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rafey-baby · 2 months ago

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clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

18+ mdni!

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head.

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists.

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with.

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms.

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him.

“You, uh, you got one?”

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion.

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives.

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class.

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff.

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words.

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes.

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can.

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.

Her head is spinning.

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

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hoshifighting · 5 months ago

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jealous!wonwoo

— synopsis: wonwoo brings you to his friend's birthday party to finally introduce you to his friends for the first time. however, your kindness is having an unexpected effect on him.

— WARNINGS: smut, jealousy, possessiveness, slut shamming, penetrative sex, rough sex, creampie, mentions of blood, cum, a lot of dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, jealous!wonwoo, kind!reader.

it's changkyun's birthday, and you stand in the midst of it all, your fingers tracing the rim of a cold drink, feeling a little out of place but excited nonetheless. it's your first time meeting wonwoo's friends, and he's been talking about them for weeks, making you feel like you've already known them forever. he was thrilled to finally introduce you, the person who’s captured his heart, to the people closest to him.

wonwoo’s been glued to your side all night, smiling proudly as he watches you effortlessly charm everyone around. he loves how gentle you are, how kind, and he was confident you'd get along with everyone. that’s why he fell for you—because you make things easy, even the hard stuff. but now, as he stands talking to jihoon, something feels off. he can’t quite pinpoint when it started, but a weird knot's been forming in his stomach.

“so, y/n,” changkyun grins, rolling up his sleeve to show off a fresh tattoo on his forearm. “what do you think? it's still healing, but i think it turned out pretty dope.”

you lean in closer, eyes widening in appreciation. “oh wow, that's amazing! i've been thinking about getting one for ages but never had the guts to go through with it. you must have a high pain tolerance,” you laugh, lightly brushing his arm with your fingers.

wonwoo’s eyes flicker over to you, catching that moment. something about the way you’re leaning into changkyun’s space, the genuine interest in your voice—it rubs him the wrong way.

he tries to focus on jihoon’s story about a songwriting mishap, but all he hears is the distant hum of voices. he can't help but feel a pang of something—jealousy? possessiveness?—as he watches you interact so easily with his friends, especially changkyun.

“yeah, it hurt like hell, but it was worth it,” changkyun chuckles, glancing over at you. “maybe you should get one too, then we could be tattoo buddies. what do you say?”

you laugh, a warm sound that feels like home to wonwoo, but now it’s mixed with an unfamiliar sensation. “maybe i will,” you say playfully.

wonwoo feels a strange twist in his chest, like something fragile and delicate is being tugged at. he knows you’re just being your usual sweet self, but seeing you get along so well with changkyun, someone he’s always been close to, brings out a protective side he didn't know he had. he doesn’t like this feeling—this weird, prickly sensation crawling up his spine. it’s not like him to feel insecure, especially around his friends.

he tries to shake it off, but it's like an itch he can't scratch. “hey, y/n,” he calls out, trying to keep his tone light, “come over here for a sec. i wanna introduce you to jihoon properly.”

you turn towards wonwoo, catching a glimpse of the slight tension in his eyes. you can sense something’s off, but you don't want to make a scene, especially not tonight.

you nod and give changkyun a quick smile. “sure, be right back,” you say, walking over to wonwoo and jihoon.

“everything okay?” you ask quietly, searching his face for a clue.

wonwoo smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “yeah, just wanted to make sure you were having fun. it’s a lot, meeting everyone at once.”

it doesn't take much for wonwoo to feel uncomfortable again. even as you chat with jihoon, he can't help but feel a flicker of unease. jihoon's quiet personality, paired with your genuine curiosity, makes wonwoo's insides twist.

he knows you're just being gentle, like always, but that's the thing—everyone likes it. not just him. and that thought gnaws at him, despite knowing it's irrational.

he tries to brush it off, but the more he watches, the tighter the knot in his chest becomes. the final straw comes when jihoon leans in closer, discussing something that makes you laugh, your eyes crinkling at the corners. without thinking, wonwoo excuses himself and heads straight for you, an unfamiliar urgency in his step.

“hey, can we talk for a sec?” his voice is calm, but there's an edge to it you can't quite place.

you glance at him, noting the tension in his posture. “sure,” you reply, excusing yourself from jihoon with a polite smile. wonwoo leads you to a quiet corner of the room, away from the prying eyes of his friends.

“what’s up?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light, but the atmosphere feels heavy.

“let's go home,” he says, avoiding your gaze. the abruptness of his request catches you off guard.

“home? already?” you echo, genuinely surprised. “but it's still early, and we haven't even had cake yet.”

wonwoo shrugs, his expression unreadable. “i just... i think we've been here long enough.”

you can sense something's off, but he's not giving anything away. it feels strange, leaving the party so soon, especially when everyone seemed to be having a good time.

and while he tries to mask it, you can read him like a book. deep down, you know he's somehow mad.

the car ride home is silent, tension thick in the air. you try to ask him what's bothering him, but he brushes it off, offering vague reassurances that everything's fine. it's frustrating, his refusal to communicate, and you decide to push him—just to see how far he'll go, denying what's clearly eating at him.

once you both arrive home, you kick off your shoes and head straight for the bedroom, ignoring his attempts to engage in conversation. his eyes follow you, growing more intense with every step you take away from him.

the silent treatment is intended, a way to force him to confront whatever he's hiding. wonwoo stands in the doorway, watching as you busy yourself with trivial tasks—checking your phone, removing your jewelry. the longer you ignore him, the more palpable his anger becomes.

“y/n, can we talk?” his voice is low, barely containing his frustration.

you continue to avoid his gaze, feigning interest in your phone. “about what?” you ask, your tone almost dismissive.

that’s all it takes.

something in wonwoo snaps, the last remnants of his patience fraying. in two quick strides, he's in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you close. the sudden movement startles you, and you drop your phone, eyes widening in surprise. his grip is firm, not painful, but enough to let you know he's serious.

“stop it,” he growls, his voice laced with an unfamiliar edge. “stop pretending like you don't know what's going on.”

you blink up at him, “i don't know what you're talking about,” you say, but the slight quiver in your voice betrays you.

wonwoo's eyes darken, a dangerous glint flashing in them. “don't play dumb, y/n. you've been doing this all night—flirting with my friends, acting like it's nothing.”

your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by his accusation. “i wasn't flirting,” you protest, but the words feel weak, even to you.

“oh, please,” he scoffs, his grip tightening slightly. “don't give me that innocent act. you know exactly what you were doing, batting those pretty eyes, laughing at their jokes. you loved the attention, didn't you?”

you feel a flush of anger rise in your chest, but before you can retort, he pulls you even closer, his breath hot against your ear. “you're such a fucking slut,” he whispers, the words dripping with venom. “enjoying every second of it, making me look like a fool.”

his jealousy, his possessiveness, it's intoxicating in a way you can't quite understand. and he knows it too, sees the way your breath hitches, the way your body reacts to his words.

“is this what you wanted?” he hisses, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers digging into your waist. “to push me until i snapped? well, congratulations, baby, you got your wish.”

before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, rough and demanding. it's not a kiss; it's a claiming, a punishment. he kisses you like he wants to devour you, like he's angry with himself for wanting you this much. you kiss him back with equal fervor, matching his aggression with your own, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. he groans, the sound vibrating against your mouth, and you feel a surge of satisfaction.

with a growl, he pushes you against the wall, hands roaming over your body with a frantic urgency. he tugs at your clothes, tearing them off in his haste, not caring if he rips fabric or skin. there's no time for tenderness, no room for gentle caresses.

as his fingers slip beneath your shirt, they pause, feeling the delicate texture of lace and satin. his breath hitches when he discovers the coquette lingerie you’re wearing, complete with tiny bows adorning the bra and panties. you can almost hear his thoughts—did you wear this just to tease him?

he yanks down the waistband of your panties, revealing more bows trailing down the sides.

the sight of you, so perfectly dressed to seduce, makes him want to tear everything off and claim you right there and then.

he grabs your hips, his grip firm and commanding, and without another word, he pushes you harder against the wall, positioning himself behind you. the soft, feminine bows are the last thing on his mind as he enters you without warning, rough and rigid.

you cry out, the sensation heightened by the feeling of the lingerie still partially clinging to your body. the combination of pain making your knees to buckle, and he doesn't give you time to adjust.

“you think this is funny?” he hisses in your ear, his voice dangerous. “teasing me like this, showing off like some kind of slut?”

he doesn't give you time to adjust, thrusting into you with a punishing rhythm, his hands digging into your flesh. “this is what you wanted, right?” he grits out, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear. “to be fucked like the slut you are?”

you moan, the sound echoing in the room. he pulls your hair, forcing your head back as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. it's brutal, almost savage, and yet you can't get enough. you revel in the way he takes you, the way he owns you, body and soul.

“god, you're so fucking tight,” he groans. “so wet for me, like you were just waiting for this.”

you bite your lip, trying to stifle your moans, but he notices. he always does. with a snarl, he reaches around and grabs your chin, forcing you to face him. “don't hold back, i want to hear you. i want everyone to know how much you love this.”

you can't hold back anymore. the intensity of his thrusts, the harshness of his words, it's all too much. you cry out, your voice raw and desperate, echoing off the walls.

“w-woo,” you sob, your voice shaky and breathless.

every thrust feels like it's tearing you apart, and the sensation of his big cock stretching you is overwhelming. he growls at the sound of his name, making you feel like you're teetering on the edge of something explosive.

wonwoo’s hand slides down your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your underbelly with a teasing slowness that contrasts with the brutal pace of his hips. he knows exactly what he's doing, savoring every second of your desperate whimpers.

his hand dips lower, and when he finds your clit, he circles it with rough, intentional movements that make your whole body jolt. the pleasure is electric, a stark contrast to the roughness of his thrusts, and it sends you spiraling.

“getting fucked like a little slut, all dressed up in this cute lingerie just for me.”

you can only moan in response, your mind too clouded with pleasure to form coherent words. his fingers work your clit with a ruthless accuracy, driving you closer and closer to the edge. every flick of his wrist sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, and you can feel the tight coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.

“such a greedy little thing,” he continues, his voice a low, rumbling purr. “clenching around my cock like you want me to fill you up, huh? you want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?”

his cock feels impossibly big, almost splitting you in half, and you can’t help the way your body responds, muscles clenching and pulling him deeper. it’s too much, and yet not enough, every thrust bringing you closer to the brink of thoughtlessness.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice strained with effort. “gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that.”

the knot in your belly twists tighter, the pressure building to a fever pitch. the world narrows down to the feeling of him inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear. you know you're about to fall, your orgasm so close you can almost taste it.

“please, please,” you babble, your voice a desperate plea. “i’m so close, wonwoo, please—”

his hand speeds up on your clit, his fingers pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. it sends a shudder through you, and with a final, brutal thrust, he pushes you over the edge.

your orgasm knocks you down, your entire body convulsing with the force of it. your walls clench around his cock, almost pulling him over the edge with you, and he lets out a low, guttural moan.

the world blurs as the tides of your orgasm continue to wash over you, your body trembling with aftershocks. you can feel him throbbing inside you, his cock twitching as he chases his own release. the sensation is almost too much, and yet you crave it, needing to feel him come undone inside you.

“cum for me,” you whisper, “please, wonwoo, i need it—”

with a strangled groan, he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he finally lets go. you feel him pulse inside you, the heat of his release filling you up.

you can feel yourself dripping as he pulls out, the sensation of his cum mingling with your own. your pussy feels almost numb, a lingering ache from the vigor of it all. your legs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as you try to steady yourself against the wall. your breaths come in ragged gasps, each one punctuated by a soft hiccup that you can’t seem to control.

“hey,” he murmurs, his voice softening as he gently turns you to face him. “are you alright?”

you nod, though the effort it takes to stay upright makes your knees wobble.

he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close and guiding you to the bed. as you sink down onto the mattress, the world seems to tilt slightly, your body still recovering from the overwhelming sensations. wonwoo sits beside you, his hand stroking your back in soothing circles.

“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his tone filled with genuine remorse. “i didn’t mean to be so rough.”

you manage a small smile, leaning into his touch. “it’s okay.”

he nods, his eyes still searching yours for any signs of discomfort. “just... let me take care of you now,” he says, his voice tender. “lie back.”

“woo…”

“hm?”

“i'm yours.”

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel master list

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous. He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it. He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable.

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you. Of course it would.

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too. He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun.

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you.

“Can I see it?” you ask.

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?”

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate. “Can ya gimme a second, honey?”

“Okay.” He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away. “Now?”

“No. Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make.

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.”

“Why?"

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer.

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.”

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.”

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs.

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper.

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions.

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly. Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad. If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop.

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway.

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like. Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit.

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft.

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach. You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste.

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily.

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips. He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch.

Then, your lips wrap around the head. He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”

You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more.

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating.

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs.

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees. In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel.

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he nods.

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum. It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.”

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.”

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop.

“Good girl,” he sighs and cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need. You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it. You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief. He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on. But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it. “Good girl, that’s real good, honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away. Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body. He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep.

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change.

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself.

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair.

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all."

"I know."

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all.

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs.

"You want a hand?"

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass. "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?"

You're quiet.

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.”

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit.

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.”

“Okay.” You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down.

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats.

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact. He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah,"

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs."

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit.

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper.

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes.

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip.

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.” You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you.

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.”

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say.

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that.

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper. You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good.

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time.

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes. His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty.

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer. He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.” You turn around and face him. “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath. He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.” He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod. He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

-----

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

-----

for fic notifications, please follow @toxicfics, subscribe to notifications, and make sure your tumblr app settings allow push notifications. ⚠️ some of my fics are pretty dark.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x innocent reader #joel miller x virgin reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic #tw virginity loss #Finally F*cking Friday

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minnies-puppydoll · 2 months ago

Note

hi!! i really really REALLY love your works so far like USHDNSKSKJZZBNS THEY ARE SO GOOD AND FIT THEM AND JUST THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR HARD WORK

uhm, so uh, i would like to order a skz reaction when they are needy, please. like when they are so desperate and just yearn to fuck or be fucked i dont mind. thank you so much!! 🫶

OT8 HCS:

*~When they’re needy~*

pairing: ot8 x reader

tags: cum, toys, anal, sounding, begging, degredation, praise :3

thank you for ordering!! do you need a recipt?🐶

smut below the cut<3

Chris:

• gets so flirty.

• like he’s usually flirtatious, but when he actually wants it to go somewhere he so extremely smooth with it.

• but it also turns into dirty talk real fast. he’ll spill filthy things into your ears or messages.

• or he’ll send you quick little texts like:

you should come over ha ha..not unless u want too <3

• dick pic sender!! his big, leaky cock twitches under the exposure of his camera, he bites his lip as he snaps the picture. he giggles despite feeling dirty, because a part of him likes being teased.

• he ends up getting himself more worked up on accident. he doesn’t want to jerk off or anything because he wants to save his cum for you. but, he can’t resist touching himself, so he’ll just tease his cock so bad.

• you may come home and see your sexy boyfriend laid out on the couch red-faced and breathing heavy with the bottom of his shirt between his teeth. he’ll run his fingers along his red, dripping cock lightly, whining and squirming his hips at the torture.

• he thinks you’re cute, so he likes to touch you up and tease you.

• honestly is a bit shy to say outright the he “wants to have sex” so he’ll play with you until you’re begging to fuck. (depends on his mood)

• or sometimes he’ll let his actions speak louder, by kissing you as soon as you walk through the door, pressing his hard cock onto your thigh so you can feel how much he thought of you.

“mmh..yeah, feel that? feel me? been like this all day, teasing my cock just for you. its my turn to feel you, hm?”

Minho:

• can’t focus on shit.

• he sees horniness as an annoying ache. he’s so distracted easily, he’s daydreaming about sex, and he’s uncomfortable, he just wants to relieve the desire burning his core.

• so sensitive too, especially when he’s daydreaming. someone touches his shoulder and he’s flinching, if someone whispers something in his ear he’s shuddering.

• he used to be too proud to say he’s horny. but you could see through his curt, sarcastic attitude by how clingy he would get around YOU. the only one that could fix it.

• so because of his attitude, he used to just spam text you a bunch of things for attention. it’s like as soon as he’s horny, he’s laying himself over you like a cat.

• but now, he’s way more comfortable, maybe even too comfortable.

• he’ll just send you a selfie with a dumbass filter and text:

come to the bathroom and suck me off🐰

• like bro what💀 it always works though..

• doesn’t send dick pics. even if he’s away he’ll just facetime you if you wanna see his dick so bad. he’ll pour lube down his cock and jerk himself off so slowly, always shows his blissed out face too.

• when he’s finally got his hands on you, he’s too focused on getting himself off to say anything to you really. but, if you keep him waiting long enough, you’ll hear his frustration.

“can we fuck? like right now? ….please. ill eat you out. i know you can’t say no to something like that.”

Changbin:

• if he’s at the studio, you won’t even notice. you can only tell by the impatient bouncing of his leg and his nervous lip bites.

• once he has you alone, he’s placing a soft hold on your waist, nuzzling your noses and whispering such cute things that equally make you giggle and want to bite on his lips.

• his foreplay consists of soft grabs and sweet kisses that get deeper and deeper until he’s got you straddling him, not breaking the intimate makeout session you’re sharing.

• very comfortable telling you when he’s horny, even if pink still hues his cheeks a little.

• very cute about dick pics. he doesn’t send them unless you tell him to, and the first time he did, he was so excited and aroused. he looked around from his phone, seeing if anyone noticed the flushed expression he had in his face.

• he snuck to the bathroom and sprung his thick cock out of his boxers, he fumbled with the camera for a while, not really knowing how to take a picture of it?

• he snaps a cute picture of his short cock leaking a thin string of precum on his finger. the picture and situation turned him on so much he was begging you to let him jerk off.

• when you aren’t home, he’s usually patient, but you can’t ignore things forever..

• you guys own a few toys, so he’ll pick a few from the drawer that he hasn’t tried yet and play with his cock until you get home.

• it’ll be a pretty picture when you do too. he’ll be on his hands and knees, lightly fucking a small, pink buttplug in and out of his ass, begging for you too finish him off.

“ahn- welcome home, sweet girl… mphh..need your soft pussy on my cock. please please- fuck me with this in?”

Hyunjin:

• stares at you alot.

• he’ll look up at you with such a sweet, loving gaze, analyzing every part of you like a nostalgic toy.

• he loooves frotting. he’ll show you how needy he is for you by rubbing his sweet hard-on along your clothed tummy till his precum stains his pants. its like he’s magnetically drawn to you when he’s hard.

• comfortable telling you when he’s horny. he’ll tell you when you guys are alone/able to, so you don’t feel pressured to make time for his desires, especially when you’re busy or having fun.

• sends way more bulge pics than dick pics. some of his long, hard cock in his sweatpants, maybe his pretty hand gripping the length of it.

• sends vids too, he’ll send you one of him teasing his cockhead with a thick paintbrush of his, begging you to come home and do it instead.

• when you aren’t home, he’ll jerk himself through the silk of his pajama pants, stopping when he’s close to cumming. or he’ll roll his hips into mattress, pretending it’s your wet pussy.

• and when you do get home, he’s meeting you at the door. his hair is messy and he’s somewhat panting. he’ll step closer to you till his lips rest in your hair, and his hips are the only part of him you can promenantly see.

• he’ll pull his sensitive cock out from his cozy pants, jerking himself off right in front of your eyes, his tip pressing onto your shirt. his breath will hitch and he’ll hide his face in your hair, moaning in realization that he’s finally gonna cum.

• it squirts onto your sweatshirt, pumping out of his cock with small, audible thuds. his cum seeps messily into clothes, as he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck.

“mm- fuck…so fucking turned on right now..you see what you do to me? oh god..g’nna cum- gonna fucking cum..”

Han:

• act suprised, he’s pathetic.

• literally dissasociated. he wants you so bad he doesn’t even care about whats happening if it isn’t related to you.

• if you aren’t home, he’ll lay in bed, gripping the sheets around him and even stripping down because of how hot his body gets when he thinks about you.

• no indescribable force could keep this man from jerking off. babe as soon as he gets home and shuts the door behind him, he’s leaning on that shit and quickly unzipping his cock free.

• he’ll be still setting down his bag while he’s twitching and jerking from stroking his cock. as soon as he’s done, he plops down on the bed and continues to jerk himself off till he cums for the first time that day.

• oh he sends dick pics. but weirdly only when he’s in public or at work, never at home. you can’t count how many pictures of his hard cock he’s sent from bathrooms, practice rooms, dressing rooms and even in this hoe’s car.

• when you are home, he’s holding your hands and begging for you to have some type of sex with him. he doesn’t card if your pegging, he’s fucking, he’s domming, or he’s subbing or whatever, he just needs to feel you on him.

• if you say anything other than yes immediately, he’s dropping to his knees and looking up at you, saying such useless, pathetic words in hopes to get himself fucked.

“please! please please- i’ll be such a good boy…just need it. need it so bad it hurts. i’ll take whatever you give me..”

Felix:

• so clingy and desperate.

• but, he’s so happy he has someone to fuck so he doesn’t have to suffer alone.

• biggest pleaser. he’ll pull you into a deep hug, reaching a hand down to toy with your clothed clit, eating up every noise you make.

• he likes clear communication so he’ll just text you and ask when you are returning home.

• his dick pics are usually tame. pictures of him pulling up his sweater so you can see his freckled abs and leaky cock. or he sends videos of his long cock squirting in the company bathrooms, you can only hear the cute splashing sounds and his whiny little gasps, trying to stay quiet.

• but, when he feels really turned on, he might even send little slutty videos of his cute cock humping his pillow till he shoots cum all over the fabric, or maybe one of him sounding his cock slit till his eyes roll back from a dry prostate orgasm.

• felix is a WHORE. so u guys do in fact have large toy drawer☺️

• when you aren’t home he either fucks his ass with one of your old dildos, or humps some other object of yours. though it’s softer than it sounds, he just loves you!

• coming home is the best. on the bed, he’ll be sat up on his knees, holding your shoulders and kissing you messily. his back is arched toward you as you tug on his cock to completion. he may not have the energy left to pound you, but it’s the best suprise ever.

“mmph..ffuck- can’t hold it anymore..mm- ah! your hands- ah..faster faster please..i can take it.”

Seungmin:

• you would think he’s in pain or something.

• it starts off with him just scrolling on his phone, and when he starts getting horny he may just reach a hand down there to softly rub his cock through his pants.

• then, he’ll look away from his phone, feeling it get more intense. his cock starts getting antsy, so he’ll text you when you’re coming home.

• finally, his phone is discarded. he decided to take a cold shower before he got sweat on his bed. but, it didn’t help much. the water hitting his cock made him hiss through his teeth.

• before he knew it, he had the showerhead in his hand, turning the water pressure up and letting it hit his cock. eyes rolling back and trembling before his cock squirts all over the shower wall.

• he doesn’t send pictures like at all. he’ll just explain through words how he’s feeling. he finds it awkward and strange.

• but he’ll send the prettiest voice messages of him groaning your name and the sloppy sounds of his cock.

• when he does get his hands on you, its desperate, not like jisung desperate but like he’s kissing you quickly and deeper, holding the side of your face.

• will pound you like he hasn’t cum in years, unintentionally holding you down and forcing his cock deeper.

“needed this. fucking needed this..nothing’s better. hm? slutty pussy’s all mine right? tightest fucking hole.”

Jeongin:

• being horny is his favorite.

• he’ll position himself in front of his mirror, smiling and spreading precum on his tip.

• he doesn’t usually wait for you, because he likes teasing you anyway, he likes it when you beg him to fuck you instead of his hand or his fleshlight. but he may wait for a little while.

• he’ll walk around in his grey sweatpants, making dinner and washing dishes while his hard cock bulges and twitches excitedly when he frots against the counter.

• genuinely the king of dick pics. he knows his cock is pretty, so every time he’s hard he’s having a full photoshoot before he jerks off. has folders in his camera roll full of just his dick.

• prefers taking pictures when you are there. so he can have a pretty pic of you mouthing and nuzzling into his bulge. his good girl.

• excited for you to come home and beg for him to fuck you again. he’ll pull his fleshlight from his closet, steadily moving it up and down on his cock, waiting for you to find him like this.

“wish this was your slutty cunt i was fucking? mm..sorry. i don’t think i can stop now. gonna cry? go ahead. ah..she’s tight too. ill waste my cum in this toy if you don’t start begging.”

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froggibus · 2 years ago

Text

Got Me Up All Night - Ramattra

Pairing: Ramattra x fem! reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Ramattra is used to putting you to sleep when you can’t, but he’s found a far more effective way now…

CW: slight somno (consensual), size difference + size kink, thigh riding, overstimulation, edging, fingering, Ram has a cock, spanking, dom! Ram (that rhymes lol), sub!reader, possessiveness, insomnia, unprotected sex (but he’s a robot so idk how that even works lol), creampie but not really (^)

guys I am so down bad for this guy rn it’s not even funny…trying to focus on my comp games but he’s standing there being this sexy and ugh

It’s well past three am when you’re rolling out of bed and padding down the halls of the monastery. It’s been a while since you went to sleep at a reasonable time, most nights you tossed and turned until you gave up and resigned to wandering around until you found what you were looking for. Or rather, who you’re looking for.

You find him in his office, legs propped up on his desk while he studies a map. Though he doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, you know he knows you’re there. He says nothing even as you approach him slowly and climb into his lap.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle your head into his neck.

Ramattra freezes at your touch. He’s not an affectionate being by any means—he’s never really understood why humans are so caught up on it. But having you drape yourself across him, your warm body against his cool metal, he almost understands it.

He wraps an arm around you, large hand settling on your back. “Another restless night?”

You hum in agreement, nodding your head. The skin of your cheek brushes his and if he was capable of blushing the way humans did, he would. Something about you just gets into his head, and while he’s never cared much for humans and their antics, he cares for you.

“Do you want to discuss it?” His thick fingers tangle in your hair, gently tugging on the strands.

“Just wanna sleep,” as if on cue, you yawn.

He nods, going back to studying the map on his desk. Still, even as he concentrates, his hand still plays with your hair and rubs your back and brushes your fingers.

You can’t help but stare at how much bigger he is than you. Ramattra, the omnic warrior who could crush you with one hand, but he’s being more gentle than anyone has ever been with you in your entire life and a part of you just melts. Ramattra, who you thought hated you and your kind until he lulled you to sleep in his office and carried you to bed. Ramattra, who can’t communicate his feelings for the life of him—but why would he want to have feelings for you? You’re just a human, after all.

As soon as he notices your heart rate steady and your breathing soften, he’s scooping you up in his arms and carrying you down the hall. He’s as careful as he can be, supporting your body with just enough strength so that you won't wake up.

He lays you down in your bed but your arms don’t loosen from around your shoulders. A quiet whimper leaves your lips. He tilts his head in confusion. You were asleep a second ago, and he was so careful.

It doesn’t seem like you’re awake though.

He sighs and lays on the bed next to you, letting your body weight drape over him. It’s a good thing he finds your sleepiness endearing.

You subconsciously wrap your arms around him, slinging one of your legs over his muscular one. You’re completely draped over him, and though the omnic could remove you at any point, he thinks it’s a good excuse to stay the night with you.

He relaxes with you, letting his thoughts wander from Omnic supremacy for a minute. He thinks of you, laying like this underneath him, showing him things he’s always been curious about. Of course, it doesn’t last long. Not when you’re suddenly whining and rubbing up against him.

He can feel your heart rate pick up too, the steady thumping growing uneven. He’s not sure what to do—are you having a nightmare? Are you in pain?

He scans you over, looking for any reason for your sudden change in attitude. He grips your shoulder and gently shakes you awake.

Your eyes flutter open, squinting to adjust to the dark. “W-what?”

You try to gather your bearings. You were having a dream, a really good dream. It’s then that you notice the dampness in your underwear and the way your legs are wrapped around one of his.

“S-sorry!” You stammer, and go to pull away your leg, but he grabs your hip and keeps you in place.

He’s so big, so strong—his fingers reach almost to your belly button while his palm is on your hip, and he effortlessly holds you still. “What’s happening? Are you in pain?”

You bite your lip and shake your head, trying to keep your eyes away from his. Your pussy is still gushing and you fight the urge to keep rocking your hips against him.

“No. I’m not hurt, I—I just…had a weird dream.”

Ramattra looks at you curiously. Your body temperature has gone way up, you can’t look him in the eye, and he can feel a warm wetness in the crotch of your pants. He’s heard of these symptoms before but he’s in complete disbelief. There’s no way you’re aroused, is there?

He holds you still with one hand while he slowly trails the other one down your side, slipping it into the waistband of your shorts. His fingers brush your swollen clit and you whine, trying to clench your thighs around his thick fingers.

Your reaction confirms all he needs to know, and then he’s withdrawing his hand from your pants and rubbing circles on your thigh.

“R-ram,” you whimper.

He finds your pleas endearing. You’re so frail and desperate beneath him, straining your hips against his grip to try and get the friction you’re so desperate for. Still, he holds you in place.

“Tell me what you need.”

You whine again, looking at him with desperate eyes and trying to rub your hips against his thick metal thigh. “P-please, let me just—”

He releases his grip on your hips and you let out a whine as you get the friction you’ve needed. You roll over so you’re somewhat on top of him, gliding your hips up and down his leg. He keeps a hand on your hip to guide you along, occasionally pressing you into him in a way that makes you lick your lips and roll your eyes.

He’s in utter disbelief. He never thought he’d be close to a human, let alone having sex with one. But you look so fucking cute, and he loves how he has complete control over you. How he can give you so much pleasure or take it away at will.

You look up at him in utter want and he knows what you’re trying to say—you need more. He rips the fabric of your shorts and underwear apart in one fluid motion, discarding them somewhere on the bed. The cold night air hits your aching pussy and the skin to metal contact is delicious.

You go faster, rolling your hips up and down in waves, the knot inside of you building. You know you won’t hold out much longer, and all you want is to finish.

Ramattra considers stopping, lifting you up and ruining your orgasm. But he’s not that cruel. At least, not for the first one. He wants to see you come undone, he wants to see how fucking pretty you’ll be when you cum for him.

It only takes a few more seconds before you’re clenching around him, muscles spasming and pussy gushing. He holds you still during it, large hand stroking your head, trying to keep you calm while you thrash around wildly.

You let out a sigh of relief, rolling off of him. “Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I wasn’t really thinking straight and—”

Ramattra is on top of you, caging you in to the bed with his body above yours. “Who said I was done with you?”

You swallow hard. “I-I don’t think I can take another one.”

“You can,” his hand trails down your stomach, thick fingers starting to work on your clit, “and you will.”

You suck in a breath, your legs spreading against your will. You’re so wet and warm and waiting for him, your pussy practically begging to be opened up by him. He circles the tip of his finger around your entrance, admiring the way you clench the air in anticipation.

He slips his finger inside of you. Just one of his fingers is so thick, so long. He reaches places you could never dream of reaching on your own, filling you up so damn good. He works you open, watching you writhe beneath him and whine from the sensitivity.

It doesn’t take much to stretch you out enough to slip another finger in, the omnic pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace. You’re thrashing around so wildly that he keeps a hand on your stomach to steady you, pushing down and creating a pressure against the fingers he has inside of you.

He can feel your muscles starting to tense again, hear it in the way you’re whining. He knows you’re not going to last long. He curls his fingers inside of you, trying to get you closer to your orgasm.

You’re so close, you can taste it. You thrust your hips into his hand, desperate to finish. You can feel it, your whole body is begging for it.

And then he pulls out.

You don’t waste a second in trying to shove one of your hands between your legs. Ram catches your hand before you can even touch your oversensitive clit, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his hands and pinning it above your head.

“Do you want to finish?”

You nod furiously, looking at him with your messy hair and pleading eyes. “Y-yes, god, so fucking badly.”

He trails his other hand up your thigh, going so painfully slow. You arch your back, whimpering. Just before his fingers can slide back into you, just before he touches you, he pulls back.

“R-ram!”

He squeezes your wrists in warning, reminding you who’s in control here. “You finish when I say you finish. You want to be good for me, yes?”

You nod.

“Good,” he sounds pleased with your answer, and trails his hand back up your thigh.

His finger barely grazes your clit but you shiver, arching your back off of the bed. He can’t help but laugh at your desperation, the way you’re so whiny and needy for only his fingers. The way you’re so desperate to be fucked by an omnic almost double your size. It’s so dirty, he loves it.

He finally shoves two fingers back inside of you, returning to his earlier pace without letting you adjust. That burning need to cum mixed with your sensitivity from earlier and the way he’s so lost in your pussy is all too much for you. It only takes a few thrusts before you come undone around him.

This time is way more intense than the first, walls spasming around his fingers. He releases your wrists, letting you arch your back and whine beneath him.

He waits for you to catch your breath for a minute before leaning in close to your ear and whispering, “do you need more?”

You shake your head. Your skin is already feverish and sweating from cumming twice, and your pussy is so sensitive you’re not sure you can take much more.

Ramattra slaps your pussy hard, staring at you expectantly. “Do you need more?” He emphasises each word with a slap, admiring the way you gush with each one.

You like pain—he’ll have to remember that.

“Y-yes!” You gasp out, clenching your thighs together. “I need more. I-I need you.”

He hums in satisfaction, happy with your answer. “That’s the slut I know.”

His words fluster you, making your head even dizzier than it was before. It’s so brash, so unlike him, but you love it. You love how he’s treating you like an experiment.

Ramattra gets onto his knees in front of you, messing around with the plate just below his abdomen. Omnics aren’t built for breeding, they aren’t meant to procreate. But through years of the evolution of technology and omnic-human relationships, modifications have been made.

You’re shocked to see Ram remove his plate, revealing a tentacle like cock made of the same organic metal as his body. It’s long and thick, and it’s bigger than anything you’ve tried to take before, but all you want is to feel it inside of you, stretching you out.

Ramattra laughs at the size difference. He’s already much bigger than a human, and he knows that extends to every part of him. He knows that by fucking you he’ll be ruining you for every human man after, but he doesn’t care. Those human men can’t have you—no one can. They don’t deserve you.

He lines up the tip at your entrance, rubbing his cock through your folds and gathering up your juices on his length. It’s such a funny feeling for him, you feel nothing like he expected but he loves it.

He slowly pushes his way inside of you, feeling your gummy walls stretch around him. You whimper, desperately wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He pushes his way deeper, his cock stopping just past halfway.

He frowns. “You can take more than that.”

You shake your head, toes curling. “Too deep,” you protest.

He pulls out and slams back in, trying to force more of his length inside of you. He’s so much bigger than you, so much bigger than anything you’ve taken before. He completely stretches you out, reaching places you never knew were there.

He picks up his pace, slamming his hips against yours in a way you know will leave bruises tomorrow. He’s so deep inside of you, you can hardly take it. Regardless of the pain and the stretch, you find yourself lifting up your legs to give him easier access.

Ram uses this as an excuse to force himself deeper, hips colliding with yours with every thrust. He trails his hand down your stomach, squinting when he feels the slight bulge in your abdomen. He looks at it in shock—is he really that deep inside of you? Are you really that much smaller than him?

It only drives him to fuck you harder, throwing your legs over his shoulder in a mating press. You’re a moaning mess beneath him, crying out so loudly he’s sure half the monastery can hear you. Good, they’ll know who you belong to.

You’re almost sobbing from the pleasure, alternating between squeezing his shoulders and burying your head in his neck. Everything is so hot and sensitive, and he’s so big and so deep you can feel him everywhere. But you want more. You need more.

You moan out his name and please like a prayer. You’re not even sure what you want, what you need. Your brain has practically turned to mush at this point, and you’re getting close to the edge.

Ram can feel it too, and his cock vibrates in response. The feeling makes you shiver, only begging him to fuck you harder. You’re so close, so so close. All you need is a little more…

His cock pulses again and you come undone, tugging him close to you while you cum. Everything is so hot and wet and the faint feeling of him fucking you through your orgasm only drives you even more.

Your orgasm is enough to bring him close to his, cock vibrating steadily as he thrusts into you sloppily. He’s so desperate, collapsing on top of you in an attempt to get as deep as possible.

Finally, he lets go. There’s a hot warmth spreading through your stomach, and you look up at him through teary lashes. “Did—did you just…?”

“Organic nanites,” he explains, smoothing your hair back.

You nod slowly. It feels so good you don’t care, he could keep fucking his nanites inside of you all night as long as he makes you feel this good.

It’s not long until you’re starting to drift off to sleep again, your head on his chest and a leg around either side of one of his. Ram strokes your hair, admiring how fucked out you look. There’s still more that he wants to try with you, but there will be plenty of sleepless nights for that in the future.

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #ow #overwatch fic #xreader #overwatch headcanons #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #ramattra smut #Overwatch smut #overwatch ramattra #x You #ramattra ow

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rafesheaven · 6 months ago

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Now you have four hehehehehhehe can I get some Rafe and Sarah’s best friend and she’s always had something for him and he just doesn’t seem to notice until she starts getting attention from another guy at a party and that beautiful himbo “sees” her for the first time 💕😭🩷

ily bae 💗 this was my first time writing fluff in YEARS so pls be nice and bare with me cause i'm already nervous abt how it turned out 😭

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader warnings: none really just a bit of soft!rafe word count: 705

Living next door to the Cameron’s for years, allowed you to become best friends with Sarah. The first time you hung out at her house, you met her family, who instantly adored you. Much to Sarah’s surprise, even her older brother, Rafe adored you, which was rare because he never approved or liked any of the friends she brought over.

You were over at their house often, which allowed you to get to know Rafe better and eventually made you just as close as you are with Sarah. Unfortunately, as much as you tried to avoid it, you’ve fallen under the cliche of crushing on your best friend’s brother, who was also your other best friend.

You’ve tried everything that you could think of to get his attention, hoping that he’d notice but shockingly, no matter how much you tried, he was oblivious to it. You hoped that you’d get his attention in the way you wanted but one day, you saw the way he was looking at other girls. You realized then and there that Rafe would never look in your direction, so, you’ve given up on trying.

You’ve been trying to avoid him whenever you went over to hang out with Sarah, making excuses anytime you were left alone with him. Rafe figured you were going through something and needed space but the way you were acting continued to go on for weeks.

Sarah knew you liked her brother, you didn’t even have to tell her, she could see the way you looked at him and the way you’d get flustered anytime he was around. Of course, she picked up on how you were acting and decided to drag you to a party, in hopes that it would at least make you forget about her brother, even if it was just for a few hours.

You were too busy mingling with Sarah and a few mutual friends, finally feeling yourself let loose to notice Rafe showing up. You may not have noticed him but he noticed you, watching you enjoy yourself. He’d occasionally glance over in your direction, his eyes remaining on you when you walked away from your friends to get another drink.

He didn’t pay much attention, his focus going back to his conversation with Topper and Kelce until he heard you giggling. When he looked back over towards where you stood, he was clenching his jaw at the sight of you talking to Logan, who had his hand resting on the small of your back. Topper and Kelce’s voices are fading from his ears as he’s downing the rest of his drink, making his way over towards the two of you.

“Hey, princess” Rafe’s voice is heard from behind you, making you turn around, “Didn’t know you were here” he smirks, ignoring Logan. “Can’t you see that we’re talking?” Logan mutters, clearly annoyed, which only makes Rafe chuckle, “Yeah, and now you’re done talkin’ if you know what’s good for you”.

Logan rolls his eyes, looking between the two of you before snorting and stomping away. “Are you serious, Rafe?” you scoff, “What? Just wanna talk to you, s’all” he shrugs. “You’re unbelievable, I was talking to him” you shook your head, “Okay? Now you can talk to me”.

You shoved past him, walking away, only for him to chase after you. “Hey, wait for a second, don’t walk away” he grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him until you're pressed against him, “Look, I’m sorry, alright. That was a dick move on my part” he mutters, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Oh, so you admit that you were being a dick” you snort, looking up at him, your eyes immediately softening when you stare into his eyes.

“Just this once” he playfully shrugs, “I’ll admit, I might’ve been a bit jealous”. He takes in the way your eyebrows furrow, “Jealous? Why would you be jealous? He and I were just talking-” your rambling is quickly cut off by the feeling of Rafe’s lips on yours. You can feel yourself melting into the kiss before he pulls away, “Does that answer your question or do I have to kiss you again?”.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @hallecarey1 @heartsforvin @sturnioloshacker @xxbimbobunnyxx @rafesthroatbaby @eternalbuckley @nemesyaaa @ihe4rttwd @starkeyisthelastname @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @fae-of-prey @amandabbbbb @rafecameroninterlude @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @starkeysbebe @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @strawberrydolly333

#divider by anitalenia #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #꒰ rafe prompt ꒱#rafe cameron blurb #obx blurb #soft!rafe #bsf!rafe

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rsatoru · 5 months ago

Text

bbzzzz bzzzzzztttt...

your phone has been buzzing over the coffee table for two minutes. two minutes and 14 seconds.

sigh

you rise from the table—the very table overflowing with godforsaken paperwork the godforsaken higher-ups have assigned you to finish. you’re trying to focus and get everything finished as soon as possible, but the obnoxiously person trying to call you on the phone wouldn’t let you right now.

͏͏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀toruru !! ^_^ (ate ur cookies) (do not answer.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ringing . . . ✆ ⠀⠀⠀ 1:27 pm⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀answer ၊ decline

of course, it’s no other than your idiot of a boyfriend

clicking the answer button, cause who are you to resist him anyways? . . . “satoru.” you say unimpressed. “baby!! :D” the cheerful voice on the other side exclaims.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”

“uhuh,” satoru scoffs, “’m on the same mission you forced me to go because you hate me so much!”

“satoru, sigh it’s your job, your responsibility. you can’t just ditch an order from principle yaga because you wanna stay at home cuddling me.” you respond

“can’t a man just have some quality time with his dearest girlfriend in peace?” satoru whines over the phone

“toru, baby,”

“fine.. :(” oh, you were so sure you could almost hear his smile turn into a frown. that being said, “why’d you call?” asking, looking back over at your unfinished paperwork, oh the higher ups might just beat your ass.

dating satoru means also having to deal with his long phone calls. you’re aware you could easily just hang up on him, but unfortunately for you, sometimes you don’t even realize you got too caught up in the moment. you love him too much, too much you can effortlessly handle his obnoxiously long phone calls—and he doesn’t even talk about anything important or necessary! and you think, maybe, you’re just as down bad as he is for you.

“oh yeah! heh, sorry babe, your voice made my mind go blank.” — “you’ll never guess what kind of technique these so called first grade cursed spirits have!” and he asks you to turn your camera on—in which you did-

revealing a bunch of cats spawning and jumping everywhere “look at the kind of domain expansion this guy has!” satoru was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. satoru called you to show he was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. because he knew.

“oh my gosh.” you say in shock. staring at whatever is happening in your screen. “toru toru! bring me one! maybe that one or or-” the cats were so cute. you absolutely loved cats. you adored them, each and every one you’ve ever seen. whether they were strays on the street or pampered pets, they were all just so adorable.

because he knew you absolutely loved cats.

these cats though, were aggressive. aggressively cute though—trying so hard to scratch your boyfriend which was impossible, all attacks were effortlessly blocked by his infinity.

“uhhh, uhhh.. no can do sweets. just look at these sly pussies trying to scratch my glorious face! i can’t let them do that to your even-more-glorious face. they’re dangerous! can’t let them hurt my baby.” he responses.

“uhm, no. you’re just rambling satoru. they’d love me.” you retort. satoru was more of a dog person—he doesn’t know such shit about cats. he doesn’t like them. but you teach him anyways; how to properly hold them, what kind food you shouldn’t feed them, etc etc,

and he actually listens.

“no baby! anyways, you know that guy over there? yeah, him. he can create pizza with cursed energy and throw it at me! it’s surprisingly strong to be fair.. but y’know they stand no chance against me.” there goes his ego as always.

“anyways—what kind of pizza do you want? tell me which toppings and i gotchu baby.”

“so you’re telling me, you’d rather get me pizza, imbued with cursed energy, which you say is pretty strong, but not cats?” you hiss, raising a brow over the phone.

“uhhhh... yeah? ( ' ⩊ '𖦹)”

this is so dumb tbh but i jst had pizza for dinner i couldn’t not think about my glorious king

#𓇼 ׂ #( ꩜ rury closet ★#⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀#i miss him 💔#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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write4cench · 1 year ago

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kisses and braids.

summary: you braid central cee’s hair, but he seems to be a bit too distracted.

pairs: girlfriendreader x boyfriendcee

genre: fluff + making out?

word count: 1.2k

a/n: idk about u but something about braiding a mans hair just does it for me. 😩

“oakley, if you don’t stop moving i swear your braids won’t turn out right.” you complained as he leaned over to pick up something that he managed to drop on the floor, a smile only grew on his lips amused at your annoyance.

central cee and you were seated in the bedroom of your apartment as he found himself comfortable upon the floor, rested on a pillow within your legs whilst you were seated upon your bed.

it was a random time within the evening when the idea of braids came across his mind and of course he turned to you, pleading for you to braid his hair.

and now here you were, braiding his hair into cornrows and having been doing so for the past hour or so, only getting to about half of his head.

one thing about central cee is that he had a lot of hair, but for some reason despite your advice, he always decided to keep it underneath something.

“shit, does it have to be this tight?” he asks you as his tattooed hand comes to rest upon his newly braided hair, you giggled at his silliness.

“baby i’m sorry, but if you want them to look good for longer they can’t be loose.” you insist to him and he sighs, staring off towards the television in your room.

“i just wanna look good for my show this saturday.” he mumbles as he opens a packet of whatever it is that he decides to eat, eyes glued onto the screen.

you pick out a comb and part his head, pulling apart his hair as you do so. “you always look good, “ you start causing an adorable smile to grow on his lips, “why don’t you just keep your hair out once in a while?” you ask him.

he shrugs his shoulders, “i guess it’s too much work innit, at least now there’ll be something done to it.” he insists, implying towards the braids you do.

you pull off of his head and lean back checking out your job so far, unable to see the front you sigh. “can you like turn this way?” you ask him.

you tilt your head towards him to get a better view of the job you’ve done so far. the two of you make eye contact with one one another and a smile grows upon his lips.

“what’s funny?” you ask him confused, comb in other hand. he smiles brightly and adorably, “nah nothing, you just look cute when you’re focused.”

you roll your eyes upon hearing his words and it only makes him laugh, “shut up.” you mumble. “it’s real cute.” he continues.

the room fell quiet and you turned your focus back onto braiding as neat as you possibly could do so, you were on the final braid luckily so it wasn’t a hard job.

cench was too busy eating upon on the crisps within his hands as he found himself interested in whatever it was that he was watching, one thing about the two of you is although you might not talk a lot with each other, something about the quiet company is comforting.

his hand came to playfully hit against your leg in a rhythmic form, the sudden feeling wasn’t annoying but comforting knowing the way he would be playful with you.

“why are you hitting my leg now?” you ask him, slightly moving after each hit of his hand, he doesn’t stop instead continuing on not uttering an explanation causing you to let out a stressed sigh. "alright i guess you want to be annoying." you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

your hands focus on finish the braid, your hands interwinding his hair between one another as you approach the end, trying to finish it as fast as you possibly can, and when you do you sit back and glance at the finished product.

cench remains seated for a moment, filling his mouth, when he doesn't feel your hands on his hair he turns around to look towards you, eyes wide and hopeful, you beam.

"are we done?" he blinks and you nod your head, he exhales tired yet excitedly whilst you lean over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him into a hug from behind, he eases into your embrace.

"i'm tired." you yawn as you rest your hands for a short moment, "get some rest." you insists and you refuse, shaking you head.

as soon as you lean back he gets up from the floor, stretching for a short moment and you watch him do so. you take the chance to get up from the bed as well, standing beside him.

"wanna see how it looks?" you manage to say through a yawn, he only looks towards you with thankful eyes, pulling you into his arms.

you almost squeal at the sudden affection, his arms rest against your lower back as he holds you close, his eyes studying yours noticing how you pretend to wish to pull away from him.

"i asked you if you wanted to see your hair, not if you wanted to kiss me." you tell him and he tiredly laughs, arms still holding around onto you. "i don't care, why can't i be close with my girl?"

his head comes to teasingly rest against your shoulder and you giggle as you find a comfort in wrapping your arms over his own, you feel him pecker a few lips onto your skin and since your ticklish a few laughs manage escape through your lips.

"stop." you manage to say through your laughter a hand gently holding onto your head, but he only continues holding you close, you feel his lips form a grin against the skin of your neck.

as soon as he pulls apart you meet eye contact once again, you don't utter a word instead your smile lingers upon your lips and one mirrors upon his own. you lean in, your lips meeting his and he doesn't hesitate to kiss you back.

you kiss one another a passionate moment, enjoying the feeling. the sound of your lips against one another sounds throughout the silence and the comfort of your bedroom. you forget about everything, instead you're focused about spending this moment with the man who you truly love.

you pull away from the kiss when you feel it begin to grow a little too heated, feeling the tingles and sparks that flow throughout your body. playfully you push him away from you, his arms widen and his mouth drops jokingly confused yet enjoying the act.

"we need to stop there." you tell him warningly, it almost as if he knows the affect you have on him since he doesn't complain and you know that he knows.

"alright." he simply says.

nothing but love fills his eyes and it's almost as if you always catch yourself smiling whenever you're with him. "i love you." you say.

he remains quiet for a good moment, realising he's about to catch himself saying something he never thought he would, you watch him expectantly watching how his lips agape to utter the words, just when he's about to he buries his head into his hands.

"i love you too."

#cench #central cee #central cee imagines #central cee smut #central cee x reader #central cee x you #centralceeedit #central cee x y/n #central cee fluff

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sierrale8ne · 16 days ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER FIFTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd

warnings sexual innuendos, yall are getting edged one last time 🙂‍↔️

kalena speakss 🪽! it’s finally here, everyone say thank you to sza cs without her album this wasn’t getting done. one more chapter after this one, i can’t believe it mannnnn 🥹

July 2025 — San Diego, California

My hands are sweating more than they have ever before. I sit in silence in the driver's seat of my jeep, the car parked in the driveway. It’s a beautiful house. Costal, and fucking huge. There’s a four car garage and a driveway so big you could probably park two more cars next to mine.

This car ride was definitely eye opening to say the least. In no world would you ever catch me driving more than 30 minutes let alone two hours to see another woman.

I’d only ever do it for Maraye.

She’s heaven sent, just a completely unbelievable human being, and the second she sent that address I was in that car faster than I could blink.

It was always going to be her.

The sound of my foot bouncing on the car floor echos off the walls and I take that as the cue to go inside, I’ve been sitting here forever. I turn off my engine, sticking the keys in the pocket of my shorts before taking a deep breath.

My feet feel heavy as they drag towards the wooden steps. Cedar fills my nose and calms me down, just enough.

The door swings open before I can even touch the handle.

I’m not sure if I should be pissed that Maraye looks so happy or, well, happy for her. She’s glowing, skin tanner than when I last saw her. Her curls look perfect, shiny and bouncy, perfectly framing her face. She got on these striped shorts that leave too much for my imagination and a USC Trojans cropped shirt. (Remind me to burn that.)

“You didn’t show up.”

I’m instantly taken aback by the immediate comment. My eyebrows furrow and I blink back my confusion.

“I—Huh?”

“My show. I wanted you there and you didn’t come.” She elaborates, crossing her arms over her chest and suddenly I’m losing focus and staring right there.

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my throat, a smile spreads across my face. “That’s what you wanna talk to me ‘bout? Really?”

Maraye frowns, adjusting her position on her foot. I know she’s trying to look upset, and she probably is, but that fucking pout of her lips is the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” I admit. “But y’know we should prolly talk about something else.” My eyes squint as I look over her body. Just briefly I notice a crack in her demeanor. The sternness of her eyes slips and her lip just barely quivers. It’s like she just now realized that me being here meant talking about it.

We have to. I don’t think I’d be able to go to Indiana, knowing that she’s in the stands without knowing if she hates my guts or not.

Raye sighs, but it comes off more as a deep breath. Her arms drop to her sides and she moves from the doorway, giving just enough room for me to step inside.

She doesn’t say a word, just walking into the house like there’s nothing more to say. But I follow her anyway, looking like a lost puppy and staring at her so hard I damn near forget to lock the door.

This house is way bigger than I thought it would be, I swear I walked past a game room and a gym within three seconds of one another. It has an older style, hardwood floors and cream carpets. The lighting is dim and aside from the natural light that comes from the windows, the chandeliers from the ceiling illuminate the room with a yellow light.

After what feels like hours of walking, she stops, opening another door and revealing the balcony.

“Your grandma had nice taste. This place is crazy.” I comment, looking slightly shocked. I knew the places in San Diego were nice but goddamn.

Raye lets out a breathy laugh, approaching the outdoor seating area. It’s dark, but the fireplace that glows bright orange and yellow is more than enough for her to see me and for me to see her. She sits down without a word and I do too, right next to her on the off-white colored couch.

I can feel the warmth that radiates off her body, almost hotter than the fire itself. She crosses her legs under her as she sits and the movement of her thighs sends me into orbit.

“I’m not gonna say anything.” She speaks up, looking at me with her tongue trailing over her bottom lip.

I look at her incredulously. “Really? You ain’t gonna say shit?”

Maraye nods slowly. “Last time I saw you, I didn’t let you talk. So I’m lettin’ you talk now, you have the floor.” She gestures to the space in front of us. “I promise.”

“You swear?”

She makes a big show of zipping her lips and tossing the imaginary key behind her and it’s things like that, that make me crazy over her. The theatrics and the laughs, she’s so unapologetically herself around me all the time, even when I piss her off and she wants to put my head on a platter.

“I swear.” She smiles, turning her full attention to me.

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling the pressure of this whole situation on my shoulder again. She’s the only person in the world that without fail makes my head empty. Raye looks at me, and within seconds I’ve lost everything that I’ve been practicing on saying in the car.

“Um. Fuck,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Ion even have a fuckin’ excuse for you. I jus’— I fucked up. Drank too much, saw her, I thought you were with Julian, and I made a big mistake, Raye.”

—

Hearing Paige say all that, made my throat tighten and my chest get all heavy all over again, the same way it did when I found out everything two weeks ago.

She can’t even look at me as she speaks, and that alone lets me know she’s telling the truth. That she feels bad, maybe even worse than what she says.

“You got every right to be mad at me.” She admits, she takes a breath with every few words. It’s like she’s having a shortcoming just by trying to apologize.

A small part of me is happy to see her all stressed out like this, as if I think she deserves it. But I also fucking hate watching her struggle to get her words together. Normally she’s so confident, it’s the first time I think I’ve ever seen her so unsure of herself.

“I’m so sorry for everything. I always told you that you have a right to be upset or get emotional about things that people say, ‘cause you’re always thinkin’ you don’t get that luxury when you do.” Paige plays with her hands and it’s then when I notice the silver band on her pinky finger. “But as soon as you got mad at me, I told you that you don’t have a right to be mad.”

I nod, remembering it all. The downside of remembering everything is that I had to relive every word that she said to me that day when I woke up and when I went to bed and even in my sleep.

“Paige it’s—”

“Nah, you said I have the floor, right? Swore you weren’t gon’ say shit.” She points at me with one finger, her other pointer finger over her lips. Very obviously telling me to shut up, and I do.

I can’t help but smile at her. I think even now, with her hair in that messy ass bun and the purple star patch on her chin, she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

“You got every right in the world to be mad at me, because what I did to you was unforgivable.” Paige finally looks up at me and I think I’m about to drown in those eyes. “I made you cry, Raye. I’d never seen you cry before and I’m never gonna forget that shit. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

I sniffle a little at her words. Hearing it from her lips while she looks at me is completely different from over the phone.

I’m actually very glad that I waited this long, because the silence on my end completely aids in making sure I listen. Like actually listening, I’m not thinking of a rebuttal, or a way to defend myself, I’m just listening. Taking it all in.

Paige runs a hand over her chin. I know that action. She does it whenever she’s frustrated, or thinking, I don’t think she’s ever done it before with me; other than when she’s trying to get in my pants. But she does it all the time in her postgame interviews.

“I can’t go this long without speakin’ to you, Raye. You just… you’re so much different than anyone I’ve ever met. You’re fuckin’ special and— I wanna try this. Us.”

It’s certain, the most certain I’ve heard Paige be since she sat down. “If y’ont want that it’s fine too. We can be friends, or even fuckin’ acquaintances, I just— I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You left your mark, permanently.”

My breath hitches. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. She doesn’t even stutter when she says that, and it brings tears to my waterline. I already know I’m falling for every word she says.

I do it because she looks at me like I’ve hung the moon and the stars. Her body is even closer to mine than it was before, I can see every single shift in the blue of her eyes, every ridge of her face, I can point each brown eyelash on her eyes. I’d fall for any and everything she said if it meant I had her here. Close like this.

“You uh, you told me that I don’t know you. And I think you’re wrong.” It takes me aback briefly. I wasn’t expecting it from her, especially not right now. “I know what makes you smile, how to make you laugh, how to get on your nerves.”

I roll my eyes at Paige instantly. So hard that they were probably a few millimeters away from getting stuck in the back of my head.

She laughs, that full, high pitched laugh that I’ve missed so fucking bad. “I mean you got a point. Ion know where your parents are from or your favorite show or how you like your coffee. Or if you even like coffee. Do you? I’m getting distracted.

“—I do like coffee—” I butted in briefly, any attempt to ease her obvious growing anxiety.

“—But I know enough to know that I want you and only you. You’re it for me, Raye. And I swear to God I’ll do right by you if you give me a chance. Teach me how to be your person and I’ll teach you.”

Paige sighs and I let a similar one slip from my lips too.

“Jus’ please. I’m sorry.”

My heart feels heavy with everything she’s just said to me. I know I should forgive her, every bone in my body wants me too.

Then there’s that small part of me that doubts her just a bit. It’s the same part that creates an image of her and that girl almost everyday, the same part that doesn’t allow me to give people second chances.

I don’t even notice the tear that slipped until I’m dropping my head in my hands and I feel it. My palms run across the expanse of my face. “I can talk now?” I tease.

“Yeah, ma. You can.” Paige shakes her head in pure amusement, not even trying to fight off the grin on her face.

“It’s so hard to stay mad at you when you say shit like that.” I groan. “Ion give people second chances, Paige. Y’know that.”

“Technically, you didn’t give me a real first chance ‘cause you had a boyfriend.” She says pointedly, bobbing her hands as if she’s trying to convince me of my options. “Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You wan’ me to get on my knees? I’ll do it, I’ll beg.”

I’m laughing but Paige is completely serious, slipping off the cushion and looking at me expectantly.

“Y’ont have t—”

But she’s already doing it, sinking to her knees below the couch and looking up at me with that damn pout of hers. “—Please, Raye. Gimme another chance, angel. I’ll do anything. Please?”

There’s no one here but me and her, yet the sight of her on her knees is enough to make me burst out in that kind of embarrassed laughter. “Can you get up?” I grit through my teeth.

“Girl, I’m on my knees!” Paige sings horrendously, and I roll my eyes again at her song reference. No way this girl thought she was gonna sing some Lloyd to convince me.

“Shut up and stand up, Madison.” I say again, attempting to pull her up by her biceps that have definitely gotten bigger in these last few weeks.

“Answer me first.”

“Yes, yes okay. I forgive you, just get up!” I giggle, covering my eyes with my palm until I feel the cushion dip beside me. “Oh my God, you’re not real.” I mumble, finally dropping my hand to see how proud she is of herself.

“C’mere.” She instructs with a smile, opening her arms and I waist maybe a second of time before I’m turning and wrapping my arms around her neck.

Her shampoo wafts through the night air and straight to my nose, the cool zipper of her grey tech jacket against my stomach makes me jump a little bit, but she holds me there, tight to her body with her head in my neck.

“I fuckin’ missed you, dude.” Paige inhales. Only she could go from being sappy to calling me dude all in the same breath. It’s so uniquely Paige.

“I missed you too.” I sigh, breathing in her scent again.

I don’t think I want to let go. Because she’s here, hugging me like I could run away at any fucking minute, running her thumb over the open space on my back that my crop top is giving her.

I pull back to gaze at her. That look she used to give me all the time before we even started anything, it’s there. A slight lift of the apples of her cheeks and her pupils dilated like I swore they did back then. Only this time I don’t have to think it, I know it. I see it.

I trail my hands to her cheeks, my thumb over her bottom lip. And then suddenly I’m licking mine and leaning into her.

Except Paige pulls back before we get the chance to touch.

“You don’t wanna kiss me? Really?”

She chuckles, “no I do, trust me. I really really want to. But if I kiss you, I’m gonna wanna do so much more.”

“Oh so know y’ont wanna fuck me? Paige—”

“Damn, shout it from the rooftops then!” Her eyebrows furrow at my sudden vulgarity and she leans towards me more. “Trust, I wanna do a lot of that. I just wanna take you on a date more.” Paige smiles and she looks awfully proud of herself for the cute suggestion.

It is cute. The way her cheeks flush in nervousness. I let the blonde pull me into her lap fully, adjusting me perfectly on her lap. Her hands run distractingly on my thighs, so much so that I almost forget to respond to her.

“Can I take you out on a date?”

I nod almost in a trance.

“You wanna use your words, ma?”

“Uh huh.”

“You do? Y’wanna say yeah?” She’s teasing me, and finding amusement in it too.

“Yes. You can take me out.” I blink, slapping a hand against her shoulder, and then again when I hear that god awful cackle escape her. “You’re so annoying.”

Paige licks her lips, not taking a single second to look away from me as I loll my head down to face her. “Tomorrow night, after the three point? You are still goin’ to Indy, right?”

“I am. That sounds perfect, Paige.” I grin, leaning over to ghost my lips across her cheek.

I can’t help but do it again. Her skin is so soft and warm, a near perfect spot for my lips to meet over and over again until Paige is humming and tossing her head back in an attempt to keep a respectful distance. It’s cute that she doesn’t trust herself this much. Even cuter that I’m doing practically nothing and she’s falling victim to me.

“Ion know if you got the memo, but this is st—ill kissing.” She groans, pushing at my hips.

I grip her chin in my hand, pulling back just enough to turn her head in the other direction and place kisses there. “Mmm no s’not. Our lips ain’t even close.”

And I continue this for a while, my lips on her cheeks, her jaw, ghosting over the corner of her lips in hopes of making her give in to me like she’s done many times before in the past. Paige surprised me though, standing her ground.

When I look back, her bottom lip is wet and swollen. My guess from biting it too many times. She’s breathless, and anyone else would’ve thought I’d just made her finish right here.

“I— I need to get back home. I got a flight at four.” Paige mumbles, darting her tongue over her lips.

I frown. “Fly with me from here, then.”

“My bags are at home, ma. And aren’t you flyin’ out private?” She questions, sending a pinch to my hip.

“Yes… so? I’ll call and reroute from LAX and you can come with me.” I shrug as if it’s that simple, and it probably could be if I call the right people.

Paige smirks that infamous fucking smirk. “Ion do small planes, angel. You know this. S’cute that you wanna be with me that bad, tho.”

I cross my arms over my chest, pouting. “Please, please, please?”

—

July 2025 — Somewhere over Nevada

I need to find some kind of ground to stand on when It comes to this woman.

My hands clutch my armrests, eyes squeezed shut, and head tossed back.

I’m not scared of heights. Before anyone starts thinking that. I’m scared of tiny ass planes and not enough people on them. It was fine when we were on the ground, but the second the flight attendants were out of view and I had to get strapped in I almost shit myself.

“Paige, you can relax.” I hear Maraye giggle from in front of me, her feet resting in my lap to attempt to ground me. It worked out a little, then she started fucking around and nudging her heel a little too close to my core and all of a sudden I was trying to distract myself from something other than the plane. “P?”

“What?”

The sound of her seat belt clinging cuts through the silence, and then her feet are leaving my body and instead I feel her; all of her. Raye grips my hands, peeling the from the arms of the chair. My eyes shoot open at the contact.

“What the hell are you doin’? Sit down.” I tell her, slightly tripping out over this flight some more.

She gets smart, straddling my lap and sitting on it rather than in her seat. I let out a groan because I know that any other time I’d be all over this shit. Since last night, after I told her I was holding out at least until our date, she’s made a very big show of trying to get me to fold.

First on the drive back to LA, her hand drawing patterns on my free hand, or reaching over to play with my hair. She had perfect hands. Long, slender, fingers with a shade of deep maroon manicured on her nails. They’re fucking soft too, prefect enough to distract me while I was driving. I couldn’t help but think about how they’d feel inside me. Or circling my clit, feeling my wetness from her alone. That’s how I knew I was in so deep, when I was thinking about Raye fucking me numb just from her touching my hand.

She was talking some crazy shit too, which on any other occasion I’d be willing to handle that. But I was serious. Our relationship wasn’t going to be started on the basis of sex. I wanted to do it right. She slept In my guest bedroom because I knew If we shared a bed we wouldn’t be sleeping. Rather anything but that.

The car ride this morning was similar. Which made me realize she wasn’t doing all this just to prove a point, but because she needed me. When she told me she’d had a dream about me, told me all the details in which that dream entailed, I was about to make her wish come true and get on the floor of the passenger seat and shove my tongue so deep inside her that she saw stars. And I knew she would’ve enjoyed every minute because Raye let me know from her own mouth that she would.

Which made my brief period of celibacy nearly impossible.

She’s also not wearing clothes.

Well, she is, but not really. Her top is tiny, a sliver of fabric that barely covers her tits and shorts that ride up as soon as she gets comfortable on my lap.

“You wanna yell at me like that again?” Raye looks at me crazy, a bite of her lip and a tilt of her head that makes my entire body melt into a puddle in this seat.

“You so freaked out.” I groan, hold her hips in place. “Why the hell did I let you convince me to do this shit.” I wonder aloud trying to avoid looking out the window, noticing the obvious racing of my heart. Except I don’t know if it’s because of the plane of because of her ass pressing up on me. Her hips grinding on mine, her covered cunt dragging across the seam of my shorts.

She shrugs while trailing a finger down the obvious vein in my neck. “I dunno. You could’ve told me no.”

The slight movement pushed her tits even closer to my face and I know I’m about to either pass out or take her right here. Spread her out, rip these tiny ass pieces of fabric off her body, and drive my fingers inside her until she’s falling apart for every crew member of this plane to hear.

“Killin’ me here, ma. Move over a lil bit.” I ask, clutching a hand at her side, stilling her as much as I can and running my thumb over her ribcage. That’s where I finally see it. That damned tattoo that had me reeling on my bedroom floor last night.

John 13:7.

I think it’s the worst time for it to be staring at me, mostly because I’m thinking some very not-so-holy thoughts. She’s testing every bit of my resolve at the moment, I was confident in my ability to hold out, but we have maybe two more hours before landing, and Maraye looks like she’s going to make me work for it the whole time.

Raye catches me staring, and she pushes a stand of hair out of her own face. “You like it?”

I nod wordlessly. Every single part of her is mesmerizing. All the ink, and then that brown of her skin is addicting. Tan lines peeking out of that tube top and up out of the waistband of her shorts.

I dig into my own shorts, pulling my phone out of my pocket before flipping the screen towards her. The same bible quote on my lock screen almost as if it was fate.

She smiles, pressing her hands to my shoulder and laughing breathily. “We're just on the same wavelength, huh?” Raye asks, I’m about to answer when she presses down harder on my lap, testing every single bit of self control I have left with just one simple movement.

“Mmhmm. Same shit, baby.”

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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yandecifi · 2 months ago

Text

sex isn't about have to's

aizawa/reader

~4500 words

mild smut, angst, hurt/comfort

cw; implied rape/noncon, implied incest, implied child abuse

You've managed to avoid nights at the house by running the door at a local strip club. The bouncer you usually work with, Aizawa, is a sarcastic, unusually tall smoker. He's sweet, sweet enough to drive you home most nights — and to pick up on your subtleties.

“Hope all the girls are as hot as you.”

It’s twelve in the morning and your dress is short enough that you’ll flash everybody if you bend over. You don’t mind, though, because that’s kind of the idea; the all black, skin tight nature of your chosen work uniform is meant to draw attention to… well, the parts that matter.

You laugh sweetly as you scan the young man’s ID. Your coworker, Aizawa, looms behind you, eyeing up the crowd in front of the club and rolling a cigarette between his fingers. He’s one of the better bouncers you work with, if not your favorite — not only does he actually do his job when things get rowdy, but he doesn’t snitch on your rather immoral side hustle.

“Oh, trust me, they’re even better,” you say, passing the ID back with a flick of your fingers. You shift your weight so that your breasts squish together a little more. “Wanna come and tell me about it after?”

You flutter your lashes. Distant club music swims through your body. The guy grins and nods.

That’s gotta be at least forty bucks. Score.

You turn to flash Aizawa a little shit eating grin. He just shakes his head and takes a puff of his cigarette.

You don’t bother wearing perfume. Why would you when Aizawa’s always got smoke curling up from his lips and fingers? A year into this job and you can’t even scrub the scent out of your hair anymore. When you grumbled that you stink thanks to him, he just said you’re welcome and held out a cigarette, half-lidded eyes full of mirth.

He takes that dry approach to just about everything. Maybe it’s because he’s so much older than you, what with his inky, messily tied hair and rough stubble adorning his chin, but he doesn’t care about much aside from his paycheck and getting home. You’ve seen him take a punch to the face and just sigh with annoyance.

Still smiling up at your coworker, you ring up the next guy in line.

“Y’know, I think this is gonna be a good night, ‘Zawa.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You stay ‘till close?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nice — oh, yeah, you’re good to go in — I’m here ‘till close, too. Think you could drive me home?”

“Uh-huh. Focus on the customers.”

“Oops.” You whip around to see an older man holding out his credit. You take it with a laugh. “Sorry, sir. I’d make it up to you with a kiss, but you’ll get plenty of that inside.”

“Ha! Didn’t expect the service to start out here. I’m paying for all five of us, by the way.”

“Of course.”

You blow a kiss at the men as they pass you, their loud laughter ensuing. Aizawa blows smoke into your face. You cough and smack his arm.

The monotony of greeting and ringing up, of flirting and scanning, continues. This is how most of your weekend nights go; clock in at nine, run the door with Aizawa (usually) and dick around with him until three, and then give a blowjob or two before heading back to your apartment. It’s a pretty good gig for somebody like you — it doesn’t clash with your other jobs while still making enough cash.

The line dwindles as the night goes on. Eventually, ten minutes go by without a group, and you’re squatting and fixing the straps of the stilettos you’re wearing. An unlit cigarette hangs between your teeth. Goosebumps run up your arms from the night air as you chat about everything and nothing.

“No, yeah, I haven’t seen her since. Do you think she got fired?”

“Probably.” Aizawa’s leaning against the wall, lighter in hand. “People show up high all the time, but not that high.”

“Yeah. I swear to God she was turning blue.” The strap you’re fiddling with slips from your fingers for the — what, fifth time? You groan. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Aizawa scoffs. “What’d I say? You’ve gotta —“

“You’ve gotta stop wearing the fucking heels, I know, I know!”

You’re kneeling now, knees scraping the concrete. Every time you jam the strap into the buckle it comes right out, no matter how much your nails wedge it in tight. You sigh and resign yourself to the floor.

“This is what I get for thrifting shitty shoes.”

Aizawa hums in agreement and yet squats next to you. He squints at your bratty straps. Then, he hands you his lighter.

“Try putting your leg out straight.”

“Okay,” you murmur, butt hitting the ground as you lean back on your hands and straighten your legs. “I’ll literally love you forever if you fix this.”

“Uh-huh.”

He fiddles with the strap, one hand wrapped around your calf to hold you still. Now that he’s this close, you realize you’ve never been this equal in height to him. Like, the guy is built like a damn tree. His jawline is pretty nice, too, and his hands are warm —

“Lighter.”

“Oh, yeah, here.”

Aizawa brings the lighter to your strap and fiddles some more with the flame. Then, he stands up, already reaching into his pocket for another cigarette, though he manages to catch himself.

“Oh my God,” you say, rolling your ankle around and around. “You actually fixed it. What the hell. And with the lighter, too.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunts, holding out his free hand. You take it with a grin.

“You’re smarter than you look.”

He huffs. “Watch it.”

You laugh and the two of you separate, only to come together again — you lean towards him so that he can light the cigarette in your mouth.

“Thank you,” you say, breathing the smoke out.

“For making you stink,” he responds, breathing the smoke in.

The two of you loiter around the doors. They open occasionally, drunk men stumbling out to catch their Ubers. One guy vomits across the street. You look away with a grimace.

“Ew.”

“You should be used to this by now.”

“It’s still ew.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How long have you worked here that you don’t care about that sorta stuff?”

Aizawa rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck and all the joints there. “I’ve been here three years. Had other places before, though.”

“Haha. Old.”

“I’m thirty-nine. I’ve seen you hook up with guys in their fifties.”

You shrug, pass your cigarette to Aizawa. “They pay better.”

“Mhm,” he hums, breathing the nicotine in. He’s kinda pretty when he smokes. It’s something about the veins in his hands. “Your parents don’t care that you’re doing this?”

Your face scrunches up. “My parents?”

“Yeah?”

“How old do you think I am, dude?”

“I don’t know. Eighteen?”

“Excuse you, I’m nineteen.”

He lets out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, sticking the cigarette back out at you. You take it and smoke, face hot.

“That’s basically the same thing,” he says, laughter dead.

“Yeah, whatever, jeez. They don’t care.”

Aizawa nods slowly. You watch your smoke dissolve in the air.

“Just be careful with it,” he says.

You sneak a glance at your coworker. He’s leaning against the wall of the strip club the both of you work at, arms crossed, his black dress shirt unbuttoned at the top and sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms.

You cough and look down at your stilettos. “Thanks.”

“Your dress is riding.”

“Fuck.” You bite on the cig and yank your dress down. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“I didn’t, uh, mean to,” you mutter.

“I know.” He clears his throat and nods towards the door. “Your guy.”

Just like Aizawa says, the young guy from earlier is coming out the doors with his group of friends. They’re snickering as he says bye and splits off towards you. You’ve always been kind of a joke to everybody else, but Aizawa’s never laughed at you.

You get up with a stumble, adjust yourself. The guy reaches you and you snatch up his hand, snuff your cigarette out on your thigh with a sizzle. You can feel Aizawa’s eyes on you as you drag him around back.

Maybe it’s because you’ve done this since you were a kid, but sucking off guys like the one you’re kneeled in front of doesn’t make you feel or think as much as it probably should. It goes by fast, actually, which you don’t mention (you’ve learned that ruins the mood), a blur of motions and groaning and zippers. He gives you some cash and you’re alone, standing behind your workplace, wiping cum off of your face. It’s quiet except for the muffled music.

You pass Aizawa on your way to the breakroom. He’s checking the IDs of some guys — your responsibility, fuck — and spots you as you try to rush past. You’re wiping off the mess that’s your lip gloss, manicured fingertips running circles around your mouth. He gives you a once over, like he always does, but this time he lingers on your fingers.

The guy called you some names during it. They ring in your ears as you brush your teeth in the employee bathroom. Slut. Whore. Slut. Whore. Slut, slut, slut.

You spit into the sink. You wash your face. You don’t recognize yourself without your makeup. You rummage through your ziploc baggie of product, reapply everything. You fix your hair. Your mouth never does feel clean.

Your lip wobbles. You keep running your fingers through your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror.

When you make it back to your post, the night air biting your calves, your coworker is alone at his usual spot on the wall. You stand next to him with your arms crossed. His voice comes out startlingly even compared to the voices in your head.

“You were in there a while.”

You nibble on your lip. “It got in my hair.”

He hums.

“Sorry for making you do my job,” you whisper.

“It’s boring out here. I don’t mind.” A car drives by. Somebody laughs loudly from inside the club.

“Okay.” You want to swallow but you spit instead. “Thanks.”

Slut. Whore. Slut, slut, slut.

It hits three in the morning and you’re giggling with Aizawa in his beat-up car. A cheap air freshener hangs from his mirror, twirling about as he drives you home, an empty energy drink rattling in one of his cupholders.

“Okay, um, would you kill your cat to end traffic?” You ask, smiling, watching him as he rolls his eyes from the driver's seat.

“You’ve asked me this already.”

“Just answer!”

“No, I wouldn’t.” He taps his cigarette ash out the window, his other hand guiding the steering wheel. “Anybody who says otherwise is a psychopath.”

“Okay, yeah, I agree. What if it was a dog?”

“Still no.”

“A fish?”

“Maybe.” He narrows his eyes. “Actually, yes.”

“Why?”

“You ask the weirdest questions.” He cracks a smile as he says that, shaking his head. “I guess I feel like the fish wouldn’t care as much.”

“Okay. Yeah.” He’s taking you into your neighborhood, now. It’s the kind of place that’s pretty obviously subsidized — it’s all one-story apartments, lawns that are either dead or severely overgrown, and potholes or cracked asphalt. Aizawa slows to a stop in front of your parents’ apartment, puts his hazards on. You should unbuckle your seatbelt and say goodnight with a giggle but you’re stuck.

The lights are still on. Your windows are glowing like eyes.

“Um.” You glance at Aizawa and he’s looking at you funny, fuck. Your fingers fumble with the seatbelt and undo it with a clack. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he says slowly. You need to get out of the car, you’re gripping the door handle, all you need to do is open it.

Your father is awake and he shouldn’t be.

You’ve done this hundreds of times, thousands, even. It’s not even the act that’s the worst part anymore. It's looking at your apartment, knowing what’s going to happen, and knowing you can’t do anything about it. No, no, not even — it isn’t even that, it’s that you won’t do anything about it. You will do nothing. You will walk in and let it happen.

Slut, whore. Slut, slut, slut.

You open your mouth to say something more — another apology, maybe — but you just let out something like a whimper. Your back hits the car seat, you smile, you frown, you shake your head and take a sharp breath. Open the fucking door.

Aizawa turns off his hazards and you’re rolling past your apartment. On and on the two of you go, further into your neighborhood, until you can’t see your windows anymore.

“Anywhere else you want me to drop you off?”

“Uh.” You can’t catch up to all your thoughts. You’ve always been slow; the hot, dumb bitch, the whore, the slut. “What?”

“Do you have a friend you can stay with or something?”

Friends? You? You dropped out of school over a year ago. All you ever do is work.

“I mean, no.”

He takes a moment to look at you instead of the road. His jaw clenches. He passes you his nearly done cigarette as he loops the roundabout at the end of your street.

“I have a couch.”

You look at him with wide eyes. You’re speechless for a second because nobody has ever, ever said to you what he’s saying.

“Uh, no, no. It’s okay. I can go home.”

He grips the steering wheel with both hands, squinting at the road. He seems to be rolling your words around on his tongue, considering, analyzing.

“You can,” he offers, “but you don’t have to.”

Your brows raise as you stare at the dash. Your lips pull into a frown. You know that, you’ve thought it every single time, but it’s so different hearing it out loud.

“Okay. I — yeah. Yeah.”

And he’s pulling out of your neighborhood. You smoke until you’re burning your fingertips. He merges onto the freeway.

Aizawa lives in a concrete apartment complex the next town over. He’s on the third floor, number three-hundred-fifty-three. You stand behind him, your backpack slung over your shoulder. Your hands wring behind your back. His keys jingle and jangle as he unlocks his front door. He’s got a chibi cat keychain.

The door swings open and bounces off a wall with a thud. The first thing you notice is that it smells like citrus air freshener mixed with weed and cigarettes. Aizawa closes the door behind you, toeing his shoes off.

“You can put your shoes over here.” He gestures to the little closet by his front door. It’s empty aside from a coat or two and a few pairs of shoes. You nod, unbuckle your stilettos. Aizawa grows in height as you step out of them.

You smile a little. “How’s the weather up there?”

He sighs. “Very funny.”

His vinyl floor is cold on your feet as you follow him further into the apartment. It’s simple: a kitchen, a living room with the couch you suppose you’ll be sleeping in, and then two doors that lead to his bathroom and bedroom, respectively.

It’s not as dirty as your place. His kitchen is kept tidy, the sink empty and dry, the counters littered with spices and cooking instruments but well taken care of. He doesn’t have trash piling up or mold lining the backsplash. He doesn’t have empty beer bottles sitting on his coffee table, just an ashtray. A weighted blanket is folded neatly on his couch.

“You have a nice place.”

“I appreciate the sentiment.”

“No, seriously.” You set your bag on his coffee table while he hunts through the fridge. “I’ve got black mold, like, all over my bathroom ceiling.”

“That’s disgusting.”

You laugh, sit on the couch. “I know.”

Aizawa brings you a tall glass of water. You sip at it, tug down your dress. He averts his eyes.

“I’m going to go shower.” He undoes his hair as he speaks. It falls down to his shoulders, all fluffy and rather tangled. He rakes a hand through the blackest of it. “I have some leftovers in the fridge, help yourself. I have extra towels if you’d like to shower, too.” Then, he pauses, opens and shuts his mouth, his head cocked at you. You can’t help but lean back and giggle.

“What?”

“Are you fine with sleeping in that?”

You look down. He’s referring to your dress that, even now, you can’t help but fidget with.

“I can give you some of my pajamas.” Aizawa blinks tiredly at you. “If you want.”

Your face warms. “Uh, yeah. That’d be great. Thank you.”

Aizawa disappears into his bedroom and then returns a couple moments later with a large black t-shirt and some sweats. He hands them to you, all folded neatly on top of one another.

“Thank you,” you say again. “You’re really sweet.”

He heads towards the bathroom. “Just knock if you need anything.”

It feels weird to change in the middle of his living room so you go into his bedroom. You close the door, lock it just in case, and then lay his pajamas on the bed. It isn’t made, the comforter folded back like he just rolled out of it. He’s got shelves with a variety of books and knick-knacks on one wall, a desk with similar items against another. His closet is open, his wardrobe basically all black. How emo.

The pajamas are comically large on you. The t-shirt ends at your midthigh, the sleeves at your elbows. The collar goes off your shoulder. You had to tie the sweats’ drawstring tight around your hips so that they wouldn’t slip.

You slap your hands against your face. It’s definitely better than flashing him every five seconds, but why the fuck did you have to end up in his clothes?

You fold your dress up and exit the bedroom, the sound of the shower running filling the apartment. Sitting back down on the couch, you stuff your dress in your bag. You don’t have any makeup remover with you, but a wet paper towel or two from the kitchen works well enough at removing your makeup.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. The shower runs and runs. You don’t have much else to do aside from sit on the couch and sip at your water.

And think.

Slut, whore. Slut, slut, slut.

But what is sex, anyway? It’s the same as everything else if you think about it. You rub each other like you’re petting a dog, get close like you’re hugging, and kissing is kind of like eating. Nobody cares about holding hands or bumping into one another, so why isn’t it the same with sex? It’s just touching. It’s just touching until it’s over.

Aizawa emerges from the bathroom an unknowable amount of time later. He’s dressed similarly to you, though his pants are plaid and it all fits better. His hair is damp.

“Did you eat?” He asks, eyeing the unchanged kitchen counters.

“I’m not really hungry.”

He trudges over to sit on the other side of the couch, picking up his pack of cigarettes on the way. “You should still eat.”

“You say that while grabbing your lighter?”

He lights up with a snort. “Don’t use me for reference.”

You roll your eyes. You outstretch a hand and make a grabby motion towards him.

“No.” The smoke seeps out of his mouth and nose as he speaks. “You’ve smoked enough for a day.”

You groan. “Literally every time I see you you’re smoking.”

“What did I just say?”

You cross your arms, look away. Aizawa leans back into the couch cushions and continues blowing smoke. You peek at him from the corner of your eye. He’s doing the same thing.

He sits up. “Are you feeling better? Oh.” He blinks a little, gets up and goes to the bathroom. He comes back and stands in front of you, holding out some bandaids and a disinfectant spray. You just stare at them.

“For what?” You glance between the items and his heavily lidded eyes.

“You put out a cigarette on your leg earlier and your knees got scraped when you went with the guy.”

You take the bandaids and spray. You lay them in your lap, stare at them. He just continues to smoke, peering down at you, unmoving. Then, you let out a little laugh, your face crumpled despite your smile.

“Y’know, if you want a blow job, you can just ask.”

“I do not,” Aizawa blurts loudly, “want a fucking blow job.”

He drops to a crouch in front of you. He sticks his cigarette in the ashtray, pushes the legs of your sweats up to your knees, grabs the disinfectant off your thighs.

You sit and watch stupidly. Of course you do, you’re stupid. You’re stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why would he want something like that from somebody like you? What’s wrong with you? You’re not a hot bitch, just a dumb one. Nobody wants somebody that’s been with their own dad. You’re disgusting.

Your face is hot, head hanging while Aizawa sprays your knees. The scrapes tingle and burn. He peels the bandaids free and tears are dripping onto the sweats he gave you.

His head jerks up. You turn away in response, wipe roughly at your eyes.

You’re stupid. You’re stupid. You’re stupid.

Slut. Whore.

“It’s not that I—” He sighs, sticking the bandaid onto one of your knees. “It’s—” He sighs again, louder this time. He rakes a hand through his hair, turns around to take a drag from whatever’s left in his discarded cig.

“It’s not that I wouldn’t do those sorts of things with you,” he settles with. His hands come up to balance himself on your knees. He blows smoke. You sniffle.

“You would?”

Aizawa gazes up at you with hard eyes.

“Yeah, I would.”

Warmth blooms in your face. Aizawa searches your face for something, you don’t know, before sighing even louder and resting his head on his elbow.

“What?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Your brow wrinkles. “You shouldn’t.”

He raises his head. “Why?”

“I sucked off that guy earlier and — just — I’m dirty.”

“And I’m a deadbeat. The only person who should be worried here is me.”

“You don’t get it.” The tears start to well up again. “You don’t know the disgusting shit I’ve done.”

“Great, then we’re on the same level.”

Your fingers twitch in your lap. Before you know it, you’re leaning down and kissing him on the lips.

He tastes like cigarettes. Your hands come up to hold his face that’s all dry and scratchy with stubble. He starts to rise; he leans over, over, over, until your head hits the cushions and you’re making out with him on the couch you were supposed to be sleeping in.

He pulls aside the collar of your shirt and starts kissing along your collarbone. Your legs are tangled together, bandaged knees knocking unscathed ones. Aizawa has one hand attached to your hip, the thumb there rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of your sweats.

Buried in his mess of hair, your lip wobbles. People don’t just do things like that. He’s acting like he’s into this not just because you’re willing to fuck him, but because it’s you.

You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. You grind against his thigh, make breathy, little noises the closer his kisses get to your chest. His other hand slides under your shirt and starts to creep up your midriff, wrapping around your back —

Aizawa pauses, lifts his head. He tugs up your shirt slightly to reveal the start of a patchwork of little circular scars and divots. They climb up the sides of your torso, cigarette burns, trailing from your hip to your chest. Some are faded while others are yellow with pus.

He pulls your shirt back down, holds it there. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You squirm beneath him, chest tight. His hands are more hesitant now. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to take my shirt off.”

Aizawa’s still so close as he speaks, hovering over you. He brushes some of your hair out of your face. “Do you want me to?”

“I mean,” you stutter. “It’s kind of weird to look at.”

“I have them on my legs.”

“What?”

“My foster mom put them out there.” He swallows. “A long time ago.”

Your face crumples. You wrap your arms around him again, pull him into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. They’re almost all gone now.” He slowly hugs you back. “Yours will go away eventually, too.”

“Yeah?” Your fingers comb through his hair, snagging on the knots.

“Yeah.” Aizawa lifts himself off of you.

You smile, sit up, and pull your shirt off. You push Aizawa into sitting against the couch before straddling him. His hands come up to rest on your hips. It’s just your bra and sweats on now, your discarded shirt on the floor.

“Your scars are like leopard spots.” Aizawa’s fingers trail up and down some of the older ones. “You’re pretty.”

You’ve been called hot, sexy, cute, but not often pretty.

“Thank you.” You wipe at your face again. “You really are sweet.”

The two of you start making out again, hands cupping each other's cheeks or pulling the other closer. Aizawa ends up taking his shirt off soon after.

“These pants are ridiculous.” Aizawa laughs a little, kissing your shoulder. You’re leaning against him while he helps you shimmy out of the sweats he gave you, chest to chest. It’s different when there’s nothing but your bra keeping the two of you apart; he’s so warm, hot like a furnace, cozy.

The sweats finally join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You plop back down on him and immediately feel it — he’s hard. You rub yourself against him. Aizawa takes a sharp breath and grabs your hips in response.

“Cheeky,” he mutters, eyeing your grin before starting to kiss you again. One of his hands drags from your hip, down your stomach, and into your underwear.

He starts rubbing featherlight circles around your clit. Soon enough, you’re grinding into his hand, sweating, leaning into his shoulder. Aizawa grips your hip harder with his other hand.

“Stop moving so much.”

You nose his ear, out of breath. “Please?”

He shudders, releases his grip on you. Instead, that hand trails up your back to fumble with the clasp of your bra. You let him slide it off of you, let him kiss and nibble at your chest, let him do anything so long he keeps letting you come undone in his lap like this.

He holds you, arm around your torso, when he dips his fingers into you. He thrusts them upwards sluggishly, brows furrowed, until he’s up to his knuckles. You chew on your lip.

“You don’t have to do all this,” you murmur. Aizawa curls his fingers and your thighs clench around him.

“Sex isn’t about have to’s.”

You close your eyes and focus on his hands, on the warmth of him, instead of what that means.

#bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #fanfic #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #angst #hurt/comfort

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girlokwhatever · 8 months ago

Note

HEY! I saw ur writers block post & i’ve been WAITING for someone to do a kate martin x fem reader fic based off of Uh Oh by Tate McRae!

PLEASE MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE

i’m a genie in a bottle bby 😜

༝༚༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ uh oh!,,

kate martin x fem!reader

you were swaying your body to the beat of whatever song they were playing at the club. you’d been dancing with his guy for a little while, your way of saying ‘thanks’ after he bought you a couple of drinks.

you could feel kate’s eyes watching your every move. your body grew hot under her gaze and it only encouraged you to keep going, knowing the affect it would have on her. you finally gave into her, allowing your eyes to wander and meet hers in an intense and highly intimate stare.

kate excuses herself, walking to the bathroom hoping knowing you’d follow. she knows you too well, probably from the numerous other nights you’ve been in this situation, because you do follow. forgetting about the guy, you push through sweaty bodies to get to her. before you step into the bathroom after her, you consider your actions.

fuck it.

you push through the door and she’s already waiting for you, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. the door locks behind you as you step closer to her, letting your attraction and lust for the woman in front of you control your actions. the feeling of her hands on you is too intoxicating; you can hardly remember the moments leading up to this.

“want you so bad,”

she’s whispering in your ear about how amazing you look, palming at your tits and tugging your shirt off. you can’t feel anything but her, just her.

her heavy breaths hitting your skin, her warm hands pulling your clothes off, her lips on yours, tongue on your body. your whole body was on fire, slowly slipping back into this cycle with her that you said you wouldn’t.

uh oh.

last night after leaving the club kate dropped you back off at your dorm. she tried telling herself that she wouldn’t give into you, but she did. and she knew she would again.

you woke up to a text from kate, deciding to ignore it and move on with your day. you definitely drank too much last night, feeling the effects of it on you as you walk to class.

kate texted you a few more times during class, even calling once. when she called you again after class your resistance was beginning to wane. every second you spent with kate was satisfactory for you, but you couldn’t let something that started out as a one-night stand take over your life.

you kept telling yourself it wouldn’t happen again.

a few days later kate showed up to your dorm, knocking until you answered.

“kate? what are you doing here?”

she doesn’t answer with words, surging forward to connect your lips with her own. it was needy and hot, everything moving so fast paced as she closes your door with her foot.

“jump.” and you do as she says, adding fuel to the fire that keeps your flame burning. you can’t focus on anything but her and how she tastes against your tongue. your head spins when she drops you down on your bed like she owns this space, and in a way she does.

“kate-” you’re trying to be reasonable, trying to keep the few day streak of not giving in alive.

“just let me have this please. let me have you.”

and you let her. you’re doing it again.

uh oh.

she left that night when you were sleeping, leaving a note thanking you for a ‘good time.’ after reading it through you made a promise to yourself that it was the last time.

when you saw her a few weeks later you knew you’d end up breaking your promise. she looked too good, hair in a bun and legs clad in cargos. she saw you too, instantly feeling drawn to your half of the floor. she didn’t hesitate to find you immediately, noting that the both of you were a little too drunk for your own good.

“wanna dance?”

you scoff at her and she’s playfully rolling her eyes, pulling you to the middle of the party dance floor anyway. you don’t resist, letting her hands guide you where she wants you like you do every time.

you’d been doing so good at avoiding her, but now that she’s here all your efforts slip away. even though all your hard work is in the drain, you make the realization that you don’t care much.

“just have fun.” and you do.

her hands find solace on your hips, pulling you against her as your body moves to the rhythm of the music. kate loves the way you feel against her, deep down knowing she doesn’t ever want to have to live without it.

both of your friends know of your infatuations for each other, noting every time both of you happened to disappear at the same time. that’s why when kate pulled you out of the back door of the bar they didn’t question where she’d gone.

“wanna go to my place?” she asks you, breathless from making out with you after pushing you against the brick wall of the building.

“i need to go back to my place kate..”

your hands hold the sides of her face and she knows you’re lying when you pull her back in for another kiss. you really can’t help yourself when it comes to her, allowing her to take you back to her dorm. you’d say yes to anything to asks you and you’re not sure if that’s the alcohol or just you. it doesn’t really matter to you.

you walk through her door, remembering this place from a few months ago. she’s behind you, trailing hands up your shirt as she kisses from behind your ear down to your shoulder. she wishes she could crawl under your skin, fearing that moments like these will never end her desire to have you.

before you know it, you’re naked on her couch. her tongue pushes in and out of your leaking cunt and you’re crying out her name, hoping no one can hear you. kate’s thumb circles your clit and you feel your whole body pulsate, jumbling your words while trying to tell her you’re ’gonna cum.’

she takes everything you give her, licking every inch of your skin until you’re raw. kate thinks to herself about how pretty you are spread open for her and it makes her want to ask you to stay.

she doesn’t say anything though, just pulling your clothes back on for you and laying your body on top of hers. you might leave when you come to your senses and she knows that. she knows you’ll both tell yourselves it won’t happen again, but it always does.

neither of you mind much.

uh oh.

⚘‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾⭒❃.✮:▹♥*♡∞:｡.｡

hey girly pops i’m kinda proud of this..

i hope whoever requested it really likes it!!! 😘

#kate martin #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #iowa women’s basketball #kate money martin #i need kate martin #lgbtq #lgbtqia #wlw yearning #wlw post #kate martin smut #kate martin x reader #vote for kate #girly pop #paige bueckers #wcbb

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starsinthesky5 · 9 months ago

Text

wanna get out of here? | joe burrow x reader

description: an impromptu getaway is exactly what you and joe needed

a/n: ahhh my second fic!! all the love on my first one gave me the motivation to go and write another one :) i hope you all like this one!

warnings: smut (hope it’s not too bad since it’s my first time writing it LOL), language

word count: 6 k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wednesday

The sounds of hammering rain and thunder were all you could focus on as you were sitting on the couch, curled up in a blanket trying to finish an overly complex project for work. You had been trying to finish the final section for the past week but you simply could not get rid of the restless feeling that had engulfed you over the past few days.

Joe, on the other hand, was sitting right next to you. He was staring at the TV which had on some random rerun episode of The Office. Normally, he’d be laughing along to the show no matter how many times he had seen the episode, but today he was quiet & agitated. He had been overwhelmed this past month with intense rehab for his wrist injury; on top of which he had his off-season workouts every day which had also been incredibly vigorous. He was mentally and physically burnt out and needed something to take his mind off of everything. He noticed that you also had been swamped with work which caused you to be on edge the whole week, preventing you two from having any real 1 on 1 time like you usually do, and he wasn’t having it.

You were typing away on your computer, another idea that would probably lead to nothing, before you heard the TV turn off.

You turned your head to Joe and saw his blank face. “Everything Okay?” you questioned while reaching for his hand.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked while interlocking your hands, still looking expressionless.

“Joey there is literally a monsoon happening outside right now,” you deadpanned as you squeezed his hand.

“Not out there. I mean do you wanna get out of Ohio?”.

“Who are you and what have you done with my fiancee,” you laughed.

“What?” he asked, looking quizzical as if he had no idea why you said that.

“You, the same man that never leaves his house unless it’s business or football related. And sometimes due to a forced social activity, or occasionally to have fun, wants to leave Ohio? You’re practically a turtle that stays in its shell all day,” you say before going back to your work project.

Joe is slightly taken aback by what you said. Deep down he knows you aren’t wrong, he doesn’t go out very often, which made what he said next even more necessary.

“Let’s go to the Bahamas this weekend. I can call up Ted and get a jet here and we can leave Friday morning. I’m thinking we stay at a lowkey house on a private beach for maybe 4 days,” he says.

You think he’s just messing with you but when you look over at him, he looks serious.

“Where is this coming from?” you say with worry in your voice. In the 5 years, you and Joe have been together, he’d never sprung an idea of a vacation on you by himself, it was always mutual. And you’d never left the States before either. You close your computer and turn to face him.

“I’m just so fucking tired,” he says with a sigh. “These past few weeks have been really intense and I just need a break.”

Your face drops as he continues. He’d been under so much pressure lately with OTA’s slowly approaching and training amping up; plus all the background noise. He’d start throwing in the next month or so and deep down he was nervous. He didn’t know how it was going to go and if all this rehab was even worth it if he was never going to be able to get back to where he was.

“And you’ve been stressed out all week because of work and it feels like we haven’t had just ‘us’ time,” he adds.

Joe was right. He’d be gone all day with either rehab or workouts and the only time you two would get together would be dinner. And by dinner, you’d be too exhausted to do anything but eat and rush off to bed.

You spend a few moments contemplating his offer. It would be nice to get away for a few days and you both needed the change of environment badly.

“Okay, let’s do it," you say with a smile as you pull him in for a hug.

“But just so you know, since we’d be leaving in 2 days, I’m going to be an absolute nightmare when it comes to packing,” you say before planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, I'm well aware. You only get 2 days to stress about packing and not a whole week like usual,” he laughs.

Thursday Evening

You both spent the majority of the day planning your impromptu vacation. You found the perfect beach house on the other side of Nassau, away from the main part of the island. It was hidden by palm trees and had a private beach which made it easy to unwind without any prying eyes. You would spend the week there and pick out a few activities nearby to occupy your time. You also chose a few places to eat although you both decided to cook at home for the majority of your stay.

Currently, you were sitting on your closet floor attempting to pack your suitcase but were majorly failing. Packing was never your strong suit, especially if you had to pack the day before a trip. The closet looked like a war zone, things were everywhere.

“This is the wrong time to not be able to find anything,” you say to yourself while getting up once again to hunt for missing items.

Joe walked into the closet and saw you frantically pacing back and forth looking for something.

“Babe, are you Okay?” He asked while sitting down on the stool.

“Have you seen my new white bikini? Or my sunglasses? Or my tank tops?” You asked, aggravated that you couldn’t find your stuff.

“I literally cannot find anything,” You added before giving Joe a look. He knew that look all too well, you were 1 misplaced item away from having a full breakdown.

He got up from the stool and walked over to where you were, put his hands on your shoulders, and said “Y/N you could wear a potato sack and still look amazing. Stop stressing about it, this vacation is supposed to get rid of the stress. Not add onto it,”

You let out a deep breath and say “You’re right. It’s just us anyway. I’ll just pack some nice dresses and stuff whatever in the suitcase,”

“The fewer clothes the better,” Joe smirks and says before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips.

“You’re insatiable,” you say against his lips.

After you finish packing your suitcase, you get ready for bed since you have a fairly early flight. It took Joe about 15 minutes to pack his things, which came as no surprise since he is the biggest outfit repeater you know. You’re just about ready to doze off before you feel Joe’s hand creep up your leg and squeeze your thigh.

“Mmm Joe not right now,” you say half asleeply. “Go to bed,”

“Not that,” he states. “I can’t fall asleep,” he mumbles.

You let out a sigh before turning to face him. No way you’re getting any sleep now. “What’s wrong,” you say as you move his messy curls out of his eyes.

“I don’t know, I just can’t fall asleep,” he says.

You knew Joe too well to know when something was bothering him. His confession earlier was only the tip of the iceberg. Something was bugging him and you needed him to talk to you.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours,” you say as you play with his curls.

He stayed silent for a few heartbeats, not knowing if he should unload his heavy thoughts on you right before a vacation. But he knew that it was just you. You’d always listen to whatever he had to say, no matter the time or place.

“Just everything.” He says, meeting your eyes. “Rehab has been going great and training has been too, and I should be happy about that but I just can’t get rid of that feeling,”

“What feeling?” You question.

“Feeling like I won’t be good enough. I know what people are saying; overpaid, overrated, no rings, injury-prone. And they aren’t wrong. I don’t have anything to back up why people think I’m a top 3 quarterback,”

Your heart breaks as he continues to talk. The fact that Joe feels like he isn’t good enough is mind-boggling to you. He’s one of the best damn players you’ve ever seen and you wish you could do something to get rid of his doubts, but you knew that that was something he had to do on his own.

“But you do have things to back it up. You had one of the greatest college football seasons ever. Winning the Natty and the Heisman was only the start of your legacy. You were drafted by an organization that was in desperate need of saving and you made an impact that not many could have done,” you say as you see a small smile on his face.

“You had a shitty rookie season with tearing basically everything in your knee, but you worked hard and came back better than ever fucking before. You went on and led the team to their first playoff win in 30 years and went to the fucking Super Bowl in your first full season,” you add.

“Yeah, you didn’t win. But you put the entire league on notice and showed them who the hell you are. And then you did it again next year even though you didn’t go all the way. This past year was rough and didn’t go the way anyone would have expected, but this is part of what makes you, you.” you say with a smile as he stares deeply into your eyes.

“You thrive when there’s adversity. It makes you work harder for what you want and it always pays off one way or another. You always come out better and stronger. You are a great quarterback and are absolutely more than good enough. You’re going to have your moment soon, and I know it,” you conclude.

Joe stares into your eyes for a few more heartbeats. You knew exactly what to say to bring him back down from whatever cloud he was stuck on and he was so thankful for you.

“I love you,” he said as he pulled you onto his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

“I love you more, always,” you laugh as he kisses the hell out of you.

You two spent the rest of the night in each other's embrace. You finally felt at peace once you heard Joe’s soft snores fill the room and finally got some sleep.

Friday

You both got up pretty early for your flight, taking a quick shower before packing the car and heading to the airport. After boarding the plane you both took off your shoes, pulled out your fav blanket, and got comfy.

“Are you excited?” Joe beams.

“Excited is an understatement, Burrow,” you smirk. “Getting you out of Ohio might be my favorite part,”.

“I’m so looking forward to getting some sun and swimming in that big pool,” he says, referring to the massive pool that’s a part of the house you rented.

“It’s like you’re a whole new person,” you smile while leaning your head on his shoulder. He smiles and kisses your forehead before pulling out his laptop to turn on a movie.

“Oooo what are we gonna watch?” you excitedly question.

“I was thinking of either ‘Grown-Ups’ or ‘21 Jump Street’,” he responds.

“Hmm, let’s do Jump Street, it’s been a while since we watched that,” you say.

You spent the rest of the flight watching movies, playing a few card games, and eventually taking a small nap before the plane landed.

A few hours later

After the plane landed, you both drove to your house for the week and it was like something out of a fairytale. The house overlooked the beach and the crystal blue water. Lush green palm trees surrounding the house provided ample privacy, especially for the large open pool in the backyard. You two settled into the house before changing into your swimsuits for a nice afternoon dip in the pool. You did end up finding your new white bikini, which was perfect for the occasion.

Joe walked out of the bathroom and saw you brushing your hair in the mirror. His eyes trailed down to your bare legs, up to your perfect ass, then to your toned stomach, and straight to your chest. You looked so sexy and he was in heaven. He walked up to you and hugged you from behind, his warmth causing you to melt into his arms.

Your eyes met his in the mirror, “Like what you see, Burrow?” you teased.

“Absolutely,” he chuckled as he swayed you two back and forth, pressing a kiss on the back of your shoulder while sliding his hand down to your ass. Joe was grinning like a love-struck fool as he watched you close your eyes and melt into his embrace. He was making you feel more relaxed than you’d ever been before and you both were loving it.

You both ventured out to the pool and sat down on the pool chairs, hoping to get a quick tanning sesh in before a swim. A few minutes in, Joe found himself staring at the pool when he got an idea.

“I’m gonna jump into the pool,” he casually said.

You quickly turned your head to him and said, “Are you crazy, the water will get everywhere,” You gasped.

“It’s just us though, nobody around to complain. Besides, I can’t do it in the pool at home since we spent way too much money on redoing the backyard. At least here there isn’t any vegetable garden at risk of being destroyed,” he smirked before quickly running back to the patio door and launching himself into the pool, not giving you a moment to lecture him.

The water did in fact get everywhere but it was worth it when you saw Joe come up from the water. He shook his head back and forth to get the water out of his hair before he took his hand and attempted to slick it back. Your eyes navigated to his muscular chest which had stray water droplets sliding down his abdomen, back into the water. God, he looked so hot like this.

“Like what you see, Burrow,” he teased as he noticed your expression.

“Yes, in fact I do. Very much actually,” you say while getting off the chair. “And I’m not a ‘Burrow’ yet, still gotta wait a few months before that,” you say as you make your way into the pool.

“Well, you’re practically already my wifey sooo,” he trails off before swimming over to the steps and helping you into the pool.

You giggle at his words. He couldn’t wait to marry you and he never failed to make it known.

You immediately latch onto him when you're in the pool. This was pretty normal for you both. You’d always use him as a floatie and make him do all the work while you just lay on him and relaxed.

A few moments later you release yourself from his embrace, making him slightly confused at the sudden loss of contact.

“Y/N come back,” he whines out.

“Someone’s clingy today,” you say while playfully rolling your eyes and swimming away from him.

He stared at you for a few moments, a sad look on his face while you continued to swim around and away from him. You felt bad that you’d left him hanging but you were having too much fun teasing him.

“Come and catch me shiesty,” you yelled. He hated it when you called him that. That nickname was only for football-related individuals to use and he thought it was a little cringe whenever you would use it. Not in a bad way, it’s just he preferred you calling him other names that football-related people can’t use. You knew how he felt about it but you also knew that this would for sure set him off.

“Oh you’re done for,” he playfully growled before swimming after you. The pool was massive so you had just enough space to get away from him.

You two were swimming circles around each other, occasionally splashing water into each other's faces in hopes of catching each other off guard. Your arms began to get tired of swimming around so you stopped by the ledge to take a breather while Joe was settled on the other side of the pool.

Before you knew it, Joe had swum over to you and pulled you back into his arms.

“Got you,” you whispered against your ear.

“I guess you did,” you whispered back.

“You look absolutely gorgeous by the way,” he said looking down into your eyes. “I love this bikini on you,”

You blushed at his sweet comments. He never failed to tell you how pretty you looked.

“Ya know, I look even better with it off,” you tease.

Joe’s face dropped immediately when you said that. He’d been horny since he saw you in that bikini but had to compose himself since you both were looking forward to swimming in the pool. But now that you’d gotten your swim time in, nothing was stopping him.

He slowly pressed you against the wall of the pool and kissed his way up your neck right up to your sweet spot.

“Joe,” you moaned out.

“What baby?” He asked, knowing exactly what you wanted.

“I need you,” you whined.

He looked at you momentarily before lifting you out of the pool and rushing you inside to the large bedroom. You let out a squeal as he pushed you back onto the bed. Joe climbed over you and situated his body in between your thighs, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You stayed kissing each other for a few minutes before you felt something hard poke at your stomach.

“Getting eager now aren’t we,” you tease.

“Please, I’ve been waiting to get you in this bed since I saw you in this bikini,” he grinned.

“Then I suggest you do something about it,” you replied.

Joe smiled and started to untie the strands of your bikini top before tossing it to the side. He kissed his way down to your perfect breasts, swirling his lips around your sensitive bud which caused you to let out a breathy moan.

“Joe,” you moaned out while shoving your hands in his hair.

He spent a few moments sucking on your breasts before he continued his way down. He pressed a few sloppy kisses on your stomach before eventually making his way down to where you needed him the most. He slowly peeled off your bottoms which was driving you insane.

“Joe please,” you whined out.

“Patience is key, baby,” he teased.

He threw your bottoms to the side as he made his way back up to your heat. “You’re so wet,” he says while ghosting his fingers over your folds.

“Joe I swear to god-,” You suddenly felt his warm tongue lapping at your folds which caused you to let out another moan, “Ohh Fuck”.

He buried his warm tongue inside your core as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. He moved one of his hands up to cup your breast as the other was firmly on your thigh. Joe moved up and started to rhythmically suck on your clit which made you see stars; something which he made you see often. “Joey, fuck don’t stop,” you said breathlessly.

“You like that?” he chuckled against your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. Those 3 words always managed to get you more horny than you already were. "Yeah," you whispered.

He went back to lapping at your folds as he used his thumb to rub your clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers was sending you over the edge. You started to arch your back which caused you to lift your hips slightly but Joe pushed them back down as he continued to send you into a frenzy. You fisted your hands into his hair and started to pull on the loose curls which caused Joe to let out a soft moan against you.

“Joe I’m so close,” you whispered as you pushed his head closer to your core. You felt a familiar warmth in your belly as you were moaning Joe’s name out (which was driving him insane). Joe thrusted one of his fingers into you, causing the imaginary rubber band in your lower belly to snap; feeling a familiar gush of liquid pool below you. You were overcome with a feeling of pure pleasure and satisfaction as he cleaned up your mess with his skillful mouth. He pressed delicate kisses on the insides of your thighs before moving back up and pushing his lips against yours again.

“You’re so hot,” he said in between kisses.

You felt a blush creep up on your face. “I’m flattered Mr. Burrow, but have you seen yourself”.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before going back to kissing you. You stopped kissing him after a few moments and said “Joe, I need you inside me.”

“Your wish is my command babe,” he replied as he pulled down his swim trunks and threw them to the side. His cock was rock hard and the sight of it had you sizzling with anticipation.

Your core was slick with your arousal which made it easy for him to push his dick into you. The tip slowly teasing your folds before he buries himself inside of you, causing you to let out a loud moan. You will never get tired of the feeling of him inside you.

He started slowly thrusting into you which made you wrap your legs around him, wanting him deeper asap.

“Joe, Fuck,” you moaned out. “Faster baby,”.

He began snapping his hips against you, faster & harder than before. “God, you feel so good Y/N,” he moaned out. You brought him in for another kiss, this time quick, messy, and sloppy. He continued thrusting into you and you bucked your hips each time to match his movements. The sound of your arousal and skin-hitting skin filled the room as you two were caught up in the euphoria that was happening between you.

Joe buried his face into your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, as your hands found themselves in his hair again. You were on Cloud 9 right now and it was all because of him.

“Joe, don’t stop. Shit, you feel too good,” you moaned. You felt him move deeper inside of you as he repeatedly hit your cervix.

He continued to pound into you, making you feel like nothing else mattered but this moment. You both felt your arousal building up, begging to be released.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m close,” he panted as he slowed down.

“Me too,” you whimpered.

He picked up the pace of his thrusts once again, this time moving one of his hands down to your heat, toying with your clit. “Fuck,” you moaned out for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered. You felt your walls clench around him, signaling you were almost there. Joe felt you clench around him and pinched your clit which set off your orgasm. Your chest heaved up and down as you whimpered out his name while seeing stars again. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his pleasure.

“Y/N,” Joe moaned out. You knew he was close by the way his thrusts started to become sporadic.

“Come on baby,” you encouraged while pulling at his hair and kissing his neck.

After a few rough thrusts, Joe let out a loud moan as you felt hot spurts of his cum fill you up. He collapsed on top of you as you both panted, needing a moment to recover after the workout you two just had. You moved one of your hands to his back, softly sliding it up and down to help him relax.

“I love you,” he softly said as he kissed your cheek, making you smile.

“I love you more,” you whisper in his ear as he buries his face into your neck again.

The next day

The next morning was pretty chill for you both. You had breakfast at the local beachside cafe, stuffing your faces with delicious fresh fruit from the island before embarking on a pleasant morning walk on the beach.

“This is nice,” Joe says as you both walk hand in hand alongside the water, a content look on his face.

You look up at him and smile, “Very nice,” you giggle. “Although, I don’t know how you’re not uncomfortable with walking on the beach in shoes,” you question while looking at your bare feet and then his shoes.

“You never know when a crab might come up and pinch your toes,” he says with a straight face.

“Righhhht,” you say while relishing the feeling of sand between your toes.

“So, what should we do today? We pretty much have the whole day since we’re cooking at home tonight,” he says while squeezing your hand.

“Hmmm,” you wonder for a second. “We could go out on one of the boats?” you carefully question while looking up at your fiancee.

Joe did not like going on boats. He hated the idea of being out on the open water with no way of getting back to shore other than using the boat. He always questioned what you would do if the boat broke down or even started sinking. You always told him the sinking part was highly unlikely, but you blamed yourself for that worry because you’ve made him watch Titanic with you one too many times. He also didn’t like how you couldn’t see what was in the water. But lucky for you, the water in the Bahamas was crystal clear.

He stayed silent for a few moments, making you a little sad since you wanted to experience something new with him.

“Let’s do it,” he says while flashing you a smile.

You looked up at him, a little surprised. “Really?” you beam.

“Yes, now let’s go before I change my mind,” he says before stopping to pick you up. He doesn’t give you a moment to respond because he throws you over his shoulders causing you to let out a squeal. He leads you both back to the house so you can get freshened up.

You both got changed into your swimsuits before walking over to the docks and renting a boat for the day. You weren’t sure how you managed to get Joe to go on the boat, but you certainly were not complaining.

The driver had taken the boat not too far from shore, which kept Joe’s mind at ease. You swam in the water for a little bit and enjoyed a few drinks.

“Mmm, this like the best Mai Tai I’ve ever had,” you say while taking another sip. Joe was currently in the water in front of you, while you were seated on the steps of the boat, legs partially in the water.

“Come in the water,” Joe says while splashing some water onto you.

“Mmm, I think I’m good up here,” you tease while placing your drink to the side.

Joe swam closer to you and said “Nope.”

You were confused at what he meant but then you felt his wet hand wrap around your wrist.

“Joe, don’t even think about it,” you playfully growled, knowing exactly what he was about to do. He didn’t listen and pulled you into the water, causing a big splash. You came back up to the surface with a frown.

“Someone’s mad,” Joe laughs. You swim over to him while he is fully anticipating an ass-kicking but is pleasantly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

You laugh and say, “If this is mad, let me be mad more often,”.

A few hours pass and you both are sitting on the boat in the net seating area that was right above the water. Joe had put on one of his many bucket hats and shades and was laid flat against the net, soaking in the golden sun. You were applying another layer of sunscreen before noticing his chest turning red. You knew he’d be a pain in the ass if he got sunburnt so you took the bottle and moved closer to him.

You squeezed out a dab of sunscreen and started applying it to his chest. He flinched at the sudden contact before realizing it was just you.

You felt him flinch and laughed, “Daydreaming, Burrow?”.

“Maybe,” he smiles while taking off his shades. He looks down and sees you applying sunscreen on him, “Oh, thanks,” he says while meeting your eyes.

You let out a playful sigh and say, “What would you do without me,”.

“For real,” he says. “I’d be walking around like a tomato,” he laughs.

After applying the rest of the sunscreen, you lay back against the net and Joe lifts one of his arms, motioning for you to curl up next to him. He rests his hand on the small of your back while you tangle your legs with his.

You lay there briefly, soaking up the perfect scene before breaking the silence. “Are you enjoying this? I know boats aren’t really your thing and I hope I didn’t force you into this,” you softly say.

“Of course, I’m enjoying this. I will admit, I was a little nervy when getting on but you’re here with me so I’m fine. Besides, If the boat breaks down at least we’d be stranded together,” he jokes.

“I guess that’s true. Better than being stranded with a bunch of randos too. I’m glad we could get a boat just for the two of us,” you reply.

“Yup. This isn’t as bad as I thought. I can see everything below us too so no risk of a random shark popping out,” he deadpans.

“Like that would actually happen,” you say while softly hitting his chest.

“You never know,” he says while shaking your shoulder in an attempt to scare you.

You spent a few minutes messing around with each other before the driver came out to tell you that you were heading back to the island. You both got up and sat on the bench, your back pressed into Joe’s chest and stared out into the open waters, taking in the view before it was time to go back. You were mindlessly sliding your hand along Joe’s leg while he had his arms around your waist, gently squeezing your soft skin. Everything about this moment was peaceful. Joe felt at ease for the first time in a long time and he had his favorite person to thank for it.

Once you got back to the house, you both took a nice shared shower before starting your dinner prep. Before arriving at the house yesterday, you had stopped at the local market to pick up some groceries.

“So, what are we making tonight,” Joe asked as he sat down on one of the barstools.

“I was thinking of shrimp-avocado tostadas and some of that wine we picked up yesterday?”

“Sounds delicious,” he said while rubbing his belly.

You let Joe fry the tortillas and make the avocado mixture while you cooked the shrimp and assembled the tostadas. While you were assembling the dish, Joe found a few candles in the cabinet and got an idea. He went outside to the backyard and set up the candles on one of the patio tables, setting the scene for a nice sunset dinner. He picked out a few flowers from the front of the house and put them in a vase to use as a centerpiece. He then poured the wine into 2 glasses, setting one on each side.

You had finished plating the tostadas and didn’t see Joe anywhere. “Joe? Where are you,” you yelled out.

“Out here! Bring the plates outside,” he yelled back.

You were a little confused but went along with it. You walked outside with your dinner and saw Joe setting the table and your heart melted.

“Joe, this is so romantic,” you cooed while putting the plates on the table.

He gave you a warm smile before pulling out one of the chairs for you to sit in. You sat down as he settled into the chair across from you. You both devoured the tostadas while making small talk about your plans for tomorrow. After you finished eating, Joe took the plates and set them inside; he suggested you both finish up your wine on the daybed since you would get a comfier view of the sky.

Later that night, per your suggestion, you and Joe were sitting in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles and a few candles. You felt so relaxed even though you’d only been here for 2 days, and it was all because of Joe.

“I’m glad we finally get to have ‘us’ time,” Joe says while rubbing your thigh under the water. “I missed just being able to sit with you and do nothing. This past month felt so repetitive, I feel like we barely saw each other,”

“Me too. We needed this,” you said as you pressed yourself into his chest a little more. Your back was to his chest and both your legs were tangled under the water. This was your favorite position; the warmth radiating off of his body felt like a big hug.

“Thank you for doing this by the way,” you add.

“Doing what?” He questioned.

“This trip. I needed it more than I thought I did. Getting away from home and the change of environment was much needed. I think if I stayed in Ohio for another day I might have spontaneously exploded,” you joked, causing him to let out a soft chuckle.

“Anytime,” he replied while kissing the nape of your neck.

“Do you feel better?” You asked. “I hope you were able to get your mind off of things. Your stuff was a lot heavier than mine,”

He lets out a content sigh and says, “Actually, yeah I do feel better. I think I just needed to get out of the chaos and get out of my head. This trip has helped me decompress and realize that not everything has to be so stuffy all the time,” Joe says.

“Exactly,” you chirp as you lean your head back to place a kiss on his neck.

“I can’t do anything about what people are saying, they’ll always talk. But what I can do is work hard to get back to where I’m supposed to be. And I won’t be able to get there if I’m constantly pressuring myself,” he says. “Letting loose and having fun is a part of that journey. I need that balance,” he adds.

“And this is a great start,” you say while smiling up at Joe

“Yes it is,” Joe says while pressing another kiss to your forehead.

You both had spent the rest of the night talking about the rest of your exciting activities planned for the final 2 days of the trip. You even talked about a few fun things you could do around Cincinnati when you get back home so that you could keep the work-life balance that you both so desperately needed.��

“This impromptu vacation might have been the best idea you’ve had so far,” you tell Joe as you both are about to fall asleep.

“We should get away more often,” Joe grins.

--The End--

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

414 notes · View notes

pedge-page · 6 months ago

Note

I’m absolutely IN. LOVE. with ur Joel/baby Sarah/wife!Reader masterlist and all their wacky adventures 😍🤪! When u have the time and if u feel drawn to the suggestion, I hope to see reader and Joel have a cute hubby & wifey moment (either before or after Sarah, ur pick) and not just Joel having high blood pressure all the time 🤣. Have an awesome weekend!!! 😘

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: My Wife, My Love, My Life

notes: thank you for the request! Decided to make this one after Sarah is born but the focus towards the end is Joel and Reader.

Warnings: Oral m!receiving, blowjob, facial, very brief unprotective penetration

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You didn’t ever think this day would come. Not now, not so soon at least, but certainly you had hoped it would never come.

Yet as you packed your suitcase, your eyes welled with tears. Your bedroom, the one you’d shared with your husband for years for every single night you two were together, was about to be foreign. No longer sharing his warm embrace, his caresses and morning kisses.

You were leaving him behind.

Memoriese placate your mind, routines and dents of the bed were about to be disrupted for the first time, and your heart ached at the idea.

Worst yet, you were leaving your own daughter, your sweet little angel who was not even one year old. She’s too young, should you even be separated from her at this age? How badly would this scar her? How much would she remember her own mother, who showed nothing but love and care and smiles for her entire existence, how much would that penetrate her memory of you as you abandon your family—

“Are you crying’ again?” Joel asks from the doorway. “It’s only a week!”

You sniffle and toss your blazer into your bag, avoiding him. “I don’t wanna go.”

You’re just traveling for a brief work trip just for the week then you’ll be back this time next Sunday, but STILL. All of those things hold true(ish), and it still hurts to have to say goodbye—

“Would you relax, honey. Christ.”

Even if your husband doesn’t care, you know Sarah will feel the pain of her own Momma leaving her behind with no reason she can possibly come to understand—

“You are so clingy and needy—“

JOEL WOULDYOUSHUTTHEFUCKUP I'MHAVINGAMOMENT, DAMNIT.

You sigh heavily and zip up the bag before lugging it to the ground. He raises his eyebrow as you storm by, his arms folded with a bemused smirk.

“Oh it’s funny to you? Guess you do want me gone—“

“It’s a week,” he reminds you firmly, his hands rubbing along bothy your arms. “It’s gonna be like a vacation for you!”

His words of encouragement suck ass because your ideal vacation is with your family. No, this was more like hell.

And Joel seemed to be loving every minute of it.

“Don’t forget ya moisturizer, oh and I packed ya some snacks for the plane. Plus some pepper spray, which you gotta put in your checked bag cuz they ain’t gonna let ya through security. Your passport is in your purse already…”

He was practically ushering you straight out the door. Running around the house like road runner, athering everything ahead of time, getting your little carry on and security tag and even breakfast quickly made for you to ‘make you not worry about a thing’.

No. The fucker was getting rid of you for sure, and glad of it—

“Stop sitting there with that face,” he says.

You sit down and shove your eggs in your mouth. “What face?” You snap.

“The ‘he’s intentionally trying to get rid of you’ one you got on right now. Just want ya to be prepared is all.”

You quickly wipe your expression but scowl at him when he has his back turned.

After breakfast, you kissed your baby goodbye. She was still sleeping soundly in her crib. Joel supervised you from the hall to make sure you didn’t try to sneak her into your purse so you could take her with you.

“Ok you have enough milk in the freezer and some already thawed in the fridge when she wakes up. You have teething rings, you know how to heat her bottle, you have her burp blanket—“ you list each one on your fingers as he backing you up to the car.

“Yes,yes,yes,yes! Honey, I got it all—“

“I bought groceries already for the week —“

“And if ya missed anything, I can go grab it myself. I can cook, you know that. Got ya in bed with my food before so—“

“Joel I’m serious.” You stop him. but as you think it over, you know he’s right. He’s like a pro at taking care of you and Sarah. You’re just trying to avoid the feeling that she’s gonna miss you gone.

Maybe she won’t even notice you're gone…

Joel catches your eyes faltering, lips trembling as water shines in your eyes.

“Nonono! It’s gonna be okay.” He hugs you, his soft hands securely stroking your back until he can feel you breathe slowly again.

“I know I know. I’m just. I’m gonna miss you both.”

“The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back,” he hums reassuringly.

You pull away and frown. “Definitely looking forward to getting rid of me—“ you seethe under your breath.

“OH GET IN THE DAMN CAR.”

Joel just got the text from you that you on time and safely boarded onto the flight. He knows you’ll be out of contact with cell service for the majority of the week since you were going to be out of the states, so he’s glad you were able to message him this last time.

And while no he was NOT glad you were leaving, he wasn’t complaining either. You needed some alone time. You were preggo monster for 9 months and now non stop mom ever since. He could tell from the bags under your eyes and short temper that you needed a little vacation. It didn’t matter if you realized it or not. This conference was a blessing in disguise. There would only be a few hours a day of work stuff, then you could go to the pool, the gym, get a massage, anything you wanted was included.

And he’d get some fantastic quiet time without your nagging just for a little. A mini vacation for him too for the first time in…well, ever.

A win-win for you both.

Sarah was just rousing from her sleep, stretching her arms wide with a big yawn and wiggly toes. He sends a quick pic of her with her hazy eyes before scooping her up.

“Ready for some food, girlie?” He nuzzles his face into her chest, and she giggles happily.

It takes probably 5 minutes of Sarah sucking down her bottle in her high chair on her own before she’s looking around the strangely vacant house.

“Mum-ma?” She asks curiously, just as Joel returns to dump some cereal on her tray.

“Mommy’s left to go go on a trip. Just you and me this week, kid.” He rubs her head affectionately.

Joel really didn’t expect Sarah to fully grasp anything he says, but evidently she did understand “mommy” and “left” and that was it.

Her face scrunches up and she immediately launches into the loudest cries known to man.

Joel was prepared for this. “Okay, okay Sarah, I know, you miss Momma,” he grabs a host of items: her pacifer, her bunny stuffed animal, her favorite chocolate that you told Joel she couldn’t have but he whips out for energencies like this. Even with his smiling face level with her pained one, wiggling each item excitedly, nothing seemed to be doing the trick. If anything, she wailed longer and harsher, kicking the table and slamming her bottle down until it rattled to the floor.

He eventually picks her up and tries rocking and bouncing, but she just shakes her head furiously. Her face is all red, fat tears dampening her little cotton onesie, with one hand scrunching his shirt and pushing him off. “You get this drama queen shit from your mom,” he tuts.

He sets her down on the floor, and Sarah immediately starts crawling towards the garage door, pointing to Joel to open it.

“She ain’t there, baby. She’ll be back—“

She screams harder, aggressively patting the door and looking back at him like she’s pleading.

He scoops her up again and takes her to the living room. He’s running out of ideas to get her to settle. Checked her diaper just in case, rejected any food, all toys were no hope. He was gonna lose his hearing at this rate.

Joel thought it would take at least the rest of the day before she would notice but this shit might be harder than he thought. If she kept huffing and puffing to keep taking a scream, or shed any more waterfall of tears, he’d have to take her to the hospital for dehydration and shortness of breath.

Sarah crawls over to the couch and yanks on the dangling blanket, pulling down pillows all over top her. He chuckles as she disappears into the mound, but can see her little form navigating from the top. Finally, the sandworm baby stops moving, and he notices her crying desist.

“Oh shit. I already killed her.”

He gently pulls pillows away until he finds Sarah with her face down, diaper bum up and her nose buried in your favorite blanket. She was smelling your scent, and that seemed to calm her almost immediately. Joel sits down and pulls the blanket free, and Sarah panics, reaching out for it desperately. He hands it back to her, and she grips it tightly, pushing her face into the soft coziness. It was still slightly warm with your body heat. Since you use it every time you’re in the living room, it smelled exactly like you.

Sarah takes a deep breath, clearing her cries. She crawls into Joel’s lap and tugs as much of it as she can along with her, sitting down between his thighs and cuddling the blanket around her.

Joel grabs the other end and smells it, and your scent floods his brain with endorphins. “I miss her too, bubba.” He leans and plants a kiss on her head, giving her the pinky back into her now accepting mouth.

She continued to play with her toys on the floor, blanket right next to her everywhere she went. Sometimes, she would just pause and nuzzle her face into it, sighing deeply and then continuing. Even Spoon was feeling the effects. Curled up by the door, whining occasionally, but otherwise just guarding the entrance, waiting for your return. Joel even pitied the big girl and allowed her on the bed so she could curl up into your spot.

Sarah was on her best behavior as much as she could be. She only cried when she was hungry or needed changing. She understood there’s no humor in bullying Joel unless you were here to punish him.

Things were going great so far for him.

And Joel felt pretty relaxed too. He could catch up on some programs, get some work done, go to bed when he needed it. It was peaceful.

But it wasn’t until a few nights in that he noticed life wasn’t as dandy. And it wasn’t Sarah that was making it evident.

It was him.

As you board your flight back home, nothing brings you more peace of mind than imagining walking back into your house.

Joel was right, this was somewhat of a mini vacation. And while it was nice, the bed wasn’t right. Didn’t matter how much money they spent on the king sized memory foam body conforming mattress with silk sheets and pressure release pillows. It just wasn’t the same as the 10 year old spring queen sized mattress that you and Joel had been cramming your asses on since you moved in together and the flat-no shape pillow that you had since you were in college. No amount of Michelin star chef prepared meals could match Joel’s empanadas and rice.

There wasn’t even anything to compare to being curled up with Joel and Sarah on the couch, watching tv until you both fell asleep in his strong, secure arms.

So in the end, you were right (as always). And damned be Joel, but you wouldn’t be listening to him ever again. If you have to go on a trip again, you’ll just bring them along or quit your job. Easy peasy.

Part of you wonders if he was still having a superb time away from you. Doing all kinds of work around the house without you nagging or asking for dinner, or having him fetch a billion snacks for you because you’re too lazy to get up, or rub your feet or your back or your calves or your clit, or getting a blanket or turning on the fan…damn you were annoying as well. And he does it all. He’s probably gonna see you walk in and sigh disappointingly, joking that he wished it lasted longer. You wonder if he and Sarah now morphed into best of pals, and she no longer considered you her #1.

Oh fuck, I’m gonna start crying on the damn plane.

By the time you landed, you couldn’t get in touch with Joel. you had received a text selfie image of him and Sarah smiling with the caption “Can’t wait to see you!”. You smile to yourself. God, you’ll risk getting a ticket just to speed home right now.

1.5 hours after you drive home, you open the familiar door. The aroma of home surrounds you, and you couldn’t be happier.

As does a squealing baby being carried by your big ass husband, who both immediately attack you out of thin hair with warm hugs. Spoon wags excitedly beneath you.

You nuzzle yourself into Joel’s neck just as Sarah nuzzles herself into your chest. The four of you stand there for moment, eyes closed and silently grateful.

And wafting.

Joel and Sarah’s noses and Spoon's especially were twitching and sucking in air against your skin and clothes, more so than hugging you.

“Oh are we…we are smelling me…” you say matter-of-factly but a little confused. Shit do I smell that bad??

He’s about to say something when you snatch Sarah and begin talking to her. She comfortably hands on your hip as you two chat (well, more like you chat and she babbles excitedly but you return the audience). It was late, and as you rocked her to sleep in your arms, you set her down in her crib, rubbing her belly softly as she soothed to sleep.

You close the door behind you when another hand gently clasps yours.

Joel doesn’t say anything, which surprises you. He’s more stoic than usual. He takes you down the hall and into your bathroom and turns on the tub.

He starts shucking off your clothing without a word. Shirt over head, then bra clasp, pants unzipped and dragged down. you can’t even stop him, he’s so gentle yet determined. and truthfully, you didnt have it in you to give him return home sex he’d probably been missing.

“Joel,” you say softly, and he shivers. “Um, I’m a little tired, but I promise tomorrow I will—“

“Tub,” he commands.

You tilt your head in confusion but step into the basin, now stark naked. The water is just perfect. You sink in until it’s level with your chest. Joel mixes in some suds and pulls his mini stool next to the edge, and begins massaging your shoulders.

“Oh honey you don’t need to do that,” you insist. “I got a massage when I was there…”

He doesn’t say anything but keeps going. And it’s not until he really finds your sensitive areas that you realize you do, in fact, need this. You sigh contently as he works the particularly troublesome knots in your shoulders, then gently over your neck. His hands, god you miss those hands, feel like heaven. After a few moments of you letting out soft moans, he lathers your expensive ‘for rare occasion’ shampoo and begins slathering it in your hair. With exceptional care, he works his fingers in circles, and you can feel your eyes going cross eyed with the thorough job he’s spoiling you with. Your whole body feels relaxed like a warm sheet of butter folding into a decadent pastry. You simmer and sink down even lower, indicating you’re incredibly tranquil.

He still remains silent. You can’t see him as you face the opposite end of the bathroom. Just the two of your breathing falling in sync.

Once finished, he pats you dry with fresh and warm towels, carries you bridal style to your bed.

You think now maybe he’s gotten you ready and pliant so he can rail your back out of place, but instead, he lays you on your side of the bed and tucks you into the sheets.

He tosses his socks and plows into the bed on his side, crawling up to you and putting himself face down into your chest and neck. He takes the biggest, longest breath possible through his nose before letting it out with a satisfied hum. Closing his eyes, Joel allows himself to relax, surrounding himself with you, his hand protectively over your stomach and absent-mindedly swishing back and forth with his thumb.

You giggle, smelling his sweet brown curls and rolling his hair through your fingers. “Did my clingy needy husband miss me?” You tease.

He’s already snoring and drooling into your breasts.

Joel’s having an out of body experience right now, and he can’t tell if he’s dreaming. There’s a fantastic, tingling, pleasurable feeling dancing along his entire body. He stirs slightly, letting out an audible groan. Something is warm against him, wet and moving, and it feels like a massage from heaven. He can’t exactly piece together what it is, still floating through his subconscious trying to rouse him awake, but still so blissfully relaxed he can’t quite fully awaken yet. He was out so deep last night in your embrace. Surrounded by your presence, your smell, your touch and breath and love and body.

His lashes flutter open, and the ceiling blur takes shape before him. He’s lying on his back in the bed, with something heavy against his lower half. sounds make their way to his ear, his own rugged gasps getting louder as the sensations more clearly are identified, sending signals of euphoria to his brain. He rasps out, eyes widening, and groggily tilts his chin down to see you; your mouth sloppily taking his hardened cock over and over, slurping the saliva and coating him with your talented tongue. You suck on his tip before working down his massive length, your other hand expertly jerking in rhythm what you can’t fit.

He chokes, still unsure if what he’s seeing and feeling is a dream. He hopes it’s not a dream.

The sounds from his throat cause you to peer up. A slight warm, loving grin tugging at your lips to make eye contact with him as you give him the morning blow job of his life.

And that does it for him. He yelps, stomach tightening before hot ropes of his seed shoot out of his tip like a canon. You bare down and suction your lips to his pulsing dick, feeling each throb deposit his sticky hot cum into your mouth. You gulp and gulp over and over, not nearly quick enough as his cream overwhelms you and bulges out of your cheeks. Even after you’ve coughed, his cock doesn’t stop, splashing all over your face in ribbons, one after the other, as he lets out drawn out moans, eyes rolled back and head arched into the pillow. He’s seeing stars, ruining your face like a mud mask of his spent. By the time he’s finished, he looks back down to see your slightly shocked expression, mouth agape with cum pouring down your forehead and eyelids, cheeks and chin, back onto his stomach.

He’s struggling to return from cloud nine. Brain hasn’t been this foggy even when high and drunk. He feels like sinking into the mattress and retiring from life.

You finally chuckle at his current state. “You didn’t get off all week did you?” He shakes his head side to side, eyes closed. You crawl up next to him, using his bedside tissues to wipe your face clean.

“I hope you liked it, I couldn’t wait for you to wake up—“

“Quit your job,” he says quietly.

He opens his eyes and rolls over to kiss your forehead and lie on top of you, his body conforming to yours. You feel his face nudged into your neck again as his back relaxes. You give him a confused look.

“I’ll take on extra projects,” he continues plainly. “Work extended nights. Just don’t leave us like that again.”

You cup his face in your hands to look at you. He’s sincere, kissing your palms and rubbing his cheek into your touch like a puppy.

You can’t help but smile.

“You missed me that much? Thought it was a mini vacation!”

He shakes his head. “It sucked,” he pouts like a child, hugging you tighter.

It was by the 4th night in that Joel realized it.

He prepared his solo meal quietly, served Sarah her mushy food quietly, and sat down at the table quietly. With only her little happy coos here and there, and him blowing on his own meal, he never realized just how quiet everything is without you.

Your chair was empty. Your side of the bed was cold. The house was so vacant without one person that it almost just feels like a building rather than a home. He realized he just gets up, feeds and talks to Sarah and spends time with her, then as soon as she’s in bed, he’s just. Existing. There. With nothing to do. He loved taking care Sarah, but she was pretty self sustaining. She was doing a hell of a lot better than he was. He tried busying himself with housework or TV or construction projects he had been wanting to do, but it all just felt like work. Like everything he did for himself was a chore.

He didn’t want to do anything if you weren’t there to see him by the end of the day.

He remembers when he used to thrive when he was living by himself. But he also realized… he hasn’t lived by himself in years. Since before he met you.

“You know I can’t quit my job, right?”

He grumbles but nods into your breasts.

“And I don’t want you taking on extra projects. I want to see you at the end of the day too. Tell you this: if I get another conference, either my family comes, or I don’t go. Deal?”

“Deal.” He kisses your chest before shimmying his way up your body until he’s fully over top you. “Otherwise I’ll tear your boss a new asshol—“

“Joel.”

“I’m just saying. Everyone wants to keep ya from me—“

“Joel.”

“N’ as your husband and baby daddy, I have a right to say where you put that ass every night and it should be right up against my di—“

“Just kiss me already.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He captures your lips with his hungrily. You feel his knees nudging yours apart, slotting himself perfectly between your bodies. The freshly hardened tip of his cock breaches your entrance, but Joel doesnt even let you gasp. His lips remain sealed on yours.

He wasn’t going to let you get away that easily again. Not even for a second.

- - - -

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

#joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #last of us fanfiction #joel miller fan fic #the last of us fic #last of us fic #tlou smut #the last of us smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel dealing with preggo wife

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arieslost · 10 months ago

Note

hi! oscar thought (or thot?): osc being super caring and soft during sex cause it's ur first time and he's just reassuring you and praising you the whole time and ur blushing so hard and he loves it 🤭

this genuinely had me giggling and kicking my feet in public omgomg.

18+ CONTENT under the cut, MDNI!

first time | op81

oscar makes such a big deal out of it that you’d think it was his first time, not yours.

you’ve talked about it already, of course, and set a date (at his request, so he could “make it special,” to which you argued that it would already be special because it’ll be with him. the compliment fell on deaf ears). you thought he’d go the traditional route of taking you out on a fancy restaurant type of date, but he just tells you to come over to his place, which you find yourself enjoying much more.

he gets you flowers, cooks you dinner, and brings out a carton of your favorite ice cream for dessert. afterwards, you wash the dishes together. it’s obvious that he’s trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible by keeping up with your usual domestic routine, so you kiss him to show your thanks, and when he goes to pull away you don’t let him.

“we’re not in a rush, honey,” he whispers against your lips when you slip your hands under his shirt.

“i know. i just don’t wait to wait anymore.” you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes and lightly running your nails over the ridges of his abs.

“alright, if you’re gonna look at me like that…” he shoots you a playful grin before picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom, kissing you all the while.

your nerves only start to sink in when his fingers hook into your underwear. it doesn’t bother you when he removes your shirt, or your pants, even. but your underwear is the only thing fully separating the two of you, and oscar immediately notices the shift in your demeanor.

“is this okay?” he asks, not moving his hand but leaning forward to kiss you again.

“yeah,” you say quietly, nodding your head.

he watches your expressions like a hawk, gauging every reaction you have to what he’s doing with his fingers. he makes you come embarrassingly quick, but you can’t be too ashamed about it when you see how your physical responses to his actions are affecting him.

“oscar, please,” you reach for his pants, but he stops you.

“not tonight, honey. just wanna make you feel good, yeah?”

“i want you to feel good, too.” you say, feeling your face grow hot.

“don’t worry about me, let me take care of you.” he sheds the rest of his clothes, rolls on a condom, and crawls on top of you, smoothing your hair back from your face and pressing a long kiss to your lips. “if it hurts, tell me and i’ll stop, okay?”

you nod again, unconsciously tensing up when you feel him pressing against your entrance.

“just relax, honey.” oscar whispers, lips moving from your jaw down to the sweet spot on your neck. “hold on to me.”

you put your arms around him and close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his lips against your skin as he starts pushing into you as slow as he possibly can. it’s more of a stretch, but the sting is still there, and you accidentally tense up again.

“sorry,” you breathe out, refusing to meet his eyes when he moves back a little to make sure you’re okay.

“don’t be sorry, you’re doing so well.” he says gently, lifting your chin. “just focus on breathing.”

you follow his instruction, regulating your breathing as he continues to push into you little by little until he’s fully inside you and you let out a sigh.

“feel okay?” he asks.

“mhmm. just- can we stay like this for a minute?” you ask, blushing harder from the awkwardness you’re sure the request is going to cause.

“‘course, honey.” he strokes your cheekbone with his thumb, tilting his head a little as he looks at you. “take as much time as you need. you’re doing so good.”

the praise makes you squirm a little as it goes right to your core and heats your body. oscar takes notice, and the playful grin is back.

“you like when i praise you?”

“maybe,” you mumble, sure your face is redder than a tomato at this point as you turn it away.

“look at me,” he coos, smiling wider when you listen. “that’s a good girl. such pretty eyes.”

“oscar,” you whine, pulling him closer so you can hide your face in his neck.

“pretty eyes, pretty mouth, pretty body,” he continues. “my pretty girl.”

you say his name again, but it comes out like a moan when he moves by accident.

“shit, sorry, baby.” he looks at you with wide eyes. “y’okay?”

“yes, please keep going,” you say, shifting a little to try and get him to move again.

he does, but continues to do it slowly, looking straight into your eyes as he does so.

you let out a little gasp when he begins to pick up his pace and hits a certain spot inside of you. “oh my god, oscar-”

“feel so good, honey. you’re so beautiful, doing so good for me.” he says breathlessly.

you can’t resist when he looks so good on top of you; you kiss him, threading your fingers into his hair. he moans into your mouth when you give his hair an experimental tug, allowing your tongue to meet his.

“oscar,” you say his name again when he hits that spot inside of you again, your jaw falling slack as he starts hitting it over and over again, keeping direct eye contact with you. you try to hold his gaze, but it feels so good that your head falls back against the pillow behind you. his quick reflexes allow him to grab the back of your neck so you don’t hurt yourself, his other hand going next to your head to keep himself upright.

“that’s it, baby,” he says, his lips skating across your collarbones. “you’re amazing, fuck.”

“i’m not even doing anything,” you manage to say, and he stops moving. “what-”

he tightens his hold on your neck, making you pick your head back up so you can look at him.

“look at me. really look at me.”

he looks like he always does: ridiculously attractive. but it’s something more. he’s covered in a light sheen of sweat, hair falling in front of his face, a bit of a rosy tint to his cheeks, and breathing heavily. he looks like a bit of hot mess, really. emphasis on the “hot.” you tell him that.

“i’m a hot mess because of you,” he laughs. “i have the most beautiful girl under me, wrapped around me, and you think you aren’t doing anything? i’m going insane right now, honey. i really don’t think i could be any more turned on than i am right now.”

“really?” you feel yourself blushing, again, at his words.

“really.”

“show me, then.” it’s your turn to give him a playful grin, and he groans.

“oh, i will. not even doing anything,” he mocks you with a scoff, and you don’t even get the chance to argue before he starts moving his hips again, reaching down to wrap your legs around his waist.

“holy shit, holy shit,” you babble, not used to the feeling enough for the sudden pleasure to be expected.

neither of you last much longer afterwards, and when you finally float back down to earth, oscar is there to kiss you and clean you up and wrap you in his arms.

“was that okay?” he whispers when the lights are off and he has you tucked in close to his chest.

“i don’t have anything to compare it to, but i guess it was okay.” he pulls away from you and you can just make out the how dare you look on his face. “i’m messing with you, oz. it was amazing. i love you.”

those three words have him melting back into you and pressing loving kisses to your temple and your nose in no time.

word count: 1,334 (wrote this in like two hours, it got away from me a bit lolz)

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: i hope this is okay and what you were imagining, you have the luck (or lack thereof) of being my first fulfilled request! lowkey hate the ending but its whateverrrr... im so obsessed with oscar guys its not even funny!!!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog

#aries answers #riv3rbank <3 #op81 week #full fic #request #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smut #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 smut #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine

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sxtaep · 2 years ago

Text

THE HATING GAME - JJK

working together with your biggest competition was not something you saw yourself doing often. but fucking him one late night at office? never in a million years.

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — angst, smut

word count — 7.2k

warnings/tags — lawyer!jk x lawyer!reader, enemies2lovers, dom!jk, sub!reader, swearing, provocation, insults, petty arguing, vague mentions of murder/strangulation, jealousy, teasing, lying, denial, tension x100, improvisation, touching, so much sarcasm, explicit smut, light bondage, grinding, neck kisses, nipple play, tit slapping, begging, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), cunnilingus, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, tongue fucking, dick slapping (face), edging, crying, slapping (like once), spanking, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), light pain kink, finger sucking, angry fucking, creampie, making out, cum eating, post-nut clarity, both very lost and confused by the end.

paired with this edit made by yours truly 🤭

a/n: hello and welcome to jahanara feeding into her office romance fantasies pt98583616 😭 please enjoy this very long and drawn out piece (similar to illicit desire) but more detailed, more descriptive and can be read as a stand-alone.

if you came from tiktok, hello and welcome to the dark side 😁 enjoy the long-awaited lawyer!jk au!

btw this fic has nothing to do with the book/movie called ‘the hating game’ the name just fit this ok 🙄

“We need to talk,” Jungkook’s voice causes your chest to falter as he enters his office, waiting for you to enter before shutting the door behind you and making home on the seat behind his desk.

“We can’t do this case.”

If you could burst out laughing right now, you would, but this was a professional work environment, “You invite me into your office, distracting me from my own work, just to tell me something I already know?” You make yourself comfortable in the seat opposite his, paying him a fake smile, “I don’t know why you’re panicking, we can easily get out of this. We can just say we have too much on our plate to take on a new case. There, done,” you shrug, leaning back in the seat without a care in the world.

Mr Jeon, your boss, thought it’d be a good idea to pair you up with Jungkook to work on a class case.

Why he’d even make that decision was beyond you. Neither of you got along well, trying too hard to one-up each other, spewing insults back and forth like there was no tomorrow. Failure to work well together in this case, you were both threatened with temporary suspension.

“Yeah, you’re forgetting one thing,” he says.

“What’s that?”

“My dad owns the fucking place.”

Yeah, your boss happened to be Jungkook’s dad, and honestly, it wasn’t such a bad thing. He was treated the same way as the other employees, sometimes a bit worse when it came to you.

You were his favourite employee, the absolute star of his team.

“He’s handed our current cases to another attorney so we can focus on this,” Jungkook groans, getting out of his seat to pace around your office as if he were going through a midlife crisis. He halts after a little dilly-dallying, “We should just take the suspension.”

"Pardon you, but I've got bills to pay, and I can't be having that suspension show up on my job record," you try to reason with him, but Jungkook didn't look very convinced. "Think about it this way…” you trail off, leaving your seat behind your desk to head over to him, standing confident in front of him, “When you're suspended, you're pretty much fired for an unfixed period.”

You were willing to work with Jungkook, just to get this whole thing out of the way, and there was only one way to get him on board.

Provoking him.

“I’m sure the Jeon Jungkook doesn’t wanna get suspended by his own daddy, right?” you taunt him, your voice getting quieter with each word.

Jungkook knew you were messing with him, and hated how you actually got under his skin, but with a defeated sigh, he agrees, “Fine, let’s win this case. How about we work on it over at your place? I’m sure you’ve got no plans for the weekend,” he scoffs, cocking a brow at your overly-confident form.

“I actually have a date this weekend,” you shrug, turning your back towards him ready to take your leave. “We can work on it later tonight, I’m leaving now.”

A date? There’s no way…

Jungkook is quick to rush to the door, blocking you from opening the door just as you reach out for the door knob. His arms were extended out to his sides, stopping you from leaving.

He needed to know who this guy was and why the hell he would go on a date with you of all people. “A date? Someone actually wants to sit and have dinner with you?” he questions, like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “He’s gotta be deaf or blind.”

Now, with shit like this, you’d walk away, but Jungkook rendered you trapped in his office, “Listen you conceited asshole,” your index fingers goes to jab at his chest and you have to force yourself to ignore how built he was under his shirt, “I don’t like you. Never have, never will. We’re all a bit different outside of work but I’ve restricted you from seeing that side of me because you don’t deserve it.”

It was a simple and truthful explanation, you hated Jungkook beyond words, neither of you had a relationship outside of the firm. Your work persona would definitely not attract a guy with how much of a workaholic you were.

You needed this date, as a break from all the hardships these cases brought you.

Jungkook pondered your words carefully. Maybe he was a bit iffy about not having a relationship with you outside of work, he didn’t wanna be just a “work colleague” or that “annoying guy from work. He had way too much pride for that.

“Now if you could please stop hogging the door, that would be great. I don’t think I wanna spend another minute with you in your office.”

“Likewise, Y/N,” Jungkook sneers as he steps away from the door. It doesn't even register to either of you that this could be counted as an argument. How easily you both bumped heads with each other would have to come to a stop now that Mr Jeon was keeping a keen eye on you two.

As the day comes to night, you were still locked away in your office, reading away at your newly appointed case details and taking brief notes. The details were… gory to say the least, and exceptionally hard to read, but being a lawyer, you’d gotten used to it, having read the worst of the worst during your career. It was pretty much a skill to read such gruesome and ill details of murders, kidnappings and assaults with a straight face.

You were lucky not to be the only one reading up on gore so late at night, Jungkook waltzing through your office without knocking (as he always did) with a cup of coffee in his hand. He doesn’t say a word and instead sets the cup on your desk and takes a seat opposite you.

You thought you were seeing things.

Jeon Jungkook buying you coffee? That’s a first.

You don’t say anything, reaching out for the cup and bringing it close to your lips, about to take a sip, but you stop.

“You didn’t poison it, did you?”

As the man was getting comfortable in his seat, he deadpans, “Seriously? What am I, five?”

“Mmm, you act like it,” you mumble, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of the coffee anyway.

Thankfully, you were still up and alive.

“Have you had a look at the case yet? It’s a lot of information,” Jungkook says absentmindedly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he propped his feet up onto your desk; a move you’d witnessed on so many occasions, you’d gotten too tired to reprimand him for it.

You set the cup down and speculate over the mess of paper on your desk with a sigh, “Yeah.. I think it might be the hardest we’ve gotten yet.”

You pull out a photo of the crime scene from under the file, sliding it towards him.

It was a very clear image of strangulation on the victim, faded blood and marks of red around the victim’s neck.

All caused by his own father.

“So what are we? Defence or Prosecution?” You’d usually decide this part on your own, but you wanted to hear his thoughts first and ensure he was on the same page as you.

“Easy,” his eyes dip down to your desk, analysing the photo, “We’re defence,” he decides with no hesitation, pulling on his tie to loosen it slightly around his collar.

“What? You wanna go Defence? Seriously?” You thought prosecuting would be the most obvious route to take seeing as the evidence pointed towards the father of the victim being the obvious murderer.

“I spoke with Jimin about it earlier and he also thinks Defence would be the easier route for us.”

“Oh, so it’s just Jimin’s word against mine now?” you arch a brow at him, tilting your head to the side, awaiting a bullshit answer from him.

From the tone of your voice, Jungkook knew you were slowly getting worked up, and quite frankly, there was too much at stake to be arguing when the case hadn’t even started yet. “You know what, we’ll be the Prosecution if it shuts you up.”

As long as you got what you wanted.

“So who’s taking you on a date this weekend?”

Jungkook’s sudden question surprised you. You couldn’t think of one valid reason as to why he cared.

“Um, you probably don’t know him, but his name is Jung Hoseok—”

“—I know him.”

Of course Jungkook knew him; the pair went to law school together but parted ways after Hoseok got a job as a district attorney in the states.

He only returned a couple years back after becoming a legal director at their opposing law firm.

You regretted giving away Hoseok’s name. Now that Jungkook, your absolute nemesis, knew your potential love interest, he was probably planning to absolutely shit talk you to stop you from finding love to feed his bitter self.

“I know Hoseok pretty well, actually. He’s not really fit to be a boss if I’m being honest,” Jungkook recalls, remembering many times back in law school when leadership roles in team activities were up for grabs and Hoseok would always steer clear of them. “Surprised he’s willing to date a bitch,” he snickers, waiting for you to cuss him out.

“Listen, you’re tired, I’m tired, I don’t wanna talk about who’s a bitch and who’s fit enough to be a boss… and it’s definitely not you.”

“Oh yeah? What does Jung Hoseok have that I don’t?”

“Compassion, respect, authority, control, not to mention, he’s quite the attractive man,” you shrug with a sly smile, continuing to boast about Hoseok and at the moment, Jungkook was regretting even asking in the first place.

He could be all that and more.

“But our relationship isn’t very deeply rooted. We’re not in love or anything, we’ve only been on one date so our relationship is at the minimum right now.”

Jungkook didn’t ask for a dramatic reading of your relationship, and he’d just about heard enough, “Yeah, whatever. Can you cook? You should cook for us this weekend. You know, get the brain juice flowing or whatever it’s called,” he stands up abruptly, stretching his arms above his head before heading over to your couch, slouching against the material as he looks over at you, awaiting an answer.

“Why would I cook for someone I hate?”

“You don’t hate me,” he throws back at you, a sly smirk adorning his features, “You pick fights with me and always get competitive, because when you overcome me, it makes you feel better about yourself.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, pondering his words a little.

Maybe he was right to an extent. Nothing felt better than being put against each other and reigning victorious. Everyone in the firm knew how competitive you both were and always steered clear of any kind of opportunity to compete with you.

You sigh and roll your eyes, “Hmm… Maybe I might just have a thing for you, who knows,” you respond casually, shrugging your shoulders just to mess with him a little. “But that’s what you want, right? Another girl to fawn over you?” you taunt him, keeping your eyes trained on him as you recall the number of women that had bombarded your office earlier today after you were counted ‘lucky’ for working with Jungkook, ‘the most attractive guy in the firm.’

Now that made him fix his posture, sitting up for what could only be the most predictable thing he’d ever heard, “Oh my god, I knew it,” he laughs, almost demeaningly, “Everyone and their mum has a thing for me, you’re no different,” he shook his head in disbelief, a large grin spread across his face. “So that’s why you always argue with me, huh? Just so you can talk to me? That’s cute, especially since it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you question, slightly offended.

“Because it’s gonna be fun having the Y/N, my biggest competition, falling in love with me, Jeon Jungkook. Imagine all the headlines that would make.”

God, he’s so full of himself.

As much as you hated how egotistical he was, you wanted to continue your little play act, rising to your feet and walking over to Jungkook by the couch and once near enough, you grab the end of his tie, leaning down towards him and pulling him close to your face with a deceitful smile gracing your lips, “Oh Jeon… You’re so smart, I can’t believe you figured me out so quickly…” you whisper, voice as soft as ever and something Jungkook had never heard before.

He couldn’t deny, your hold on his tie was probably the most attractive thing he’d ever witnessed, but he would never flat-out admit it to you.

Jungkook lifts his hand to gently rest against your cheek, merely trying to see just how far you’d go to keep this act up, “Mhm, I bet you like where we are now, don’t you?” he teases, his voice dropping several octaves and matching the volume of what was once your voice, now barely there as your mind went blank and his eyes proceeded to dance between your lips and your eyes.

Your cheeks had heated up drastically under his touch and you weren’t expecting him to make a comeback like that, and you really weren’t prepared to take things any further, but your pride would take a major blow if you backed out now.

Besides, the setting was perfect for that kind of moment; a near empty building, alone in the office, lights dimmed down, both tired and stressed out..

Your lips were mere inches away from his own and you could’ve kissed him if you really wanted to, and maybe, maybe you did want to kiss him—

No, that was the tense air speaking.

Just improvise.

“Mhm, this is exactly what I wanted…” you whisper, giving his tie one last tug till your foreheads were touching, “But I’m sure your hand can make-do in better places, don’t you think?”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, and you almost miss it, but it was enough of a sign to let you know he wasn’t expecting you to keep up. It wasn’t a problem for him though, the man was just as stubborn and prideful as you were, there was absolutely no way in hell he was gonna back down.

Not until you do.

“And what about yours, Y/N?” he challenges, eyes briefly peering down at your hand still gripping on the end of his tie, “I bet you’re really skilled with your hands, aren’t you?”

The real fun begins when the hand that was once resting against your cheek, drops a little lower, making home over the dip of your neck and Jungkook could feel your skin burn under his palm.

Your heart was racing as you discreetly pondered what he meant by that and once you clocked on, your body had stiffened, but you needed to seem unfazed, “Of course I am, probably more skilled than you at this point,” you shrug, gesturing towards his hand near your neck.

If he had the balls, he’d touch you somewhere more scandalous.

“Oh, is that right? You wanna bring my hands further down then, Y/N?”

Jungkook was testing you and your patience. If he thought you were gonna pussy out, he was wrong.

Your left hand grabs onto his wrist, right hand landing flat against his chest as you pushed him back against the sofa, and without even thinking of your next move, you impulsively make home on Jungkook’s lap, straddling his thighs as you adjust yourself on top of him. He watched on, slightly shocked and a little amused at the lengths you were going through just to prove a point.

With your hand wrapped around his wrist, you drag his hand down your body, slowly reaching your chest and stopping, “How about this?” you whisper, your voice on the verge of the faltering.

“Could be better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his blazer off his body, leaving it elsewhere and going back to his previous position, “Try this…”

He begins to pull his tie off around his collar, leaving it beside him for later use and then reaching up to unbutton his white dress shirt until hints of skin peeked through, “It’ll be better if you touch me yourself, but I’m sure you already know that since you’re so ‘skilled,” he says, his hands resting over your hips.

How long was Jungkook gonna keep this up? You were running out of ideas and though this was all a game, you couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit turned on, but how couldn’t you? You were sitting on his lap, your near-skintight skirt rolling up your thighs and you were almost certain he could feel the slight throbbing between your legs.

With one hand placed on his shoulder, the other reaching down to slip your hand past his shirt, your palms making direct contact with his built chest, God, you’re all talk,” you roll your eyes, leaning in to whisper against his ear, “Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?”

Jungkook throws his head back, eliciting a low chuckle, eyes meeting yours again as his palms made home on your thighs, squeezing your flesh enough to warm himself up, “If we continue, this won't be a game anymore…” he trails off, trying his absolute hardest to ignore the growing pain of his hardening cock under his slacks, “I won't be able to stop,” he continues, knowing inside he wanted this too, but was more than willing to back off if you seriously didn’t wanna do this, “Is this what you want?”

Fuck, of course you wanted this. Your body needed an output, some kind of relief. Just this once, you were willing to set aside your differences for what, ten minutes of quick relief?

You adjust yourself on his lap, your lace-clad cunt snug above his growing erection and you could've sworn you almost moaned at the contact. "Can you feel that?” you whisper, referring to the throbbing between your legs. "Is that enough of an answer for you?"

"Jesus Y/N," Jungkook nearly groans at the closeness. If he continued this game, he would cross a line that would be hard to come back from, and he was willing and ready to deal with the consequences to come.

With one swift move, he rests his fingers under your chin, tilting your head to the side to make room for his lips to attach to your neck, gently sucking and biting along your untainted neck didn't whilst he kept you distracted by the new sudden feeling of his large hands rocking your hips back and forth over his erection.

You elicit a soft sigh, eyes coming to a gentle shut as you basked in the soft pleasure, your soaked-through panties bound to leave a mark of your mess on top of him.

Jungkook pulls away from your neck, leaning back to admire your state; your cheeks were flushed pink, hair a little messy and a sheer layer of sweat adorning your chest, resulting in your blouse sticking to your body and arched a brow at you, “Take the shirt off for me, will you?”

You don’t hesitate to oblige, unbuttoning your mesh blouse with your eyes solely focused on him, and it seemed Jungkook had the same plan to just stare you down as you pulled the material off your shoulders, your well hidden assets finally coming in to view and Jungkook’s breath had hitched in his throat.

He didn’t know what came over him, or if he was just high in the moment, but you looked absolutely unreal; a simple yet stunning black lace bralette over your chest, your cleavage on full show and and it was everything he’d imagined. He inhales sharply, resisting the urge to just grab you, but Jungkook was a man of class (sometimes).

He gestured for you to remove the bralette and you did, hands reaching for your back to unclasp everything and let the material fall to your lap, freeing your tits right in front of his face and he was impulsively leaning in, briefly flicking his tongue over your hardened nipples before pulling away just to leave a ruthless smack over the expanse of your tits, revelling in the way your skin would redden and how your body would jump on top of him.

If he was feeling nice, he’d give in to you, give you exactly what you wanted, but to be frank, he wasn’t in a nice mood. He didn’t know if he hated you the way he did before all of this but God, was he gonna give you a piece of his mind..

Jungkook briefly slips his hand under your skirt and reaching between your legs, eager to feel just how soaked you were through your panties and boy, he was not disappointed.

Just mere talking and subtle teasing got you this riled up?

Clearly yes, your thighs were shuddering between his hand and you were almost embarrassed to be sitting where you were right now, “What are you waiting for?” you huff, frustration evident in your tone as you pulled yourself up to slip off your panties.

“I’m waiting for you to beg.”

“I’m not begging you—”

As soon as your panties were off, Jungkook was immediately pulling you back down onto his lap, now getting a real feel of your slick dampening his dress pants, “You’ll beg me, otherwise we can just wrap this up and call it a day…” he trails off, firmly gripping your hips as he pressed you down harder on his hardening cock, forcing a quiet moan to slip past your lips.

“Come on, Y/N… you know what you want, just tell me,” he whispers, eyes meeting yours and drinking in the irritation in them.

God, he loved irritating you.

Giving in just this once wouldn't hurt you, but you weren’t exactly the begging type of person, “I need your hands…” you manage to muster, your poor cunt practically leaking over his slacks.

“That’s not how you ask nicely,” Jungkook taunts you, throwing in a disappointed sigh, “Enlighten me, will you? How bad do you want them?” He leans back against the sofa, his hands rolling the hem of your skirt up over your thighs so he could have a clear cut view of your pussy, swallowing sharply once his eyes catch a glint of your flesh shining under the dim lights.

"Fuck you.." you grit. Jungkook stating the obvious was embarrassing for you; who would've thought Jeon Jungkook would be the reason for your desperation.

You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was enjoying tormenting you, and today was not gonna be the day you beg for him; you had far too much pride for that.

Instead of using your words, you grab ahold of his hand, guiding it down your body and between your legs. Once the pad of his fingers were against your clit, you wasted no time in rocking your hips against them. "I— I want your fingers inside me," you whisper against his ear, hoping he’d cut you some slack.

"Oh Y/N..." Jungkook shook his head disapprovingly. He quickly pulls his hands away to fetch his tie laying next to him on the couch.

You knew exactly where he was going with this and you were right; he’d grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your lower back, using his black tie to restrain your hands, and all you could do was shuffle on top of him, “I’d be careful when moving, wouldn’t want you to fall back,” he taunts you, a grin plastering his face as he pulled on the restraints one last time.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare you a minute to get used to the tie, his hand making home between your legs once again as he moved the pad of his fingers up and down against your swollen clit agonisingly slow, “Don’t you know your manners, Y/N? What happened to saying ‘please’ when you want something?”

You were falling apart on top of him, your hands clawing at nothing as you tried to remain composed. You felt absolutely hopeless, and giving in didn’t seem so bad right about now.

“I fucking hate you,” you seethe through gritted teeth, grinding yourself against his fingers seeing as his lace was too slow for your own liking, “Please, Jungkook…” it physically hurt you to say those words, feeling your cheeks swell up in embarrassment, “I wanna fuck myself on your fingers…”

Most certainly pleased by your answer, he doesn't waste any time, thrusting his index and middle finger into you so fast, a gasp was ripped from your throat. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Only a real slut would beg to get fucked by a guy she hates.”

His hands began to push in and out carefully, admiring your eventual fucked out state, "Fuck yourself on them, pretty," Jungkook instructs, gradually speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. "Or do you want me to curl them?"

It was a rhetorical question, already feeling him curl his fingers between your soft walls as you helplessly clenched around him.

It felt so good.

It was unfortunate your body was close to giving in, struggling to stay up on top of him but you tried to muster as much strength as you could to keep going, drowning Jungkook's digits in your slick as your hips moved up and down on his fingers at a similar pace to his wrist, “Jeon, I can’t..

"Oh? But you can argue with me, call me names, and make a fool of me in front of my colleagues?" Jungkook taunts, speeding up his fingers to a torturous fast pace that was sure to bring you closer to your high. "You can do all of that, but you can't fuck yourself on my fingers? What a pathetic bitch.”

He reaches behind you to untie the restraints binding your wrists together, letting the material drop to the floor behind you before he was picking you up and carrying you over to your desk, setting you down on the surface and pushing you to lie back ever so slightly as he dropped to his knees between your legs.

He split your legs apart, audibly groaning at the sight of your swollen pussy; clit peeking out and your tight hole desperately clenching around nothing. “Fuck… Look at that desperate pussy..” he mumbles to himself, fixing your legs over his shoulders as he leaned in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cunt.

A content sigh left fell from your lips as he used the tip of his tongue to toy with your sensitive bud, causing your thighs to shake around his head. The repetitive movement had your body tensing and the moans you’d been keeping to a minimum now at the max.

“So— so good..” you whimper, gazing down at him. With your hands free, they moved to grab at his dark locks, shoving his head further between your legs till you could feel his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit and good god, Jungkook would go to hell and back to drown in your pussy for eternity.

He let out a muffled groan, sliding his tongue between your folds and sucking on your clit like his life depended on it, but he needed to pull away if he wanted to live to experience that.

When Jungkook pulled away, you whined, but he wasn’t gone for long, suddenly delivering a harsh slap to your cunt that made your body jump and left your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It stung, but it felt so fucking good.

Pleased by your reaction, he did it again, this time only harder, “Oh, so Miss Lawyer likes getting her slutty pussy slapped?”

Before you could even respond, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip, not wasting another second before he’d spat right over your aching cunt, forcing you to arch your back off the desk as he watched the bead of spit trail between your folds in awe.

He leaned in again, shoving his tongue into your aching cunt and feeling your walls clench around the wet muscle almost as if you didn’t wanna let go and he found it beyond amusing, pulling away almost immediately just to spite you as he stood up to tower over your body; mouth glistening from all the slick and you couldn’t deny he looked like a hot mess.

What you didn’t see coming, was Jungkook grabbing your face, slapping you one as he squished your cheeks within his hold, forcing your lips to pucker as he spat into your mouth, the mixture of his saliva and your slick seeping down your throat as you swallowed with no hesitation.

He chuckled deeply, “Should’ve known an A class whore like yourself was into this shit. What do you think the jury would think about that, huh?” He continues to tug on your face, forcing you to keep your eyes on him so he could watch you break down before him.

Jungkook pulls you up and off the desk, standing tall and confident in front of you as you tried to regain a steady composure, almost stumbling.

“I don’t know how they’d feel knowing the slutty prosecutor got on her knees for the heir of this firm,” he starts, reaching out to wrap his hand around your neck firmly and pulling you towards him, “We should risk it and find out, huh?” he breathes out against your lips, low and hoarse and you had to squeeze your thighs shut from the flutters you were feeling between your legs.

“I’d rather throw dirt in my eyes than suck your dick,” you spit, shamelessly lying through your teeth and Jungkook immediately knew you were playing games.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” His hands shift from your neck to the back of your head, gripping a hand full of your hair and urging you to get on your knees and you did exactly that, making it easy for him to get you down as you tried your best to conceal the knowing smile growing on your lips but all you did was lick your lips up at him, anticipation clouding your eyes as you gulped.

The subtle action alone had his dick jumping in his slacks and he refused to wait any longer before unbuckling his belt and pulling pants halfway down his thighs, leaving a thick and oblivious imprint of his cock straining against his boxers right in front of your face.

You didn’t realise it, but your body was inching towards him and Jungkook took notice straight away, doing you the favour of pulling his cock out from its confines to stand tall and hard before you.

You were meaning to reach out for him, but he beat you to it, wrapping a strong hand around the base of his cock as he pumped himself between his fist a couple times, squinting at the little bead of precum eventually dripping down the base of his cock and you could only stare on in awe.

“You want my cock down your throat, huh?” he taunts deeply, moving forwards so he could guide the tip of his leaking cock across your face, nudging your cheek and avoiding all contact with your mouth.

Right where you wanted him most.

“Say it,” he lightly slaps the tip of his dick against your cheek, dragging it down to your lips but not yet pushing in, “Say you’re a cock-hungry bitch who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much…”

Submission was never your thing. You always showed yourself out to be a woman who always stood her ground, never taking shit from anyone. But now it was your worst enemy, proving you wrong on all of the above.

“I’m a cock-hungry bitch..” your words are there, but no confidence within them, “Who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much,” you mumble against the tip of his dick, hoping he’d give in to you.

Jungkook shrugs, “Could be better, but what more do I expect from a whore?” He suddenly pushes the tip of his cock past your lips, taking you by surprise as he groaned deeply, basking in the warmth of your mouth as he slowly eased himself into you inch by inch until he completely bottomed out.

You couldn’t handle his immense size, already struggling to breathe and he hadn’t even moved yet and tears were brimming your eyes.

“Tight fucking fit…” he seethes, slowly pulling out only to slam back into your mouth with brute force, each thrust pushing against the back of your throat and though you started choking, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You didn’t want him to stop; allowing him to use your head as assistance.

“Fucking made for my cock, aren’t you? A perfect fit..”

The only sounds that could be heard were Jungkook’s groans and the illicit sounds of your gagging and spluttering, a mixture of spit and precum leaking out the sides of your mouth.

"Gonna make better use of your pretty mouth.. and dumb you up so you'll never be able to throw all that fucking attitude at me again.." With no prep whatsoever, he impales your throat again, this time keeping your head at the very base of his cock, your nose brushing against his abdomen as your throat clenched around him, squeezing tightly to the point you could feel him throb.

“If this is the only way to shut you up, I’ll have you on your knees more often,” he looks down at you, watching the woman who stood so high on her fucking imaginary pedestal, now kneeling between his legs with her mouth stuffed full of his cock like a needy bitch.

Jungkook was damn near certain he almost came from the sight of you alone so he suddenly pulled you away from him, a thick and heavy string of precum connecting your lips to him leaving you a gasping, teary eyed, heaving mess.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you grumble, slightly annoyed by the sudden withdrawal as you hastily stood onto your feet.

“Oh, Y/N.. What am I gonna do with you?” he questions, sarcasm lacing his voice as he took a couple steps towards you just to grab your arm and turn you around; pushing you down front first against the glass surface of his desk.

You could barely make out what he was about to do, the side of your face pressed up against the glass but God, he was so close behind you, you couldn’t help but push back against him a little, whimpering at the sliver of skin-on-skin contact with him and Jungkook was all for your eagerness.

He spits against the palm of his hand, using the heel of his palm to reach down between your legs and massage your weeping cunt, briefly letting his digits dip into you before replacing them with his cock.

At last.

“Oh— fuck.. Jeon—!” You’re more vocal now than you were ever before, his size deeming you absolutely vulnerable as he pushed into you slowly. The stretch was beyond humane, he was practically splitting you open and your tears were suddenly making another appearance.

Jungkook felt like he was going through the seven stages of grief; not expecting you to be so tight around him and already so addicting, it was like a revelation for him.

“Pussy made just for me..” he groans, a palm aiming to land a harsh smack against your ass cheek, making you jump and the ongoing stinging sensation turning the affected area a light shade of pink which was bound to darken overtime. “All fucking mine—” he grits harshly squeezing the flesh of your ass as he continued to thrust in and out of your sopping cunt, “Fuck, look at your tight pussy just sucking me in… bet you like me shoving into your cunt, huh?”

“Uhghhh yes, yes! I love it so much!”

You loved the pain.

Each powerful thrust caused your body to repeatedly shift against your desk, again and again his dick slamming so deep into your guts you wondered if it were even possible to experience such a thing.

You could tell he was giving you his all; his muscles were tense, every vein in his body was popping out just so he could take out his frustrations on you. He dealt with your ass for three years; constant bickering, competitions, insults, but fuck him, if he knew you what got you going, he’d have fucked you way sooner.

“Bet you wished I’d come in and fuck you at some point, huh?” A smirk was lingering over his features, knowing well what your answer was.

“God— yes!” Your back forcibly arches against your will as you nod desperately.

Truth be told, you did look forward to his visits in your office just to argue with you. Arguing with an attractive man who looked even hotter when he was mad?

Of course.

“And everytime I’d leave your office, you’d sit in your chair with a wet fucking pussy all day, hoping I’d come back in just to fuck you, right? But God, why didn’t I do that?” he mentally curses himself, digging his fingers into your hips as his pace faltered, indicating he was losing traction.

“Fuck you for not making a move,” you hiss through tears, gripping at the edge of your desk for stability as his thrusts became sloppy and messy.

He lands another harsh smack against your ass, making you help in surprise, “Shut the fuck up, I’m not done,” he seethes, picking up the pace and knocking all other backtalk out of your lungs, "Every damn day, I've had to deal with your shit; talking down on me—" his words laced with anger as he slams in to you, "—flaunting your stupid awards in my face and walking around like you own the fucking place."

He abruptly pulls out, turning you over to lay back on the desk whilst he spread your legs apart, his cock slipping into you once more as his free hand settled a harsh slap against your tits, “Now I have you under me, crying on my cock like a little bitch. Where'd that confidence go, huh?"

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, to busy doing exactly as he’d stated. Your mind was hazy and your body was going numb, all you were capable of was squeezing your walls tightly around his cock as a sign to say you were close.

“Oh you’re close, huh?” Jungkook brings his hand down to scoop up the stringy mess connecting both your bodies, “We can’t have security walk in, can we?” lifting his hand again to shove three slick coated digits into your mouth in a bid to silence your moans as you came. “Come all over my cock like you were born for it.”

And thank god he did what he did because your pleasure filled cries would have woken up the entire city.

Your tongue lapped at his fingers, sucking off whatever was there before he pulled them out of your mouth, admiring the way they glistened under the dim lights.

You stared up at him in a daze, chest heaving and tits bruised red as he thrusted back and forth a couple more times before finally reaching his orgasm with a low bellow.

“Fuck…” he groans to himself and you could feel his warmth completely fill you up, some of it too much to the point white was leaking out of your sensitive cunt as he drained himself empty into you.

Once Jungkook was certain he was done, he slowly pulled out, his cock falling limp and his mess now prominent between your legs, noticing it was all slipping out so he did you the duty of using his fingers to push as much as he could back into you, the sensitivity making you shudder, “Can’t let it go to waste,” he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to his lips to sneak a taste.

It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen and he was pulling you to sit up on the desk before grabbing your case with both hands and kissing you with all his might.

It was unexpected but you were too in the moment to stop him. You could just about make out the distinctive taste of yourself and him on your lips and all you were wondering was how the hell you’d both come back from this.

Jungkook bit down on your bottom lip, dragging it out towards him before letting go and watching the plumpness bounce back, red and swollen like he’d left his mark on you.

“What did we just do..?” you whisper, finally drinking in the state of yourself and the absolute state of your office, papers everywhere and the smell of sex surrounding you.

Jungkook didn’t know what came over him, but he needed to reassure you one thing; “This probably wasn’t ideal but I don’t regret it,” he says, eyes glued to yours and curious to know if you felt the same way.

You didn’t know if you felt the same way, but you certainly weren’t feeling bad about it.

“You don’t have to say anything now, or put a label on it or anything, you can take your time,” he tells you softly, pulling away from you to pull his pants back up and tuck himself away. He was unsure whether you wanted to be alone or wanted to stay in his presence, but he figured he’d do what was safest, “Want me to clean you up and walk you to your car?”

Your hands adjusted the skirt that had been rolled up your hips, pulling it down to shield your thighs and the mess as you shook your head, “Oh no, that’s okay, I can take it from here,” you reply, this time giving him a genuine smile for his chivalry, one he’d never actually seen on you before and he wished he could see it more often.

Jungkook nodded and went to collect his shirt by the sofa, throwing it over his shoulder and heading for the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then for some case work.”

“Yeah, you too…”

He curtly nodded and headed out of your office with a sigh. He didn’t wanna leave you alone after that, but he wanted to avoid any intrusive/pushy questioning and awkwardness.

How the hell would you both ever come back from this?

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