscles.

“Is that what you want?” he asks as his fingers continue to tease you.

“Yes,” you answer as you grab hold of his tie and bring his lips closer.

He kisses you, never touching you where you need it most and when he pulls away, he presses the elevator button, causing it to start moving again.

He removes his fingers and reaches up to straighten his tie and when the doors open, he backs out, his voice low and deep when he says, “I need to see you in my office. Immediately.”

He turns and glides from the elevator, his long strides carrying him quickly toward his office and you can’t do anything but follow.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @goldylions @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #ceo!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #ceo au

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ivysangel · 4 months

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(follow up to this post) prefacing this by saying that dick grayson is a nude connoisseur, and while he doesn't have to put work in to look good, he chooses to do so because i do believe he likes to go back and admire his own work. ok, so boom:

starting off strong. dick pics masked as selfies, taken from a high angle with him spread out on the bed, one arm under his head, and he's CHEESIN' because he's got a nice smile and an even nicer cock. [side note: i really do think dick has a very pretty cock. circumcised, pink mushroom tip that, a vein or two that makes him twitch when you touch them, and it gets thicker at the base; not too thick, but thicker. leans further on the long side of the long v girthy scale]

jerk off vids where he's stroking his dick like crazy, on the verge of cumming while he's fully moaning your name into the mic. abs tightening while he cums all over them, chest heaving, and head thrown back.

also a fan of towel shots, but it's not wrapped around his waist. instead, he's actually just holding it in front of his crotch so you can see his entire body except his dick. muscular acrobat thighs fully on display. save me, dick grayson...dick grayson, save me

apart of the boner in sweats club, but i think he could go either the obvious or the understated route depending on his mood. as in, he's either sending you a pic of him grabbing it through his sweats or a mirror selfie where you have to search for it, but once you see it you literally can't unsee it

pics of his dick sent next to objects so he can show you how big it is, but that's very fratboy!dick coded, so it's not a common occurrence. UNLESS it's fratboy!dick because then he has more than a few on hand for when he adds another person to his roster

vids of him jerking off, but specifically in the shower. starts the video off on his face, showing off his wet hair, and the video seems like it's going nowhere until he pans to his dick in his hands. captioned something like "water isn't good lube. you should come over."

not a nude, but does send pics in the nightwing suit, and it's just as, if not more, slutty than any naked pic he could ever send

bonus: not that he'd ever send these, you'd have to find them on your own, but he HAS taken pics of his own ass before just to see what all the hype is about

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x gn!reader #dick grayson smut #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson headcanons #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing x gn!reader #nightwing smut #nightwing imagine #nightwing headcanons

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synthetickitsune · 3 months

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Joshua (SVT) | Head pats comfort | 0.9k | gn!reader A/N: inspired by shua being 2 apples tall in the new vid and @hanniedream trying to end my existence every single day

“Is everything alright?” you ask Joshua and take his hand when he sighs and leans down to kiss the top of your head as a greeting.

“Had a bad day,” he murmurs, “I’ll just take a quick shower and be right back.”

Usually you’d have enough time to prepare snacks and drinks for a comfy evening on the couch turned into a safe haven. However, he is true to his words and you barely manage to pull out the pillows and blankets before he comes back. He all but pulls you down on the couch and lies down on your chest. He doesn’t give you space to argue. And since he’s already lying on top of you, you know better than to expect to move any time soon.

“That bad?” you hug him closer. He just hums and rubs his cheek on your chest.

“The new choreo is really hard,” he explains after a while, “I can’t keep up.”

“I gave it my best but it’s too fast. I’m not the only one struggling but it feels like I’m the worst,” he rants on, “Maybe I’m just not fit to be an idol.”

“You know that’s not true, Shua,” you sigh, “It keeps getting harder, so it’ll take a while to adjust.”

He makes an unconvincing sound of acknowledgement.

“You’re amazing and you’re doing well despite the hurdles,” you say, rubbing his back. He melts into your embrace, so it’s a little surprising when he starts arguing.

“You’re just saying that,” he whispers like he didn’t mean for you to hear. But you did.

“Are you calling me a liar?” You accuse.

“No no,” he startles and gets up enough to face you. His eyes are wide and there’s a worried wrinkle between his brows. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad,” you reassure, “I just wouldn’t say something I don’t mean.”

“I know,” he lies back down and hides his face into your neck.

“You can vent if you want, though,” you encourage.

At first he seems hesitant, placing a soft kiss on your neck without speaking up. That’s fine with you as well. After all, you don’t want to push him. His comfort is always your first priority. You hold him tightly, stroking up and down his spine with your other hand. At times it almost seems like he fell asleep, but even that would be alright.

“I just feel like I hit a wall,” he starts off quietly, “I don’t feel like I’m making much progress in anything. Definitely not as fast or as much as I used to when I was younger.”

“You’re right that the performances are getting harder, but I should be able to adapt, shouldn’t I? Soonyoung handles it fine,” he rambles on, sighing a little.

“Soonyoung is a beast though,” you remind him, making him chuckle.

“Yeah, but I’m still lacking behind the others too,” he confesses, no longer laughing. He sounds so discouraged you just want to do something to lift his worries, if only a little. “I’m too slow. I had a hard time with the recording too. I think I’m just, I don’t know. Maybe I’m not made for this, maybe I just got lucky that I could do this for this long and now my lack of talent is showing. Do you think I’m getting too ol-“

Joshua’s voice dies in his throat and he lifts his head to meet your eyes.

“Why did you pat my head?” He asks confused (but at least distracted).

“Took you a while to notice,” you huff, averting your eyes, “You always do it too.”

You don’t stop though and pat his head once again, then running your fingers through his hair. Just like he does when you are upset.

“That explains less than you think,” he smiles a little.

“It’s comforting when you do it. Makes my worries seem smaller,” you mumble, only looking at him when he turns your head with his fingers under your chin. You make a surprised noise when his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss. “I just couldn’t listen to you talk like that when I know it’s not true.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” He parrots your words from earlier.

“Yeah, Joshua, I am,” you roll your eyes, kissing him again, “So be a good boy and stop lying.”

He laughs, nodding before diving in for one more kiss. He adjusts his position so he can rest his forehead against yours without straining his neck.

“You know I would do anything for you,” he kisses your nose this time, “I just don’t think I can do it today.”

”I’m here for you,” you remind him, “You can tell me everything and if you lie I’ll correct you.”

He laughs, shaking his head. He connects your lips again before settling down on your chest again.

He makes you do as you promised, nuzzling closer whenever you remind him that he’s feeling down and shouldn’t take those thoughts too seriously as he shares all that’s been weighing him down. If he’s especially hesitant to admit to something, you remind him of his successes. He doesn’t like to hear about them, but still listens because he likes your voice.

And strangely, he likes it when you pat his head and run your fingers through his hair too.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #joshua fluff #svthub #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #joshua x reader #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt reactions #joshua scenarios #drabble #fluff

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whoskimii · 1 month

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I LOVE WHEN WE GET FREAKY ON CAMERA !

his favorite camgirl ft. toji ! (2)

after pressing on the send button, toji went back to watching your live. you were so pretty, he just couldn't get his eyes off of you.

the way you seemed so innocent but the fact that you actually weren't, that you were just a nasty little thing deep down stirred something in him and in his sweatpants.

since he was your favorite viewer, he knew that you'd have no problem sending him a cute little video. maybe you'd even lower the price and make a discount just for him ? that's what toji hoped for, at least.

but even if you wouldn't, he'd pay anyway.

after the surprise of you having a favorite follower toned down, people began commenting on you again, like they normally did.

virginbabyy : omgg girl i wish i had your boobs haha x

idontevenexist : you're so pretty ml <3

4meisaito: lash tut?? you're beautiful btwww

toji rolled his eyes, annoyed by the fact that the comment section literally covered half of his screen. but the worst thing was that he couldn't even hide it.

he just wanted to keep his eyes on you, as usual. seems like he'd have to suck it up this time.

"thank you for watching, guys ! i hope you appreciated the little show." you formed a heart with your pretty manicured hands. "see you soon, i love you ! mwah !" you kissed the camera.

black screen.

after two hours, the live ended. his eyes have been blessed, as usual. you always knew what people wanted and you executed orders well. this, coupled with the fact that you were a pretty little thing, drove him to the brink of madness.

he almost forgot the message he sent you but just as he was about to close the app, he received a notification. when he read your username, a lazy smirk decorated his face.

yourlovelycamgirl : ohh hi toj'!! of course i'm up for a vid if you'd like one :3 tell me what you want <33

he scoffed softly, amused by your eagerness. you were cute.

toj1231 : just wear a baggy shirt and thigh highs. and use that pink toy you had last week. kay?

yourlovelycamgirl : sure!! whatever you want ^^ i usually ask for money in return but since you always give me so much during lives i'll do it for free <33

for free ? damn. with enough luck, he was expecting a small discount. but not this.

toj1231 : you're spoiling me sweet thing

yourlovelycamgirl : you're spoiling me too <33

not wrong.

yourlovelycamgirl : i finally got that victoria secret matching set i really wanted!!

toji raised an eyebrow. victoria secret ? he wasn't exactly familiar with the brand but he also knew that the prices weren't low. so being a camgirl actually paid well.

yourlovelycamgirl : it was fun to talk with you, toj'!! i'm gonna make the video you want now brb <3

with a sigh, he turned his phone off. he tipped his head back, his emerald green eyes fluttering shut. he couldn't wait to watch the video.

just the thought of you being in a baggy shirt and thigh highs— augh. it was enough to make him groan. he spread his legs before placing a foot on the small coffee table in front of the couch he was sitting on.

he shifted, lifting his hips up for a second to fix himself and get comfy. he opened one eye and looked down, noticing a bulge in his sweatpants.

a fantasy was enough to make him hard ? not having sex for quite a while wasn't doing toji good.

he rolled his eyes at himself but his large hand still traveled to the waistband of his sweatpants. he slipped a hand underneath the fabric and slowly swirled his finger around the angry tip, which earned a low hiss from the man.

he wanted to jerk off, he really did. but not before watching the little video you were preparing for him. it'd be pathetic, after all.

"fuck it." he shrugged and closed his eyes before tipping his head back. he stroked his cock a few times, enough to get himself even harder. it was almost painful. he freed his length and began pumping his hand up and down lazily, sticking his bottom lip between his teeth.

he pictured you and imagined that it was your soft cunnie around him or at least, your pretty mouth, instead of his own hand. he inhaled sharply as he finally found the right rhythm, his hips bucking into his palm intentionally. he threw his head back and cursed under his breath. "fuuuck..." he breathed.

toji made his hand tighter and squeezed his cock even more. he watched shamelessly, staring as droplets of precum landed on his sweatpants and stained the grey fabric, creating a small dark spot.

without even paying attention to it, his hips began rolling into his hand. "mhm..." he hummed almost approvingly, feeling himself get close as he continued fucking his hand lazily. "c'mon, baby... c'mon." he murmured as if you were there.

fuck, he was so pathetic. he'll definitely cringe at himself afterwards.

"shit... 'm close." he sighed and chewed on his lip. he ran his free hand over his face. "fuck... 'm coming..." he bit on his hand hard as he came, milky sticky fluid staining his pants and his lower stomach.

after he came down from his high, he let out a heavy breath and glanced at his hand, which showed teeth marks.

damn. you surely had him on a leash.

@yourlovelycamgirl au isn't overrrrr guys :3

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shiningstages · 2 years

Text

Not gonna be here again this weekend, but I just wanna pop in and say that the Love Live Musical girls sound so good;; I wish I could see them live frfr;;

#;big bubble blowing baby! ( ooc )#( i mean i wish i could've seen all the groups live frfr but like...they are a musical...legit can only see them live fgjfhdjghdhgx #that being said #hopefully!!!!!!!! soon i'll be here for real #i should've known that Only being surrounded by my brother would make me really unmotivated #to be fair he's been really good about kind of trying to give me my space #but i can't really write with Any noise on #and i wanted to be at the desk; but he's listening to tv and doing the dishes...so i give up ghfghfjgchf #'go to your room then' no i'm stubborn and want to be at The Desk!!!!!!#every time i tried to write too he'd be nearby.......even for school things he has this ability to just come over and talk to me #and then i get irrationally annoyed so i just watch vids and play rf5 instead of work gfhgfghfjgxhd #speaking of work though!!!! actually trying to figure out my Bonus Stage of college (i'm calling it this now)#and i have!!!!! multiple plans!!!!!!#i still need to look at the college i'm at right now; and double check to see if one program somewhere else is online or not #but any way i stretch it!!!!!! creative / script writing things will happen!!!!!!!#my biggest thing is i don't wanna move........if the place i really wanna do this at is campus-only.....byebye #though i do like my backup plan a lot too which is a relief #i wanna do a lil something for my community college choir though...before i Leave; you know........#i'm gonna go to winter concert but like.............i feel like i should do More )

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greensagephase · 4 months

Text

For Better or Worse

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: Your siblings are marrying in two weeks and as the best man and maid of honor, Miguel and you are dragged to the dance lessons for moral support despite disliking each other. There, you're forced to pretend to be a couple. Word Count: 3k Warnings: slightly suggestive comments from the dance instructor, so MDI; reader speaks and understands Spanish; unnamed sister for reader; reader and Miguel are grumpy with each other, so don't expect any smooching, but there's tension, hehe A/N: this was supposed to be a simple thought based on a movie scene (vid below the cut) that turned into something longer (a blessing and a curse). Thank you for reading! Masterlist

Source: The Wedding Date (2005)

Your little sister, or not so little since she’s all grown up, found love and is now getting married to Gabriel O’Hara. You’re elated about them marrying, truly. Ever since your sister met Gabriel, you could tell they were made for each other. They’re both so sweet and kind, sometimes they remind you of Jane Bennet and Mr. Bingley from Pride and Prejudice, too good for their own good.

They’re truly made for each other and you have to admit, Gabriel squeezed his way into your heart fairly quickly with how great he treats your sister, so it didn’t take long before you started to see him as part of the family.

But of course, a rose comes with its thorns. Or, in your case, your sister’s now fiancé, comes with a brother.

Miguel O’Hara.

You cannot stand the man.

And he cannot stand you.

That’s the one thing you have in common, the mutual dislike.

You finally met him and Gabriel’s parents when the relationship between your siblings became serious. You expected to like Gabriel’s family, and you did, everyone except Miguel. The two of you simply didn’t click. It was dislike at first sight.

Of course, you try to be polite to each other for the sake of your siblings, but when they’re not in sight, keeping an eye on either of you, your dislike is shown through scowls and narrowed eyes.

You try to stay clear from each other as much as possible, something that has become harder to do as your siblings’ relationship has turned more and more serious.

And now, the proximity will be unavoidable. Gabriel popped the question a year ago and that’s how you find yourself parked outside a dance studio, two weeks before the big day.

With you being your sister’s maid of honor and Miguel the groom’s best man, that means you’ve both been in each other’s presence more than usual to support the couple as they’ve gone through the wedding planning.

And that includes the freaking dance lessons.

As soon as everyone arrives, all four of you enter the building. Of course, Miguel and you avoid each other as you both quickly scan the place before your gazes find your siblings’ sheepish smiles towards the two of you. The sight immediately makes Miguel and you tense.

Those sheepish smiles are no good, you both know that too well. Those are the smiles of younger siblings about to ask something from you. Something neither of you are probably going to like.

“So… we asked you to come along today for moral support,” you sister starts, fidgeting with her hands.

“Because we really do need it but there’s another reason…” Gabriel adds, trailing off.

“What is it, Gabriel?” Miguel asks, his tone low with a hint of impatience.

“So… the instructor is a well known one in the community. They’re really good at what they do! It’s why we wanted to get lessons from her, but she had a tight schedule and it was looking like we almost didn’t get a spot. She said she’d only do it if we brought along another couple, unmarried if possible, but one that might potentially marry in the future. You know, as a way to get more business in the future…” Gabriel replies, offering a nervous smile.

“So, Gabri and I figured that…” your sister trails off.

Both Gabriel and your sister stare at you and Miguel, with hope in their eyes as their little plan sinks in.

“No way,” you say immediately, declining anything related to Miguel.

“Aw, please. It’s just a dance lesson. Just for today! Two hours at the most,” your sister tries.

“No.”

“You guys just need to act nice with each other, that’s all. Easy,” Gabriel says, shrugging as if he’s never ran into someone he didn’t like, which might actually be true. “I mean - we’re family now. Not officially, yet,” Gabriel adds giving his future wife a smile that shows pure love. “Very soon, just two more weeks and finally.”

Miguel and you watch, your siblings forgetting for about five seconds about death glares they’re receiving as of right now.

Yes, they’re really too good for their own good. Or, maybe they’re just using their younger sibling privilege and the fact that they’re in love to get their older siblings to give in.

At last, Gabriel turns again as if he just now realizes - or feels - the glares.

“We’re basically family now. You’re going to see each other more often, unless you plan on not attending any family gatherings from here on now, or making some rotating schedule on who gets to go when. It’s just a dance practice, please,” Gabriel pleads, trying to reason with you.

“Gabriel, no,” Miguel says annoyed, exasperated that he and your sister would even think about this considering the fact that neither he nor you like each other.

“Please, if you don’t, she might cancel the session, or charge us double, or something.”

“She can’t do that,” you say. “Can she?”

“Please,” Gabriel and your sister say in unison, something they do a lot, which kind of annoys you sometimes, to be honest.

“It’s not like we’re asking you to kiss. Just - act like a couple,” you sister says. “Please, just for today.”

Miguel and you are both about to tell your siblings why this is inadequate, but you only manage to open your mouths before a woman comes in with a too cheerful smile on her face, stopping you from proceeding. Her presence in the room suddenly shuts all debating, leaving no room for Miguel and you to reiterate that neither of you wish to do this.

“Wonderful! Two couples. My name is Lyla,” she says turning to Miguel and you. “I’m your dance instructor. Let’s not waste any time, yes? The wedding is in two weeks! We need to start working immediately. Everybody, on the floor, please. Let’s go, you two as well, don’t be shy now.” Lyla walks over, immediately pushing Miguel and you forward. “You can be shy in each other’s arms, let’s go.”

You briefly wonder how this woman has so much strength to push the two of you into the floor but that’s quickly forgotten as she continues to speak.

“There. Ah - I see our engaged couple is ready to go,” she comments, making Miguel and you turn to find your siblings already in position, ready to dance. “Let me get these two going, they’re sooooo shy,” Lyla comments with a soft smirk, motioning to Miguel and you.

You both scowl when you hear your siblings laugh, something that cuts their laughter short and turn away.

“Sir, you need to place your hand right here. On your woman’s waist, come on, I’m sure you’ve held her before,” Lyla instructs, grabbing his wrist and placing it on your waist, making it so that Miguel’s hand grips you. Unused to his touch, you squirm when you feel Miguel’s warm hand on you. You try backing away but Lyla only pushes you forward, into Miguel’s touch.

“My, you two are really shy,” she says as she takes your hand and places it on Miguel’s shoulder, allowing you to feel his broad muscles beneath his top. “You need to learn to embrace each other. It’s intimacy.” She pushes you both together now, forcing Miguel to take more steps towards you. Again, you question how much strength Lyla has to move you like straw dolls, especially a man like Miguel. Maybe you’re both so dumbfounded by this situation, your bodies are just doing as she says, pushing you into this abnormal situation. The only sense of normalcy comes from the glares Miguel and you are shooting at each other. “Dancing is like - making love, I’m sure you two know what I’m talking about,” Lyla says before her eyebrows shoot up, thinking of something. “Unless you’re waiting for marriage then… that’s a tough one, but I think you might have an idea of what I mean.” At that, Lyla grins at the two of you.

Miguel and you silently groan at the thought of you two making love, meanwhile Gabriel and your sister are laughing in the back. You turn and give them a glare, same from Miguel, shutting them up.

“I can see you’re both tense. There’s so much - so much tension between you,” Lyla says, hand on her chin as if contemplating something deeply. “It’s that kind of tension only found in the bedroom, you know? Hm… Alright, you’’l be the leader. That means you lead the dance, sir,” she says patting Miguel’s arm.

You turn at that because why does he get to lead you?

“Why does he lead?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

“Uhh - okay, I see it now,” Lyla says with a smile, as if everything makes sense now. “That’s why there’s so much tension. You’re both - very dominant. I suppose you’re both - you switch, right? You’re switches?”

“What?” Miguel says with knitted eyebrows and a slightly opened mouth due to the shock because there’s no way this lady just asked that, right?

“Excuse me?” you manage to say, equally appalled.

“You take turns,” Lyla explains. “On who is dominant In the bedroom. The question is who will be the dominant one on the dance floor.”

You turn to look at Miguel, brows knitted. Not only are you being forced to pretend to be his partner but now you’re apparently “switches” and fighting for who dominates who. It’s stupid, you know that, but this has turned into a competition of sorts, and there’s no way you’re letting Miguel O’Hara lead you, even if it’s pretend.

“I assure you, it’ll be me. Just like how it is in the bedroom,” you state which earns you a squeeze from Miguel’s hand on your waist.

“We both know that’s not the case, amor [love],” Miguel replies through gritted teeth.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lyla pipes in between you, amused. “I love your energy, though. Alright, time to dance!”

You exhale heavily. Just why did your sister have to drag you into this? Oh right, you’re her maid of honor and the man with his hand on your waist right now is the best man.

You’re stuck in this situation now, whether you like it or not. So, Miguel and you stand like two stiff boards against each other, meanwhile your younger siblings are in another dimension of rainbows and love. They already forgot about their older siblings since they got away with their little plan.

You sigh again and turn to face Miguel, standing in front of each other, like two statues. As the minutes have ticked by with Lyla’s talk about intimacy and dominance, your fingers are now interlaced, though neither of you have noticed yet.

“Just dance, guys. I want to see what I’m working with here,” Lyla says, hands on her hips as she watches the scene in front of her, music playing in the background now.

Stiffly, Miguel and you begin to move, taking steps side by side for a good minute or so before you look up at him. Staring at hm, you notice he seems… tense. Despite yourself, you can’t help but poke fun at him.

“¿Qué pasa, Miguel? ¿Tienes dos pies izquierdos? [What's up, Miguel? You have two left feet?]” You ask mockingly, which earns yourself a half scowl because Lyla is watching you.

Miguel grips your fingers and waist as you continue to dance. You still have a soft smirk on your face, satisfied with Miguel’s annoyance when suddenly, you’re tripping over his foot. Your breath hitches as you feel yourself falling but before that happens, you feel Miguel’s wrapped arm around your waist tighten, catching you. To further annoy you, he expertly uses his other hand and maneuvers you so that your back is leaning on his arm now, with you looking up at him as he leans down. For about three or four seconds, his dark eyes bore into yours before he spins you back to face him correctly.

Annoyed, you return the gesture and slam your foot on his, causing him to grimace in pain. Holding your hand, he pushes you back with a scowl before pulling you back harshly.

“Para tu información, princesa, sé bailar [for your information, little princess, I know how to dance],” he murmurs, staring down at you.

“Hm, I wonder where from? You never dance at parties.”

“And you do? All you do is sit at the table like you’re too good to accept any man’s offer for a dance,” Miguel replies as you move across the dance floor.

Somewhere, your siblings are already receiving help from Lyla, who’s instructing them on proper hand placement.

“And you? You stand around with the other men, talking about God knows what.”

“Women, of course,” Miguel sarcastically replies as he spins you around before bringing you back to him. “We talk about the women dancing and the ones who don’t, either because they’re too shy to dance, or just snobs, como tu… comprenderas [like you... understand, comprehend].”

You scoff. “Is that them, or your personal opinion of me?” you ask, pulling back from him, hands still joined.

Miguel snickers and pulls you back, your chest slamming right into his. You scowl in response. “Quiero decirte algo [I want to tell you something].” He spins you around again. “We are going to make this work.”

“Make what work?”

“This,” Miguel says as he pulls you back in. He stares at you while you keep dancing. “I’m not going to miss out on my brother’s life. Gabriel and I are close, always have been. I have no intentions of stepping out and missing out on his life, him building a life with your sister.” He turns you around, pressing your back to his chest, his arms crossed over your body, as if keeping you locked in them to ensure you’ll listen clearly. “I’m going to be there, at every family gathering. If they have children, you better bet I’m going to be there at every birthday party, or soccer game. So, I want you to know that right now. We’re either going to make this work, or you’ll be missing out, because I’m not stepping out.”

You scoff again, and to his great annoyance and astonishment, free yourself from his arms to face him once more. You place a hand on his chest, leading him back.

“I have no intentions of missing out, O’Hara. Don’t even think about it. Being part of my sister’s life heavily outweighs the annoyance of seeing your unpleasant face.”

Miguel scoffs and wraps his large hand around your wrist before he pulls you forward, your faces mere inches from each other.

“Unpleasant face? You must be blind, princesita [little princess]. Maybe I ought to take you somewhere to get those pretty eyes checked if that’s how you see my face,” he murmurs, staring right into your eyes.

You snort and pull back. “You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, O’Hara, but I digress. I’m going to be part of my sister’s life, too. So, get used to it.”

Miguel smirks, pulling you right back against his chest. “For better or worse, we'll tolerate each other. For them,” he murmurs, staring right into your eyes.

“For them,” you agree, meeting his gaze.

For the first time, you really look into his eyes. You’ve never been quite this close to the man, not enough to appreciate their color - a deep brown with a slight maroon undertone. You see the gentle wrinkles under his eyes and forehead, probably from his job as the CEO from some company you've never bothered to learn the name of. A quick peek at his slightly parted mouth allows you to really notice the plump lips. You’ve never noticed it before, but one side of his upper lip is higher than the other, adding to the full lips. You even manage to notice a crooked tooth at the front of his teeth, something that makes you pause internally for some reason.

In a society worried all about looks, Miguel hasn't had that fixed. You glance back into Miguel's eyes but his are somewhere else, somewhere around your mouth. You don’t have enough time to question why his eyes are there though.

His eyes meet yours again, his throat showing a visible gulp as the image of your lips flashes in his head. Staring at your eyes, he once again takes notice of your eye color and the way your eyelashes frame your eyes, something he’s noticed before.

“That!”

Miguel and you instantly pull away, releasing each other. Lyla quickly approaches you, smiling.

“That's the look I was hoping for,” she says. “A look of pure passion, tension, sexiness… love” she says, giddily. “That’s the way to dance! Oh, I have no doubt you two will know exactly how to dance when your wedding date comes. I have seen enough. Take five while I revisit my initial plan, our engaged couple needs a little more help than you two,” Lyla says giving you both a wink. “There’s a lot of love there but they can’t dance to save their lives, unlike you two. If you want to take a seat and just talk, you lovebirds.” Lyla nods and heads off to your siblings, immediately laying out what needs work.

Miguel and you stand side by side, watching in silence for a few seconds before Miguel breaks the silence.

“I need to make - a work call. I’ll be outside while they get finished,” he says, pulling out his cell phone.

“Sure, you go and do that,” you reply, staring at the other three people, not sparing Miguel a glance.

He faces you, watching you for a few seconds as if expecting you to say anything else, or maybe waiting for you to face him, but you never do.

“Great,” he mutters before he walks away. A few seconds later you hear the studio’s door close.

You sigh heavily. You didn’t even know you were holding your breath. He’s so annoying, so - You do a little head shake, clearing your mind. You’ve both agreed to tolerate each other for the sake of your siblings - to be part of their lives.

“For better or worse,” you murmur to yourself.

A/N: Leaving it open-ended because this was only supposed to be a blurb and then I kept going! Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this!! <33

Alondra❤️

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cordeliawhohung · 5 months

Note

Going off of him calling reader his wife, Ps! Gaz whose highest rated video with his favorite girl is a "Honeymoon" night concept where it's basically a really romantic lovemaking video.

Their natural chemistry is perfect and the romance feels real; they even joke around a little and take things slow.

And that vid is what confirms for the fans that there's something going on between them that goes beyond the cameras.

- 🦴

part 237423849 of kore writing a drabble/one shot when she probably shouldn't have. not edited because my brain is fried? idk save me, pornstar!gaz, save me

It's late into the night when your phone screen illuminates your face.

A sleepless night quickly plagues you with a wandering mind that won't let go of the images that still haunt you from your last shoot with Kyle. The two of you have filmed countless times together, but there's something about this most recent one that refuses to let go of your mind. It overwhelms you so much that you've got your studio's porn site on your phone at nearly one in the morning.

Usually, you hate watching the videos you perform in. It crosses an odd sort of boundary in your mind that makes you feel disgusted with yourself, but you can't help but watch the one you filmed with Kyle titled "Honeymoon Getaway." Before the video even starts, you notice the ratings. Tens of thousands of people have watched the video already, and it was only edited and published five days ago. The ratings are all positive, thousands of thumbs ups and bookmarks.

Your teeth sink into your lip once the video starts. Both you and Kyle are dressed in your "wedding" attire; a well fitted suit with the jacket removed for him, and a white slip that covers your bridal lingerie for you. It's... sensual. The way he kisses you. And really fucking weird watching it from a third person perspective. You vividly remember his breath against your face and the way his hand caressed your cheek, but it's not what you're looking for, so you skip ahead.

When the video loads the next portion, Kyle's face is buried in your cunt. The angle they filmed it at is nothing compared to the view you had in real life. The way he kissed the side of your knee, keeping eye contact with you for as long as he could as he kissed all the way down your thigh until his tongue was on your clit… it’s a sensation that ghosts along the inside of your legs even as you lay there in bed.

But the video? Fuck, it’s terrible. Focusing more on the side view, obscuring his pretty face with your thigh. At this point, you’re ready to take the camera and film everything from a first person point of view next time you film with Kyle.

But that’s besides the point. You’re looking for something else.

Once again, you skip ahead and the sound of your laughter emanates from the speakers on your phone. Kyle, who had been hovering over your body, had quickly rolled you on top of him, switching your spots. It was done so effortlessly, and you try your best not to gawk at the way his muscles flex as you straddle him.

"Kyle," your voice whines over the speakers.

"Better view this way," is all he responds.

You hate it. Hate the way he makes your stomach churn just from a video alone. It almost churns worse than it did when you were really filming with him, pretending to be love-struck newlyweds fucking one another in an expensive hotel room.

You skip forward again, a significant distance this time, and Kyle has you pinned to the bed on your back. With his hands underneath your knees, you're nearly kissing them as he ruts into you. You try not to pay too much attention as the camera pans to a view of your cunt sucking him in like the good little wife you pretended to be.

Luckily, you're not stuck watching it for too long before the film shoots over Kyle's shoulders, showcasing the way your tits bounce at his relentless pace. You grimace when they zoom in, but it's not much longer before you finally find what you were searching for.

"My sweet wife. I love you so fuckin' much."

You sit up straight the moment you find it, and your fingers are scrambling to rewind so you can hear him again. The breathlessness of his voice, the lilt in his tone. It feels like gold on your ears, yet it has your heart shredding into pieces in your chest. It feels real. Too real.

But it can't last forever.

You pause the video, ceasing the sound of your moans and Kyle's fake confession. Everything spins around you when you look up from the screen and at the darkness of your room. Lonely. So fucking lonely and cold. You shake your head as you look back at your phone, and you decide to make the terrible mistake of sleuthing through the comments.

The idea of it all, was finding something that would turn you off so that you could forget it all and go back to sleep. And there were plenty of disgusting comments:

>> need a submissive wife like this

>> great tits

>> too soft with her. you need to learn to put your bitch in place the first night.

It should have been enough. You should have stopped there, but you don't. You can't stop scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. It's a vicious cycle that you can't stop, and you're stuck reading every single comment and speculation from anyone who still had living brain cells after jerking off to your video. Each and every one of them destroy you more than the last:

>> I feel like i'm ruining a special moment lmao

>> there's no way these two aren't together irl what the fuck

>> can't wait to see these two on OF together when they realize they don't want to fuck anyone else lol

>> nah, they really snuck in a whole crew on their actual honeymoon that's dedication

>> he sounds like he's about to cry when he says he loves her

You shut your phone off and fight the urge to toss it across the room as you slam yourself back against your mattress. All you want to do is sleep but your chest aches so furiously that it's all you can focus on. Everything feels so real with Kyle, and it's not fair that he's always out of your grasp. Always teasing you with the promise of fucking you off camera, of looking at you like you're the only woman in the world.

A tremble begins in your bottom lip as you shove your face into your pillow. Kyle Garrick is going to be the death of you, you're sure of it. Judging by the tears that soak your pillow that night, you know it's not going to be a kind death, either.

#pornstar!gaz #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz smut #kyle garrick smut #gaz x reader smut #kyle garrick x reader smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #f!reader #🦴 anon

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