#i was gonna make her say ''hell no'' but then i thought about it too hard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 6 months ago

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ʚ FINISH INSIDE HER ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ sum. what the hell is a full nelson? no worries, luckily underground boxer toji shows you a hands-on demonstration. although, you want choso to try it with you too. not only are you a slut visual learner, but you also think you can take them both - not in a fight though.

wc. 5.8k

warnings. fem! reader, boxer! au, boxers toji & choso, 3sum, choso walks in on you and toji, unprotected, full nelson, manhandling, brief ōral (f + m), quickie, size diff, finger sucking, praise, dirty talk, choking, they fight over you, whiny choso, squırting, impact play, slight nıpple play, premature ejac, spıt.

an. kind of based on this ask!

“upsie daisey, uh huh. biiiiig fuckin’ stretch,” your mouth drops open once your thighs gets sprawled apart. your back slumps back against the fighter — toji, you’ve been training with him for a while. not only were you training with him but you’ve also been a bit of a fan. you mentioned to him on how you wanted to strengthen your ‘flexibility’ a bit more and of course, he had just the right thing to help you. out of curiosity, you asked him about a certain position you watched him perform on his rival, choso kamo. full nelson, it was considered illegal in some rings if not all. toji would always perform a specific choking move where he’d pin choso down with ease, burly buff arms putting him in a head lock - preventing him from moving a single inch. the entire crowd always goes wild at it every single time—so you wanted to try it out for yourself. “easy, easy. don’t tap out on me jus’ yet, okay? y’er a big girl.”

bobbling your head to give him a nod, an airy breeze shoves you back into his chest. the stretchy fabric of his boxing shorts tickle against your skin upon impact. “o- okay,” you breathe, gasping once he hooks two big arms underneath the undersides of your thighs. he’s got such a good taut grip that seconds later, you felt yourself throb a bit at the feverish, hot friction. “you’re not really gonna, heh, choke me out right?”

“not unless y’er into that, princess,” he jibes, a throaty husk of a chuckle leaving out of him. and as you’re spread all out, limbs extended—yeah,

you were probably fucked.

after what seems like hours of meaningless stretches and exercises to prepare your limbs, toji’s finally got you in the position — you were sprawled right in his lap, being in a safe firm chokehold.

his voice was roughly gruff, and as he spreads your legs just a bit further, you feel the cottony bandage that wraps around his arm ghost up against your thigh. his touch was gentle and you intake a sharp breath, further continuing to lean into his touch - his grasp. “mhm, seems like y’er a bit more flexible than i thought. this comfy?”

“no,” you let off a sheepish snort, starting to feel a brief pang on your thighs from the position. to be fair — not only was full nelson uncomfortable but it was dangerous. just one wrong move and snap. but toji was a professional, he’d make sure you’d keep all your pretty little limbs in tact. probably. clearing your throat, your eyes scan around a plethora of trophies and plaques he’s won throughout his career. “but um, have you ever tried this position with no clothes on?”

toji grows quiet, allowing you to lie back on his chest. black curly strands of chest hair fondle against your skin before he murmurs gruffly into your ear. “maybe.”

the growing bulge that hid underneath his boxers had you almost feral. you felt its presence—how it was just there, poking right against your shorts.

you prepare for yet another sharp drawn out breath, taking in his loud axe cologne that wafts through the entire studio. “can we try nude?”

and that was probably dumb to ask.

it was very dumb to ask.

your lewd filthy thoughts loved to make themselves known out of your lips at the worst times. your heart raced the moment you blurted that out, feeling the tips of your ears burn a scorching temperature. he’d say no, you were almost sure of it. you were just a dumb fan who managed to be a favorite, surely he wouldn’t—

“why the hell not,” he snickers, sliding his hands toward the smooth curvature of your hips. “i’ll go easy on ya for today. let’s get rid of these,” he pulls on the string of your panties, already discarding your shorts with such quickness. “i’ll try not ‘ta break you too bad.”

but that was a lie—

not only did he break you but he stretched you out in all the ways possible.

you had the most dumbest expression, tongue lolled out, legs spread, gushing all over the velvet red boxing mat - time and time again.

pink luminescent lighting shine back against the centers of your irises as you stare up at the ceiling’s lights. you’ve never felt so weak. spit slick lips of yours were all swollen and numb from being chewed on constantly like candy. within minutes, your knees were already surrendering, bucking at his very mercy.

“fuck, tooooji.” you’d drag out his name in cute elongated syllables.

the infamous elastic stretch of his cock has you writhe and spasm all over his lap. ludicrously, your voice bounces across the cheap walls of the building. nevertheless, you can’t lie to yourself, you’ve rubbed a few out at the thought of having this moment with your favorite boxer.

unprofessional, maybe. but he didn’t care and neither did you. besides, he was helping you with your flexibility after all. even if it was a bit more intimate than most regular methods.

your heart races, thumping out quick hurried beats as he’s shoving his cock in and out of you. you’re in such a submissive position that you were just a bobble head, a doll. he treated you like one — using your body, bouncing you up and down and manhandling you all over the mat.

he gruffly cackles behind the plushy shell of your ear, watching right before his eyes as you’re jouncing on his dick. your skin was so warm, so hot, the recoil stings for a few seconds before your ass ricochets off his sharp pelvis.

the smacks and paps only grew louder, and so did your sweet melodic moans and whimpers.

a creamy pearl of a ring coats around his base and he grunts, still having a beefy arm around your neck. his muscles flex and you fight the urge to bite his bicep. “easy, good girl. lean right into me. y’er a natural.”

his words went straight to your cunt. toji was a dirty talker, never a sweet talker.

he knew how to get you wet, whether it was with his slick mouth, his tongue, or even his cock. his voice was always so low, timbre and all. the husk that it carried never failed to make you soaked. embarrassing,

oh, it definitely was embarrassing.

he’s got a free hand gripping onto your thigh, kissing your ass with his palm - rough rude spanks.

the cute flinches of your rear bouncing back against his lap makes him slide a tongue over his lips, including sliding over that notorious scar that slides down the right side of his mouth. “fuck, so fuckin’ sloppy. got the mat all soaked. should make ya lick it up, huh.”

you couldn’t even reply . . you tried, but babbles of inaudible squeaks came out instead.

it just felt too good, he felt too good.

you’re panting heavily, the repetitive pop song that blared through the boxing ring’s broken speakers gets stuck in your head. you hear the moist wails of your pussy squelching time and time again, entirely soaking yourself with your own beloved filth. a free hand of toji’s creeps its way in front of you. hand so big that he could easily cover it over your entire face if he could.

with glossy half-lidded eyes, you stare at his palm, feeling your mouth water.

thick long fingers, he knew what he was doing.

toji’s just casually waving his hand around in your face in a slow mesmerizing motion as you bounced on his cock. they were so lengthy and thick, his arms had prodding veins for days. from his wrist to the edge of his arm, you saw the veins poking out. he was so built that you couldn’t help but stare, couldn’t help but drool. “what a sloppy little girl. i could really snap you in half, heh,” he huffs, clenched abs pressing against your back. it’s hard, rock hard . . they feel like bricks.

you knew underground boxers like toji had to keep up a strict workout routine but damn.

“but you’d like that, huh,” he murmurs, bringing another smack to your slick wet folds. you moan at the stretch of your limbs, craving for more of his rude spanks against your swollen cunt. you throbbed from not only his words but his touch too, and the thought of him literally breaking you had you a bit more soaked than you thought it would.

this was a workout of its own - rutting your weight up and down against him. he’s got a secure hold on your body, holding your thighs up in place.

you were stupid, not even acknowledging that you’d already grab ahold of his wrist, stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you moan the second the dry bandaged digits delve past your lips and makings way down your throat. as your ass steadily rocks against him in sloppy rhythm, you feel the very tips of his fingers prod against your puny uvula. you almost gag at the unexpected feeling—a cobwebby trail of saliva that was translucent pours down the side of your parted lips.

“no manners, tch,” he scoffs and his ripped abs continue to brush up against your back. “sloppy baby. got some nerve showin’ up to train being this fuckin’ nasty ‘n soaked.”

the hot skin against skin contact rubbing off against each other had your panties in a bunch, despite them already being technically pulled to the side and abandoned.

you were already still sensitive, swollen achy cunt sobbing out its own pleas of pleasure.

haphazardly, your knees buckle and he snatches his fingers out of your mouth. he does this solely to get a taste himself, swirling his pink pointed tongue against his slippery digits all thanks to you. “startin’ ‘ta think you came here for more than to just get an autograph ‘n work out with me, pretty girl.”

and as the plump crown of his cock molds you a tiny brief bulge from just his size alone — it repeatedly thrashes up against your sweetest spot. you shudder, about to collapse backward before you hear the jingling bells of the front door sound off.

“h- hey, toji man. did i leave my . . gloves . . ?”

choso, toji’s rival and regular training partner stares at the erotic scene and his face twists.

“oh,” and he’s flustered right away.

you stop bouncing and your eyes widen as big as saucers—yet, you weren’t even embarrassed. you were in awe, you knew all about choso kamo.

the choso kamo, anyone would be crazy not too. he was the most recent up and coming boxer, and after beating toji with a brutal close score of 58-57.

as you’re reclined back against toji—you finally get a good look at the other dark haired boxer.

he was slim yet also well built, choso was known for fighting opponents with his iconic ponytails but as of currently - he started to wear his hair down. sometimes he’d pin it up, a bit of a wolf cut that flew down his broad shoulders.

as his bashful gaze met yours, he grew nervous. very nervous.

black sable hued shorts cling onto his hips whilst he was shirtless, a few past battle scars painting the entire canvas of his perfectly chiseled body. “am i . . interrupting something?”

“nah. c’mere, ‘cho,” a husky voice calls out and he pauses in his tracks. the air suddenly clouded its way with imaginary thick smoke of lust and tension. it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

he swallows—dragging his bare feet across the crimson red mat toward you both, ducking underneath the stretchy multicolored bars before gawking at you. he was far pretty up close once he entered the practice ring, he runs a hand behind his neck before averting his eyes away from your nude body out of respect.

“he’s always been kinda shy,” toji purrs to you, still buried deep into your cunt. you shiver, every movement he makes makes—even just sitting up makes you let off a soft noise. you chew the inside of your cheek, feeling a stickiness stick between your thighs. dark green eyes flicker at choso and he hums, tilting his head. “choso, you know how to do full nelson too, yeah?”

“y- yeah, of course i do why?”

“you’re avoiding eye contact again.”

choso gulps - burying his hands into the burrows of his shorts pockets. a sheet of sweat marinates across his forehead before he glances at toji, rephrasing. “eh, yeah i know how to do full nelson. why?”

“because,” toji smacks his lips, a hand prying its way between the valley of your legs. you moan, still feeling full from tepid hot dumps of his cum practically oozing out of your puffy slit. “we’ve got a new opponent ‘n she wants to experience what it’s really like on the ring.”

“toji, we do full nelson all the time,” choso timidly runs a bundle of fingers through his buzzed undercut, a timid smile curling against his lips. “we never usually do it um . . naked though.”

the boxer underneath you deadpans. he could be so dense, choso stands still before a small gasp wrenches out of his pink glossed lips.

“oh.. oh,” and his face turns into a flustered tint.

you’ve watched a bit of his interviews and it seemed not only was he shy with the press but he was also very shy in person. it was cute, regardless.

as you’re busy being trapped up in your own thoughts, choso can’t help but peek down toward your legs. you were all exposed and being stretched out by his rival. he sucks his teeth in longing, briefly staring away before feeling himself grow a bit . . aroused. “i feel disrespectful for looking, ‘m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay,” you murmur in coy reassurance, and a hand tugs onto his wrist. choso’s breath hitches at your touch, and you felt his dark eyes flicker back toward you. there’s this look in choso’s eyes, it’s mainly lust-driven. his pupils were blown and his heart raced, you looked so pretty. it’s not like he didn’t exactly not know you. he’d see you every so often when you were ‘training’ with toji. not only that but he’d spot you attending almost every boxing match. always in the front row with a vip lanyard. secretly, you were more of a choso fan but toji didn’t have to know that. “do you wanna touch me too?”

“yes,” he blurts out almost right away and his face flushes a deeper shade. a rumble from toji shakes his shoulders - he’s chuckling, and you feel a big arm wrap around your torso. you bite down on your lip, still feeling yourself sit in a creamy puddle of filth, warm cum still plugged into you. choso starts to pant, watching you slither a hand between your thighs, spreading your soppy pussy lips. “i mean.. oh, that’s..” and he’s barely able to think straight, watching as you toy with yourself whilst still being full of toji’s thickset cock. his head starts to spin before he inches closer, kneeling down after your cute hand gestures to come here. “a- are you sure you want me to—”

“it’s okay, go ahead.” you hum, guiding his wrist.

“choso, she’s not gonna bite ya,” toji snickers, bringing your legs back down. as of now — you were currently straddling him with your back facing his chest. choso rubs his neck once more, growing sheepish yet again. it’s adorable, but again, he’s seen you at his matches and face offs. choso being choso though was far too shy to say anything or thank you for your support. but now, maybe he could thank you in another way. toji crosses his arms, cocking his head as he glances at the scene. “atta boy.”

a scowl forms on the timid boxer as his fingers resume to brush up against your drooling cunt. “s- shut up, toji,” and you let off a moan at his gentle strokes. you continue to lie back against toji - staring at choso, ogles as two plump fingers of his partner’s play up and down against your soddened entrance. choso’s mouth starts to water the more he stares, admiring how full you were—you had a few remnants of toji’s cum oozing from your slit and he swipes it up, bedaubing it against your pussy to make it sheeny again. “f- fuck, you’re so pretty.”

“you can t- touch me more, choso,” you lightly pause his hand by grabbing his wrist. his eyes meet yours and he felt the tent in his boxers tighten. oh, he was already whipped from the sound of your voice. with half lidded smoky eyes, he huffs out a single breath before glancing at your lips. you climb off of toji and a brief pop exits your cunt - dragging choso closer. “are you hard, choso?”

“he’s definitely hard,” toji tchs, averting his jade green eyes toward his partner’s shorts. it was hard to not notice the presentable bulge that’s sticking right in front of his leather everlast brand shorts. “cute.”

“shut up man,” he repeats with a glowering scowl.

with a cute dramatic sigh, choso grumbles something under his breath - trying to pay more attention back toward you. he leans into your touch, closing the gap between your legs until he’s right between you. choso presses a chaste kiss against your collarbone before moaning into your tender skin. he couldn’t help but suck against your shoulder for a few seconds, relishing in your candied flavor.

you were so sweet - bandaged hands roam everywhere on your displayed body before he exhales deeply, staring at you with almost heart shaped pupils. “you . . wanna try full nelson with me too, princess?”

throwing your arms over him, you hum with a subtle nod. “yeah, ‘s okay. i can handle it.”

famous last words,

with choso . . he stretched you all the way out, probably even more than toji.

his cock was just as thick, maybe even more. his fat reddened tip swelters the inside of your sopping pussy so good until you’re whimpering his name on constant loop. it’s like a mantra, you’re so dumb that it’s like his five lettered name was the only thing your brain could comprehend to say.

he’s got you upright in the same exact position before, slinging two beefy arms underneath your thighs as your weight bounces and defies gravity.

“fuck, fuck,” he whines, the addictive squeeze your cunt had never failed to make itself known. he reached any and every area so deep. choso had a delicious curve to his cock that sent you straight butterflies. it expands through your walls, french kissing your insides until you whine. his base was repeatedly getting smacked from your ass, each ‘n every time you jerked up from his lap. “y- you’re so good. so warm, ‘m gonna pass out.”

“aren’t you the boxer though?” you try to tease, but your cheeky voice falters the second his slitted tip kisses against that spot.

your vision was merely blurry, seeing nothing but a kaleidoscope of stars. in almost defeat, your head falls back against his chest and toji watches the entire time, buff arms crossed and an amused cunning expression. seeing you milk his rival was something he didn’t know would turn him on so much.

choso doesn’t reply to your little jest, still pumping such fat inches inside of your gripping walls. he’s already dumb, knocked out cold with a solid punch - not necessarily from an opponent, but your pussy. “hang onto me, ‘kay? this position requires lots of um . . s- stamina.”

as you nod, your entire body dangles and bobs from the movement — parching hot friction gluing against each jolting limb before you spasm.

“chosoooo,” and your thighs collapse, coming to its pleasurable demise. his thrusts were sloppy, the squelches of your own body was so lewd. you heard it through and through, glancing down to see yourself flutter and clench around his cock. “fuck, fuck ‘m gonna get close again.”

“wait,” a gruff voice murmurs and you glance up to see toji standing over you. he cups your chin, a thumb caressing your quivering bottom lip. “such a empty mouth. hm, open for me, pretty. think you could use some throat training too.”

as choso’s still plummeting his cock into your swollen cunt - stretching you out dexterously, you part your lips open.

by your surprise, toji’s lips meets yours and he pulls you into a deep kiss. it’s a bit of a rushing kiss, sloppy and strings of saliva tangling between each mouths. you moan, feeling the weight of your breasts bounce as you’re making haste on the other boxer’s lap. fuck, you were quite literally living the dream. you whimper, feeling his broad hands grab against your tits, using thumbs to push squeeze pressure against your perky nipples. he was always so handsy, allowing his hands to wander everywhere and yanking against the remaining pathetic pieces of fabric that covered your body.

you were still layered . . partially,

his rough scarred hands slide underneath your blouse as he’s continuing to make out with you, curling his parted tongue beside your own before it turns into obscene sucking. your own tongue occasionally scrapes against his scar that located directly near the right side of his mouth - it tickles a bit—however, you whimper once choso’s dick created its own little kisses against your g-spot.

abruptly, toji who was just claiming your mouth a few seconds ago pulls away from the continued kiss to grip underneath your chin again. “ah, say ah,” and he hums at your obedience, staring at your pretty pink tongue rolling out of your mouth flat. “good, ‘m gonna train this throat a little bit for ya, sweets. that alright?”

“o- okay,” and you’re briefly cut off once he springs out his cock again, thwacking his pink pearly tip against your tongue. he lets off a gruff satisfied grunt, feeling himself harden up once you flick your tongue against his slit. you’re slow, making sure to savor his taste. he watches, smacking his lips and his left brow curls.

toji bites his lip, his abs curlings as he watches you try to suck him of fully — he smacks his cock all against your face softly, watching your needy pout before humming. “such a needy cock hungry slut,” and a thumb swipes against your lip, preparing to insert his hardened shaft down your throat. “aw, you want more, do ya?”

you nod before moaning, feeling choso kiss down your neck, yearning for your attention.

“y- you’re doing so good,” choso whines against your ear, clinging onto your jerking body. “ngh, don’t listen to toji. he’s just mean.”

toji rolls his eyes. he’d reply with a sassy remark but he was still feeling the after effects of sensitivity. his muscles were all tense and spasming from you just bouncing on him just a few minutes ago. you’re just grinding onto choso, feeling your hips ridiculously buckle and snap before he smears his cockhead against your lips like it was lipstick. his plump tip goes against your wet lips, only for him to smack it against your clean pink tongue. “mmph.” you lashes flutter, ogling as he buries a few fingers into your scalp for a good grip. toji grunts, briefly tossing his head back in rapture. his scent grows stronger as he gradually starts to sink his way into your mouth.

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum. i can’t last,” choso babbles, facial expressions scrunching up the more you quicken your tempo on his lap. toji glances at choso who’s melting right underneath you — he’s got you in a secure hold, but it’s lazy.

one of his arms sling around your torso, another holding onto your thigh. “fuck,” he sucks against your neck, feeling the stretch increase. your walls were his own worst enemy, preparing to milk him for all of his worth. everything felt hot, his throat felt dry and he’s starting to shake right underneath you. “gonna cum, gonna c- cum.”

“not yet, ‘cho,” he grunts, watching as you lean in, adjusting your throat to his heavy size. your tongue swirls around the peeling slit and he huffs, a single hand tightening its hold against the roots that stick onto your scalp. “mhm, look at me. don’t worry about him, he’s just a crybaby,” and you can hear choso let off a scoff from behind you. toji’s sensitive cock was still dribbling a bit with a concoction of your previous juices and he groans at the image of you lapping it right up. “c’mon, little deeper. i wanna feel that slutty roof.”

whilst you’re having your mouth and cunt filled entirely—choso’s whining pitches louder and louder. so loud that it reverbs all throughout the thin walls of the empty boxing arena. thankfully, there wasn’t anyone here and it was usually closed on saturdays. he didn’t like be edged, he hated it.

but it felt good,

so fucking good.

especially due to the fact that he was so close to you, hearing your sweet whimpers follow in sync with his.

your voice made his cock twitch and from the inside, you felt it all.

every frantic spasm - you felt it, not to mention the few lightning type veins that run down the upward curve of his cock, you felt that too.

you rocked against him until your knees were at its last. he’s still holding you up but even he was about to tap out. choso had stamina - but he was no match for his rival, toji.

with murky low eyes—toji’s staring dead at you, bobbling your head and merely shoving you down just a little deeper.

you get sloppy, a puddle of drool trickling down the corners of your chin and down the valley of your chest before his tip hits against the roof of your mouth again.

it’s a rough rude hit and his cock gives the very back of your throat its own few jabs. a combo if you will — yet it’s more raunchy instead of sportsmanlike.

“eyes on me baby. yeah, yeah,” toji turns your head a bit, locking onto your sweet gaze. “get it wet, clean it up for me. make me just as much of a mess as you, girl.”

his words were so low - an almost growl. you were too focused on toji that you concisely forgot about the other boxer that’s sat underneath you.

choso came and it was so sudden—he couldn’t hold it anymore.

his grip weakens and he slouched back against the ring, spurts of hot cum pouring into you deep. he’s trembling, feeling a wave crash down on him as he’s succumbing to his high. choso can’t help but try to mimic toji, swatting the palm of his hand softly against your ass. even his spanks were respectful.

the worn out boxer pants, letting off an adorable finish. his vocals were quite loud despite having a deep bellow. “baby oh, fuuuck,” he mewls out, dark brows coming together. choso was about to lose it even more at the feeling your swiveling hips throwing itself around in a circle just because. toji watches the entire thing, how you were teasing his partner whilst having your mouth all stuffed full. as he’s stood tall before you both, his abs clench and you get a face view of it all. perfectly incised along the edges, you saw a few marks and scars coat against his skin and it’s never been more attractive. choso on the other hand found his hands grabbing onto your tits, gently brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipples before nuzzling into your neck. he was definitely pussy drunk — you could hear it. “babyyy,” a soft voice whines pussy drunkly against the lobe of your ear, and you depart your lips away from toji’s cock. he groans, viewing you lie back before you start to twitch out a bit yourself.

not only was choso close but so were you. as your legs were all stuck up in the air in its ideal position, you dramatically gasp once you feel it.

there’s a tugging pile of pressure that presses down on your tummy. your jaw drops—dangles and everything as you’re being pushed further toward the edge. your arousal steadily builds up until it finally comes.

just seconds apart from choso, you pant - a brief pang of electric shock ascending down right through you. you were speechless for a moment.

there’s nothing but a white noise blaring through each of your ears. it feels like an unpredictable wave, a powerful wave that ripples right through your entire body. it took you a long time to realize you were finishing - not only finishing but you were squirting.

“ohmygodddd,” you whimper out, feeling your legs vigorously shake. you gush out right onto the mat. feeling yourself grow hot — you’re even hotter because of choso’s body underneath you.

effortlessly, bodies stick against each other, snuggling in filthy warmth. as you’re leisurely coming to a halting stop of your rhythmic hips, choso’s cock remained tuck inside of you and you catch your breath, head cutely flopping back against his bare chest.

“did . . did you just squirt on me?” choso whimpers, a tremor in his voice.

his voice, it grew a bit raspier. although, you could still hear the softness lingering underneath it.

toji leans in toward you both, spreading your legs open just a bit more - he strums a calloused thumb down your opening, peering as you’re still fluttering out of arousal and was still sopping wet all the way from your needy clit.

“she fuckin’ did,” he coos, and he leans down, getting right on his knees.

you watch with low hooded eyes, still feeling surges of nirvana and euphoria overtake your body. toji purrs in contentment, wide open palms slapping against the foamy ring mat before sticking out his lengthy rosy tongue. you’re catching irregular heavy breaths right along with choso, full lungs preparing to collapse and give out before you pulse.

the moment toji drags his long tongue over the dampened spot of where you just made a mess—you felt yourself throb yet again.

so nasty, he had no shame at all. choso watched too, and he felt the exact same way as you did.

“what a mess,” and with another throaty chuckle leaving his lips, he cleans the mat off entirely before going between your legs. you moan, his palm gifting your cunt with a single abrupt spank. you’re so drenched that a few spurts of your slick coat onto his hand. toji stares at it, scoffing. “pussy tryin’ to talk back i see,” and he rubs his hand in a circular rotation against your cunt, maneuvering all kinds of shapes with his palm. you whimper, grabbing onto choso’s wrist. in awe, toji watches as dumps of cum ooze out of your opening and he even licks that up too, sticky black hair all unkempt and gluing against his forehead. the thin black bangs that run down his brows gives him a more alluring look and he hums, darkened eyes meeting his partner’s. “choso. don’t be a zombie. c’meree.”

you were definitely fucked—

being laid out, defeated and just stupidly stupid.

your legs sprawl outward as they’re both right between them. taking turns, flicking tongues of each against your swollen cunt. they took fighting over you to an entire new level. as they were drinking you dry — you couldn’t help but imagine the lewd thought of taking them both at the same time. you’d probably get crushed, you could barely even handle one as is, but two? that’d be an actual knockout for real.

as you’re still in a trancing daze, you watch both of the boxers with wide rounded eyes, grabbing both of them by the hair. there’s choso who’s really sweet and gentle, giving your pussy soft kitten kisses, softly brushing a thumb down your slit.

and then there’s toji . .

the clit biter - opposite of choso being the clit kisser, he doesn’t care.

with ravened brows furrowing up, he’s so rude to your pussy. every few seconds, he’d tenderly nibble against your pulsating nub, knowing that you’re sensitive there. with a smug grin, he shifts his eyes at you to stare at you dead in the face whilst he’s right between your legs. he’s messy too, moving his head from side to side, his scar swipes against your cunt every now and then.

not only was he messy but he was a hogger. he slurps you clean, luxuriating the tasteless flavor on his tongue before he hears choso cutely huff out in frustration.

“toji, you’re hogging her. ‘s no fair,” he grunts, dark eyes catching a glimpse at him from his hazy peripherals.

“cry ‘bout it,” and he spits on your cunt, hooked bump of his nose rubbing all against your slit.

already - toji’s chin was drenched, and so was choso’s. they both match with a slick of your sheeny arousal dripping down their perfectly chiseled chins. about a good hour had probably passed — then again, you were too dumb to acknowledge the time. all you knew was that you were soaked. you whimper, being nothing but a stiff shivering mess as they devoured you whole.

the numbness in your legs had your back rising up in ecstasy. you wanted more. sloshing slick tongues thrash and glissade against each other before they eventually . . tangle.

toji groans, accidentally meeting with choso’s lips and its brief. his eyelashes open and he has a sly smile at his rival. you watch the entire thing, the timid boxer versus the smug one. toji’s hand still remains on your folds and he’s multitasking, seductively licking choso’s bottom lip - still locking his gaze on him. he’s starting to taking his attention off of you. “hm, don’t tell me you wanted attention from me ‘n not her this entire time, ‘cho.”

a lump gets caught in his throat. choso grows flustered, hearing his own pulse shoot out through his ears as his lips made contact against his rival. “i—”

he’s hard, flaccid still, but definitely hard. there was a loud silence once a smack noise leaves there lips the second they each depart. choso’s got a pout, a longing pout before he tries to act tough.

“shut up, toji.” he grouses, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“how ‘bout ya make me,” and you’re just sat there dumbfounded with your legs still sprawled as if you weren’t just being fought over - invisible questions marks pop up everywhere over your head. what about you? what about you. with quick reflexes, he pins choso flat down on his back before snickering, having the most lewd back arch imaginable.

“our re-match is tonight after all, pretty boy.”

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holographicbutch · 1 year ago

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I have such a Talee'ah brainworm rn it's unreal. Any time I see a group of characters in media I imagine what she would be like in that group and in one-on-one interactions with them and it's really taking up way too much of my brain space

#me: i need to work on my campaign. we have a session on wednesday and i want to make sure im 100% prepared #for any lore questions my players will ask #my brain: no. were gonna think about our loser elf girl and her dumb feelings instead #for hours.#anyways im really stuck up on the idea of chetney gifting her a wooden toy designed for her to give to her siblings #after he finds out that she has 4 younger siblings #and her mask just breaking for a minute when he tells her its so she can give it to them the next time she sees them #thinking about how she would relate to oryms grief #how she would probably avoid one-on-one convos with fcg because she does NOT want to get therapised. getting mad when they push too much #i just. AUGHHHH #shes so COMPLICATED and such a coward. bells hells would kill her #anna says stuff #my ocs #i also have a lot of thoughts on her and the bg3 origin characters because i played her in my first playthrough #ive thought about making a chart with like. her opinions of the characters/their opinions of her #across all three acts. WHOOF #im so normal about her (lying)

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2tarbell · 4 months ago

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US — KOOK!READER

rafe cameron had been yours since the moment you met.

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

if anyone asked you, you’d say you never got jealous. what was the point? a seemingly endless waste of energy and your valuable attention — people would get on their knees in seconds for a chance to talk to you. a kook princess never got jealous.

which is why the stinging question of ‘why?’ bounced around your head as you watched rafe walk back over to the bar, a pretty head of dark hair awaiting him with an infuriatingly easy going smile.

sofia.

you only learned her name after she introduced herself with a little grin. something about the pogue was effortless and it was currently eating away at any confidence you might’ve had when you walked in.

your makeup felt heavy and your miniskirt too short, too tight — did you look trashy? like you were trying too hard? she was sweet; that girl next door energy you know you’d never have. no matter how much you cried and pleaded.

a bump to your shoulder interrupted your brooding, pretty glossed lips stuck together in a pout, mimicking the furrow of your brow. topper gave you a knowing look and a scowl met him. he chuckled dryly.

“earth to princess, hellooo?”

you rolled your eyes, directing your attention to your empty cocktail glass. the ice looked back at you mockingly — you’re the one who asked rafe to go get you another drink. stupid, stupid, stupid.

“go to hell, top.” the quip made your other best friend laugh, kelce reaching across the table to steal a fry from your untouched plate. how could you eat in a moment like this?

“what’s the problem? you’re literally pouting.” the boy mumbled.

the way kelce spoke through a mouthful of fried potato made you wince. a napkin is thrown in his direction, landing on the table lamely. boys are so messy, and nosey.

you huff dramatically, “ugh, it’s nothing. god, i miss when men went off to war and, like, died or something—“

your annoyed spiel is cut off by a drink being placed in front of you, the lime already squeezed in and floating amongst the cubes of ice. just how you like it. a warm hand rests on the nape of your neck as the chair beside you squeaks against the floor. that voice you know so well rumbling close to you.

“who’s dying?” rafe mumbles as he gets comfortable in the plush chair again, arm stretching behind your shoulders. the gesture is so casual and it makes your stomach twist.

his eyes are piercing when you look over at him — a smirk raises his lips and you fight the urge to slap him then kiss it off his stupid face.

“you — if you were gonna take any longer.”

the eye roll you receive is nothing out of the ordinary — rafe was used to your bitchy tendencies. but watching him chat with the bartender made a seed of doubt burrow into your mind. sofia probably wasn’t such a cunt. maybe that’s why he likes her.

“yeah, well, someone wanted a lime and they were out. sorta hadta wait for your shit, dollface…” rafe explained like it was second nature.

your passive aggressiveness never seemed to phased him, he always put up with it, with you. the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. it was masked with a glare.

you flipped your hair over your shoulder and crossed a leg over the other, stomach churning while you poked at the cocktail with the thin black straw. the conversation between the boys picked back up — blah blah, golf, topper whining about sarah, blah blah.

it was like the cameron boy sensed your disinterest. his arm on the back of your chair shifted, blunt nails now tracing up and down your spine. the contact made your back straighten before leaning into his touch.

it was pacifying for a while. his side profile caught your attention, nose sharp and sexy, cheekbones crafted expertly. he was so handsome it was unfair... she probably thought so, too.

god, why couldn’t you stop thinking about that pogue girl? was he charming and funny to her? maybe he played hard to get and dismissive. maybe her number was sitting in his pocket, scribbled on a napkin in perfect curls — fucking ew.

suddenly you became irritated. the thought of your best friend, your rafe thinking he could flirt with someone like her then slink back over to you. yeah, right. you weren’t that easy. you rolled your shoulders, shrugging off his touch. he shot you a look but didn’t say anything, just adjusted in his chair.

you were listening to the conversation even less now, anger and something you didn’t want to name boiling in your chest. stiff as a board, you picked at your food. only humming in acknowledgment when something concerned you. it was obvious something was the matter and your friends shared curious looks with each other but never asked you outright.

a warm palm tried to squeeze your thigh but you pushed his hand off. rafe clenched his jaw at your dismissal, feeling that familiar need for dominance over you and whatever fuckin’ attitude you decided to have today. with topper and kelce in a heated debate over something probably stupid, rafe leaned in — his breath was hot against your ear as he spoke in a low warning tone.

“don’t know what your fuckin’ deal is — but it ends now, yeah? eat.”

the glare you sent up through your lashes only stoked the fires of his annoyance. there’s a momentary stare off, eyes communicating thousands of thoughts and unspeakable feelings.

with a scoff you look away, feeling a lump form in your throat. no, this isn’t happening. you stand abruptly and rifle through your purse for a hundred before you throw it on the table, storming off with heels clicking.

the sound echoes in rafe’s head as he snatches the bill up, placing his card down on the table. he quickly follows after you, ignoring the way sofia’s eyes light up when he heads her direction.

“hi, rafe, i was just…” her words fizzle out in her tongue as she watches him pass her, marching after the pretty girl in a yellow top.

the small family bathroom offered a reprieve from the stifling nature of rafe’s presence and your own mind. looking in the mirror — you hardly recognized yourself. you shoved your purse onto the counter, feeling like your composure was completely lost.

eyes wide and teary, lips still glittery but trembling. this was only a version of you he could bring out. now, you found yourself wishing for the comforting weight of his words and gaze and — no, be strong. get it together.

the silence was broken by the door being pushed open with immense force. your head dropped, not trusting yourself to form a witty stab of words. within seconds he was turning you, body hard and pressing your back into the counter, reaching behind you and shoving the hundred dollar bill back into your purse. a wince left you when he gripped your jaw tightly with a hold unforgiving and questioning.

“fuck was that, huh? you— you were doin’ so well, dollface, and now—”

the words halted when he saw a shiny tear streak down your face. the way his eyes softened only pushed you further into despair. his hand moved, now cupping your face and running a thumb along your cheekbone. the wet pearl caught on his skin but once they started, they just kept coming.

soon you were in his arms, hiccuping and holding on for dear life. rafe rocked you with a tight hold — voice soothing despite the look of confusion on his face. he’d never seen you this upset before, this broken.

“hey, hey, woah — what’s’a matter? what happened?” he cooed.

his large palm smoothed over your hair as you pressed your makeup running cheeks to his chest. hugging rafe always made everything better, but now you can’t stop thinking about him holding her like this.

he spoke your name firmly, pulling your head back to look deep into your wet eyes. his stare was intense, worried and seeking answers.

“use your words f’me,” he pushed your hair back off your forehead as he mumbled. and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve shrieked about him ruining your hair.

“jus’— d’you like her?” you blubbered.

rafe was more than confused, his eyebrows drawn together tightly. he crouched down a little, trying to hear your meek voice better.

frustrated and distraught, you pushed him back weakly. a few more inches were put between you two — only a few seconds until he crowded you again, trying to soothe you.

“sofia, rafe! do you like her?”

your yelling had him stepping even closer. shaking his head quickly, confused and slightly irritated, rafe cupped your cheeks in his palms.

“okay, okay— i heard you. don’t scream. i don’t— i don’t even fuckin’ know her. stop, stay still—“

you were squirming, trying to get far from him. far from this and the horrible ache in your chest at just the thought him maybe, possibly—

“stop, i’m talking now. ‘m not— i don’t like sofia, okay? i don’t, y’hear me?” his voice was authoritative, freezing you in place. those blue eyes pleaded with yours for understanding, for trust.

despite the tension between you, his heart skips a beat as your gaze meets his. he sees the sparkle in your eyes, that fire mixed with a hint of softness that he’s so fond of. it gives him a glimmer of hope that maybe he can bridge this gap between you.

“c’mon. you know you’re my girl.”

you melt into him unconsciously, seeking that warmth his embrace always seemed to bring. you’re hugging each other tightly in the small bathroom. rafe stares at your figures in the mirror, watching as you nuzzle further into his arms. like you belong there.

with a sniffle, you tip your head back. feeling so small as you look up at his face. rafe leans down and presses a tender kiss to your mouth — moving slowly in a moment of raw vulnerability.

his voice is low, you feel the vibrations against your lips as he speaks softly, “i wouldn’t do that t’you… to us.”

he feels your body tense at his words, his hands squeeze your hips. with wide eyes you pull back from the kiss and gape at him. his touch is begging you to listen, to not freak out. the tears well anew as you let his words wash over you. us. he thinks there’s an us.

suddenly, it’s like you can breathe again. like all the nights feeling scared and confused without him seem worth it. all of it’s worth it to be in his arms like this, hearing him justify the feelings you’ve done everything to bury.

rafe cups your cheek in one hand, the other arm wrapping fully around your body. there’s something so tender and charged about the way he’s looking at you and wiping your crocodile tears away.

he’s begging you now, eyes flicking between yours, “you’re my girl, you know that. always gonna be us, a’ight?”

a light burns in your heart and you realize that you do know that. when has it ever been anything else? when has he not been by your side, dealing with your bullshit? rafe cameron had been yours since the moment you met.

with a shaky exhale you nod, leaning into his palm. the sight of you so fragile tears at his heart and rafe draws you in closer. his nose finds home in your hairline and he peppers kisses along your forehead. us.

the revelation didn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth, insecurity still pecking at your mind.

“she’s probably easier to deal with.”

“nah, i don’t wan’ easy.”

he pulls back, holding the back of your neck to angle your face towards him. there’s a hardness to his gaze — like the very idea of easy is repulsing him. then he’s smirking and leaning in.

rafe presses a firm kiss to your mouth, tongue parting your lips and swallowing the hiccup of pleasure that slipped out. his leg wedges its way between yours, knee pressed snugly underneath your miniskirt. he’s devouring you completely unforgivingly. without thought, you roll your hips against his knee. the tension in your body melts away as the friction of his jeans meets your covered clit.

“mmf, rafe—”

“i don’t want easy,” his words accented by harsher presses of his leg upward, causing you to choke on air, “i want you. whiny and bratty and beautiful you. got it?”

nodding your head fervently, he smushes his lips against yours. lifting you onto the small counter and shoving a hand up your skirt, his hardness pressing thick and pulsing against your thigh. the kiss so messy and clothes haphazardly being pulled to the side. the spark of finally being seen, finally being acknowledged as his, fuels the moment.

the sex is slow and steady, a promise of commitment and dedication to this messy relationship. to each other. tears of pleasure and happiness collect on your lash line, pretty face scrunched in ecstasy only rafe could provide.

(and topper and kelce took his card and ordered five beers each.)

#kook!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #fanfic #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe obx #obx smut #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #rafe x you #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron prompt

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punkshort · 22 days ago

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Just Friends

Thank you @brittmb115 for this prompt!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Accompanying your friend Javier to his holiday work party seemed simple enough until it gets a little too hard to just pretend to be dating.

Warnings: language, fake dating, one bed trope, sexual tension, jealousy, flirting, cigarette use, alcohol use, friends to lovers, reader has insecurities about her looks, fingering, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex

WC: 6.4K

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Please, cariño, it's just one night. The party's at a casino about two hours outside the city. The DEA paid for hotel rooms 'cause they're worried about people drinking and driving. We'll be back by noon on Saturday, you'll still have your whole weekend to mope around over Travis," Javi begged as he followed you around your kitchen.

"Trent," you corrected with a glare over your shoulder. Javi just waved you off.

"Yeah, whatever. His name doesn't matter anymore, now does it?" he countered with an arched brow. You frowned and continued to put your dishes away.

Javier was right - Trent's name didn't matter anymore. Not after he dumped you out of the blue, two weeks before Christmas. He probably didn't want to buy you a gift, Javier had said when you called him up crying. It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to hear, but at least he made you laugh.

"And why is it you don't want to attend this event by yourself? I thought you would have wanted to take some poor secretary back to your room for the evening," you said, flipping the dishwasher closed before playfully adding, "This better not be some sick move to try to get into my pants again." Javi pulled out his carton of cigarettes and began to anxiously tap it against his palm. When you whisked by, you smacked it out of his hand with a warning: do not smoke in my house.

"You've made it very clear I won't be touching your pants, hermosa," he chuckled, recalling a handful of failed attempts to get you into bed before giving up entirely. "But, uh, I've been taking one too many secretaries home lately," Javi admitted with a lopsided grin. "Got one real pissed at me for not calling her back. Had to make up a lie that I had gotten back together with an ex, so..."

Your jaw dropped and you stared daggers at him with your hands on your hips.

"So not only are you asking me to go with you to this party, but I'm supposed to pretend we're dating?" you clarified, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. When he nodded sheepishly, you tossed your hands in the hair and began to curse under your breath.

"Oh, come on! It won't be that bad! It's not like she's gonna say anything. It's just for looks. Hell, you never know. Maybe you'll meet someone at this thing. I could be doing you the favor of a lifetime," he said before hopping up to sit on your kitchen island. You smacked his knee when you walked past and he grinned.

"I have barstools, you know."

"Yeah, but I like it up here. Better view," he winked and jutted his chin towards your v-neck shirt.

"Gross," you scowled, making him laugh. He took a handful of nuts from the bowl on your counter and shook them in his hand like dice.

"So? What's it gonna be? You in?"

You watched him tip his head back, pouring some peanuts in his mouth, and you sighed. What the hell. You didn't have anything better to do.

"Fine."

Javier jumped off the counter excitedly. "Thank you! I owe you one!" he exclaimed before heading for your door. "I gotta run. I'll pick you up around noon on Friday. And, hey - bring a dress. The party is a little formal."

You rolled your eyes and groaned, then shooed him out your door. "Thanks. Now I have to figure out a damn outfit."

"You're the best!" he shouted happily from his car. You shut your door and turned around to sag against the wood, finally surrounded with silence. Something you thought you were craving until you had it, and then suddenly you realized you had never felt more alone in your life.

"Where the hell is this place?" you asked, staring out the passenger seat of Javier's jeep. It felt like the car kept climbing higher and higher, and the way your ears were popping, you were thinking your hunch was right.

"It's a hotel slash casino up in the hills," he said with a nod towards the open, winding road. "Supposed to have a hell of a view."

"Yeah, guess so," you muttered, then gasped when a clearing came into view and you saw just how high up you really were. "Oh, my god! Javi - look!"

"I'm driving, cariño," he reminded you with a smirk, but his eyes still flickered quickly over the ridge.

"Wow," you said breathlessly. The view was spectacular. Miles and miles of hills and trees surrounded a sprawling hotel/casino. If you were closer to the edge, you would be able to see a lazy river snaking around the bottom of the mountain.

"Alright. So what's the story?" you asked when you settled back in your seat. There was still a ways to go until you reached the casino, but you could see it from the road nestled into the landscape.

"What story?"

"Our story," you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You told a girl you got back together with an ex. So, why did we originally break up?"

"Oh," Javi said, scratching his chin. "I don't know. You really think it matters?"

"Maybe. Who knows? Probably a good idea we at least talk about it," you shrugged.

Javi thought about it for a minute before snapping his fingers. "You wanted marriage and I didn't."

You made a face and shook your head.

"That would imply we're on the path to getting engaged. You really think you can fake a whole marriage because you pissed off a girl at work?"

"Yeah, good point," he mumbled before falling quiet to think about it some more. After a few minutes, he came up with another idea. "How about you were gonna move away for a job and we didn't want to do long distance, but the job fell through and you stayed?"

You nodded slowly, rolling the idea around in your head.

"Yeah, that's good. That'll work. Then one day to explain why you're single again, you can say I got another job offer out of state or something."

"Exactly."

"Alright. Easy enough," you hummed, then turned to gaze out your window again. Javi watched you for a few minutes out of the corner of his eye, his jaw working back and forth while he tried to come up with the right words to express his gratitude.

"Hey, uh," he said, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him expectantly. "I just wanna thank you again. I know you're going through a tough time and all that-"

"Don't mention it," you said dismissively. "It's not a big deal. Plenty of guys out there, right?"

Javi gave you a tight smile. "Yeah. Sure."

One thing that you didn't have a chance to fully think through was the sleeping situation. As Javi checked you in and you heard the girl at the front desk confirm one king sized bed, you felt yourself stiffen. He signed and grabbed the keys, then shot you a warm smile before gesturing towards the elevators. From the looks of it, Javier didn't mind one bit. Then, of course, it was Javier...

"No funny business," you declared when you entered your room and Javier flopped down tiredly on the huge bed. "You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine."

"Whatever you say, cariño," he replied with his eyes closed. "I'll be reminding you of that later tonight when you're all over me after a few drinks."

"That was one time and I told you I was sorry!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning from the memory.

Your relationship in the past with Javier was... complicated. When you first met, it felt like you kept seeking each other out at all the worst times. Whenever you made a move, he was unavailable, and vice versa. Eventually, you had decided to just be friends and left it at that. And it worked well. You had an easy relationship where it felt effortless and natural to go to the other with some exciting news, and sought a shoulder to cry on if something bad happened. It just seemed to work better without the romantic element.

All of that aside, at the crux of the issue was you were a romantic, through and through. You liked being in long term relationships. You enjoyed the comfort and peace it brought. Javier, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. You couldn't even remember the last time he brought the same girl out for drinks more than once and you had a suspicion he had never been in love.

"I'm just messing with you. Can't help it, I like when you're all flustered," Javi said before sitting up with a groan. When he stretched, you found your eyes drifting down to where his shirt rode up, revealing a small sliver of bronzed skin. You swallowed and forced yourself to look away because no matter how many times you reminded yourself it would never work between you, it didn't stop you from being unbearably attracted to him.

It was the confidence that he exuded. That was what you had finally decided was the thing that kept you drawn to him in a decidedly less-than-friendly way. But of course, you were quick to remember you weren't the only one who was attracted to his charm. Half the women in the city noticed it, too. You had just gotten very good at hiding it.

"What time's the party start?" you asked, hauling your duffel bag onto the bed so you could begin to unpack your toiletries. The first thing you did was take out the dark red slinky dress you bought so you could steam out the wrinkles with the iron packed away in the coat closet. What you didn't notice was the way Javier's eyes greedily locked onto the fabric while you moved around the room.

"Uh..." he murmured, his pulse quickening when he saw the plunging neckline of your dress. "That new?"

You furrowed your brow and turned around. "Yeah. I didn't exactly have anything suitable so I went shopping. Why? You don't like it?"

"No, no... it's perfect," he assured you. Javier blinked a few times, snapping himself out of it, and looked at you. "Very... festive."

You grinned and hung up the dress on the back of the bathroom door. "Thanks. I thought so, too. So... the party? What time?"

"Oh, right. Cocktail hour starts at five, dinner's at seven then dancing or whatever til who knows when."

You glanced at your watch and made a face after you did a quick pass with the iron.

"I better get in the shower, then," you said, grabbing your things. Javier leaned back onto the headboard and flicked on the television with the ease of a man who didn't intend on putting in much work on his appearance for evening. However, once you finished your hair and makeup and stepped out of the bathroom in that damn dress, he suddenly felt like he should have tried a little harder.

"Maybe I should put something in my hair," he muttered, his fingers flicking through the dark locks as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. You appeared in the doorway of the bathroom looking way too fucking attractive to be his date, let alone masquerading as his girlfriend. Your brows pinched together as you looked at his hair and it took every last ounce of willpower not to let his eyes fall to your cleavage in that tight dress.

"I think your hair looks good," you said. When you reached up to fix a stray piece of his hair, he cleared his throat and twisted away.

"Alright, let's get this thing over with," he mumbled as he slid past you and headed towards the door.

"What's got you so grumpy?"

"Nothing. Just need a drink and a smoke."

"You're gonna abandon me with a bunch of DEA agents to go smoke for ten minutes?" you whined, following him out of your hotel room towards the elevators.

"You could always join me. You'd look like Bette Davis smoking a cigarette and wearing that dress," he replied when you both stepped inside the elevator. He tapped the lobby button and grinned down at you.

"You and Bette Davis," you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"What? She made smoking look so damn cool."

"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to pass," you told him. "I'll get a drink and mingle. Maybe find one of the girls you pissed off and have a cat fight."

Javi chuckled and shook his head. "That's a long list, baby. Shouldn't be too hard."

When the elevator doors slid open, you could hear the music thumping from the ballroom and laughter echoing off the walls.

"Sounds like they didn't waste any time," you said to Javier.

"Are you kidding? When the government gives you an open bar, you fucking milk it," he replied before taking one step towards the front doors. "You sure you're good for a few?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," you said, waving him off. He nodded and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Before he even made it to the door, he slipped one in between his lips.

The ballroom was pretty full already, Javi was right: when government employees have a chance to let loose, they jump at the opportunity. The entire room was decorated in Christmas lights, garland, and at least five different trees. The DJ was cycling through a mix of Christmas carols, pop music, and classic rock. Some people already shaking their hips on the dance floor with drinks in their hands. You spotted two different bars set up, so you made your way to the nearest one and ordered a white wine. As you waited, you bopped your head along to the beat of Last Christmas while mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

"Jack Daniels, neat," a man's deep voice said from beside you when the bartender placed your wine glass on a coaster. You thanked him and slid a few dollars across the bar before taking a sip.

"Excuse me... have we met?"

You turned to look at your neighbor and slowly shook your head. He was cute. Blonde hair parted to one side, mustache, lean but strong physique and sparkling blue eyes.

"No, we haven't," you said before offering your hand and name.

"Steve," he grinned, giving your hand a firm shake before accepting his drink with a nod and a couple bucks in the tip jar. "What department do you work in?"

"Oh, I don't work for the DEA, I'm here with someone," you said, leaning closer. You watched his face fall when you implied you weren't single and you pursed your lips. How the hell would Javi expect you to meet anyone when you had to pretend to be his girlfriend?

"I mean, just a friend. A good friend," you added, praying you didn't blow Javi's cover the first time you opened your mouth. "Uh, what do you do?"

"I'm an agent," he told you, chest puffing with pride. "Takin' down drug rings one scumbag at a time."

"Wow. That's so impressive," you gushed. You saw the way his cheeks flushed a bit and preened when he glanced down at your chest. "That must be so hard. What's your favorite part about the job?"

"Goin' to the Christmas party and meeting beautiful women like you," he shot back smoothly, making you giggle and toss your hair flirtatiously over your shoulder. Steve's gaze dragged up and down your dress appreciatively before adding, "I mean it. You look stunning. Should've known someone like you didn't work for the DEA."

"Oh, stop," you giggled, feeling your face warm from his compliment.

"Where are you sitting? Maybe I can convince you to dance after dinner? Now fair warning, I got two left feet, but I got a feeling no one's gonna be lookin' at me," Steve grinned, taking a step closer and grazing his thumb along your bare arm.

"Hmm, that sounds-"

"Murphy."

You both twisted around to find Javier storming across the room. And storming was really the only word for it. His fists were clenched and his jaw pulled tight like he was about to take a swing at Steve.

"Javi," you greeted him sweetly with a smile. At the same time, Steve said, "Peña."

"What's going on here?" he asked, sidling up so he could wedge himself between you and Steve.

"Nothing. Steve and I were just talking," you said innocently.

"Looked like more than that," Javier huffed. His tone and the serious look on his face made you falter. Did you do something wrong?

"Well-"

"I was just asking her for a dance after dinner. Relax, Jav," Steve joked with a playful punch to his shoulder. When Javi remained stoic and unmoving at your side, the smile slowly slipped from Steve's face.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought you were just friends."

"We are," you said quickly, but Steve was already backing away.

"Enjoy your night! It was lovely to meet you," Steve said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd. You swiveled on your heel to glare at Javi.

"Why didn't you correct him?" you seethed.

Javi just shrugged, his relaxed demeanor slipping back in place, and leaned up against the bar to flag down a bartender. "You can do better than Steve."

"Who are you to say?" you argued back after he ordered a whiskey. "We were clicking! And he's cute, why-"

"'Cause I don't want you fucking my partner, hermosa, that's why," Javi snapped. Your eyes widened and you clamped your mouth shut for a moment.

"He's your partner? Why didn't you ever introduce us before? He's-"

"C'mon, let's go find the appetizers or something," he said after snatching his glass from the bar top. It was very evident you wouldn't be getting any more information out of Javier so you decided to drop the subject. But as the happy hour inched along with your third drink in your hand and Javi's arm finding a permanent home around your waist as he introduced you to his coworkers, your mind kept drifting back to that hardened look he had given you and Steve. The butterflies in your stomach churned to life every time you thought about it, your memory twisting things so you could pretend he was jealous over you flirting with another man. It wasn't that hard to imagine, really. He could hardly keep himself from touching either your waist or lower back or grabbing your hand. It fed the little fantasy in your head, deluding yourself into thinking he was subtly trying to claim you in front of the whole party, warning others to stay away.

You had given up reminding yourself that the fake relationship schtick was just an act by the end of dinner. It was too nice to pretend otherwise.

Javi had been wrapped up in a long winded conversation with the man seated on the other side of him, but your heart was fluttering the whole time because from the moment he set his silverware down, his hand hadn't once left your leg.

With a dreamy smile plastered across your face, your eyes casually drifted around the room. People were already beginning to dance but many still remained at their dinner tables chatting. You had been quietly admiring the artwork on the walls and sipping from your glass when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It was hard to explain, but you just felt like someone was staring at you. Doing your best to be subtle, you shifted in your seat and let your gaze wander around the room again until you found the source.

There was a table to your left, half of which was empty, but five young women remained staring in your direction. Some had drinks dangling from their fingers, one had a scowl and another was leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

There was no question one of the girls must have been one of Javi's scorned lovers. If not all of them. Your heart sunk a little when you saw how beautiful they were and you forced yourself to look away.

Javier was handsome, he had charm, and he was funny. A lethal combination that managed to get him in bed with some extremely drop dead gorgeous women. It was then you felt your insecurities flare up. How could anyone buy you were a couple when he was used to having girls like that on his arm?

With Javier still talking, you stood up from your chair, suddenly feeling flustered and overwhelmed.

He stopped speaking mid sentence to look up and ask, "Where are you going?"

"Uh," you glanced around and swallowed nervously. "I think I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you," he said, immediately standing. "I'll catch up with you later, Jim," Javi added over his shoulder before hurrying to catch up with you. When his palm pressed against your back, your feet automatically slowed.

"What's going on? Drink too much?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't know," you rambled, eyes scanning for the exit. "I just feel like I don't fit in here."

"What? Why?" he asked, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. His face was filled with concern as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You're doing great, cariño. I thought you were having fun."

"I was. I am," you stammered, and then your gaze landed on the table of girls, most of which had moved on to something else.

Before you could tear your eyes away, Javier noticed where you were looking and sighed.

"Yeah, sorry. I told you, I pissed off a woman or two here."

"It's not that," you mumbled, now staring down at the floor.

"Then what is it?"

You felt your cheeks flush and you couldn't look him in the eye when you finally admitted, "They're really pretty, Javi."

He just scoffed and took your hand in his.

"You're prettier."

You laughed lightly and shook your head. "Yeah, right. It's a good thing there's an open bar. Otherwise, I'm not sure people would believe we're together when you're usually seen with girls like that."

"Hey," Javi said softly. He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted it up so you would look at him. "Don't say that. You look better than anyone else here. If you weren't already, I'd be trying to get you up to my room right now," he said with a smirk. You giggled a little and sighed.

"Sorry. I guess I just had a moment or something," you said, breathing deep. Javi looked around the room and noticed how the dance floor was beginning to fill up.

"Wanna dance?"

You smiled and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you watched others having fun on the dance floor. Without waiting for your answer, Javi tugged your hand and tilted his head, urging you to follow him. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging."

You laughed and let him lead you to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of people until he found a little wiggle room, but right when he turned back to look at you with a big, goofy smile, the fast tempo switched to a much slower ballad. Javi cocked an eyebrow at you and extended a hand, unphased.

With a smile of your own, you took his hand and let him pull you in close. His fingers laced together with yours while his other arm wrapped around your middle and your free hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Hey, you can dance," he teased when you fell into rhythm with him effortlessly.

"Of course I can dance," you said, rolling your eyes. Being that close to him, you could smell his aftershave, the whiskey on his breath, and a faint hint of cigarette smoke from earlier. The smell you had unknowingly grown to love. The smell that was, simply put, Javier.

You gazed up at him, smiling at the little pink tinting his cheeks and the glassy look in his eye. He looked so fucking adorable it almost pained you.

"Can I ask you something, Javi?" you asked quietly. His eyes softened at your tone and he nodded. "Why were you so mad earlier when I was talking to Steve? Really?"

The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flickered somewhere behind you as he considered his answer.

"I think you know why."

When he looked back down at you, the playfulness was gone. His eyes carried something else in them. Something he couldn't bring himself to say. Then your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat when you saw it. The look you had been aching to see from him for years. The same look you were giving him at the very same time.

And then it hit you. Yeah, you knew why.

It turned out Javier was much more popular at work than you ever expected. You had spent the rest of your dance trying to come up with the right thing to say, but you panicked and lost your chance when Javier's boss nudged his shoulder while dancing with his wife. The four of you fell into a conversation - the men about work, you and his boss's wife about Christmas bargains - in the middle of the dance floor. When you realized you were in the way, the conversation moved to the bar. After that, an investigator joined in the conversation with her girlfriend and before you knew it, it was nearly midnight and the moment you had with Javi on the dance floor was long forgotten.

Or so you thought.

It had been a long night. You were exhausted and your feet ached from the new shoes you picked out to match your dress. You had hoped to possibly find an opening and talk to Javi about what you thought he implied during your dance, but while you were waiting for him to wash up, you passed out cold.

One thing you knew for certain was you were on your side of the bed when you fell asleep. You knew that because your side faced the bathroom and you had rolled over to wait for Javi before you fell asleep. However, you couldn't explain why you woke up around three in the morning with your cheek resting on his shoulder and your arm wrapped around his waist.

Well, maybe you could explain it. It was probably your subconscious trying to seek him out after spending the evening being so close to him. No matter the reason, you knew you had to sneak back to your side of the bed before he woke up, so you slowly began to extract your arm.

"Where're you goin'?" Javi murmured sleepily. Your eyes widened and your heart began to race.

"Nowhere, just go back to sleep," you whispered, pulling your arm away. Just as you were about to roll over, Javi's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You froze, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, and slowly lifted your eyes up to meet his.

It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, he was wide awake. His dark brown eyes continued to study your face while you fumbled for words.

"Javi?" you said, voice sounding so small in the quiet room. His eyes flickered anxiously between yours for another moment before he came to his decision. In one quick movement, he had rolled you onto your back, his hips fitting perfectly between your legs as he caged you in.

"Javi," you said again, although this time sounding far more breathless and aroused than you intended.

He swallowed tightly, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips before he whispered, "Do you feel it too, cariño?"

You shifted underneath him, eyelids fluttering when you felt his arousal pressing up against the inside of your thigh.

"Yes," you whispered back.

His mouth crashed against yours in an instant. It was rougher than you expected it to be but you didn't mind. You understood because you felt it, too. All that time wasted, dancing around something that was right in front of you the entire time. It was bound to drive anyone a little crazy, a little hungry.

Before you knew it, your fingers were in his hair, dragging down his shoulders, and then tugging at his shirt, and all the while his mouth remained cemented against yours. He had to pull away to yank his white tshirt over his head and you heard yourself make a pathetic little noise, like you couldn't possibly survive without his kiss, not even for one second.

"Take this off," he panted, lifting your oversized shirt halfway up your torso. You didn't need to be told twice. You flung it off and pulled Javier back down before he even had a chance to take a good look at your bare chest.

Everything was moving so fast but given the amount of time it took you to get there, it felt like a fucking eternity. He expertly tugged your shorts and underwear off while your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. It wasn't even until you felt his fingers brush against your cunt that you realized you were entirely undressed.

"Oh, god... Javi!" you cried out brokenly when he slipped two fingers inside of you.

His mouth fell to your chin and he made a strangled sound, curling his fingers when he said, "Fuck, baby, when you say my name like that..."

His hand maintained a steady rhythm between your legs, reaching for that spot that made your back curl off the bed every time he thrusted inside. His other hand got lost in your hair, tipping your face so he could feverishly lock his lips with yours while dragging your first orgasm to the surface with a few circles over your sensitive clit.

"Javi! Wait... I'm gonna - I'm gonna come -" you gasped, unable to stop your hips from rolling up and meeting his hand.

"Go ahead, hermosa. I got you."

"No," you whimpered, muscles going tense. You were getting to the point of no return and you needed to stop him. "I wanna - I want you to fuck me, Javi. I - I wanna -"

Your head fell back into the pillow, unable to complete your sentence.

"I am. I'm gonna fuck you," he assured you, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and wrist snapping faster between your thighs. "I'll make you come on my cock, don't worry, baby. Just let go, c'mon, you can do that for me, right?"

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, fuck, fu- yes, Javi, yes! More... please-"

"Christ, cariño, you're gonna wake the whole fucking hotel," he chuckled, but you were too far gone to care. You tilted your chin to the ceiling, his name echoing off the walls as you came. It felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest, like your legs were so weak you may never walk again, yet somehow it wasn't enough. Not for either of you. In fact, it only seemed to make you each more desperate.

Your kisses on his skin became messy, both of you so eager to have the other that there was no room to worry about being too fast or abrasive. Your teeth clashed together when your arm curved around his neck, yanking him down to your level. Your shared hot breaths mingled with each pant and gasp. When you reached down to wrap your fingers around the heavy weight of his cock, he moaned into your open mouth and slid his fingers from your pussy so you could line him up with your entrance, neither of you in any mood to wait a second longer.

"Fu-uck," he groaned when he pushed inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one go. You gasped and sharply bit down on his shoulder when tears sprung up and threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"You okay?" he panted, planting weak kisses against the side of your face. All you could do was nod. He filled you and stretched you so perfectly that it took your breath away and left you speechless. He nodded, too, lips parted as he puffed for air, then began to rock his hips. Slow at first, then steady and deep.

"Javi," you moaned in his ear, sending a shiver through his body. "Shit, just like that. Oh my god, Javi, just like that!"

Javier smirked into your shoulder, fucking you with deep, long strokes as you continued to fill the room with your cries and moans.

"Never thought you'd be so goddamn loud, baby," he teased, nipping playfully at your shoulder.

"Sorry," you whined into the air. Your jaw was clenched tight, fingers clawing uselessly at his broad shoulders while he continued to pump in and out a little bit harder, a little bit faster, setting loose one of the tears that welled up in your eyes.

"Don't be sorry, I fucking love it," he groaned. He lifted himself up so he could watch your face contort with each devastating thrust. "Fucking love how you say my name. Dreamed about it for so long, you have no idea-"

"Me, too," you moaned, a second tear trickling down your cheek. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he began to fuck you faster. His eyes flickered down to your bare chest, breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts. Craning his neck down, he latched onto one with a groan, teeth grazing enticingly over your nipple before sucking the other one into his mouth.

"God, you're so perfect," he mumbled into the space between your breasts. "So fucking perfect, hermosa. Drove me fucking crazy all night."

Your heart stuttered before grabbing the sides of his head and pulling him up for a deep kiss. Every time he slammed inside of you, it had you seeing stars. You felt completely at his mercy, unable to think about anything else except him, him, him.

"Tell me you want more," he demanded, pulling away from your kiss so he could look you in the eye. His eyes were blown wide with lust and a few dark hairs were beginning to stick to his forehead, the image so captivating that he had you nodding dumbly to his request.

"Yes, Javi, please," you moaned, "more, please, fuck me-"

"No, I mean-"

His hips slowed and he cupped your face, chest heaving and lips parted for air as he stared down at you imploringly. "I mean, tell me you want more than just tonight. Tell me there's something else here."

You blinked rapidly and nodded, stunned he would even have to ask when you had always been the one to prefer relationships. Hardly trusting yourself to speak, you whispered, "Yeah. I want more than just tonight. I want more than just this."

A smile stretched across his face right before he lunged down to capture your lips with his own. His hips resumed their pace, snapping steadily into you and pushing you higher and higher until you stiffened and cried out his name.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit," he muttered, hips stuttering against you, his name still tumbling from your mouth as the last of your orgasm rippled through your body. "Baby - look at me," he begged, and it wasn't until that moment you realized your eyelids had even shut.

Tiredly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. The way he was looking at you caused a lump to form in your throat and you had to suppress a shiver. It was too intense all of the sudden, the air thickening between you in a matter of seconds.

"Come for me, Javi," you murmured lowly. You brought a shaky hand up to card through his damp hair, watching as his eyebrows pinched and his chin dropped, pulling out of you quickly and sitting back on his heels to fist his cock. Your hand fell back to the cool sheets beside you, unable to look away. He was hunched above you, one fist pressed into the mattress and the other jerking himself off until he stilled with a deep groan, painting your stomach with his sticky release. You couldn't even let yourself blink, doing your best to commit every detail to memory until he collapsed next to you with a heavy sigh.

"Fucking Christ," he grumbled, forearm tossed over his eyes. You giggled, face warming when you heard how raspy you sounded. Javier removed his arm and turned his head to look at you with a lopsided grin.

"You're a screamer, hermosa."

"Javi!" you cried out softly, but your broken voice only further proved his argument. He chuckled and rolled onto his side to push some hair away from your eyes.

"I was expecting a phone call from the front desk ten minutes ago."

"Shut up, Javi!" you whined, covering your face with your palms.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby, I love it," he said while pulling your hands away. You bit your lip and peered up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret and finding none. Then his face softened and he swallowed nervously before adding, "I'm in love with you."

He said it so quietly, so sweetly, that it had you wondering if you were hearing things. But then you saw the anxious look in his eye and your pulse skyrocketed.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah. I think I've been in love with you for a while," he admitted, tracing an invisible line down your cheek.

You laughed and two fresh tears fell when you said, "I love you, too."

His mouth crashed against yours in relief and you wrapped your arms around his neck, matching smiles pressing together in stunned happiness.

"I'm sorry I wasted so much time and didn't tell you sooner," he murmured while stroking your hair.

"It doesn't matter," you replied, "we have each other now."

Javi smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

"So, now what?" he asked.

"Now? Now I would really like to take a shower," you said, then grinned when you added, "and maybe in the morning we can do this all over again."

He laughed and rolled to his side so you could get out of bed. When his eyes locked onto your ass as you made your way to the bathroom in the dark, he flung the covers off and leapt out of bed to follow you.

"I think we're gonna need a late check out."

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hoshifighting · 3 months ago

Note

Two words. Dilf Cheol. (I am on the brink of insanity thank yewww)

dilf!seungcheol

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crying, marriage, his kid loves u, shy dilf!seungcheol at the beginning.

oh man, dilf!seungcheol though? i think about it every single day, i swear. and yeah, it all starts with that awkward-ass moment at the café. he’s standing there all buff and shy, trying to work up the nerve to ask for your number, his daughter hanging onto his leg like she’s his bodyguard. her big, curious eyes peeking out at you while he stumbles over his words. “uh… I just… I thought maybe you’d… uh,” seungcheol scratches the back of his neck, all nervous—like he isn’t the size of a tank. “you know, if you’re not busy… you could give me your insta?” he’s waiting for you to laugh at him, probably thinks he’s gonna get rejected because, you know, he’s got a kid and all. like that makes him less attractive or something. but you’re all heart-eyes the second his little girl pipes up with, “daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

dude nearly dies on the spot. he’s so red, you could probably cook an egg on his cheeks. but you just crouch down to her level, giving her the same sweet smile you flashed at the waitress earlier, and say, “well, I think your dad’s really handsome, too.”

game over. you’ve got him hooked, right there.

from then on, you’re texting nonstop. it’s almost like a high school crush thing, except the guy’s a full-grown dad who still somehow makes your stomach flip like you’re sixteen again. his insta’s basically a whole love letter to his daughter, like, every other post is her: her in some princess costume, her making pancakes (or trying to), her at the park with him, her with his dog. sometimes, you’ll scroll through his feed just to see him smile because, damn, it’s so rare he smiles like that anywhere else.

but then there’s the gym photos. god, those gym photos. all sweaty and pumped up, and you swear he’s showing off just a bit for you now that he knows you’re watching. his arms look like they could crush you, but the way he talks? it’s like he’s this big ol’ teddy bear wrapped in all that muscle.

“you eat today?” he texts you at like, 2 p.m., no greeting or anything.

you text back, “noo :(( too busy.”

not even a minute later, you get a notification from some food delivery app—he’s already sent something to your place. he’s like that. doesn’t even ask, just takes care of it. if it’s cold out, he’s dropping off a coat. if it rains, a brand new umbrella’s somehow at your work's door.

one night, you're scrolling through insta, and there’s this photo of him at some fancy work event, all dressed up in a suit and tie. goddamn, you think, biting your lip, because who knew seungcheol could clean up like that? the suit hugs every muscle, and it’s wild how he can look that good in anything from sweats to formalwear. you double-tap, and not two minutes later, he’s texting you.

“you like that one?”

you don’t even bother playing coy. “nah, I loved that one.”

there’s a pause, and you can almost picture him blushing on the other end, even though you’re the one getting all flustered.

“well, maybe you’ll get to see it in person soon,” he shoots back, and there’s a teasing edge to it, the same one that’s been driving you absolutely crazy since you started talking.

you roll your eyes, but your heart’s doing that dumb fluttery thing again. “maybe,” you reply, playing along.

and it’s like, you’re not even sure how this all happened so fast, but seungcheol? he’s always making sure you’re good, like his whole day revolves around making you smile, checking in, making sure you're eating, keeping warm. it’s low-key intense but in the best way possible.

and somehow, between all the little text convos and the insta stalking, you’ve found yourself seriously catching feelings for this dad with the cutest kid, the sweetest heart, and a whole-ass gym routine that’s absolutely unfair.

and you wonder: how the hell did you get this lucky?

seungcheol's always been like that—taking care of you like it’s second nature, probably because he’s used to being in dad-mode 24/7. you kinda feel spoiled, in the best way possible. he’s always looking out for you. it’s not that he’s overbearing; it’s just that this is how he shows he cares. but you know it goes both ways.

so one day, you decide to return the favor. you find this pink polo, something that screams him but in the softest, most endearing way. you know his daughter will love it too, ‘cause she’s all about pink and matching with her dad. you send it to him without saying much, just a little note saying, “thought this would look good on you.” the next time you see him, he's wearing it, and yeah, the shirt hugs his body perfectly. he’s acting like it’s no big deal, but you catch the way he blushes when you compliment him. “didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, but his eyes are softer than usual, that little glint of he’s falling harder than he planned.

but what really seals the deal is how u handle his daughter. every time you two try to plan a date, something comes up—his mom’s busy, or the babysitter falls through, and suddenly, the whole night’s flipped. instead of a fancy dinner, you’re headed to the park or some kid-friendly café, making sure his little girl has fun. and somehow, you end up having more fun on those “ruined” dates, watching seungcheol let loose, running around with his kid while you cheer them on. it’s like you get him, get his life, and he’s not used to that.

and then, finally, one night, the stars align. his mom takes the kid for the weekend, and it’s just you and him. alone.

and oh god, does he reward you.

he’s been holding back for weeks—months even. all that pent-up frustration, that tension from constantly having to play the responsible dad while trying to not let himself get too attached to you, it all comes crashing down.

he’s rough, no question about it. but it’s the kind of rough that makes your whole body sing. his hands are everywhere, grabbing, holding, pressing you up against walls and furniture like he’s desperate to feel every inch of you at once. he’s strong, and he knows it, lifting you like you weigh nothing, carrying you from one spot to the next without breaking a sweat.

the first time, it’s almost frantic. he’s pounding into you like he’s afraid the moment’s gonna slip through his fingers, grunting into your ear, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. your legs wrap around him, but you can hardly hold on—he’s relentless, hitting that spot over and over until you’re crying out, body shaking violently.

you don’t even realize your legs are spasming until hours later, when you try to stand and nearly collapse from how shaky you are. but seungcheol’s not done. oh no. he’s far from done.

before you can even catch your breath, he’s down between your legs, eating you out like a man famished. this time, it’s slower his tongue doing things that make you arch off the bed, hands fisting in his hair as he drags you to the edge again, then pulls you back just to do it all over. every time you think you’re about to lose it, he eases up, grinning against your skin like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

and yeah, maybe it’s been ages for him, but fuck, the man knows how to destroy you. by the time he’s done, you’re a complete mess, legs trembling, heart flying from your chest, your body so sensitive that even the thought of him touching you again makes you shudder.

seungcheol though, he’s the type to take his time. slow and unshakable, like he’s gotta be absolutely sure before he makes any big moves. but with you? he’s struggling. there’s this itch under his skin, this need to lock it down, put a ring on your finger, make it official. and yeah, he’d never say it out loud, not yet. he’s got too much pride to come off that desperate. but every time he watches you with his daughter, every time she calls you her “best friend” or shows you the drawing she made of you three as a family, he’s fighting the urge to drop down on one knee and ask you to make it real.

he hides it well, though, keeps up the usual routine. he keeps taking you out on dates, some with his little girl tagging along, others just the two of you. and he’s always scolding you whenever you show up with yet another gift for her.

“y/n, you’ve gotta stop,” he groans, shaking his head as you hand his daughter a set of pink hair clips that match her favorite doll. “she’s gonna expect something every week at this point.”

but there’s that soft look in his eyes, the one that betrays how much he loves seeing you spoil his kid. he’ll roll his eyes, but you notice how he always says “my girls” now, so casually like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you and her. his girls.

one day, he takes you to her father’s day presentation at school. you’re not sure who’s more nervous, seungcheol or his daughter. but when she walks on stage in her tiny tutu, all giggles and shy smiles, it’s seungcheol who completely loses it. you’re sitting beside him, watching him tear up before she’s even started dancing. by the time the performance is over, he’s full-on crying, holding his face in his hands as you rub his back, trying to calm him down.

“it’s just… she’s growing up so fast,” he sniffs, looking up at you with watery eyes, completely unashamed of the tears streaming down his face. and you can’t help but love him more for it, for how much he loves his daughter, for how raw and real he is when it comes to her.

your intimate life? that’s been steady too, despite how busy things get. with a kid around, it’s not always easy to find the time, but seungcheol makes sure you’re never left wanting. there are the quickies, yeah, when his daughter’s asleep and you’ve got the living room to yourselves, stealing a heated make-out session that somehow ends up with your back pressed against the couch cushions, his hands roaming under your clothes while he kisses you senseless.

but if things get too feral, you two will sneak off to the laundry room or the closet, anywhere you can get a little privacy. he’s fast, efficient, but still so thorough, making sure you’re fully satisfied every single time. it’s like, no matter how quick things have to be, he’s always got this laser focus on making you feel good.

but even with all the passion, he’s still got that soft side. sometimes, it’s just enough to make out on the couch, your lips swollen from kissing, the weight of him pressed against you. and in those moments, there’s this quiet comprehension between you two. you don’t need the sex to feel connected—sometimes, just being close is enough.

but it’s getting harder for him to hold back. every time he sees you playing with his daughter, every time she asks if you’re coming over for dinner, he feels it. that pull. that urge to make you his. and one night, after his daughter’s fallen asleep and the two of you are tangled up on the couch, catching your breath after another one of those wild, stolen moments, he looks at you, really looks at you, and the words just fall out of his mouth.

“marry me.”

it’s not planned, not rehearsed. hell, he hadn’t even thought about it until the moment the words slipped out. but once they’re out there, he realizes he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. his hand tightens around yours, and he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, like he’s already bracing himself for the answer.

and all you can think is, finally.

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lizardho · 3 months ago

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I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

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