#my dad wanted to start doing things immediately so he was calling and scheduling all day. we went to the funeral home we went to the store | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gutsby · 5 days ago

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Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.

Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.

The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.

You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.

With Joel, you could.

It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.

You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.

Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.

“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”

“Mhmm.”

“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”

“Lovely.”

Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.

“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”

For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.

“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.

He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.

Posing a question, maybe.

You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.

“I need $2,700.”

Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.

“$2,700?” he repeated.

“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”

The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.

“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.

“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”

You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.

I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.

However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.

Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.

At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.

Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.

“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.

You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.

Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”

You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.

It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.

“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”

“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”

It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.

But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.

So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.

You woke up wet.

In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.

Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.

Or steam.

Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.

“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”

As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.

And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.

You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.

Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?

You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.

“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”

The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.

And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.

He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.

“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”

In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.

Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me late—”

“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”

You’re good.

“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.

“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”

Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.

“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”

“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”

“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.

His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.

By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.

His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”

And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.

“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”

You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.

You cracked; it never took much from him.

For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.

“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”

“I know.”

Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.

Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.

Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Good girl.”

Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.

“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”

Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.

“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.

He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.

“Like this?” you ventured.

The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”

You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.

“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”

You did.

Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.

Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:

“In me, daddy. Please.”

You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.

And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.

“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”

You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up

“No,” you choked out.

This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.

In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.

“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”

You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.

This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.

Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”

The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.

“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.

You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.

You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.

“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”

Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.

“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.

Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.

Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.

“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.

And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’

Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.

“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”

You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?

“I’m here.”

Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.

He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.

You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.

“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”

“Kiss me.”

It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.

His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.

Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:

“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”

His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.

Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.

Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.

This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.

Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.

It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.

He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.

That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.

You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.

“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”

Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.

You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.

“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.

Joel slowed.

“What?”

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.

“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”

Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.

“Money?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”

Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.

“No,” he said, sharp.

“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.

Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.

“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.

“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”

Well, in a way, maybe.

You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”

“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”

“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.

Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.

“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”

He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.

“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.

Sounding guilty, too.

Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.

In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.

Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.

“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.

But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:

“Why?”

Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.

Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.

“Why’d it have to be you?”

Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.

“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”

Your stomach twisted. He did?

You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—

“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.

You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”

“More than you know.”

There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.

Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.

“When you met me?” you teased.

You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.

“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”

His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.

It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.

That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

“How much did you like me? When did it start?”

Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.

You reached back and grabbed another.

“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”

“Says who?”

You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.

“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.

You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”

There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.

Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.

Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.

When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.

“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”

Alright.

“How much?”

You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.

With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.

Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.

“Joel—” Again.

“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”

As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.

Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”

Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.

“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.

“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”

His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.

You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.

And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.

It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.

Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.

And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.

Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.

You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.

Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.

“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.

What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.

“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”

You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.

“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”

“Joel!”

“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”

His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.

“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”

He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.

“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.

He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.

“What’s—”

“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.

Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”

“I want to.”

Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.

All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.

For once, you wanted to believe it.

Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)

#ENOUGH BULLSHITTING WE NEED MORE GLUCOSE GUARDIAN JOEL ON THE TL NEOWWWWW #🫵🏼😐#i’m begging y’all to write more for this very particular and off-putting dynamic bc i love it dearly #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller tlou #the last of us fic

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callsign-joyride · 4 months ago

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But Daddy I Love Him | J.H.S

Summary: You finally tell your dad and Rooster about your secret relationship with Hangman. Content Warnings: Secret relationship, mentions of food/eating Lyric: "Now I'm dancing with my dress in the sun, and even my daddy just loves him." Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Mav's daughter reader

Buy me a coffee

“I know you like to get involved with what I do for work, but I need you to stay away from Hangman, got it?” Your dad had asked you one night over dinner.

“Why? What’s wrong with Hangman?”

“He’s an asshole, that’s what’s wrong with him,” Bradley said.

“Yeah, okay.”

You just couldn’t stay away. The first time that Hangman got you by yourself was on the patio of The Hard Deck. Everyone was too busy inside to worry about what was going on so close to the water. He did a pretty good job of chatting you up and getting your number before you went inside because your dad was getting worried about you. That was months ago, and you and Jake had done a pretty good job of keeping your relationship a secret so far. You had a few close calls but nothing too serious, mainly just Payback and Fanboy catching you hugging or being too close to each other for “acquaintances”. They definitely knew, but Jake scared them into not telling Mav.

Both of you knew what you wanted out of this relationship. You wanted to marry each other but there were a few things you needed to do first. The most important being that your dad had to know about the relationship, even if he’d be unhappy about it. That was the most nerve wracking part, since he was the one who told you to stay away from the Dagger Squad, Hangman in particular.

“You should come by for dinner tonight,” your dad had told you over a phone call while you were sitting on your couch with Jake. Jake quickly shook his head and you had to stifle a laugh.

“I actually have plans with some college friends who are in town,” you lied.

”Oh, which friends?”

”Just some friends from the tennis club that I was in. I don’t think I talked about it that much with you.”

”Oh, okay. Well, have fun.”

”Thanks. Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’ve been seeing someone. He wants to meet you and Penny. Let’s schedule a dinner at my apartment some time in the next few weeks. How does that sound?”

By the end of the phone call, you had dinner scheduled and had told your dad a little bit about your new boyfriend. He didn’t know that it was Hangman, and if he had somehow figured it out, it wasn’t obvious. You spent the rest of the night with Jake, mainly relaxing and watching movies on the couch. As you both climbed in to your bed, you talked about telling everyone else.

“Let’s tell Bradley on the same day as dinner with my dad. Actually, we’ll call and tell him after. I don’t want him to let it slip to my dad before we get a chance to say anything.”

The next couple of weeks flew by, and there were only a few hours until your dad and Penny would be at your apartment for dinner. You told Bradley about dinner, and he decided to join, so you didn’t have to go to the base just so that you and Jake could announce your relationship. Jake joined you at your apartment while you cooked dinner. You had him set the table and put a bottle of wine on ice. There were plenty of beers in the fridge, since you only had wine on special occasions. (Mainly because you weren’t really a fan of it unless it tasted like jam.)

Bradley walked in with Penny and your dad at the perfect time. You were pulling the lasagna out of the oven and Jake was in the bathroom. You mentioned that when your dad asked you where your boyfriend was, leaving out his name.

It was a surprise to everyone when Jake walked out of the bathroom and asked if you were all ready to eat. Bradley immediately got a beer out of the fridge, Penny looked impressed, and you couldn’t quite describe the look on your dad’s face. Everyone sat down and started eating, and things were mostly quiet except for the occasional ask to pass something across the table.

“So, how long have you two been dating?” Your dad asked.

“A few months, and before you get worked up, we’re happy.”

“I’m not worked up, okay? I just wanna know why you kept it a secret for so long.”

“That’s what you’re wondering about?” Bradley asked, “I mean, Hangman, I knew you were seeing someone when you started skipping nights at The Hard Deck. I’m wondering why this, why now, y’know? Like, why get us together for dinner to announce this? Not that I’m really complaining, I get a free meal, but this could’ve been a text, really.”

You sighed and put your head in your hands out of embarrassment. Bradley did have a point, but you were mainly focused on trying not to laugh.

“We’re thinking of getting married. That’s why you’re all here, because one day, we’re gonna have a big ceremony,” you glared at Jake while he was speaking, “or we’ll head down to the courthouse, and we’ll want you there to celebrate with us.”

“Do you love him?” Your dad asked you.

“Yes,” you said as you nodded your head.

“And do you love her?”

“Absolutely, sir,” Jake said.

“That’s all I needed to hear. Get married, have fun, do whatever you want. But try not to rush into it, okay?”

“Wait, really?” You asked through chuckles.

“Yeah. If you’re happy, I’m happy. I couldn’t really stop you, anyways, since it is your life.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Jake said. You clinked wine glasses and beer cans before handing out dessert.You had made a cheesecake before everyone arrived, so all you had to do was pull it out of the fridge and cut it. Bradley stayed a lot longer than anyone thought he would, not leaving until midnight when you pointed out how late it was getting.

It was somewhat surprising that your dad had approved of the relationship so easily. It was even more surprising that Rooster was okay with all of it. Either way, you weren’t complaining. And since you and Jake were more comfortable with being open about your relationship, you started going to The Hard Deck with him and the rest of the Dagger Squad. You even loudly supported him at the next air show that he had, while hanging out with the other partners of the group.

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx @Lolliepops2501 @avengersfan25 @genrockstar

Taglist form (Google form, email is not asked)

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #x reader #top gun maverick #reader insert #top gun #the tortured poets department #ttpd

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 8 months ago

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Can You Feel My Heart - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This was a request I got over a month ago, and the person that asked for it was very detailed in the things they wanted, and I didn't want to give away the entire fic before anyone read it lmao. If you're the one that requested it, I hope you like it! It's definitely a bigger one, 5.9k words🙃

I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You were supposed to die in Tara and Sam's apartment, but you never showed. When he tries to finish the job, he realizes that he can't hurt you, and you help him decided to save the rest of your friends.

Contains: Dryhumping? Oral - m & f receiving, p in v, fingering. Nothing too crazy, Ethan's an inexperienced virgin for the most part in this.

A/N: Deadass want to write something where reader makes Ethan cum in his pants💀

Ethan knew he couldn’t do what his family asked when it came to hurting you, but after hours of Quinn telling Ethan that you’d never want him, and that you would never see him as anything more than a pathetic loser, he’d channeled enough rage towards you to hopefully do the job he was asked to do.

When he popped out of Quinn’s closet that night and killed her flavor of the week, the adrenaline was already pumping through his veins. When he went out to the main area of the apartment, he searched for you. He thought back to the text you sent him about being bummed that he had econ and couldn’t join you and the rest of the friend group, so he knew this was where you were supposed to be. He didn’t let you not being there throw everything off, it just meant Anika had to die before it was originally planned.

He met with his dad before he had to show up at the crime scene and play the roll of the grieving father to explain how everything actually played out.

“She wasn’t there?!” Wayne yelled, as Ethan nodded, his breathing still heavy from all the running to get away from the apartment before anyone had a chance to see him. “Fuck, I thought you had this all planned out!”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said, “She was supposed to be there. I guess she changed her mind.”

“You’re going to finish the job though, right?” Wayne asked, knowing how much convincing it took to get Ethan to want to kill you in the first place.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I know tomorrow’s supposed to be the end of all this, but I have her schedule memorized. I’ll just break into her apartment before she get’s home from class, kill her, and I’ll meet you at the theater,” he said, as Wayne nodded in approval.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

The next day, you went to class. You’d heard about another attack but had no idea it was Anika and Quinn. With you backing out of coming over to Tara and Sam’s last minute before the attacks happened, your friends couldn’t help but wonder if you could’ve been the one that caused her death. You were the last person they’d suspect, but they thought it was a little strange.

Finally, Tara called you when you were walking back home after your morning classes.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t come over last night. I was so tired,” you said, as soon as you answered the phone.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” Tara said. You immediately heard the sadness in her voice.

“Wait, what happened?” you asked, before you heard Mindy yelling at Tara for calling you in the background. “Tara, what’s going on?”

“The killer came to the apartment last night…Quinn and Anika are dead,” she said, as you were walking through your front door.

“Oh my god,” you said, bracing yourself against the doorway as you took in the news she just told you. “Is Mindy okay?” you asked as you started to get emotional. You weren’t the closest to Anika yet, but you were getting there. You loved her sweet yet sarcastic personality, and you’d recently started to get to know her better from the study sessions with her and Ethan.

“No, not really,” Tara sighed, “Were you really home last night? I hate to ask you because I don’t think you’d do anything like this…but you saying you weren’t coming over last minute was a little suspicious.”

You were taken aback by her accusations, and were about to respond, when you heard the beeping that someone else was calling you. You felt annoyed as you saw the unknown number, quickly declining it before you responded to Tara.

“Tara, I promise you I was at home. I was so tired after class yesterday,” you got out, before you started to get another unknown number call, “Fuck, someone keeps calling me. I’ll text you in a little bit. We’ll figure out who’s doing this.”

“Okay, be safe,” she said, before you ended the call and answered whoever kept calling you.

“Hello?” you asked, the irritation in your voice obvious as you heard a chuckle on the other end of the call.

“I thought you were just going to keep ignoring me.”

You immediately recognized the voice. You’d heard it several times before in the Stab movies, and started to think this was some kind of sick prank.

“Who is this?” you asked, walking towards your kitchen, “Because this isn’t funny.”

“Oh, you sweet, dumb thing,” the person responded, a hint of laughter still in their voice. “I think this is hilarious. You’re all alone in your apartment, no one to save you…”

You tensed up as you glanced around the areas of your apartment that you could see from the kitchen, before inching your way towards the drawer that contained the knives.

“Don’t even think about it,” the voice said, the realization that whoever this was could see you in that moment setting in.

“Who the fuck is this?” you asked, your voice a little shaky as your anxiety kicked in.

“Aww, are you scared?” the voice cooed, “Because you should be.”

That’s when you saw the masked figure darting towards you from your bedroom. You tried to make a run for the front door, but Ghostface was hot on your heels. The knife was shoved in your direction in attempts to slow you down, but the knife penetrated the wood of your door. The killer struggled for a few seconds as they tried to get the knife out, giving you the smallest amount of time to get away from them.

You ran to your living room, searching for anything you could use to help you defend yourself, when you noticed that Ghostface had joined you in the room, holding the knife up as they stared at you.

“Why are you doing this?” you cried. Seeing you like this had Ethan feeling so guilty, but Quinn’s words kept replaying in his head. He didn’t say anything as he charged towards you again. You tried to fight him off, but you were quickly overpowered by him.

He threw you to the ground before he straddled your body. You kept trying to fight, refusing to just give up, even though this person was a lot stronger than you. Both of Ghostface’s hands were wrapped around his knife as they held it over their head, your life literally flashing before your eyes as you waited for it all to be over.

Ethan hesitated, though. The fear in your eyes, your tear-soaked cheeks, and the sobs slipping past your lips were something he knew would haunt him if he went through with this.

“I’m so sorry,” you heard, recognizing the voice as the knife was lowered and clanked on the floor beside you. “I can’t do this to you.”

“Ethan?!” you choked out, gaining enough strength to shove him off you. You used your hands and feet to back yourself closer to the wall, pulling yourself up by the windowsill as he sat on the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know,” he cried, pulling the mask over his head and throwing it in frustration. “I can’t do anything right.”

You eyed him as you stood against the wall, watching him cry. You were so shaken up and furious, but you couldn’t help but wonder how Ethan ended up in this position. He was this shy, sweet person that you enjoyed spending time with, and maybe it was your personal feelings towards him, but you felt bad for him.

You walked over to where the knife was, kicking it to the other side of the room under your tv stand. If he had a change of heart and decided he wanted to kill you, you knew him trying to fish that out would give you enough time to escape.

“What the fuck, Ethan?” you sighed, standing beside him as he still sat in his place on the floor. “Why?”

He just kept crying, so ashamed of himself that he got roped into his dad’s plan in the first place. He felt sick, and not just mentally. He was fighting his nausea as you finally crouched down beside him.

“Talk to me,” you said, as he finally looked up at you. He looked scared, his pupils huge as his chin quivered.

“My family is behind all this,” he said, jumping up off the floor as you hesitantly stood up. “Fuck, they’re gonna kill me.”

You started to get nervous all over again as he paced the floor. His hands were shaking, and you couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger, but you stepped as far away from him as you could.

“I don’t even understand why you were a part of this in the first place. You didn’t have anything to do with Richie dying,” he ranted, before pausing for a second, “Are you close to your parents?”

You just stared at him, unsure of what to say. This wasn’t the Ethan you knew, and his erratic behavior had a huge lump in your throat.

“I bet your parents love you. I bet they’d never treat you the way my dad treats me,” he said, after you didn’t answer him. “I bet they never make you feel like you’re worthless.”

“You’re not worthless,” you said softly, his head snapping in your direction. You hesitated before speaking again. “Your family is doing this because of Richie? How is he a part of this?”

Ethan stepped towards you, as you backed even further against the wall. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You shook your head as you looked at him, “You just tried to kill me, Ethan…I’m terrified of you right now.”

“Fuck,” he said, tearing up again. “Richie was my brother. I know you heard the story about Sam stabbing him and slitting his throat,” Ethan paused, you nodded for him to continue, “My dad and sister wanted revenge. I didn’t want to do any of this.”

“Then why did you?” you questioned, as he wiped tears from his cheeks.

“Because my dad told me that it would finally make him proud of me for something…and he said he’d just kill me too if I didn’t help with all this.”

You started to relax against the wall a little as you processed everything. This wasn’t about him wanting to hurt you or anyone else, he just wanted to be loved by the one person that should’ve loved him regardless. He was broken, and even though the voice inside your head kept screaming that you were stupid for wanting to comfort him, your huge heart was breaking for him.

“Ethan,” you said, slowly stepping towards him, “Everything will be okay.”

“No it won’t!” he yelled, making you jump, “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, noticing that he’d scared you again. He started to speak in a softer tone, “My dad is a fucking detective…even if I try to run away from all of this, he’d just find me.”

You stood there in silence for a few seconds as the realization hit you, “Detective Bailey?” you asked, as he nodded.

“Quinn is a part of this, too. She’s my sister.”

“Ethan…Quinn died last night. This isn’t making sense,” you said, as he scoffed.

“She’s not dead…I wish she was, though. I fucking hate her.”

You both stood in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds heard in the room was his heavy breathing and the occasional sob he’d let out…and the pounding in your chest but you were sure only you could hear that.

“I know you probably hate me right now, and I’m so sorry that I scared you like that. You didn’t deserve it,” he finally said, his eyes connecting with yours. “I’d rather my own life be over than take yours.”

“Your life isn’t over,” you said, as he started to awkwardly laugh.

“It is, though. I still helped with this. I’m going to spend the rest of my life in prison.”

“Not if you stop all this. You can still do the right thing,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your suggestion. “I’m the only person that knows…I won’t say anything.”

He looked at you in disbelief, unsure if you were serious or if you just had a really good poker face.

“I do have another question, though,” you said, walking closer towards him, until he was right in front of you. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

You wanted to pull him into a hug. You wanted him to feel like he was cared about. But you really needed to know why he changed his mind last minute before you did anything.

“I uhm…” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words to say, “I really like you, You’re just so sweet, and you’re always showing interest in the things I like, even if you don’t understand it. Quinn tried to make me hate you enough to do it, but I couldn’t.”

“So…Quinn tried to convince you to kill me?” you asked, a little confused. You’d spent plenty of time with her at Sam and Tara’s. You now knew that her kindness towards you was all an act, but you didn’t understand why she thought you needed to die.

“Yeah, she knew how I felt about you,” he said, glancing at the floor as his cheeks started to turn a rosy pink. “She said you’d never want to be with me. That doesn’t matter, though. That wasn’t a good enough reason for me to finish the job.”

“Is that all I am to you? A job?” you half-joked, as he started to smile, looking back up at you.

“Not at all.”

You both just stared at each other as he started to calm down. His eyes were red from all the crying, the guilt for even trying to hurt you painted on his face, but you still grabbed his hands and pulled him close to you.

“It’s going to be okay, Ethan. I’ll help you get through this,” you said, as your hands comfortingly ran over his back. He relaxed into your touch, but he was still a little shocked that you didn’t hate him at that moment.

“Are you okay?” he softly asked, “I know I slammed you on the floor pretty hard.”

“I’m still pissed at you, but I’m okay,” you said, as you started to pull away. He held onto you tighter, not wanting to let you go just yet. “Ethan,” you said sternly, “We need to talk about something else.”

“Sorry…you have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had affection like this,” he mumbled against you, before pulling away. “I’m really fucked up, aren’t I?”

“I might be a little fucked up, too. I want to make you feel better after you tried to kill me,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’re not fucked up, you’re perfect.”

You grabbed his gloved hand and led him over to the couch. He realized that he was still wearing the robe and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor before he sat down beside you. Your eyes connected with his as you slid the gloves off his hands and threw them on top of the robe.

“I know your family has their plans, but we need to save the rest of our friends,” you said, his heart pounding when you said the word ‘we’.

“No, you can’t help. I can’t let anything happen to you. I’ll take care of it,” he said, as your hands still held onto his. He looked down at them, before looking back up at you. “You mean a lot to me, even if you don’t feel the same way I do.”

You smirked at him as your thumbs rubbed against the top of his hands, “I never said I didn’t feel the same way you do.”

The tension was building up as you just looked at each other. He wasn’t the most experienced, and you knew that, so you decided to make the first move. You leaned in and gently kissed him before you pulled away. He had a sweet smile on his lips, his cheeks pink, but he wanted more.

He gained a little confidence, leaning forward to kiss you. It wasn’t a simple peck like yours was, as his lips needily moved against yours. Your head was spinning as he pushed you back on the couch, his body hovering over yours as you ran your tongue across his bottom lip. He gasped at the feeling, giving you the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. He didn’t know what to do at first, but soon enough, his tongue was moving with yours.

After a few minutes, he pulled away so you could both catch your breath. He was panting on top of you, a small gasp slipping out of your mouth as he adjusted his hips to get more comfortable in his place between your legs.

You started to get a little lost in thought, wondering if you were crazy. You didn’t expect to be making out with Ethan after he held a knife over you and scared you more than you’d ever been, but it just felt right.

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down to kiss you. The grip you had on his shirt relaxed, your fingertips gently running down his chest. He started to tense up a little when your hands reached his stomach, a small groan slipping into your mouth at the feeling. He didn’t pull away from you, the kiss only getting more intense as he started to grind against you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled against him, before nudging him back. “My bed is a lot more comfortable…just saying.”

“Okay,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

After both of you stood up, you could see how hard he was in his jeans. He subtly tried to cover it with his free hand, his other hand laced with yours as you led him to your room.

It got a lot harder for him to hide it once you pushed him back on your bed. You glanced at it before you straddled him, his cheeks turning pink, yet again.

“You keep blushing,” you said, as you started to roll your hips. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he spat out, so quickly that you started to giggle. “Please don’t stop.”

Your hips kept moving as he placed his hands on them, pulling you closer to him. You gasped at the friction it was giving your clit, your panties getting more soaked by the second. He was starting to groan, his mouth falling open as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Okay, we need to stop,” he said, his breathing heavy as his eyes snapped open. “You’re going to make me cum in my pants.”

“Would you rather cum in my mouth?” you asked, your eyes looking deep into his. He didn’t know what to say, because he was so embarrassed that just you grinding against him was enough to almost bring him over the edge. He knew the second you put him in your mouth, he’d cum on the spot. You could tell he was nervous, his hands feeling a little shaky as he held onto you. “It’s okay, baby. We can stop.”

“No, I want to…I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” he sighed, turning his eyes away from your gaze. “Whatever we do, I know I won’t last long.”

“Ethan, I know you’re a virgin. I don’t expect you to last long.” He started to get flustered, hating the fact that his inexperience was so obvious. “It’s okay. If you want me to make you feel good, I will.”

“Shit,” he mumbled, “Okay, we can do it.”

You smirked as you slid off him and started to unbutton his jeans. He lifted his hips as you slid them down a little, the wet spot on his boxers from his precum making your mouth water even more than it already was. He sharply inhaled the second you grabbed his cock out of his boxers, his hips jolting forward at the simple action.

“Relax, baby,” you said softly as you leaned down to take him in your mouth.

You were trying to tease him a little, just swirling your tongue against his tip, when his hips jerked forward again. His cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whined, his chest heaving at the feeling, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

You just kept gagging around him, intentionally making your mouth more wet for him before you started to bob your head. His hands tightly gripped your comforter as you sucked, the feeling better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was trying so hard to hold back, but you made it impossible for him. His groans turned to whimpers as you started to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You knew he was close when he started to babble, only recognizing the words ‘Perfect’ and ‘So good’.

His hips started to rut forward again, his legs shaking as one of his hands went to your hair. He tightly gripped it as the feeling washed over him, his salty cum filling your mouth. After his hips stopped thrusting, you swallowed and slid him out of your mouth.

You sat there for a minute after you pulled away, watching him fully come back down from his high. He felt your gaze on him as he slowly opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“That was…fuck,” he sighed, pulling you closer to him. “Can we do that again sometime?”

“I hope so,” you said, as you started to think about what Ethan had to do. “When is everything else supposed to happen, like with the Ghostface stuff?”

You sat up a little to look at him as you waited for his answer. “Shit, if I’m going to stop it, I need to get to the theater,” he sighed, pulling his boxers and jeans back over his hips. “Can we finish this later?”

“Of course,” you said, fully sitting up on your bed. “I want to come with you.”

“No, I’m not losing the girl I’m in love with,” he said, jumping off the bed and landing on his feet. He paused when he realized what he said. “I guess you know how I really feel in case I don’t make it out of this alive.”

“I’m not staying here and worrying about you all night,” you said, sliding off your bed. “Do you know the theater well?”

“Yeah, but you’re not coming!” He was starting to get irritated, but he knew with your persistence that you were coming with him whether he liked it or not. “You could get killed, babe. I can’t keep you safe and take down dad and Quinn at the same time.”

“If they already think I’m dead, don’t you think that would be helpful?” you asked, “I’ll get our friends out before anything happens to them.”

“Fuck, okay. But we need to leave right now.”

You were hoping you could catch your friends before they made it inside the theater, but you peaked around the side of the building as soon as they were going in.

“There’s a back way, just let me scope it out for Quinn first,” he said, as the two of you walked around the old theater. He slid the robe back on and covered his face with the mask before he turned to look at you. “Wait here,” he said, before he opened the door and walked inside.

You were outside for a while before you heard screaming and Ethan’s voice booming on the other side of the door. You didn’t know what was going on, you even started to think that he’d decided to go through with the original plan, after all. You screamed once the masked figure walked out, the bloody knife in their hand.

“It’s okay, babe. It’s me,” he said, reaching for your hand. You hesitantly took his hand in yours as he led you inside, noticing a huge pool of blood on the floor.

“Is that…Quinn?” you asked, noticing the body hunched over in the corner.

“Yeah, we don’t have much time. Dad will be here soon,” he said, leading you down the hallway towards the museum-like display.

You bumped into Chad and Tara when you came around a corner. They both froze when they saw you, your hand still in Ethan’s.

“It was you?” Tara asked, as your eyes went wide, realizing how this all looked.

“No, but we need to get you guys the fuck out of here,” you said, motioning for Tara to come with you. They both stood in their spot as Chad glanced around, looking for something Tara could defend herself with as he tried to take down the masked person. “I’m fucking serious! We have to go!”

“Please just listen to her,” Ethan said, as Chad and Tara looked at each other. “I know how this looks, but you need to go with her. I’ll get Sam and Kirby out next.”

“Why should we trust you?” Chad asked, as Ethan lifted the mask off.

“I’m trying to do the right thing…and it’ll all be for nothing if you don’t go with her. Please, my dad’s on his way,” he sighed, as Chad hesitantly nodded.

“We can both take her if this is bullshit,” Chad whispered to Tara as she nodded. “You’re going to get Sam and Kirby?” he asked, as Ethan nodded. “Fuck, let’s go.”

You led them down the hall as Ethan made his way into the theater to search for the other two. Once you got closer to where Quinn was, you warned them.

“Try not to freak out, but there’s a body around the corner,” you said, noticing the blood spreading across the hall.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chad finally asked, “Whoa, who is that?”

You turned to face them, the confusion on their faces obvious when they noticed the red hair.

“That’s Quinn, she never died. Detective Bailey is in on this,” you said, before trying to think of the best way to explain Ethan without telling them his involvement. “Ethan is Quinn’s brother. He figured all this out today, and he wanted to stop it.”

“Oh,” was all Tara said, as you led them out the back door.

The three of you waited outside for a while. Tara was starting to freak out, the concern for her sister’s safety made her want to go back inside.

“Where the fuck are they?” Chad asked, as he heard Sam start to yell for Tara from the front entrance.

You ran around to the front of the building, panic setting in when you saw Sam and Kirby, but no Ethan.

“What happened?” you asked, peaking around them, hoping to see him walk out behind them.

“We didn’t believe Ethan at first…until he started to fight Detective Bailey,” Sam said, noticing the sadness in your eyes as your thoughts ran wild. “He’s okay, he’s in the ambulance over there.”

“Oh my god,” you said, running over to him. He smiled at you as you crawled into the back, your anxiety fading once you saw he was okay. “I forgot to tell you something earlier,” you said, sitting down beside him. You leaned in to kiss him, mumbling “I love you, too,” against his lips before you pulled away.

You were soon joined in the back by a paramedic, who was looking over a huge gash on Ethan’s arm that you didn’t see before, the blood unnoticeable with the black robe he was still wearing.

“Oh shit,” you said, looking at it. “How hurt are you?”

“This is it,” he said with a smile, before wincing at the numbing medication being injected into his arm. “That burns.”

You were shocked after he was all stitched up and one of the new detectives on the case said he was good to go, but that he’d just need to come down to the police station the next day. Ethan looked over to you, silently thanking you for keeping your word and not ratting him out. You knew he was wrong for doing what he did to Anika, but it was so easy for it to be pinned on his dead dad.

“Thank you, Ethan,” Sam said, as he hopped out of the back of the ambulance. “We’re going back to our apartment. You guys want to come?”

You and Ethan exchanged your glances as he took your hand in his.

“No, I think we’re going to…uh, hang out?” he said, like it was a question. It made you giggle as Chad curiously eyed him. He stopped Ethan before the two of you walked away, discreetly pulling a condom out of his wallet.

“Just in case you need it,” he said, as Ethan nodded and slid it into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Thanks, dude.”

Once you made it back to your apartment, you couldn’t figure out if you were with the same nervous Ethan from earlier in the day. He had you out of your clothes in minutes, your bare back against the plush comforter as he trailed kisses down your stomach. His hands were inching up your thighs as he pushed them apart.

He moved lower, groaning at the sight of your soaked pussy before he started to place gently kitten licks to your clit. You started to moan as his tongue moved faster, your hand tangling in his curls to encourage him, as if your moaning wasn’t already doing that enough. Once he moved his tongue a little lower and swirled it inside of you, your hips involuntarily jolted, much like his did earlier in the day. When your hips kept moving, he pinned them down with his free hand as he kept lapping at the wetness dripping out of you.

“Shit, Ethan,” you moaned, which only made him go faster.

His mouth worked you closer to the edge when he pulled away. You whined at the loss of contact, knowing how close you were getting to your orgasm. He wasn’t going to let it slip away, instead using his fingers and curving them inside you.

“Right there,” you whimpered once he brushed his fingers over the spongy spot inside of you.

His fingers firmly pressed as they moved, his tongue moving back up to lick fat stripes across your swollen clit. The orgasm you were so close to having was quickly approaching again, your hips still trying to buck against him as he struggled to hold them down. Your vision was getting hazier by the second, your whimpers getting louder as your legs started to shake.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” you whined, as your pussy started contracting around his fingers.

He pulled his mouth away from your clit to have a better view of your face as his fingers slowed inside of you. You were a panting mess as you came back down, your eyes hooded as your hands reached for him.

“Don’t take this wrong because that was amazing, but that wasn’t what I expected,” you said, your breathing still labored as he snuggled up beside you. “I didn’t really have to tell you what to do at all.”

He started to laugh to himself as his hand reached over to run along your naked body, “I guess it just came to me. I knew moaning meant I was doing something right.”

“You did everything right, fuck,” you sighed, feeling his hand run over one of your breasts, gently pinching your nipple between his fingers. “No pressure, but if you want to have sex, we can.”

“Seriously?” he asked, sitting up a little to look at you.

“Yeah, I know you already have a condom,” you said, running your hand over the pocket of his jeans. “Chad should really be a little less obvious.”

“He just wanted me to be prepared,” he sighed, sliding the condom out of his pocket.

He crawled off the bed to take his jeans off. You started to giggle as he climbed back up, the tent in his boxers obvious as he sat on his knees and looked at you.

“Those have to come off, too,” you said, as he started to blush. His hesitance made you roll your eyes as you sat up and leaned over, shimmying his boxers down his hips. “You have nothing to be self-conscious about,” you said, as his cock stood at attention right in front of your face.

You grabbed the condom off the bed beside you and opened it. He intently watched you as you rolled it on his length, the feeling making his breath hitch in his throat.

“Please don’t hate me if this doesn’t last long,” he said, as he got settled between your legs.

“No pressure,” you assured him, as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls.

He took it slow, at first. His hands teasingly roamed the areas of your body he could reach, the tickling feeling only building your anticipation up even more. Once he got through the initial fear of cumming too quickly, he started to move a little faster. His bottom lip was in between his teeth as he looked down at you, your tits jiggling with each thrust. He held on to one of them as his other hand went to your hip, holding you in place as his thrusts sped up.

He started to groan as he fucked into you, his cheeks red as his mouth hung open. You could tell he was trying to hold back, his mind somewhere else as he tried to distract himself. You moved one of your hands to your clit, rubbing quick circles as your other hand grabbed onto his arm.

“Baby,” you moaned out, as he started to focus on you again. “Go a little faster, I’m close.”

“Shit,” he groaned, snapping his hips into yours. You started to move your hips to meet his thrusts, the feeling of the tip of your cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot had you teetering on the edge.

You let out a loud moan as the euphoric feeling washed over you, your skin tingling as your pussy clenched him. His eyes started to flutter as his thrusts started to falter, a whimper slipping past his lips as he started to fill the tip of the condom. He stilled inside of you as you just kept tightening around him, his head hanging as he caught his breath.

“God, babe,” he said, sliding out of you. “I just want to stay inside you all the time.”

You giggled at him as he laid down beside you. “Is it that good?”

“You have no fucking idea.”

You were starting to get some post-nut clarity as you laid your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. He’d killed three people in one day and tried to kill you. You were still so proud of him for saving the rest of the people you cared about, even if he had his little psychotic tendencies. You made a mental note to bring up therapy to him once the investigation was over, knowing he needed to work through the daddy issues he ultimately had after years of neglect. You knew that you were going to be by his side the whole way, not wanting him to feel like he didn’t matter ever again.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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writeonwhiskey · 5 months ago

Text

the skz house: ch 20

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i am so excited to get this chapter out to you guys. i hope you enjoy it! its quite long, i don't normally add a word count, but i should warn you before you get started haha

wc: 10,370

[ read chapter 19 here ]

Chapter 20: Of Father's & Basements

You follow Changbin up the stairs in autopilot mode, your body moving one foot after the other without you even thinking about it. Your mind is stuck on what’s happening on the first floor. Why would his father show up like this? Why hadn’t anyone warned you guys before you got on the plane? He didn’t appear at the house, in the country, out of nowhere…someone had to of known he was coming. They shouldn’t have blindsided Chan like that.

“No, I don’t need any help, y/n. I’ve got it,” Changbin attempts to joke.

You blink and refocus on him in front of you. His arms are tense and shaking from the weight of yours and Chan’s suitcases.

“Sorry,” you murmur as he puts them on the ground at the third floor.

He takes in your expression as he raises the handles on the suitcases. He doesn’t say anything further about it as he starts pushing them towards Chan’s door. You trail behind him again.

“Bin?” you call to him when he stops at the door. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not really sure.” he replies, turning to face you.

“But you have some idea, don’t you?”

You watch his face carefully. He’s typically always smiling or joking about something but right now there’s not a trace of either.

“Is his family alright? No one’s hurt?” you continue.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” he reassures you.

You feel some relief at that, but it’s almost immediately replaced by a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. If his family is alright and his dad still showed up here, two days after Christmas…

You think back to Chan’s behavior on the flight heading to Miami and after speaking with his family on the phone Christmas Eve. He knew something was wrong, even then. Whatever it was, though, he clearly hadn’t expected his father to show up because of it. You don’t want to believe it has anything to do with you, but your gut instinct is telling you otherwise.

“Changbin,” you say, pleading to him with your eyes on the brink of tears. You don’t want to think that you’re the cause of all this. If you hadn’t been so persistent in getting Chan to break down his walls, maybe this wouldn’t be happening right now. You wouldn’t have even asked him to come on the trip, he would have gone home and wouldn’t be facing the wrath of his father two stories below you.

“It’s not my place to say anything. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely.

With his words, you’re reminded of your role in this house. As close as you may have gotten to every one of the members, you are still an outsider. There are certain things you don’t have the privilege of knowing.

Changbin opens the door to Chan’s room and pushes the luggage inside. You walk past him and enter; he closes the door and leaves you alone inside. You resist the urge to crumble on the floor and instead sit on the edge of Chan’s bed. You’ll wait for him to come up and then you can get some answers, you can make sure he’s okay.

Some time passes and he doesn’t come up. When you re-emerge from the room and go back downstairs to find him, you’re informed he’s left the house with his father. You wonder how long they’ve been gone and why he didn’t text you to let you know.

You already know why he didn’t. It’s none of your business. You can’t forget that.

Chan doesn’t come back at all that night.

It’s Wednesday, and even though neither Hyunjin nor Chan are home you still stick to the schedule. You curl up into a ball on your bed in Chan’s room, alone. But you hardly sleep.

The next morning you’re shuffling throughout the house, keeping yourself busy with household chores. It’s why you’re here, is what you keep telling yourself. You interact with the other members and assignees that are home, but everything feels off without Chan or Hyunjin around. You do their laundry—clothes and linen—clean the kitchen, vacuum the floors. Anything to keep your mind preoccupied.

It's well into the afternoon and you’re vacuuming the living room. You don’t hear the front door open; you’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t even hear your name being called. It isn’t until a pair of arms wrap around your waist that you’re pulled from your thoughts, jumping and screaming at the sudden contact.

With one look down at the arms around you, the rings on the fingers…you know it’s Hyunjin. You shut off the vacuum and spin around, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Aww, you missed me?” He teases, squeezing you back just as tightly.

“I thought you were coming back tomorrow,” you say, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Change of plans,” he shrugs, resting his cheek on top of your head as you remain in the embrace.

You don’t want to let him go yet. You need him too much. He lets you hold on to him a while longer and when you finally pull away, he’s smiling down at you. You take in his still darkened locks, perfectly structured face, his plump lips, the adorable freckle beneath his eye, the eyebrow piercing…

Your hand flies to his chin, tilting his head up while the other brushes his hair away from his face.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” you say sternly.

He winces at the use of his surname, taking both of your wrists in his hands to bring them away from his face. He shakes his head causing his hair to fall back in place, covering his eyebrows.

“You hate it?”

You free one of your hands from his loose grip on your wrists and brush his bangs back again, taking in the look on him.

“Well, I do think your face is perfect without it…but it looks good on you.”

“I know,” he responds with a wink.

You swat him on the arm playfully, already feeling more at ease with him at home.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early? I would have come pick you up.”

“You just got back yesterday…I thought I was being considerate,” he explains. “Thought maybe you’d like to rest and here I find you, Cinderella-ing away.”

“I needed a distraction,” you shrug.

He ushers you towards the couch. He sits and you plop down next to him, feeling the exhaustion from the work you’ve been doing all morning hit you all at once.

“How was your trip?” he inquires.

“Better than I expected.” You turn to face him on the couch. “Until we got back…I’m sure you know.”

“I heard,” he nods. “He’s fine. He’ll be back soon.”

You exhale a long sigh. You know better than to ask for more details at this point. Even Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to break their code and explain anything to you. It’s hard to reconcile with that fact, truly. The only person who can elaborate is Chan and he’s nowhere to be found, and there’s no telling if he even will when he returns.

“Did you have a good time back home?” you ask.

“It was nice to see my family. Kkami, most of all,” he tells you. “But I don’t think my mom could get me out of the house fast enough after I showed up with this piercing. She thought my dad would lose his shit if he saw it.”

The tone in which they speak of their fathers is always shockingly cavalier. This does nothing to help your concerns over where Chan is.

“So, you were sent back early?”

“For my own safety,” he laughs.

Considering Chan has been M.I.A for almost 24 hours now after his father showed up, you don’t find this funny at all. Their dads wouldn’t actually physically harm them…would they? The thought makes you feel sick to your stomach. If Chan shows back up with scars or bruises, you are liable to lose it.

Hyunjin hooks a finger under your chin and brings your attention back to him.

“Let’s go get lunch,” he suggests.

“I haven’t even showered yet.” You look down at yourself and brush back the hairs that have fallen from your messy bun.

“Well go shower, I’ll unpack…then we’ll get lunch.”

“I’ll unpack for you later,” you say.

“I need something to do, or I’ll pass out and fuck up my sleep schedule even more.”

“Okay,” you concede softly.

Before you can stand, Hyunjin pulls you onto his lap, his eyes searching yours. He cups your face with one hand, stroking the side of your face with his fingers. You lean into his touch. You want to apologize for being in such a sour mood when he’s just returned home, but all you can muster is a forced smile.

He gives a small shake of his head in return.

You don’t have to say anything. No apologies are necessary. You can feel whatever you’re feeling. You should know that already.

He brings your face to his and places a chaste kiss on your lips. He doesn’t part his lips, doesn’t deepen the kiss. He keeps his lips against yours and you feel a little more of the tension subsiding.

Changbin tries to weasel his way into lunch with you and Hyunjin, but Hyunjin firmly shuts him down. The two of you venture out alone—you have lunch then make a few stops for groceries and to pick up saline for Hyunjin’s piercing. While unpacking, he realized he left the bottle he bought in Korea. Which, of course he did.

When you return home, Chan still isn’t back. You’re sad at that, but far less than you would have been if Hyunjin weren’t here. Your saving grace, however, is pulled away by Changbin and you’re left to put away the groceries with Rhiannon. You’re far from hungry but you help her make dinner for the others that are home.

“He did not,” you say to her when she reveals that Allie texted the group chat what Lee Know got her for Christmas. You left your phone upstairs, not wanting to continuously check it for a text from Chan you know isn’t coming.

“He did. He really did,” she says laughing as she wipes her hands to take her phone out of her pocket. She turns it around to show you the picture.

It’s a selfie of Allie, her expression is a mixture of shock and confusion as she holds a butt plug next to her face.

Charlotte sent several eye covering emojis beneath it.

“What the fuck,” you say, laughing with her.

“I know. Raunchy.” She sets her phone back on the counter and returns her attention to the meat on the stove.

You get back to chopping the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.

“Not just raunchy…it’s actually kinda rude considering he turned down her offer for anal sex last month,” you tell her.

“Exactly! She’s never going to let him do it now,” Rhiannon replies.

Someone clears their throat near the kitchen entrance and you both turn your heads to see who it is.

Chan.

You’re frozen in place, mid-chop. Of course, he’d return while you’re in the midst of discussing anal sex.

You take in his expression—he seems okay. He looks like he didn’t get much sleep, but he’s alive and well on all other counts. His lips turn up into a smile when you look at him and you surely could use your stethoscope right now, because it feels like your heart skips a beat at the sight.

“Hey,” he says to you softly.

“Hey,” you reply.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Me?” you ask incredulously. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

He holds his hand out for you. You set down the knife and walk to him, placing your hand in his when you’re close enough. He brings you to him, wrapping his arms around you, hands resting on your ass.

“I am now,” he confirms.

He still seems like the Chan from your trip, and you let out a small breath. You feared that the brick walls you worked so hard to bulldoze through would be replaced by impenetrable steel. Maybe you overreacted. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as all that you were thinking. Though, what choice had he left you with?

“Will you tell me about it later?” You ask quietly.

“I don’t know that it’s conducive after everything…but I will, if you want me to.”

You nod.

“Okay.” he says.

“Okay.” you echo.

He places a quick kiss to your forehead, then smacks you on the butt.

“As long as you tell me what all this anal talk was about.” He says, loud enough for Rhiannon to hear.

Your eyes open wide, and Rhiannon starts guffawing behind you.

You sit next to Hyunjin for dinner, though neither you eat. It’s just nice to be with everyone again. Well, almost everyone. Jeongin, Lee Know, Felix, Allie and Seungmin still aren’t back yet. You occasionally glance towards Chan—he still seems fine. Though, he’s not actively contributing to the conversation he still chimes in occasionally. You want to know what’s on his mind so badly and silently wish for everyone to finish eating faster.

After dinner, both Chan and Hyunjin go up to their rooms while you help Rhiannon with the dishes.

On your way upstairs, an unfamiliar conflict weighs on you as you ascend to the third floor to see Chan. It’s a Friday…you’re supposed to be with Hyunjin. And you will be. But…the last week and a half with only Chan has you feeling out of sorts. You try to tell yourself that nothing has changed…you still care deeply for them both. The connection you now have with Chan is what you always wanted. This will allow you to be with both of them comfortably. Chan opening up to you and professing the feelings he has harbored towards you for years, however, is what has you out of sorts.

Chan’s door is open when you reach it; you knock on it to alert him of your presence. He’s seated at his desk and spins around in his chair as you enter. His laptop is open and you see the familiar music program displayed on the screen. If he was able to get right back to work on their project, he really must be fine.

“So…” you trail off, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“So,” he repeats. “Anal sex?”

Your expression falls flat, and he chuckles. He knows what you’re here to discuss.

“Okay, okay, sorry. What do you wanna know?”

“Why did your dad come here? Where did you go?”

“To check on me,” he tells you. “We went for dinner and then I stayed at the hotel with him.”

“Check on you for what? Are you unwell?”

You know he’s not, but he’s being brief with his responses. You don’t want to blame him; you are throwing multiple questions at once in his direction. It must feel like an interrogation.

“He knew…he knows…about us, I mean.”

“What about us?”

“That I canceled my trip home to go with you instead.”

“And he flew all the way out here for that?”

“It’s just…not something I would normally do. Skipping out on certain obligations and Christmas with my family, my siblings in particular.”

“Shit, Chan…I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I wanted to go with you.”

“You’ve never missed a Christmas with your family?” He shakes his head. “And that’s why he was so pissed?”

Chan is quiet for a moment.

“The trip was…well, you are a deviation from my plans.”

You arch an eyebrow at that.

“From their plans, you mean?”

“They are my plans, too,” he shrugs, “…he just wanted to make sure I’m not straying from the path.”

“Are you?”

He sighs.

“I’m trying really hard not to. I don’t want to disappoint them, they’ve done so much for me. But I also want to give this a try—being open and transparent with you…even knowing how it will end.”

It strikes you then that you may have to be stronger than Chan at the end of this semester. You don’t know if you can do that.

“You deserve to be happy too, Chan. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

Until he moves on and finds a suitable partner that will please his parents. You wonder if that’s the obligation he mentioned, but you can’t bring yourself to directly ask him about that.

“I’m gonna try.”

“We’ll just enjoy the time we have together?”

“Yes.”

“And even with all the things you told me in Miami, you’re okay with me sleeping in Hyunjin’s bed tonight?”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you all to myself,” he confesses. “But it’s Hyunjin…I know he’s good to you and handles you with care. And he’ll give you back when I need you.”

When he needs you? You grip the edges of his mattress to refrain from smiling stupidly at that.

“After our trip it feels a little heavier, you know?”

“Does it?” he asks, as though it’s not obvious why it would. “I’ve shared everything with these guys since we were kids…I know it sounds crazy, but this is not that different.”

You scrunch up your face at that. Is he comparing you to a toy or clothing item they share amongst the group?

“So, you’re okay with me sleeping with all of them?”

His eyes darken at that.

“Fuck no. Just one. Just Hyunjin. That’s all I can bear.”

You laugh at his reaction.

“Just checking.”

As convoluted as the overall situation is, his answer makes sense. Aside from him finally opening up to you, nothing has changed. He still felt this way the entire time you’d already been with Hyunjin and there hadn’t been any problems about that. The only difference now is that you know too. And what you will make of that information over time.

“Does it seem unfair?” you ask.

“What?”

“That you only get me…and I get you and Hyunjin?”

“I only get you?” He arches an eyebrow. “The fact that I get you at all is enough.”

The sincerity in his tone makes your eyes sting. He strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I’d trust him with my life…I trust him with you, too. Now, go down there to him before I change my mind and tie you up here.”

A flurry of butterflies make their way from your stomach down to your pussy at that remark. It sounds tempting enough to make you hesitate to return downstairs so quickly. You’ve been without Hyunjin for so long, though. You can’t deny that you physically miss him too.

You lean forward to give him a kiss before standing.

“See you tomorrow?” he nods. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Back in Hyunjin’s room, you find him in the dark, sprawled out on the bed on his stomach, already snoring. You could have stayed upstairs after all. But after the long day of travel he’s had, his fatigue is understandable. You shake him awake, telling him to get beneath the blankets. He does as you tell him; his eyes still partially closed. You change into your pajamas before climbing into bed with him. He cuddles up to you, throwing one leg over both of yours and resting his head on your shoulder.

You wonder how you’ll adjust to this new normal with both of them. Or if it will ever feel normal.

It’s no surprise Hyunjin remains dead to the world long after you’ve woken up the next day. Even after you shower and return to his room, he’s still knocked out. It’s been nearly twelve hours, which gives you a brief moment of concern. You walk to the side of the bed and stand still, watching him intently until you see the rise and fall of his chest confirming he’s alive.

You head downstairs and see that Changbin, Han and Charlotte are in the living room. You join them, watching TV for a while before Changbin suggests getting supplies for tomorrow. You go to the store with them to buy various New Year’s Eve accessories for everyone. Then, on a whim, take an hour-long detour to purchase fireworks. Changbin tries to assure you they’re the perfectly legal kind, but Han can’t lie to save his life.

You text Hyunjin and Chan to let them know where you are, though you’re sure they’re already aware. When you make it back to the house it’s nearly 5:00pm and the sun has already set. You feel like most of the day has been spent on nonsensical, illegal errands but at least it’s still winter break and you don’t have to worry about waking up for a class tomorrow.

Han and Charlotte immediately go off to his room when you make it back inside, while Changbin and Rhiannon hangout in the kitchen. They mention something about ordering takeout for dinner and you tell them whatever is fine as you make your way to the basement where Hyunjin and Chan are.

They’re in the midst of playing pool. Hyunjin, clad in a pair of black Adidas track pants and a long-sleeved white t-shirt looks up at you and smiles when you enter. He has a thin headband in his hair, keeping it out of his face and putting that striking new eyebrow piercing on full display.

Chan has his back to you. He’s dressed equally as comfortable in his typical sweatpants and plain black t-shirt.

“We were just talking about you,” Hyunjin announces.

Chan turns around and greets you with a smile as well.

“Oh yeah?” you ask suspiciously. “What about me?”

“All good things,” Hyunjin replies.

“Only good things,” Chan adds.

You squint your eyes at them, “Uh-huh. Sure.”

You stop at the pool table, surveying the game. Whoever is stripes is losing badly

“Wanna take over? I suck.” Hyunjin offers you the pool cue.

“I’m no better,” you say.

“Let’s start a new game,” Chan suggests. “You two can be a team.”

You take the pool cue from Hyunjin, and he busies himself with racking the balls at the opposite end of the table. You walk over to Chan and nudge him with your shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, placing his hand around your waist to pull you close. “Ready to lose?”

“Never,” you say, pushing him away.

Hyunjin finishes setting up the new game then disappears behind the bar. He returns with three drinks—beers for them and a White Claw for you.

“Are we placing bets?” you ask, cracking the top of the can open and taking a sip.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Hyunjin says. “We probably will lose.”

Chan nods confidently and you roll your eyes.

“Alright, let’s get warmed up then,” you say, stepping away from the table to set your drink on the bar.

“You guys wanna break?” Chan asks, chalking up the end of his cue.

You and Hyunjin share a look before both shaking your heads.

Chan laughs as he walks to the end of the pool table and bends over. He lines the cue up with the white ball and slides it between his fingers a few times before thrusting forward with so much power that all the other balls are sent in various directions across the table. He sinks a stripe and tosses a wink in your direction.

He goes twice more before it’s your turn. It’s a good thing you didn’t place any bets. You go to take your turn and your form is terrible, you don’t know what you’re doing. Hyunjin comes to assist you, offering a few tips. He stands behind you, placing one hand on your hip and one hand on your arm to help line you up.

“I don’t know if I’d listen to him,” Chan quips. “He might be worse than you.”

You do your best to ignore him and take your shot, but he’s right. You don’t hit anything.

The next time it’s your turn, Chan comes to your aid.

“It’s all about maths,” he says, placing his hands on you in the same way Hyunjin had, but he’s standing much closer. You feel your body get warmer and instinctively lean into him more. You can’t help it. “Geometry. You see the solid green ball?”

Your eyes flicker to where he’s pointing, but you could be looking at a rainbow-colored ball for all you know.

There have been very few times that it’s just been you, Chan and Hyunjin. And never simply hanging out for the hell of it. The relaxed mood of winter break and nearly empty house has provided this opportunity. However, it leaves you feeling uncertain about how to act. You’re not necessarily a completely different person around them alone…but you feel slightly apprehensive about showing either of them flirtatious or sexual attention in a shared setting.

“You can make a bank shot if you hit it at the right angle,” he tells you, bringing your attention back to the game as he guides your cue to the white ball. “Hit it right there—but you gotta use the right amount of force.”

Hyunjin is leaning against the wall, watching and rolling his eyes.

“Listen to this guy,” he scoffs and sips his beer. “Like he’s a professional or something.”

“Try it,” Chan says, stepping back to give you room.

You want to tell him to come back, that you still need more instructions. But how would that make Hyunjin feel? For you to so blatantly yearn for Chan’s touch right in front of him? You doubt that it would upset him…but would he be turned off by it? It is your day to be with him after all, not Chan.

You take a deep breath and shake your head, focusing on the green ball and where you need to hit it. You do exactly as Chan told you and it works.

You stand up straight with a smile on your face.

“What were you saying?” Chan asks Hyunjin.

Hyunjin says nothing, just sips from his beer again.

You take another turn and miss. You frown.

“Baby steps,” Chan consoles you.

Even with your newfound knowledge, you and Hyunjin still lose the game. Changbin yells down when the food arrives, but the three of you collectively decide to play again instead. Hyunjin and Chan continue their banter, and you feel somewhat like a pawn in their arguments. But not in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable. If anything, it helps you ease into being around them both simultaneously. Something you’ve wanted from the very beginning.

When it’s Chan’s turn to shoot, Hyunjin comes to your side, holding or touching you in some way. And when it’s Hyunjin’s turn, Chan does the same. The fact that they both seem comfortable with it and aren’t making a big deal out of it makes you feel a little better about being so blatantly shared by them.

“If I make this,” Hyunjin says, lining up his next shot. “You have to kiss me.”

Chan, standing next to you with his arm around your waist, pulls you closer to himself but keeps his eyes on the table. You look at the set up as well—the ball Hyunjin is aiming for is literally right next to the side pocket. It’d be nearly impossible to miss. He knows he’ll make it. He wants to kiss you right here? In front of Chan?

You offer a shrug in response, for lack of anything better to do. You don’t want to offend either of them. Touching and caressing, even like they did in the hot tub, is one thing, but full on kissing? Is that not too much? You look back and forth between them—both completely unbothered by the suggestion, though Chan’s grip around your waist seems to tighten.

Hyunjin shoots and sinks the ball in the side pocket, then stands with a proud smile plastered to his face. He saunters towards where you’re standing near the bar and your pulse quickens. Chan drops his hand from your waist and leaves your side, heading to the pool table. Your eyes remain on him as he picks up the chalk to rub across the tip of his cue. Is he giving you some privacy or something?

Hyunjin hooks a finger under your chin, forcing you to turn and look at him.

Your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to yours. You start to pull back—assuming it would be just a quick peck—but Hyunjin’s hand moves to the back of your head and holds you in place. His tongue snakes out, slipping past your lips and into your mouth. It’s been over two weeks since you last felt his soft, plump lips against yours. Two weeks since you’ve tasted him. You’d forgotten how much you missed it.

Hyunjin breaks the kiss, pulling away from you with a smile. You feel your face flush and instinctively look towards Chan. He’s watching you both, nodding with his tongue caught between his teeth on the side. You don’t know what to make of that look.

“It’s still your turn, Hyunjin.” he states.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin agrees. “It is my turn.”

He leans forward again to capture your lips. You laugh and push him away, back towards the table to play. You’re well aware of how long it’s been since he’s had you. It is, most definitely, his turn. As crude as it sounds.

Hyunjin shoots again but misses.

“I’m disoriented,” he attests.

Chan walks around the table, looking at the remaining options. When he sees a shot to take, he stops and bends over to line up his cue.

“If I make this, you have to kiss me, y/n.”

You do your best to keep a straight face. It’s the start of winter and the basement should feel much colder, but you’re warm all over. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s these men that seem hellbent on driving you insane.

Chan doesn’t give you an opportunity to agree or not. He shoots, and sinks it in. Of course he does. He straightens himself with a smile and beckons you over with a jerk of his head. You slide off your stool and he leans back against the pool table. As soon as you’re close enough, he reaches for your hip with his free hand and pulls you to him. You let out a quick gasp at the sudden movement. You’re pressed directly against him. You can hear your pulse thumping furiously and you can feel Hyunjin’s eyes on you.

Chan looks down at you, waiting. You slowly push up onto your tiptoes. This is a first for you—kissing one guy then another within a span of minutes. Chan doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. You have to remind yourself this isn’t their first rodeo. Though, you don’t want to think too much on that. You tilt your head back, getting the angle right as your head moves closer to his. When your lips connect, he kisses you back hungrily, almost as if asserting his dominance or expressing his need for you more.

He moves your hips against him, and you can feel cock. He’s hard. He likes this.

You break the kiss and take a step back, eyes still shut. You don’t want to open them. You don’t want to look at either of them right now. You contemplate taking off up the stairs to hide out in the den for the rest of the night. But you wouldn’t do that…you couldn’t. Not when you’re kinda starting to enjoy this too.

The sound of Chan shooting again causes your eyes to snap open just in time to see him scratch.

“I’m disoriented,” he mimics Hyunjin.

It’s now your turn. You slide past Chan and walk to the other side of the table, looking at the remaining balls. You don’t have many options.

“If I make this,” you say, settling on a shot and lining up your cue. “You both have to kiss each other.”

You spare a glance up at both of them to see their shocked expressions and grin. Good. They can have a taste of their own medicine.

But you miss.

“I’m disoriented,” you sass.

“Thank God for that,” Hyunjin says and you all laugh.

You play the remainder of the game without any more kissing. You and Hyunjin still wind up losing. Again. You start to rack up for another game when Hyunjin excuses himself to the bathroom.

As soon as he turns to leave, Chan comes up behind you and puts his hands on your hips. He spins you around to face him.

“Chan,” you warn, placing your hands on his chest.

“Hmmm?” he picks you up and sets you on the pool table, not giving you a chance to say anything else before his lips collide with yours.

His mouth and hands are needy, all over you the moment he has you alone. You feel powerless to him when he’s like this—how could you deprive him of what he so desperately wants? You kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist.

His hand finds one of yours and guides it between you, placing it on his hard cock. You bite down on his bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss as you squeeze his cock between your fingers.

“I’ve thought of all the different ways I could fuck you on this table over the last hour,” he asserts, trailing kisses along your jawline and down the side your neck.

“We can’t,” you reply.

He slips his hand beneath your sweatshirt to palm your breast.

“You don’t want me to?”

He forces you down onto the table with one hand and lifts your sweatshirt with the other. He pulls down the cup of your bra, and you let out a deep breath. You know you’d let him take you right here, even if the whole house were in the room.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, removing his hand from your shoulder as he leans down over you, taking your nipple into his mouth.

He swirls his tongue around it, keeping his eyes on yours, daring you to stop him. When you don’t, he pulls down the other side of your bra and latches his mouth on to that nipple.

“But, Hyunjin—”

He bites down on your nipple at that, and you gasp. He releases your nipple from his mouth and blows cool air over it, watching as it hardens.

“You’re mine, yeah?” he asks.

You keep your mouth shut and nod in response.

“You do what I want,” he pinches both of your nipples between his fingers, “when I want.”

“But what if he—”

You’re cut off again when he pinches your nipples harder, pulling on them and making you arch your back. The pain he’s inflicted sends shockwaves straight to your pussy. You don’t know how much of this she can take before turning completely feral. You bite on your lip to keep from crying out.

With your legs hooked around him, you pull him closer to you, wanting to grind yourself against him.

“There she is,” he says with a crooked smile. “I hope I didn’t spoil you too much on the trip.”

He continues to pinch and pull at your nipples.

“The things I said don’t change anything about this.”

The last few days of your vacation had been gentle…some might say loving. You hadn’t assumed he’d turned a new leaf sexually, though. You know what he likes, you know what he wants from you.

He releases your nipples and hooks a finger in the middle of your bra, using it to bring you up to him. He lets go when you’re upright and your sweatshirt falls, covering you up.

“When Hyunjin comes back down,” he says, hands caressing your thighs. “I want you to go upstairs and change into something more comfortable. No panties. No bra. Then come back here.”

Your mind immediately begins racing about why he would want you to do that, but you know better than to question him at a time like this.

“Okay?”

“Yes, Chan.”

He takes a step back and you lower yourself from the table just as Hyunjin returns. You slide away from Chan and head for the stairs, passing Hyunjin on your way.

“You leaving?”

“I’ll be back,” you tell him. “Just going to change.”

He nods at that, and you leave him behind. On your way to follow Chan’s instructions, you see Changbin and Rhiannon cuddled up on the couch. They don’t pay you any attention as you pass by, too caught up in whatever they’re watching. You scurry along to Hyunjin’s room and contemplate what to wear. What does he even mean by something comfortable? You settle on a pair of gym shorts and leave your sweater on but take off the bra beneath it, and put your hair up into a ponytail.

When you return to the basement, the lights above the pool table and bar are off. Just the soft glow of the TV against the back wall illuminates the room. You walk towards it and spot both Hyunjin and Chan seated on opposite ends of the sofa. You take a seat between them with Hyunjin on your left and Chan on your right. Hyunjin tosses a large blanket over you and you hug it tightly to you.

You sit with your legs folded on the couch, body rigid as you overthink which way, if any, you should lean.

Chan controls the TV, scrolling through various movie options. He doesn’t ask what anyone else cares to see before settling on one. Your eyes are very much looking at the screen, but they’re not focused. You don’t know what he picked. Your mind is still trying to figure out why he wanted you to change and if either of them would be offended should you choose to lay on one of them and not the other.

The movie starts to play, and you immediately recognize that the audio is in Korean. Chan is fucking with you, per usual. He knows there’s no way you’ll be able to concentrate on the film and read the subtitles while you’re sitting between them without any underwear on.

“You comfortable?” Chan’s voice breaks into your thoughts.

You don’t know if he means in general or if you’ve followed his instructions on getting comfortable. You turn to look at him and nod your head in response.

“Lay down,” he says softly but it’s not a request.

With Chan, he’s always in control.

With Hyunjin, it’s an equal balance between the two of you, and never to the extent of what Chan does.

You want to ask which way but you’re feeling all out of sorts at the dynamics. Showing yourself to be completely submissive in front of Hyunjin feels strange, but for all you know, he’s already aware. You don’t know what things they talk about amongst themselves.

You’re still looking at Chan when you feel Hyunjin’s hand on your shoulder. He pulls you to him, laying you against his side. He leaves his hand wrapped around you. You exhale a small breath and snuggle up to him, readjusting yourself so your legs are curled on the couch.

Chan lifts the blanket and pulls some of the excess fabric to cover his lap. He then brings your legs across his thighs and starts to caress them.

You revert your attention to the screen, still unaware of what movie is playing, but you can’t look anywhere else. Not at Chan, not at Hyunjin. You’re not stupid. You know something is about to happen, but not knowing what is bothering you.

Several minutes pass and you start to think maybe, just maybe you’re only going to watch the movie. Maybe Chan just wanted you to get changed, to know that you’re going commando. You know better than that, though.

His hand rubbing your leg slides up to your thigh, high enough to brush against the hem of your shorts with every caress. You tense up a little and Hyunjin begins to rub your arm. Chan moves your legs with his other hand so they’re side by side. He taps thrice on your thigh with his fingers and after this long with him, he doesn’t even have to say anything. You readjust yourself, shifting your hips to create a space between your thighs for him.

Chan resumes caressing the inside of your thigh, his hand inching higher and higher each time until his fingers brush against your pussy. He rubs along your slit with his finger, and you try your very best to remain still. You don’t know if Hyunjin is in on this. If not, are you supposed to contain yourself? Chan must know you won’t be able to.

You keep still until he slips a finger inside and you involuntarily squirm against him. You feel Hyunjin’s hand pause its movement on your arm. You can’t bring yourself to look up at him.

Your uncertainties are answered when his hand leaves your arm and dips beneath the blanket. He slips it beneath your sweatshirt, up your stomach and to your breasts.

Your head snaps up to look at him.

“No?” He asks innocently, and even Chan freezes his movements.

You don’t know if your shock stems from the fact that Hyunjin must be in on this too, or the idea of what is actually happening. This is something you have never done before, but you can’t deny that you want to. You’ve experienced them separately and here they are, offering you both of them simultaneously. And, apparently, giving you the choice to proceed or not.

Seeing the contemplative look in your eyes, Hyunjin begins to knead your breasts. Your eyes flutter shut as you allow yourself to focus on only what you’re feeling. His long, slender hands handle your breasts with a remembered ease. He divides his attention between both of them and you feel the familiar shockwaves sending tingles straight to the nerves of your clit. You clench your pussy around Chan’s finger and slowly open your eyes as you nod.

Being with two men at once is not something you had ever considered before…but where else could you try it safely besides here?

You lean back against Hyunjin and Chan continues slipping his finger in and out of your moistening pussy. Having both of them touching you has your brain on the fritz again.

“Take his cock out,” Chan speaks a command you never thought you’d hear.

Under his direction, you don’t think twice about lifting yourself up to push down Hyunjin’s pants. He lifts his hips, and you slide them down along with his boxers, freeing his cock. It springs up towards you. You take delight at the sight of it, already hard for you while Chan’s fingers continue to slowly pump in and out of your pussy. Is Chan hard too?

You lick your lips, hesitating on your next move.

You glance back at Chan who gives you a quick nod. You then turn to look up at Hyunjin.

“Ours.” His tone and that word are all that you need to help settle your spiking emotions.

Even though his statement directly opposes what you told Chan earlier, Hyunjin is correct. You belong to them both. They can enjoy you together. And you them. However, it’s not lost on you that Chan seems to be calling the shots.

You readjust your body once more and grip the base of Hyunjin’s cock, his hands still fondling your breasts beneath your sweatshirt. You lower your head towards his pulsating member and take it in your mouth. You hear a groan and honestly, you’re not sure which of them it came from.

You feel Chan’s cock twitch beneath your legs on his lap. For a brief moment you wonder if someone might try to come down to the basement and catch you all in quite a predicament. Everyone that’s home, though, seemed preoccupied themselves. And this is the SKZ house, after all. It probably would not be a first.

You begin to bob your head up and down on Hyunjin’s cock as you rock your hips against Chan’s fingers. You’re unable to fully wrap your head around what is happening so you try not to think about it any further, or anything else for that matter. You want to focus on what you’re feeling—pleasing and being pleased at the same time.

You let out a muffled moan as Chan’s thumb finds your clit. He applies gentle pressure and rubs it in circles. You continue to moan around Hyunjin’s cock and the sounds of your pleasure must set Chan off. In the next instant he withdraws his fingers and moves the blanket off you. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you up so you’re on your knees. He yanks down your shorts and palms your ass as you arch your back and stick it out towards him even more.

The change in position allows him better access to you, and you to Hyunjin. Hyunjin adjusts his hands, placing one on the back of your head while the other continues to grope your breasts.

Chan then turns sideways, resting one leg on the couch. He spreads your cheeks apart and then his mouth is all over your pussy while you greedily gobble Hyunjin’s cock. Chan alternates licking between your folds, fucking you with his tongue, and slurping your juices.

You grip the base of Hyunjin’s cock and stroke him as you lift your head for air. His hand moves to your neck, and he uses a finger to turn your head to face him. He leans forward to kiss you. You squeeze your eyes shut as you kiss him back, the sounds that escape your lips are something between a moan and whimper. Your hips are circling against Chan’s face of their own accord, your hand stroking Hyunjin, your tongue in his mouth. You feel like you could lose it.

You break the kiss.

“You feel good?” Hyunjin asks with a sly smile, tugging on your nipple beneath your sweatshirt.

“Too good,” you say. The wanton expression on your face reveals just how good you feel.

“I told you she’d like it,” he says to Chan.

Your head spins at his words. This was Hyunjin’s idea?

“Of course she does.” Chan pulls his face away from your pussy to respond.

You take your hand off Hyunjin’s cock and move away from Chan’s touch too. Your mind is racing, wondering when this was planned. Before you came back home? After you went upstairs? You truly thought that this had to of been Chan’s idea. If they were both in on this, you don’t want to feel like a complete bystander the entire time.

You’re on your knees still, but now fully upright when you look over to Chan.

“Take your pants off,” you tell him.

“Oh, she’s getting into it,” Hyunjin remarks with a light chuckle. You turn to him and silence his laughter with one look.

“And your shirts. Both of you.”

While they remove their clothing you maneuver the blanket so it’s under you and remove your own top before sitting down. You place a hand on each of their thighs, pulling on them until they both get the hint to slide closer to you. You bring your right hand to your mouth, spit on it, then place it on Chan’s cock. You do the same with your left for Hyunjin.

It gives you great satisfaction to see both of their heads hit the back of the couch as you start stroking them in sync. It’s nice to silence them after their smart comments.

Hyunjin’s hand is on you again, caressing up your side, past your ribs and over to your breasts. You turn to your left to kiss him and as you do, Chan lifts your right leg and drapes it between his. His hand, like a magnet, is on your pussy again, rubbing your clit with his fingers. You drape your left leg across Hyunjin, spreading yourself wide open between them.

You break the kiss with Hyunjin and turn to Chan. You lean towards him, slightly, and when he moves to meet you the rest of the way, you duck your head down to put your mouth on his cock. He grunts, placing his hand on the back of your head to force you down on him. You keep stroking Hyunjin with your left hand as your right hand and mouth work on Chan.

“Fuck, y/n. Your mouth feels fucking amazing,” Chan tells you.

You’d smile at that if your mouth wasn’t full of his cock.

You lift your head and move over to your left—Hyunjin’s turn again. You stroke him and bob your head up and down. You’re thankful to have this task, alternating back and forth between licking, sucking, and stroking their cocks to slightly distract you from the feeling of Hyunjin’s hands on your breasts and Chan’s on your pussy. You’d surely have flown off the rails by now without it.

You feel a hand on the back of your neck, but you don’t know who’s it is. It squeezes gently and pulls you upright. It moves to the front of your neck and pushes you back against the couch. You keep your hands gripped firmly around each of their cocks, switching up your pace from fast to slow. You slide your hands up to their tips, smearing around the clear liquid oozing out of them.

You look down to see that it’s Chan’s hand around your throat. Hyunjin’s hand replaces his on your pussy and you slide down on the couch a little, giving him room to enter you.

“Kiss me,” Chan breathes into your ear.

Your head snaps in his direction and you have no time to even think about the fluids you’re all swapping. Your lips are on his, his hand still gripping your throat as Hyunjin fucks you with his fingers. Hyunjin leans towards you from the other side, kissing, nipping, biting your neck. You keep stroking them both, adding more spit as needed. Your hips move back and forth rapidly against Hyunjin’s fingers while Chan uses his other hand to rub your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant between kissing Chan.

“Yeah?” He keeps your head pressed back against the couch.

“Yes, yes,” you reply.

Hyunjin’s other hand goes to your breasts again, pinching and pulling at your nipples. Your body begins to shake as you cry out for more.

“You gonna come for us?” Chan asks, slowing his movements against your clit to tease you.

You look him in the eye as you nod.

“Tell me what you are,” he demands, picking up the pace of his fingers.

You open your mouth to respond, but don’t know what answer he’s looking for. He slows his fingers down again, to which you pout. Does he want to hear that you’re his? Or theirs?

“Look at you,” he says. He uses his hand on your neck to guide your head, showing you where to look.

The three of you are all tangled together. Your hands on them, their hands in you, on you, choking you, pinching you.

Hyunjin’s mouth moves to your ear, nibbling on your lobe before whispering two words.

“Our slut.”

Chan turns your head back to him before you can even get caught up in the semantics of what Hyunjin has just said.

“Respectfully,” Chan adds with a stern look.

The word absolutely has negative connotations but here, with them, you know they don’t mean it as an insult. Considering your current predicament, you can even agree with their use of the word. But because it’s them, because you know them, you know how they feel for you—it feels shockingly endearing to hear.

“Say it,” Chan commands, moving his fingers rapidly against your clit again as Hyunjin presses harder against the walls of your pussy, each time he withdraws his fingers.

Hyunjin replaces his fingers on your nipple with his mouth, sucking on it.

“I’m—I’m—oh, fuck—” you can’t form a simple sentence between your whimpering and moaning.

Chan forces your head back against the couch once more, squeezing tighter around your throat. You feel like your entire body could fucking explode. You grit your teeth together, focusing the few remaining active brain cells you have left to speak.

“I’m your slut,” you manage to eke out.

Chan groans at this and covers your mouth with his again. Hyunjin bites down on your nipple and that, combined with Chan’s tongue greedily invading your mouth sends you flying off the top of Mount fucking Everest with no parachute.

Your hands, still gripped around their cocks, stop their movements as you give way to an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body thrashes around as you whine into Chan’s mouth. They don’t stop touching you, even as the spasms subside.

When you finally open your eyes, the world around you feels like a blur, but you’re still very much aware of the two men beside you, now gently caressing your body.

They don’t give you much time to recover.

“He’s gonna fuck you now,” Chan announces.

Your legs feel weak and your thighs quiver as you try to bring them back together. As much as you’d like a reprieve, your greediness for them is more prevalent.

Hyunjin slips off the couch and gets on his knees on the floor. He slides you down too, then turns you around. Chan moves over so your upper body is between his legs. He’s stroking his cock as he watches Hyunjin handle you.

Hyunjin pulls you back by your hips until your ass and thighs are pressed against him, letting you feel his cock as it gets hard again. He caresses your ass, then up your back before slowly pushing you down. You have nowhere to look but Chan.

That’s not a complaint, though. He’s the very essence of confidence seated in front of you, hand on his cock. Your eyes trail down from his, past his muscular shoulders and ripped abdomen to his cock, eyeing it hungrily.

You sway your hips from side to side until Hyunjin holds you in place and you whine in protest. You need one of them inside. Somehow, someway. His grip on you is tight as he starts to tease your slit, spreading your slick all around. You move Chan’s hand out of the way to take over stroking him.

“Wait,” he says, hooking a finger under your chin to bring your eyes back to him.

His gaze flickers up to Hyunjin and he gives a curt nod before looking back down at you. You feel the tip of Hyunjin’s cock at your opening and your first instinct is to close your eyes and drop your head.

“Look at me,” Chan orders.

You keep your eyes locked on him, biting your lower lip as Hyunjin, at a painstakingly slow rate, enters you. A moan escapes your lips when he’s finally buried in, to the hilt. He pulls out just as slowly, then thrusts forward with force, the sound of his thighs hitting yours is loud in the quiet basement.

Chan drops his finger from your chin, and you position your mouth over his cock. You spit on it, then work your hand around it to lather it up before gripping at the base and stroking him while Hyunjin fucks you from behind. You press the tip of Chan’s cock to your lips. You kiss it, then smack it against your lips a couple times, making him groan.

“Stick your tongue out,” he says, reaching up to take out your hair tie and let your hair fall around your face. “And keep doing that.”

You open your mouth, stick out your tongue, and do as you’re told.

“Fuck,” he tangles his hands in your hair. When he has a good grip, he forces your head down onto him. All. The. Way. You relax your jaw and tongue and breathe through your nose to accommodate the abrupt invasion.

Hyunjin delivers a smack to your ass as he plows into you, and you moan around Chan’s cock.

“Do that again,” Chan tells him.

Hyunjin grunts, rubbing your ass before smacking it again, harder than the first time. The sounds you make are muffled, with Chan’s cock in your mouth, but he can feel the vibrations.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Hyunjin says as he completely pulls out of you. He rubs the tip of his cock against your dripping pussy. “You like fucking us both, jagiya?”

Chan slightly releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to lift your head. His cock falls from your mouth, and it’s coated in your saliva, as is your chin.

“I do,” you admit. You couldn’t lie if you wanted to. “I really do.”

You resume stroking Chan with one hand while the other slides up his torso and across his abs. You lower your mouth back onto him, sucking and stroking in unison as Hyunjin slams back into you. The motions from Hyunjin’s deep and fast strokes help move your mouth on Chan’s cock.

“Shit—y/n, slow down,” Chan gasps suddenly. He uses his hands in your hair to try and pull you away. You shake your head, mouth still wrapped around his cock. You look him dead in the eyes as you start moving your hips to fuck Hyunjin back. They both made you crumble. Now it’s their turn.

“Fuck me harder, Hyunjin,” you say, holding Chan’s cock at an angle to lick up the shaft from base to tip, keeping your eyes on his.

“I’m gonna come, jagiya,” Hyunjin moans from behind you, pounding into you even harder.

“Please,” you reply. And you don’t know what comes over you with the words that fly out of your mouth next. “Fill up your little fucking slut. Both of you.”

Hyunjin grunts, his breath coming out in spurts as he comes.

“My fucking God,” Chan groans.

You put your mouth back on his cock and his hands fall from your hair. He leans back against the couch, resigned to letting you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, shaking his head, but he doesn’t break eye contact either as he comes in your mouth.

You keep sucking his cock and rocking your hips back against Hyunjin.

Hyunjin is the first to pull away after he’s finished spilling himself inside your pussy. He withdraws himself completely. When Chan’s body finishes jerking, you slide your mouth off him.

“Show me,” he says.

You open your mouth to show him.

“Good girl. Swallow.”

You close your mouth and gulp down his fluids.

In the next instant he slides to the edge of the couch and pulls you against him, kissing you. It’s a hard, but simple kiss. When he pulls back, his brown eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t put a name to. A soft smile spreads across his face as he leans his forehead against yours.

“I told you I can share,” he whispers quietly enough for only you to hear.

He leans back against the couch then jerks his head towards Hyunjin. You turn around to see him splayed out on the ground, catching his breath. You let out a laugh and crawl over to him. He turns his head to you.

“Who are you even?” he asks, exasperated.

You lower yourself down to kiss him, just as hard as Chan had kissed you. Hyunjin moans, grabbing the back of your head to hold you against him as his tongue slips past your lips, his tongue swirling around yours. You relax into the kiss. Not a few hours ago you would have been concerned about kissing him like this after everything that has just transpired, but not anymore. You’re theirs just as much as they are yours. For now.

After wiping yourselves down, the three of you end up pulling the pillows down from the couch onto the floor and use the other spare blankets to make a pallet to lay on top of. You lay in the middle of Chan and Hyunjin but at some point, end up cuddled up to Hyunjin. He’s truthfully the better snuggler. You don’t know when you fell asleep but when you open your eyes again, you don’t even know what time it is. There’s a new movie playing, and a hand has crept between your thighs.

You lift your head from Hyunjin’s chest to see he’s still sleeping. You turn to look over your shoulder and see Chan wide awake, looking at you. He grabs your hand and brings it to his cock. It’s hard, and a look of need is ablaze in his eyes.

“You’re insatiable,” you whisper, rolling over towards him.

“I didn’t have enough,” he whispers back. “I need to fuck you, too, y/n.”

He sits up, with his back against the couch and pulls you onto him. He brings his hand to his mouth to spit on before rubbing it against your pussy, then around his dick. He lowers you down on to him and lets out a long sigh. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your bare chest against his.

He quietly fucks you. Very little is said. You’re not surprised by how quickly you become wet for him and start fucking him back.

Even with a comatose Hyunjin next to you, this doesn’t feel as awkward as you may have once assumed. It doesn’t feel sneaky, doesn’t feel like cheating. They both can have you whenever they want, and you them.

a/n: 10 pages in the word doc of pure smut for you guys. how was it?

since the tag list has not been working, i created a mailing list so i can email those of you who want to know when the chapter is being posted. if you'd like to sign up, click the link below. the email may initially go to your spam folder, it will be coming from [email protected]. not spam, just me :)

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creedslove · 6 months ago

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MAKING OUT WITH THE BRIDE'S FATHER - JOEL MILLER HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: the reason why I love Pedro so much is that he always makes me feel alive no matter how bad the situation is 💟

A/N #2: besties I'm so sorry about this Headcanon, I know it's sooooo bad, but I had the idea several weeks ago I think I don't really remember and I've been writing a little bit every day since but I went through a lot in a short time and I lost inspiration but at the same time it was really bothering me to see it lying in my drafts unfinished, I'm sorry it sucks, but I love you all 💕

• you met Sarah Miller when she was only a freshman girl, completely lost in her first day of college after she was dropped off and looking like a scared little deer even if she tried assuring you she was alright

• you were a few years older than her and you'd been there, so you pretended to believe she was alright but still offered her some help to get her dorm organized and simply find herself around campus; she quickly accepted it and that was how your friendship had started

• during the semester, you became one of Sarah's best friends; as you were always there to help her out, advise her or simply offer her some company or comfort the days she felt lonely and missed her family too much - you knew she didn't know her mom and she was raised by her dad and her uncle which you thought it was pretty awesome of them, but other than that, you didn't actually hear much about them, as you both often talked about other stuff

• and so the years passed and soon enough Sarah was graduating and marrying her college sweetheart, Ben, who'd been introduced to her by you during a party, so it was more than exciting to be invited to that beautiful party

• so you packed your bags, got yourself a decent place on Airbnb and went to Austin, to celebrate the wedding of your beloved friend, due to conflicting schedules, you could only get there a few days before the wedding, which ruined your plans of meeting Sarah's family, having dinner together and getting to the city, since the most you were able to do was just handle the last adjustment and details for your dress, help Sarah with the arrangements for the party and of course, party hard in her bachelorette party

• the bachelorette party was partially organized by you, as you never really knew how those things were supposed to go, other than just the scenes you saw in several movies, should you go to a male strip club? Should there be men half naked rubbing themselves against you and your friends? You weren't so sure, so you talked to Sarah and you picked a nice nightclub to dance and drink

• so you and your group of friends hit the club, all in your best clothes, nice heels and Sarah wearing a cute little party veil so everyone would know she was the bride to be. The night was perfect and you danced and drank as much as you wanted, knowing you could just call yourself a Uber to go home

• you stayed until the end of the party, your group of friends had all left home in different Uber rides and Sarah was picked up by Ben just some moments ago, so you grabbed your purse, paid for your part of your check and went to the parking lot, since your uber wouldn't take much to get there

• and that was when you saw him: easily the most handsome man you'd ever seen, older than you of course, tall, broad, brown hair salt and peppered and leaning against his truck. He seemed to be waiting for someone, but his attention was immediately shifted towards you, and he couldn't pay attention to anything else

• you just caught Joel's attention as you walked out of that bar; you didn't seem drunk or wasted, but definitely a little tipsy and while he wasn't a creep - Sarah had accidentally called him and asked him to pick her up and there was no way in the world he wouldn't come for his little girl, even if she wasn't little anymore and was going to be a married girl in a couple of days

• and even when she explained to her dad that she didn't mean to call him and he didn't need to pick her up because she was already going home with Ben - clearly drunk, which bothered Joel but he couldn't actually do anything about it - he said he was just going back to sleep, omitting the fact he was already at the parking lot waiting for her. She wasn't a child anymore, but he really missed when she was one because then, she would still be his sweet little Sarah wearing her cute star PJs to bed, and not exiting the club completely drunk like she did a while ago

• but all that whining went away in the blink of an eye once Joel spotted you, because he couldn't recall seeing a better looking woman at a bar in so fucking long, that or it was because he hadn't gotten laid in so long, his balls might've been blue but he wasn't just gonna empty them on the first woman he saw, so he just kept using his hand for it

• but you... He swallowed hard and decided to take a few steps towards you, after all, it wouldn't hurt just to make sure you were doing okay and no creeps were bothering you, because he wasn't a creep, he just wanted to make sure you were alright

• and when you saw Joel walking towards you, you felt your breath caught in your chest. He was so freaking handsome, big and manly, the kind of man to put you on all fours and fuck you while he whispers into your ear what a good girl for him you really are

• and you didn't remember much of your interaction with him, when you realized what you were doing, you were pressed against the hood of his truck, kissing him hungrily while his strong hands squeezed your body and roamed all over you; your hands messing up with his curls, tugging at them slightly as you moaned into his mouth, against better judgement you could let yourself be fucked by him at that moment

• however, you didn't even know his name, it was a dangerous game your body begged you to play, but your rational side was still too alert for it, so when you managed to see your Uber had arrived, you found strength in yourself to get rid of his intoxicating touch in your body and simply run to the car, you should've asked his name, but you didn't

• and the following days after that night at the bar, as much as you tried thinking of something else, all you could focus on, was that handsome man and the way he held you, he gripped your body and kissed you; it was different from any kind of touch you'd experienced, that mysterious man seemed addictive to you

• but as the wedding approached, your lustful thoughts had to be placed aside so you could focus on all the tasks you had to do: help Sarah get ready, check the venue for her and so on, not to mention getting ready yourself for the event, being so busy you totally skipped the part where you'd meet her family

• as you waited in church for her with the rest of your friends, you couldn't help but being extremely shocked to see Sarah walking down the aisle by her father, whom you had never actually seen before that night at the bar, but he happened to be your mysterious fling from the parking lot

• Joel also couldn't believe the hot girl he'd made out with was his daughter's best friend, he knew he was older than you even if you both hadn't much time to talk, but he didn't expect that

• you two had to stop those feelings aside so you could focus on the ceremony, but the way Joel kept glancing at you, made it pretty obvious you'd have a very interesting wedding reception afterwards 😉

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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queen-of-the-avengers · 8 months ago

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Game Day

Pairing: NHL!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You're a nanny for a famous NHL star player whom you have a major crush on. You take his son to one of his games, which he loves, but it's revealed later on that Steve wasn't playing for his son... he was playing for you.

Squares Filled: engagement (2021) for @avengersbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You’ve been sitting in the driveway for five minutes just contemplating whether or not you should go inside the house. This is your job. You shouldn’t be nervous. You’ve been coming here for two years. Should you look for a new job? Would that make things better? With a shake of your head, you get out of your car and head up the porch steps to the house.

You don’t even have to knock. Steve knows you’re coming over.

“Steve? I’m here,” you announce as you enter.

Steve doesn’t come down right away and you breathe a sigh of relief. You’ve had a major crush on him since you started working for him, but you’re his kid’s nanny. You can’t do anything with him anyway. Instead of facing your feelings, you push them down in hopes you can survive another day. It sucks because you love babysitting his son, Jasper. He’s such a sweet boy and has grown into a very energetic kid. You’ve been with Steve and Jasper since Jasper was born after Steve’s wife left him.

“Y/N!” Jasper squeals when he sees you.

Jasper runs over to you on little legs, and you scoop him up when he gets to you.

“Hi, Jasper! I’ve missed you so much!”

“I miss you!” he grins and hugs you tightly.

Steve comes jogging down the stairs to the left of you and your mouth immediately goes dry at his outfit. He is on the New York Rangers NHL team so he’s dressed in skin-tight clothing that will go under his official uniform. However, the skin-tight spandex stretches over his chest so deliciously that it’s taking everything in you not to set Jasper down and feel his bulging muscles. He has a game he needs to get going to so he asked you to babysit last minute. His sister was going to take him but she backed out at the last second due to medical reasons.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he says.

You put Jasper down and he runs off presumably to get something for you.

“It’s no problem. I love being here.”

“Well, you know my schedule and everything about Jasper. I won’t have my phone on me so if you need anything, call Bucky. I asked him to be on call if anything happens.”

“Steve, don’t worry about any of this. I got this.”

“You’re the best.” He brings you in for a hug which causes you to stiffen up. His clothes don’t do a good job of hiding how strong he is. He is built like a monster even though he is one of the sweetest men you’ve ever known. “Oh, I’ll be home late. The team will probably want to hang out afterward, win or lose.”

“You guys are going to win,” you smile and pull away from him, “but I don’t mind staying a bit later. Be careful, it’s snowing a lot.”

“Nice to know you worry about me,” he winks.

Just like that, he’s gone. You let out the breath you’ve wanted to let out since seeing Steve in his uniform. Jasper comes back with a picture he was coloring shortly before you got here.

“Alright, Jas, what do you say? Want to surprise Daddy at work?”

“Yeah!” he giggles.

“Okay, let’s get ready.”

You were planning on going to the game with tickets you bought yourself, but what better way for Jasper to show his support than to be there for one of his dad’s games? Steve knows you love going to his games so he’s reserved seats for you if you ever wanted to go. It doesn’t matter if you go or not, those seats will always be available to you for every single game he plays.

You and Jasper get ready before getting into the car, and you make the careful yet short long ride to the stadium he’s playing in. The snow is coming down but not hard enough to keep people off the roads. Luckily, you’ve lived in New York all your life so you can navigate a few icy roads.

When you pay for parking, you two head inside and find your seats quickly. They are some of the best seats in the house, right in front. There is a small ledge between the glass and the wall that someone can stand on if they’re small enough. Jasper is only two, so his small feet fit perfectly on the ledge. You allow him to stand there while holding his legs so he doesn’t fall over.

Steve and his team skate onto the ice, and Jasper gets so excited that he starts doing a little dance and clapping his hands. Damn, he looks so good in his hockey uniform. He doesn’t have his helmet on yet since the game hasn’t started.

“Daddy!” he grins and taps on the glass with his tiny hands.

Steve skates around to get used to the feel of the ice beneath him. He looks at the audience in curiosity when his eyes lock on yours from across the rink. A smile breaks out on his face but he keeps himself from skating over to you. He waves at Jasper who waves back and you almost melt at how cute their relationship is.

The game is about to start but he is going to do his best to make every shot knowing you’re out there watching him.

The game starts off without a hitch, and you sit on the edge of your seat hoping Steve’s team wins. It’s neck and neck until the ref calls for a timeout to settle a disagreement on the points the Rangers just scored. Steve takes this moment to skate over to you and Jasper while taking his helmet off. He puckers his lips which means he wants a kiss from Jasper, and the small child kisses the glass since that’s the best he can do. Steve kisses the glass right over his son’s before winking at you.

It’s the smile combined with the wink that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. Why did he wink at you? Was he hinting at something more? Was it just friendly? He’s sending you mixed signals that are making you confused, but the last thing you’re going to do is ruin it and confront him about it.

The rest of the game went really well for the Rangers, and they won 38-30 just as the buzzer sounded off. Everyone who is in the stands are Rangers fans, so almost everyone cheers for that team. Steve and his team had to get off the ice fairly quickly and into the locker rooms so you didn’t have time to catch him after the game. Plus, he did say that he and his team are going to hang out afterward, win or lose, so it’s time to pack up and get back home.

“Alright, did you like that game?” you ask Jasper when you walk into the house.

“Yeah! Daddy was awesome!”

“Yeah, he was,” you grin. “I’m glad you had a good time but it’s nearly bedtime. I’ll read you your favorite story.”

“Okay!”

“Go brush your teeth and I’ll be right there.”

He runs off to his room while you grab a boxed dinner from the freezer. It has to microwave for ten minutes so you pop that into the microwave and heat it before going to Jasper’s room. He’s not a fan of brushing his teeth at night which is why it only took him thirty seconds to do it, but you’re working on getting him to do it longer.

Storytime only takes six minutes because Jasper is wiped out by today’s events. He didn’t do a lot of running around but he did do a lot of cheering and eating stadium foods. Bedtime has always been easy for Jasper, which you are grateful for.

By the time you got changed into comfier clothes, your dinner was done. For the next two hours, you eat dinner, drink some wine that Steve bought specially for you, and watch one of your favorite TV shows that you’ve seen a million times.

You don’t even realize you fell asleep until Steve got home two hours after that. He shakes off the snow from his jacket before hanging it up and finds you sleeping on the couch with the TV on low volume. Your half-eaten meal and empty wine glass sit on the coffee table, and he lets you sleep a little while longer as he cleans up your mess quietly.

“Doll, wake up,” he whispers and moves some hair away from your face.

You jerk awake but calm immediately when you see it’s Steve. You look at the time and almost curse because it’s so late. You weren’t meant to fall asleep but you had an extra glass of wine that put you right out.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I don’t mind. I only woke you up because you can sleep on something much more comfortable than this couch.”

“No, I should just go home. It’s pretty late.”

You get up and stretch, and Steve can’t help but look at the patch of skin that shows when your shirt rides up slightly.

“Y/N, it’s snowing pretty bad out there. I had a hard time seeing the road while coming back. Just sleep in my guest room. Honestly, it’s not a problem.”

You should have said no. You should have insisted on going home, but you didn't. Instead, you nod in agreement and follow him to the guest room. You have kept some of your clothes in here from when you had to stay the night previously, so you use those for tonight. After brushing your teeth and doing half of your skin-care routine, you get into bed. Snow isn’t as loud as rain when it hits the window, but you can see it through the shadows and patches of moonlight outside.

It’s hard to fall asleep knowing Steve is only a few doors down from you. Suddenly, there is a knock on the door and you know Jasper didn’t do that. You get out of bed and tread through the darkness to the door. Steve is standing outside fiddling with his hands. There is enough moonlight to light up his face so you don’t bother putting the lights on.

“Is everything okay with Jasper?”

“Yeah, he’s okay. He’s sleeping. I just didn’t thank you for bringing him to the game today.”

“I was already planning on going and figured what harm could it do to bring him along? He had a lot of fun, and he loved seeing you on the rink. You played really well.”

“Yeah, I had someone I needed to impress out there.”

Your heart beats faster at his words but you try to keep the conversation neutral.

“Well, your son was very impressed by you.”

Steve raises his arms to lean them against the frame of the door and moves a bit closer to you. Even in the darkness, you can see how blue his eyes are.

“That’s not who I was trying to impress.” You don’t think you can say anything to him even if you want to. What would you even say? He leans in closer until there is only a few inches between you. “Were you impressed by me?”

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

“If you tell me you’re impressed, I’m about to kiss you. So, were you impressed?”

“Maybe a little,” you tease.

He leans in the rest of the way and kisses you, and just like that, everything between you two changes. He only kisses you that night but makes it a point to do so after every game he plays for the rest of the season. Even when the season is over and done with, he still kisses you as if you’re the only woman that matters to him… and you are.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fan fic #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fic #marvel #marvel fluff #mcu #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

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weebsinstash · 1 year ago

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As much as I want to have children by this man, let's take a moment to sip our platonic yandere Miguel juice

-i can't decide which sex he'd be more partial to in a 'child'/you since in the movie there was Gabriella but in the comics he eventually has a son who becomes the next Spiderman but--

-as a girl i just naturally think of a lot of those sorts of gender specific ideas 👉👈 he's this big scary hulking intimidating threat and his "daughter" is the one melting his cold exterior

-doesnt matter if you're a grown ass woman, Miguel sees you struggling to braid your hair and suddenly here he is, full dad mode, doing it for you,and depending on how close you two are, maybe he disguises it with "ugh, stop spending so much time messing around with that. If I do it for you will you get back to work? 🙄", but really it's just your new self proclaimed dad/tio wanting to help braid your hair and help you feel pretty and, oh, how he can fondly remember the last time he helped braid "his daughter's" hair...

-of course this evolves to him just loving to do things with your hair. Braid it, wear it natural, style it, use products on it, hes got you. you were just trying to put your hair in a lazy updo like a ponytail or bun and this man doesn't let you leave until he's got you completely combed out, hair braided with ribbons, and of course this entire time youre awkwardly sitting there in a chair in his absolute cave of a workstation with this gargantuan 6'9 man there, "so how was your day? Staying out of trouble?"

-really I mean. Is stealing other people's kids NOT technically in character for him. You're unfortunate enough to trauma bond with this man and you're never getting rid of him

-you hear Miles Morales call him tio (as in the tio meaning dude) and you jokingly teasingly start calling him tio, which Miguel secretly pretends is the version that means uncle. You're just constantly joking around or looking up at him with these big pouty eyes, "but tio 🥺 can't I PLEASE--" and its like. Lmao people know that if they need to ask Miguel for a favor, that it increases their chances to have you ask in their stead

- I mean, as a female adult abused as a child by my own father, raised by a single mom myself, like...

Reader flinches away when Peter B goes to give you a supportive pat on the back or comes in for a high five after a mission and you force yourself to laugh because you're feeling more than just a little awkward and in the spotlight. "Oh, sorry, that was dumb!" And they eventually get you to kind of anxiously word vomit "my dad used to just kind of, rough me up sometimes when I did something wrong! It-it could've been a lot worse honestly, but, it-it just makes me kinda jumpy around guys sometimes! It's not a big deal, or personal or anything. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad 🥺"

Peter B, Jessica, and Miguel all there as older parental figures and also literal parents, immediately exchange looks and agree like "oh hell naw, don't like that" and you get silently adopted by all three of em right then and there

-if it's a physically abusive father and you're still the victim of abuse, I imagine your dad had some suspicious figures suddenly show up in the middle of the night to terrify and threaten the shit out of him and suddenly you aren't getting as manhandled anymore

-can you imagine, like, you show up to Spider Society one day with a black eye "oh, this? It's, it's nothing. My dad is just, he's about to make police captain and he's really stressed about it is all" cue all your friends mentally high fiving around the table because your abusive piece of shit dad is going to die and you don't even know. When it happens they'll all be "oh no, sweetie, I'm SOOOO sorry :(" meanwhile they're thrilled bc now you don't have any parents and they can weasel in there as your new family, schedule your birthday parties, monopolizing more of your time, things like that

-goddd I just imagine it could become some kind of weird fucked up enmeshed scenario where the structure it's providing for your life is actually good for you meanwhile Miguel is like, retroactively kind of soothing some of his trauma both from his own childhood and what happened with the second universe he broke that it's just like. You're a grown ass adult and this man is tucking you in goodnight and saying "te amo, mija" at the doorway and you bet his ass is going to stand there and not let you sleep until you say it back. He knows you're just absolutely seething at him and he'll still refuse to leave without a grumbling "te amo, papá 🙄"

-He eventually just has you doing so much shit and depending on him so much that it starts to become second nature to you. one day you're in the Society doing one of the odd jobs you're allowed to help with and suddenly you're thinking, "Ugh I actually don't know what to do next, I wish Papá was here to-- WAIT SHIT NO I MEAN MIGUEL--"

-lmaooooo as a non Spanish speaker I keep thinking of how awwwwwful it would be if he actually forces you to learn Spanish. Not inherently because there's anything wrong with Spanish, but, I'm not always smart, and I can just SEE him quizzing your ass, forcing you to have entire conversations in Spanish, always clicking his tongue or chuckling at you when you make a mistake and he just thinks you're so cute struggling to learn 🥰 man hears you're trying to take extra lessons from Miles and he instantly drops everything he's doing to go track the little scamp down. Insert meme "I can forgive being an anomaly but I draw the line at teaching Reader bad Spanish"

-siiiiiiigh eventually the day comes when you're in big danger and you need his help, maybe you disobeyed him and was hanging out with some other Spiders in another dimension when there was a sudden villain attack, and he comes to your rescue as a villain does something dramatic like has a gun to your head or a knife to your neck and the second you see him you're just overwhelmed wirh a sense of relief, calling out for him, calling him dad/tio/papá whatever, and he's just like 😭❤️ pumping his fist internally, like YES you are so grounded when you get back home but also 🥰 you finally called him dad without him having to twist your arm 🥰 nevermind if the "villain" who kidnapped you was actually a Spider who owed him a favor, and this whole thing was to teach you a lesson about listening to your Papá, that's not important ❤️

-Miguel who forces you to learn Spanish vs Miguel who forces you to be Catholic. I can excuse kidnapping and forced adoption but I draw the line at making me practice religion 💀 no but seriously, he probably does have certain morals and values he instills/forces upon you if he thinks you need them, and he'll probably be one of those fathers, "are you leaving the house dressed like that? Go change" and orders you not to hang out with certain people he doesn't approve of or thinks have bad character (like hobie lmao)

-bruh you two will be on a super serious important mission and this man will be like "it's dark, hold my hand so we dont get separated"

Eventually it comes to a point where you're, not perfectly behaved but, just about. If someone finds Miguel, it means you're not very far away, or vice versa. Members of the Society quickly learn not to make any advances on you or make any "adult" comments unless they want to get suspiciously hurt during a personal training session by the big boss himself. You think you're safe just cause Miguel isn't around? Nah, cause then you have Peter B and Jess keeping an eye on you, and, not that YOU'RE aware of the extent, but, if Miguel ever gets worried, he can just ask Lyla what you've been getting up to, since your modified little daypass has her installed into it and she can track your every move ❤️ helicopter parent? Oh honey, you have NO idea...

#yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere x reader #yandere spiderverse #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 11 months ago

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Productive Ways to Make Up | Dean Winchester

✦ pairing — Dean Winchester x afab!female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.1k

✦ request — Maybe taking charge of the plus size reader. Like hot angry rough sex. Spanking maybe? Idk that just seems like it would be a good one. Maybe just they get in a fight during the holidays. Like at the readers family’s Christmas party. Then dean takes charge of her and they have angry rough sex

✦ warnings — nsfw, teasing, hints of a fight, smut, spanking (reader receiving), angry sex, rough sex, fellatio, face fucking (reader receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), creampie, aftercare.

✦ author's note — changed this to a New Year’s party just to fit the date better.

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The fight got out of hand easily, as things often did with Dean. It was one of those fights that you didn’t know how escalated to this, on this day specifically when you needed him on his best behavior.

Your parents had been excited to finally see you for more than a couple of hours, happy that your hectic schedule had given you a break for New Year’s. You had to skip Thanksgiving and Christmas because you were out of town, your mom didn’t take it well. This party was supposed to be perfect for everybody.

Dean rarely made things hard for you, but he had to do it today, apparently.

You left early, making up an emergency with Dean’s brother. Poor Sam, you had to drag him into this just so your dad wouldn’t start hating your partner out of nowhere.

For the first time in a very long time, getting home was worse for your mood. Dean didn’t help, glaring at you as you peeled off your jacket as if you had done anything wrong, as if you started the stupid fight.

He grabbed you by the hips before you could leave the living room, grip tight and strong. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bedroom. Or am I not allowed?”

“Watch it,” he warned.

“I need to call my mom and assure her Sam isn’t dying.”

Dean pushed you against the wall to stop you, trapping you with his warm body to the cold wallpaper.

“Dean…” You struggled against his hold.

“Oh, honey, you know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

In most circumstances, you would wiggle against his hands just to egg him on. But this time, you honestly simply wanted to annoy him into letting you cross the living room and hopefully find the warmth of your cozy bed where you could call your mom and take a nap.

Dean had other plans. You hated that you weren’t as against them as you wanted to be. After all, it was a more productive way to take out your anger than yelling at each other in the middle of the half-empty living room on New Year’s Eve.

Your breaths mingled as both of you opened your mouths to say something. Dean took charge, as he often did with these things, and leaned in to kiss you.

A hand of his came up to grip your chin, forcing your mouth open to slip his tongue past your red lips. You squirmed, feeling your skirt ride up at the movement between the wall and Dean’s bulk.

“Don’t be a brat,” he gritted out. Yet he traced the outside of your thighs with both hands, forcing your skirt to bunch up at your hips. Humming against your skin, he manhandled you toward the couch.

His hands fell on your ass. He made it jiggle with a light spank, laughing when you gasped in surprise. “That okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you consented.

He immediately spanked you again. “Count for me.”

“One,” you mumbled as the first slap landed. Dean hummed, you could picture the smile on his face, and did it again. “Two.”

“See how easy everything is when you listen to me?” He sounded almost condescending. Slapping you again, harder, he waited for you to count once more before rubbing his hand over the spot he had just hit.

He made you count to ten, careful not to make you cry. No matter how pretty you looked with tears streaming down your face, this was clearly about control, not a punishment.

Rubbing your ass, Dean ripped your pantyhose and spread your legs open. “Of course you’re fucking dripping already.”

He sat on the couch and brought you onto his lap. You would probably ruin his new pants, but by the way he grabbed you and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, that was his intention.

You moaned as he pushed his tongue against yours. Before you could start enjoying yourself with the kiss, Dean pulled away. He even laughed when you whined.

“Be patient,” he told you. “You aren’t supposed to enjoy this too much.”

You pouted, naively thinking it would convince him. Dean wasn’t in a playful mood, he just wanted to remind you who was in charge and why. His grip on you tightened, bringing you flush against him.

The tent in his pants brushed against your sensitive skin. He purposefully drove you to move your hips backward, then forward. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him of your own volition.

"You're enjoying this, huh."

Dumbly, you hummed. His laugh almost snapped you out of it, but it was too late. You cried out as he stopped you from keeping grinding. It bordered on torture, feeling the texture of his pants on your bare skin, rough and so readily available for you to get off.

Dean pushed you to your knees and undid his pants in haste, pulling his cock out of his underwear swiftly. He petted your head for a moment, then tapped his cock against your cheek. “Open up.”

You did so, resting your hands on your thighs in expectancy.

He caressed your cheek before shoving his cock into your mouth, only careful not to get to your throat for a moment. As he hit your throat, you gagged from the force, then relaxed as your brain registered what was happening.

He groaned as you began to hollow your cheeks, thrusting his hips up and choking you with his cock. You gagged once again, balling up your fists. Not touching him was worse than the sensation in your throat, that one you weirdly enjoyed, something about him causing you to gag and slobber all over his cock simply did something to you.

He knew.

“Should have known this would shut you up.” He rutted his hips, groaning deeply as his cock slipped down your throat.

He grunted as your tongue slid along his cock, gripping your face tightly so he could fuck your mouth at a quicker pace. The only indication you got that he wanted to come was him pressing your face to his pelvis.

Before you could taste the familiar salty cum, he pushed you off his cock and caressed your neck with his thumbs as he regained his breath.

"On your back."

You understood he meant on the couch simply because you were sure he would never fuck you into the floor when your backs were so ruined from all the hunting. So you laid on the couch you had fucked on more times than you could count and waited for him to get inside you.

Dean showed you two fingers. "Keep these warm for me, yeah?"

You nodded and opened your mouth, eager to suck on his fingers. Dean cackled, shaking his head.

"Can't leave this pussy unattended, honey." He teased at your entrance, gathering the slick dripping down your labia. "So good for me," he mumbled to himself.

Sliding his middle and ring finger inside you, Dean hummed to himself. "Knew you'd be warm and ready for me."

Teasingly, he curled his fingers. You whimpered.

"More." You couldn't help yourself.

He started shoving his fingers in and out, thrusting like he had done this a million times before. He almost had. The lewd sounds bouncing against the walls made your skin grow hot, feeling yourself getting more aroused at the wet echoes.

You squeezed around his fingers and rolled into his hand. Dean tsked, shaking his head. He tried to hide his proud smile from you as best as he could, but the cockiness always won over. His thumb grazed your clit as he wiggled his digits inside you, crisscrossing them.

"You know what? Go ahead, fuck yourself on my fingers. Can't do all the work for you."

Rutting against Dean's hand, you allowed yourself to enjoy the tendrils of pleasure every time his thumb made contact with your clit and his digits became buried inside you. He would stroke against your movements when you would get too complacent, reminding you he was still in charge. As if you would have it any other way.

You gasped out his name, hands floundering in search of something to hold onto. Dean removed his fingers before you could even grasp your orgasm.

Taunting you, he licked his fingers clean. "You would have made your mess already if you hadn't been so difficult earlier. You know that, right?"

You mumbled a reminder, "You were difficult too."

"Take that back," he demanded, wrapping a hand around his hard cock.

You shook your head, frustrated to no end as Dean started to pump the cock you should have been riding already.

As if reading your mind, and somehow agreeing, he roughly grabbed your thighs and forced your legs open enough to slot himself between them. He slapped his cock against your clit, smirking when you jolted. He did it a couple more times, only stopping when he dragged his tip along your slit to wet it.

Dean coated his cock all over with your wetness, using his fingers to gather some more for good measure. The emptiness inside you grew. All of this was not only unnecessary but only dragged your so much-needed pleasure.

"Gonna fuck some manners into you, honey," he announced in glee as he pushed inside you.

"Uh-huh."

He hovered over you to kiss you, sticking his tongue into your mouth while holding your legs open. You panted as he thrust into you with little care of pace or rhythm, only worried about fucking you stupid.

"I can feel how badly you want to come already," he boasted, relentlessly pumping his cock into you like he would die if he didn't reach as deep as humanly possible. "Hold on," he insisted, almost desperate. "You gotta wait until I tell you to."

Just as you were going to hum in acknowledgment, he pulled out and forced a desperate cry out of you. Dean grabbed your hips, guiding you onto your knees and hands.

Pressing his chest to your back, he pushed back in. His hands moved to your belly, searching for the hem of your top; as he found it, he rode it upward. Some of his fingers were ice cold, leaving goosebumps all over your skin as his hands reached your breasts.

He pulled on your breasts as he pistoned into you, quickly and harshly, pushing your face into the couch. You gasped for air, whining as you ground back against him, chasing permission to come.

Dean wouldn't relent that easily. He dropped your breasts, wrapping an arm tightly around you whilst resting his other hand on your thigh. Slapping your clit, he started to pant in your ear. "You're so fucking close," he told you, as if you didn't feel like you were on fire.

His fingers drew circles on your clit, applying as much pressure as your desperate humps and his hurried thrusts allowed him to. "Come on," he encouraged you, "let go. Make a mess all over my cock."

His thrusts only slowed down long enough for you to ride your high, coming so close to using him to get off that you hoped you would remember to plant the idea of trying that out into his head. He picked up the pace again, taking advantage of your pulsing walls and your half-relaxed state.

"Inside?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yeah." You moaned at the overstimulation, hoping he would just come already so you wouldn't have to go through more of it right now. Maybe later.

Not only did he fill you with cum but he pushed it deeper with a couple of pumps, moaning through a string of curses. His embrace loosened around you, but Dean didn't let go.

With his chest against your back and ragged breath in your ear, Dean coaxed you into laying flat on your stomach. "You okay, baby?"

You hummed. "Yeah, all good."

He kissed your shoulder and slowly withdrew from you, slipping out. "Gonna clean you up," he told you before you could ask if something was wrong.

Cleaning you up with a damp rag, Dean caressed your skin soothingly. "Can you sit up and drink some water?"

You gave it a try, groaning as you turned around on the couch. Sitting up was especially daunting as your sore ass made contact with the cushioned seat.

"I..."

You looked up at him, glass in both hands.

"I'll run you a bath, then we'll call your parents and invite them over for dinner this weekend."

"Really?"

"Really."

By the end of the night, you called your mom from your warm bed, head on Dean’s chest while his fingers traced your back.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester smut

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