#no girl was going to walk up to him to dance that night at the snowball

[xshadowdelta]

FORMER MANAGER

PART 5: PURITY.

Mashiro x Male Reader (4K length)

You observed your face in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, your messy hair, the marks of the sheets on your cheeks and some visible dark circles bordering your eyes, it definitely had not been your best night. You had barely slept, tossing and turning in bed all night while your head was spinning around the scene with Jang Wonyoung.

The image of her crying wouldn't disappear from your mind no matter how hard you tried, but how did this happen in the first place? The last memory you had of her was when you said goodbye years ago before returning home, back then she also cried, but this time it was totally different, her look of disappointment on you disturbed you even more than her tears.

You catched some water from the sink, throwing it over your face, trying to clear yourself up and wake up a little, because you had to continue with your life and your work, you would find a free time lapse to be able to fix this problem.

You showered, fixed your hair, and hid the traces of a terrible night on your face as well as you could before getting dressed and leaving your apartment heading to the company.

You arrived at the building where as soon as you entered, your boss was waiting for you, folder in hand, and while you both walked he explained the itinerary of the day and the schedule for the upcoming weeks. Kep1er’s members had returned from their last shows abroad, there had been a few changes at the management level, and a new comeback was already planned, so the work was going to be hard and intense.

Both of you stopped in front of one of the practice rooms, a light touch of your coworker knuckles on the door and you entered inside, a group of girls who were stretching stared at you.

“Good morning girls.” Your partner began to speak. “Before starting preparations for this new album I want to introduce you to your new full-time manager, starting on today he will take care of all of you and about everything you need.” He exclaimed, indicating for you to introduce yourself to them with a gesture of his hand.

You bowed them instantly. “Nice to meet you! I will be at your service from now on, I hope we get along well.” You said a little nervous, a feeling that disappeared when you saw the smiles and applause they offered you. “Nice to meet you, please treat us well!” They all said in unison bowing to you aswell.

"Good." Your boss interrupted. “The dance teacher will come right away to show you and start practicing the new choreographies, I hope the best from all of you. “Fighting!” He said with his fist, before handing you the information folder and leaving the room.

You watched him leave and when you looked back you jumped when you realized how the Kep1er girls had surrounded you, occupying any personal space you could have, their eyes analyzing you carefully.

"Hello!" One of them greeted with a huge smile on her face. “I'm the leader Yujin, nice to meet you, it's incredible, it's the first time I have such a young manager.” You smiled shyly, uncomfortable with the circle of people that had formed around you.

“Wow, can I call you oppa?” A girl with pink hair and rounded cheeks asked next to her, if you were not mistaken it was Kim Chaehyun, you nodded affirmatively at her question causing her to laugh.

You noticed that penetrating eyes were focused on you to the point that you realized that gaze was passing through you, you made eye contact with it, increasing your nervousness.

“Is something wrong, Xiaoting?” You asked softly making the mentioned girl blink a few times. “Do you know my name already?” She questioned surprised. “Our new manager has studied a lot!” Dayeon shouted, starting to laugh and causing the rest of the members to laugh.

“Look at his dark eyes, he sure hasn't been able to sleep all night!” Hikaru joked, releasing one of her particular laughs that resonated throughout the room, increasing the volume and joy of the rest of the members.

These girls were really loud and restless, they were going to give you a lot of headaches, yet a smile was drawn on your lips and for a while you forgot about the rest of your problems.

The dance teacher appeared and the morning passed with the girls memorizing and practicing the new choreographies, so you took the opportunity to go to your office to work on other aspects such as contacting the wardrobe team, making venue reservations where the filming would be done, hire the recording equipment.

The days went by and with the amount of work you had it was impossible to even think about Wonyoung. Your relationship with the members of Kep1er was improving and due to the characteristics of these girls, in just a week it seemed like you had been together since their debut, and that was something that relieved you and made everything much more enjoyable.

This day in question the girls would spend it in the recording studio, testing their vocals and recording the songs for the new album, so really your presence there was not very significant so your task for the day was to clean and organize everything in the house.

If you already hated doing housework, doing it in a home full of girls made you hate it excessively. A multitude of clothes scattered throughout the rooms, boxes and cardboard in every corner.

You were infinitely grateful to Bahiyyih for trying to keep the house in order, saving you some work, but the whirlwind that was Chaehyun Dayeon and Hikaru was simply unstoppable.

You finished off the apartment Yujin Bahiyyih Chaehyun and Xiaoting shared and headed upstairs to start cleaning the next one. You hadn't been there for long but there was a room that you had not yet accessed, it was a two-bed bedroom that did not belong to anyone in the group but that had serious signs of having been habited before, it was perfectly arranged and there were still clothes hanging in the closet.

You inspected said clothes, leaving them on one of the beds, you opened the drawers looking to know what, and this really had you confused.

“W-W-Who are you? What are you doing with my clothes?” A sudden voice surprised and scared you, almost making you fall on the bed when you turned to look at the door frame of the room, finding a small girl with brown hair and a rather cute appearance carrying a cardboard box in her hands, looking at you in a scared way.

“That's what I should ask, how did you get in here? The door has a password, and what's with your clothes?” You were trying to appear as calm as possible but you were really uneasy with that presence.

“Don't tell me…A SASAENG!” You both shouted at the same time, pointing your fingers at each other.  "WHAT? ME?" Now your fingers were pointing towards yourselves.

“It's over I'm going to call the police.” The girl said, dropping the box and taking her mobile phone out of her pants pocket.

“That's exactly what I'm going to do, look at this.” You said, taking out the company ID, surprising the girl.

"Huh?"

.

.

.

.

“I'm sorry again, I had no idea you were the new manager.” The girl said with her head down, looking at the ground, feeling guilty for the previous misunderstanding.

“The mistake was mine for not having recognized you before, Mashiro-shi.” Now you knew who this room belonged to.

Apparently, and after left the grou, both Mashiro and Yeseo had been terribly busy with their new group and their own activities that they had been coming and going to the house making small moves of their things. However some things of their property were still there.

“If you need help with your…”

“Oh no no, please, I'm sure you're very busy, I don't want to bother you.” She commented, making notable gestures with her hands. You smiled at how adorable that was.

“The rest of the members say that you and Yeseo will continue to be part of Kep1er forever…” You commented, bending down to pick up the cardboard box from the floor and put it on the bed, opening it. “So now I'm also your manager, okay Mashiro-chan?” You smiled warmly at her causing her cheeks to turn a deep pink color.

“O-O-Okay” She agreed shyly, approaching you and helping you pack more clothes from her closet.

Together you cleared out the closet and packed all the clothes, and you organized the rest of the room and cleaned it. You glanced at Mashiro from time to time, even with that strange first impression you had with her, you really thought she was a super adorable girl. Her small stature, her beautiful face and the dimples that were marked on her cheeks reaffirmed it.

“What do you think of the members?” She asked casually while doing her task, your gaze drifted towards the ceiling, sketching a slight smile after a few seconds of thought.

“Noisy.” You responded simply causing her to giggle, covering her mouth with one of her hands.

“I understand you perfectly.” She supported you.

“But they are really amazing.” You continued. “They spend the day laughing and making a fuss but they don't lower the effort they put into their practices one bit, sometimes I envy them. I would also like to enjoy my work like they do.” Out of the corner of my eye you could notice a small smile melancholy on her face, so you decided not to say anything else and continue with the cleaning.

You walked over to one of the nightstands next to one of the beds to open the drawers, see what they kept and see if there was anything else that needed to be packed.

“Don't open that!” Mashiro screamed hysterically, throwing herself on the bed trying to stop you but you had already opened the drawer. You looked at her confused, even more so when she threw her hands over her face trying to hide herself, while her ears turned red.

You looked down, looking at the vibrator that was inside the drawer, blushing too and quickly moving away, falling on your ass to the floor.

"I'm sorry."  You whispered embarrassed, unable to look up, noticing how your face was burning.

“Noooooo…how embarrassing.” Mashiro sobbed, rolling on the bed. You grabbed a lock of your hair, analyzing the situation, looking for the right words for a moment like this.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of Mashiro, it is something totally normal for someone your age and…Mashiro?” You were absorbed as you looked up to see directly at the girl who was still sobbing, covering her face with one hand, while the other was now rubbing her crotch over her pants. So those sounds weren't sobs, they were moans.

You saw how she relaxed her body and lie down on the bed. The hand that covered her face no longer did so, she was now looking at you clearly, intently, a look very different from what you had seen from her before.

“It has been such a hard, stressful and emotional weeks. Leaving one group to enter another, new members, comeback, and performances. Even now all the responsibility of being a leader falls on my shoulders.”

“Mashiro…” Your words were interrupted by a new moan.

“And I forgot my stress reliever during the move, I tried using my fingers but they didn't have the same effect…” You turned your gaze to the vibrator and took it in your hands, Mashiro's eyes did not take their eyes off the device. You turned it on, listening to the vibrations it produced, making Mashiro groan in despair.

“You said before that you were also my manager…” The Japanese girl began to say. “So, I need your help, manager oppa, please…” You swallowed after hearing that request of deep need in her tone of voice.

You stood up and approached the bed, sitting on the edge near Mashiro, who lowered the zipper of her sweatshirt a little, revealing a bit of the shirt she was wearing underneath and then, moving against the bed, she managed to lower her pants until her underwear was visible.

“You are very wet Mashiro-chan.” You commented looking at the huge stain that had appeared on her panties. “You really are so needy…”

She didn't respond but she brought her hand back to where the stain was now, caressing herself again with circular movements, closing her eyes enjoying her own touch.

When she stopped she opened her eyes to look deeply at you, eyes that were screaming for your help. You sighed and got even closer to her body, vibrator in hand, gently bringing it to her desired area, coming into contact causing Mashiro's back to arch due to excitement.

“Yes, please…” She continued asking needily.

You pushed aside the fabric of her panties, visualizing her wonderful pink pussy completely flooded that was crying out for pleasure.

The sex toy now caressed Mashiro's folds mercilessly, forcing her to moan loudly, her eyes closed again enjoying the waves of pleasure that ran through her body.

That scene was fucking erotic for you, so much so that a huge bulge peeked out from between your pants. With your free hand you managed to free that bulge from outside your clothes, however it was somewhat difficult to satisfy both of you at the same time.

A naughty idea crossed your mind. If you were busy offering pleasure to Mashiro she was free to give it to you, so you took her hand closest to you and placed it around your cock.

Upon feeling that she opened her eyes again, offering you a small smile when she knew your intentions, grabbing your penis tightly and beginning to move her hand up and down constantly.

“Oppa hentai…” She whispered, biting her lip, watching how she was masturbating you.

“It's your fault in the first place…” You responded, emitting the occasional small moan caused by her touch, and lowering the zipper of her sweatshirt completely with your free hand, allowing yourself to caressing her stomach and her hips.

You threw the vibrator to the side of the bed and began to caress her pussy with your own hand, separating her folds with your fingers and inserting a couple of them inside causing a squeal of surprise from her.

“Shit oppa…it feels so good…”

“A girl as adorable as you talking so dirty.” You said increasing the pace of your caresses on her pussy, feeling how your hand became wet with Mashiro's fluids.

“You love when I talk dirty, right oppa?” She asked continuing the caresses on your penis. “It hasn't stopped growing…”

You smiled, leaning over her body, placing a few kisses across her bare stomach. She released her grip on your cock to allow you to position yourself more comfortably on top of her, slipping your hands under her shirt touching everything within reach.

Mashiro slowly melted under your body, moaning louder and louder as your fingers caressed her tits. She was breathing heavily and her hair fell over her forehead giving it an even sexier touch, her entire face was flushed and hot.

Due to the constant movement of your bodies on each other there was a moment where your cock rubbed against Mashiro's pussy, tensing her body and placing her hands against your chest, pushing you away slightly.

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, realizing how hot this whole scene had become and how you had gotten carried away with it.

“I'm sorry if I…

“I have only used that vibrator… I have never had anything inside me beyond my fingers, I am completely a virgin.” She admitted, looking away embarrassed.

"It’s okay." You whispered softly, offering her a smile, caressing her right cheek with your hand. She took your hand and let herself be caressed by you.

“It's really strange and we just met...but I feel very comfortable with you, oppa. Although I don't think I'm ready to cross that line yet, I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize for anything.”  You leaned your head over her, kissing her lips, being instantly reciprocated by her, lightly biting her lower lip, drawing a moan from her and allowing your tongue to explore every corner of Mashiro's mouth.

“Oppa.” A thread of saliva separated your mouth from Mashiro's. “I need an orgasm.”

You smiled, recovering the vibrator lost in some corner of the bed, activating it again, this time with more power making the girl's body tremble.

“OH FUCK!” Squeals and moans came non-stop from the idol's mouth as you rubbed the toy again and again over her weak area.

You alternated the vibrator with the caresses that you provided with your hands. You lay down on the bed next to Mashiro without stopping masturbating her, she quickly took your cock again with one of her hands and now you were both pleasuring each other.

You inserted two of your fingers inside her completely tight pussy, stretching it slightly feeling her walls contract against your fingers. The girl's hips moved unconsciously as the moans did not stop and her grip on your cock tightened.

You then stroked her clit with your thumb, which was like touching the self-destruct button on Mashiro's body. You touched and pressed her clit as much as you could until her back arched again and a huge scream escaped her mouth.

Her body hit the mattress again, her chest rising and falling excitedly. It took her a few seconds to catch her breath and recover from that orgasm, she turned to look at you and you quickly wiped away some tears that were now flowing from her eyes with your hand.

“God…you're better than any toy, oppa.” Despite continuing to pant, her smile was wide, she laughed at herself for the situation she found herself in.

You laughed, also flattered but somewhat embarrassed by her comment. You tried to get up to get out of bed but Mashiro immediately stopped you and forced you to lie down, surprising you with her sudden reaction.

“Wait, you're not done yet.” She said and then you looked down at your penis.

“Please let me help you, oppa.” Mashiro demanded in distress, because she had been able to free herself thanks to your touch and you, on the other hand, were still hard.

How were you going to refuse that, you thought, lowering the clothes that covered your lower area to your ankles, leaving your member in full view. Mashiro was stunned to see it like that.

“It's even bigger…” She whispered, wrapping her hand around it again, beginning to cover it completely and therefore starting the massage.

You let out a moan and bit your lip. Under normal conditions it would take you long enough to cum to get a long treatment, but the hard work of these last few days had taken its toll on you too. You hadn't downloaded for days, even weeks, and none of the Iz*One girls had crossed your path during this time, so you and your friend were especially sensitive at the moment.

That Mashiro was inexperienced was obvious, not only because she had confessed to being a virgin, it was obvious that it was the first time she had masturbated someone.

She did it delicately but nervously, her hand trembled on your cock, so you decided to help her, placing one of your hands on hers, guiding her on top of you. This helped her to calm down and gain confidence, copying the rhythm that you were setting.

You moved your hand away once you saw her more prepared and in response to that she wrapped her other hand around your penis as well.

Now both of the girl's hands were working on your erect dick, covering the entire length between them, with slow and delicate movements that made you shudder.

Your moans began to get uncontrolled due to her touch, giving her more and more encouragement and causing the pace of masturbation to increase.

Her two hands worked now at high speed on your penis, with enveloping movements, noticing how it swelled and began to tremble.

“Shit...Mashiro-chan I'm about to...” You couldn't finish the warning when the first shot was propelled upwards, surprising the girl by seeing that white liquid escape from the tip of your penis.

After the first, the rest of the shots followed, progressively decreasing the intensity with each one until finally there was not a single drop left inside you.

Mashiro's hands raised the skin of your penis one last time, observing the brilliance that the tip of your penis now offered. Finally she let you go and you were able to sit up on the bed, seeing the mess that had formed on your abdomen, now covered in your own sperm.

You diverted your gaze towards Mashiro whose eyes did not stop observing that increasingly sticky area.

You moved your hand towards it, taking some of the sperm with your fingers and looked back at the girl, who now looked back at you.

"Do you want to try it?" You asked, smiling sideways, sneaking into her thoughts. She did not utter a word due to shyness and embarrassment but nodded affirmatively.

You brought your fingers closer to her face and she closed her eyes, opening her mouth, allowing you to insert them inside, licking and tasting your seed. Her tongue moved between your fingers, wetting them but absorbing all the liquid they were impregnated with.

She opened her mouth again for you to remove your fingers and you looked at each other.

"It is...you are...you taste delicious..." She admitted self-consciously but happy and satisfied. “C-C-Can I take some more?”

A few seconds later you had Mashiro leaning over you licking all the remains of sperm that were on your abdomen and thighs. That was making you hard again but you knew you had a line that you must not to cross.

The idol's tongue cleaned you completely, savoring every last bit of liquid she could get, repeating to herself how delicious it tasted. Once she was over with you, you left the room for a moment to go to the bathroom, cleaning yourself and put your clothes back on properly, when you returned Mashiro was also dressed.

You inserted the vibrator into the cardboard box, camouflaged between several layers of clothing, and took it into your arms, despite the girl's insistence that she could carry the box.

You went down together to the street, parked there was one of Mashiro's new group's cars waiting to pick her up.

"Thanks for everything, manager oppa." Mashiro smiled sweetly at you.

"Keep this between us, okay?" She nodded briskly heading to the car, turning around before opening the door.

"I'll think about you the next time." Those words caught you off guard, making you blush.

You watched as the car disappeared into the distance of the street, blending into the traffic. You sighed and walked back up the stairs to the apartment, there was still a lot to clean.

Just when you were about to grab the broom again the phone in your pocket started ringing, you picked up after reading the name of the caller and brought it to your ear.

“Finally, I only had to call you 7 times to get a callback.” You heard a sleepy yawn from the other side.

“I've been non-stop for months, many performances, shootings, ceremony awards, and exhausting trips, you know. I deserved a good restful sleep…of 14 hours.”

“Of course, we must keep the star Ahn Yujin in good condition.” Your laughter dissipated as you took a more serious tone. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I know. See you in like 1 hour? I will send you the location.”

“Sure, see you.”

You hung up the call and heaved a long sigh, rushing to get all the work done. You had a date in an hour.

[lqvesoph]

My Sweetheart || LN4

lando norris x dcc!reader

summary: you are part of the dcc’s, who perform at the formula 1 austin grand prix, what a coincidence that your secret boyfriend is a racing driver competing in said event

a/n: I promised y’all this like two weeks ago i’m sorry it took so long🫠

masterlist

“Girls, you ready?”, your group leader called, receiving thumbs up from all of you.

You put on your nicest smile and followed the other girls out on track, immediately spotting Lando next to the other drivers. He sent you a cheeky wink when your eyes met as you were dancing towards your designated spot to start ‘Thunderstruck’.

Here was the thing, Lando had never watched you perform. Of course in the comfort of your living room, but that was something different, never when you were fully dressed in your uniform with your hair and make up done and next to the other girls.

And you truly hadn’t thought that I’d be so difficult to focus on your steps and not the way his eyes followed your every move, sometimes dipping down to your chest.

Once you were done with the kickline, a roaring applause sounded off the track.

You exchanged proud smiles with the other girls, catching your breath while waving with your poms.

Your eyes darted back to Lando, who had his arms crossed in front of his chest, making his biceps pop, and boyish smirk on his lips.

You thought back to the conversation Lando and you had last night.

“How about after the parade, I’ll just kiss you?”, Lando proposed, laying down behind you. You looked back at him to see a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Paul would probably remove your arms from your body faster than you can accelerate”, you giggled, thinking about your bodyguard who took all of the girls‘ safety extremely serious.

"Also true”, Lando chuckled, secretly loving how safe you were when you were with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders.

He pressed you closer to muffle his nose into your hair.

Still, your heart raced at the thought. Since meeting in Miami, coincidentally where he took his first race win, it had been an exciting, hidden part of your life. Both of our agreeing to keep it under wraps for a few months.

Now, almost five months later, you still haven’t told a lot of people. Only your families and Carlos knew, though you were almost sure Carlos was considered part of Lando‘s family as well.

You walked past the drivers and the second your eyes landed on Lando, a rush of adrenaline caused you to make an impulsive decision. “I’ll be back in a second”, you told Sophy before running over to your boyfriend, who was nudged by Carlos next to him. Lando’s head turned just when you came to a halt in front of him. “Good luck today!”, you spoke breathlessly and quickly stood on your tiptoes to lean forward to press a quick but lingering kiss to his lips.

Thanks to his ridiculously fast reflexes, Lando put one hand around your waist to pull you closer just when you wanted to pull back. The crowd erupted again, but for a different reason this time.

He smiled into the kiss before allowing you to retreat.

“Gee, thanks I feel honored”, he joked, making you roll your eyes. He chuckled, eyes sparkling. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You shrugged, biting back a smirk as you noticed the Dallas girls gaping from the sidelines. Your best friend jaw had practically hit the floor.

"Go, your girls are waiting on you”, he said and tapped your butt cheek twice, causing Paul to clear his throat next to the two of you.

Lando glanced over at your team’s bodyguard before pulling his hands back.

You tapped Paul’s arm to signal him, that it was okay and nodded over to the exit where the rest of the girls were standing.

“Next time give me a little warning, that would he nice”, Paul muttered as you walked back. “Sorry, that was pretty impulsive right there”, you chuckled.

“Okay, girl WHAT???”, Sophy called when you were in reach, grabbing your arm and shaking you.

With a smile, you glanced over your shoulder to where Lando was now the subject to subtle teasing from Carlos and shock from Oscar next to him. “We’ve been seeing each other. Met back in Miami, actually, it was right before I moved to Dallas to try out for DCC. My dad was invited to the race by Mclaren because of a sponsorship deal and took me with him“, you explain as you walked back to the paddock guest section.

"So he just asked for your number??“, Kleine butted in, buzzed with excitement. "Uhm, no actually. We met obviously at the race and it was his first ever win, so he went out to celebrate and uh-", you stopped for a second, thinking back to that rather wild night in Miami.

"Oh no girl!", Sophy could practically read your thoughts. You shoved your head into your poms as the other girls around you started realizing what your indication meant.

"So, anyway, I woke up with his phone number in my phone the next day"

and him naked next to you, but you left that part out.

"We‘ve been seeing each other since. Well, we mostly facetimed at the beginning, I told him I‘m moving to Dallas to try out for DCC. He immediately was incredibly supportive and uhm… actually spent his summer break in Dallas with me, so like basically all of August", you giggled.

"Wait!", Charly called, getting your attention. "Was he the guy in your car? Who picked you up from training?" You nodded with a slight smile. "Yeah, so you technically have met him before", you joked, causing the girls to laugh.

It sort of felt surreal to have that out in the open right now, and you were sure if you were to open any of your socials right now, they would explode with messages and new followers.

Back in the paddock, you changed into your navy blue training suits and watched the race with an intense focus, hands clasped as Lando carved his way through each lap.

He held steady, kept his line, and defended like he was born to win today. Watching him maneuver the car with the precision and confidence you’d seen a thousand times over on your home TV (or your phone, depending on where you were) was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once.

Finally, when he crossed the line in first, a flood of cheers echoed around you.

"Your man‘s great!", Kelli smiled next to you, causing a giggle to escape from your lips. "Thanks, Ma‘am!"

Lando had won. And this time, you were here to see it.

Beside you, Paul, the Cowboys’ assigned bodyguard, nudged you. “You’re clear to go to the podium,” he said, a faint smile under his otherwise serious expression.

With a breath of excitement, you nodded, feeling your pulse pick up as you followed Paul through the crowd, navigating your way to the podium. The fans cheered as you approached, and finally, you spotted Lando. He was celebrating with his team, arms thrown up in victory, a radiant smile on his face. When he saw you, he froze for a second before his face broke into a grin.

Ignoring the team and press around him, he ran over to you, grabbing you by your shoulders to pull you closer to him over the barrier.

He didn’t hesitate to press a kiss to your lips, wrapping you close despite the sea of cameras and fans catching every angle. "You did it, baby", you smiled, stroking over his sweaty cheek. "This one’s for you", he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, still breathless from the race.

You smiled, hands still tangled around his neck, feeling the world fade away for a moment. "Congratulations, champ!"

Another smile spread across Lando’s face and he pulled you back in for a gentle kiss.

📍Circuit of the Americas

tagged: dccheerleaders, f1, landonorris, oscarpiastri

liked by: landonorris, dccheerleaders, sophylulaufer and 1.628.592 others

yn_yln: Thank you, Austin🧡

comments:

landonorris: MY sweetheart💙

yn_yln: 🥰

sophylulaufer: SURPRISE I GUESS???

avamarielahey: Seriously girl, we NEED to talk about this!!

sophylulaufer: I second that🤚🏻

annakatesundvold: I third that🤚🏻

reece_christinee: So happy for you my girl!!🥰

dccheerleaders:

carlossainz55: So happy, I don’t have to pretend I don’t know anymore

yn_yln: I actually only did it for you, Carlito🫶🏻

carlossainz55: See I knew why I liked you more

landonorris: Heyyy!!!

user1: Them using the heart color of the other, IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

user2: Him spelling the ‘my’ in capital letters😭

user5: Whats so special about that??

user2: The dcc’s are called ‘America’s Sweethearts’, so he basically said she’s his

user3: The most unexpected crossover???

user4: Isn’t she totally way to young for him??

user6: That’s what I’ve been saying, like isn’t she 19?

user1: It’s their life so kindly stfu, and she’s 20

user7: How did that even happen????

load more comments…

[mywritersmind]

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4

↳ pt.4

summary : A week of not so secret flirting, drunken parties, and being surrounded by your best friends; it ends with a promise and a kiss.

og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.

listen up : suggestive comments!! kissing! language!! all done <33 thanks for all the love recently i truly love you all. final part pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

word count : 3324 + tiny bit of smau

⋆｡‧˚⋆

My feet are freezing but my torso is warm. My head hurts and when I move to sit up in bed, I'm yanked back down by a weight over my waist.

What? I eye the arm over me and trail it all the way to the man next to me. No.

I practically throw his arm off me but he doesn’t wake up, just stirs a bit and tugs on the blanket. It moves down his bare chest to reveal his tanned abs.

I’m in my pajamas. My hair is knotted. My head is pounding. I hit Lando with a pillow.

“Norris!”

He groans, turning away from me and mumbling. Once he realizes the person yelling at him is in his bed, he blinks at me. “What could be so important that you’re waking me up by pillow?” His morning voice is deep and scratchy.

“What the fuck am I doing here!?” I remember going out. I don’t remember making my way into Lando’s bed!

He rolls his eyes then closes them. I hit him again, “Hey!”

“Lando!” I yell again, then my hand goes to my mouth and my eyes widen, “We didn’t…”

He looks genuinely offended, “Give me some credit, Pretty. You’d know.” His arms go to the back of his head, a slight smirk on his face.

I screw my face up, “You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.” I hit him again, “Okay! Okay! You came here to get your purse but you were shit drunk and wouldn’t leave.”

Shit. “Oh.” I do not recall this at all. I cross my arms. “You couldn’t have slept on the couch?”

“You crashed my bed!” I remember him calling me beautiful.

I groan and stand up, pulling my hair up and finally spotting my purse. The floor is freezing and I can feel Lando’s eyes on me as I cross his room.

“You really don’t remember anything from last night?” I turn back so see him leant over the bed, the comforter dangerously low on his waist.

I turn back and pretend to look in my bag, “I don’t remember anything after my third shot and you dancing with that girl.” I know it’s the wrong thing to say right as it leaves my mouth.

“Oh… So you got drunk because you were jealous.” I don’t need to turn around to know he’s smirking.

“Goodbye Lando.” I make my way to the door.

“You’re not denying it!” He yells after me.

I shake my head and grab the door handle, “Truce, Norris. Don’t forget it!”

⋆༺

My friends and I meet for breakfast, gossiping about the locals and everything that happened last night. “You didn’t answer when I knocked this morning.” Rebecca looks at me while stirring her coffee.

“Hot night?” Alex teases as I make eye contact with Lily who’s smirking.

“I must have just been asleep…” My tone is less than convincing and me being late to breakfast didn’t help either. “You can’t freak out.”

I tell them about waking up next to Lando, their jaws dropped and their hands paused on utensils. Lily is the least shocked but definitely the most disappointed when I share that I didn’t have sex with him.

“Ok i’m officially freaking out!” Kika drops her fork, shaking her head as I prepare for the million questions they have for me.

⋆༺

LANDO

“Last day!” Pierre claps his hands together as we walk down the streets of turkey. The girls’ absence is very noticeable because my friends are fully attentive this morning.

“I’m sad.” Carlos sighs, “I don’t want to go back to real life.”

“I’m excited to go back!” Alex shrugs, looking around the white buildings, “I miss my cat.”

“I don’t know.” I say, “I've enjoyed this trip a lot. But I do need a break from you muppets.”

Charles hits my arm, “You only enjoyed it so much because you finally stopped toying around with Y/n.”

“Truth!” Pierre laughs, “I think you two are a great addition to the group. I mean you’re already in it but now everyone has a couple.

I eye him. “We’re not a couple. She barely likes me as it is.”

Carlos shakes his head, “Mate… She definitely likes you more than ‘barely’. Y/n may be strong willed but I've never seen her blush so much.”

I roll my eyes and pretend like that doesn’t make me like her more. “We’re friends. I think.”

“You think?” Charles raises a brow.

“I guess.” I say.

“Lando!” Carlos practically screams and slaps his hands down on my shoulders, “You need to ask her out.”

“I’m not asking her out! She’s scary as fuck.”

“Pussy.” Pierre and Alex cough at the same time as I side eye them.

“You’re just scared she’s gonna reject you.” Carlos says in my ear as I elbow him in the stomach, “Ow!”

“Fuck off and let’s go.”

⋆༺

YOU

I know he’s staring at me. I know he’s not trying to cover it up. I know he wants me to look back.

And I know I look good as hell.

“Norris!” Carlos calls from the water, “Come on!”

Lando doesn’t respond so I assume he shook his head because I don’t hear him getting up. I open my eyes and tilt my sunglasses down just as a smile breaks out on Lando’s face.

I suddenly understand the extent of why women fall at his feet. He’s got glasses on but his smile makes me want him to break my heart.

“Wanna go swim?”

I’m laying on my stomach so I rest my head against my warm arm and respond, “Go swim with Carlos.”

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to swim with Carlos.”

“Too bad. So sad.” I close my eyes again as I hear him mumble something under his breath.

“Wanna talk about your little jealously streak then?”

I sit up and face the water, “You’re one to talk.” He gives me a look to which I pull my sunglasses back on my head to fully look at him, “You gave that waiter a death glare!”

“He was being weird.”

I shake my head and laugh, “He was asking if I wanted parmesan!”

Lando does not look amused, playing around with his camera, “Parmesan is just where it starts…”

“So what? It’s cheese then asking to fuck me?”

He crosses his arms on the tanning chair, “Exactly.”

I breathe out, looking out at our friends in the water and the clear skies. “You shouldn’t care about that, Lando.”

“I can’t help it.” He shuffles around, snapping a few pictures as he nonchalantly says, “You looked good in my bed.”

I turn to him again, trying to actually see if he’s being serious but his face doesn’t crack into a smile. I’m speechless. And it’s embarrassing. “I- No.” I place my feet onto the sand and quickly stand, pulling off my sarong as I walk down the beach.

He follows me, of course he does.

“Don’t hide, Pretty. You blushing because of me is a lovely sight.” His fucking smile, god!

I’m frustrated that I can’t act cool around him all of the sudden, “Why don’t you look at the very beautiful ocean right in front of us!?”

He doesn’t even glance at the view, “I prefer you.”

My lips pull together in a thin line, “I can’t stand you.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion…” he steps forward and whispers, “that you can.”

I swallow and accidentally make eye contact with Lily who is smirking at us. I know they can’t hear what he’s saying but it still makes me nervous. “I’m sorry for last night.” It’s all I can think to say.

“I think we already established that it was no problem.” Right because he liked me in his bed! Kill me now. “Don't worry. We’ll have a redo soon enough.”

He starts walking away from me as I gasp, “A redo!? Lando what do you mean!?”

He starts walking backward, slowly. “One on both our terms? One with two sober attractive people?” He raises a brow.

I cross my arms but honestly want to laugh. I walk closer, “Keep dreaming, Norris.”

“It’s called manifesting, actually!” Is all he says before picking me up and slinging me over his shoulder. It takes me so off guard that I can’t help my scream.

“Lando!”

I can hear the smirk in his voice, his hands gripping my legs, “Scream my name, Pretty.”

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m looking at her again.

A little less admiring this time because i’m holding back a laugh as she tries to take Pierre down in a game of chicken.

She’s on Carlos’ shoulders while Charles has Pierre sat on his. Everyone is laughing around us as they watch the four.

I don’t even realize the man next to me until he clears her throat, “Hey man.” He’s american.

“Hi.” I think he’s going to ask for picture or something but then he looks up at Y/n and I get a sick sort of feeling that this is my karma for teasing her.

He looks back at me and gives me a cheesy grin, “I’m Nate.”

I nod slowly, “Hi Nate.”

“Mine telling me your friend's name?” Ok rude. He didn’t even ask for mine. I hate him.

“Carlos?” I blink, pointing to the man.

Nate laughs a bit awkwardly, “Nah man… The hot girl on his shoulders.”

“Oh.” I eye him, my disdain obvious, “That’s Y/n.”

“Y/n, huh? She single?” I give him a look to which he looks frightened at, His hand goes to my shoulder and I fight the urge to step back, “Shit! She’s not your girl, is she?”

“Um…” Everything in me wants to say yes. “No. No she’s not.”

He hums, “Right… I know that look. I’ll back off, I get it.” He’s grinning like he knows all my secrets, “Sorry to bother you.” I think he’s going to leave but he stops, “Man also- in my experience, it’s not a good sign, guys asking you about her.”

He leaves.

What the fuck? I finally get the girl to tolerate me and now everyone thinks I'm supposed to fall at her feet and beg her?

Yeah I'll do it.

⋆༺

YOU

The day has flown by, with the sun burning us one last time and our lunch at the best local place where the chef adores us. I’m sad to go. Even If we still have this last night.

Dinner is slow and quiet, we’re all pretty tired but comment on little things around us.

I’m in a long dark blue dress, my favorite for our last night. Lando’s next to me and by the end of our dinner, he rests his head on my shoulder. I say nothing because I like his closeness.

Kika clears her throat, “This was an amazing trip and I'm very glad I got to enjoy it with you lot. I’m very very thankful for everyone here, and how our little group operates.”

Pierre rubs her back, “I’m thankful for hotel beds. And mojitos and sunscreen.” I laugh as Alex starts.

“I’m grateful for fish and sunglasses.”

Lily shakes her head, “I’m thankful for my lovely friends and for all the amazing food we ate! Plus me beating Lando in golf.”

Lando groans next to me, “I’ll get you one day, Lil.”

I smile, “I’m grateful for the ocean! And boat rides and night swims.”

“I’m grateful for spas and books!” Alexandra joins in.

Charles smiles at her lovingly, “I’m thankful for friends and cooking classes.” God that seems like forever ago.

“I’m thankful for golf as well!” Carlos grins, “And wine.”

Rebecca laughs and squeezes his hand, “I’m grateful for morning yoga and sunsets.”

Lando doesn’t sit up when it’s his turn, just stays resting on my shoulder, “I’m thankful for my camera and all the pretty views I've captured.” His foot nudges mine.

I blink, looking down at him as he just stares forward. Kika grins and holds up her glass, “To us!” I join as we all hold up our respective drinks.

“To us!” We repeat and cheers, Lando’s head leaving my shoulder as he holds up his water.

“You know…” Pierre looks around at us, “I’m not very tired.”

Carlos grins and taps his finger against the table, “It’s our last night…”

Lily laughs and stands, “Beach bar!”

⋆༺

The thought of drinking makes me feel sick so I stick to water. Lando is nursing a drink but it’s the same one I've seen him with all night.

I catch his eye while he’s talking to the bartender, he smiles softly and makes his way over to me immediately.

“Hi.” Hi? I don’t think Lando’s ever said Hi to me.

“Hello…?”

He leans against the bar as the music gets louder, “Fun night?”

I nod, sipping my water as someone bumps into us. He drunkenly apologizes before Lando looks at me again, “Want to go for a walk?”

I find walking down the beach at night with Lando far too often… Not that i’m complaining.

His drink is gone and his shoes are in his hand as mine are in mine, “Accomplish everything you wanted to?”

“Accomplish?” I laugh, “Do you go to every vacation with a to-do list?”

He shrugs shyly, “Maybe a mental one. Like I knew I needed to jet ski. I didn’t know it would end up with an attempted drowning…”

I scoff and hit his arm, “I wish your dramatic ass did drown.”

He just grins, “You’re remarkably bad at lying.”

I shake my head, looking back at him, “It’s something about you… You call me out on everything.”

“Because it’s so easy to catch. Even if you’re joking… you bite your lip a bit. No matter the lie.”

I frown, “You notice things like that?”

He looks past me at the water, then back to me. His face is shaded but the moonlight helps see his features, “I notice a lot of things about you.”

“If you told me that a week ago… I would have laughed in your face.”

“It didn’t just start this week. You just avoided me at every chance you got before this trip, but you’re hard to miss.”

I’m walking backwards now, looking at his loose button down and his hand in his pocket, “Are you saying you watched me, Norris?”

“I don’t think you understand that you’re very interesting to watch.” I go to speak but he cuts me off, “And don’t you dare call me creep. I know you do it too.”

I smile, “I’m grateful for you, Lando.”

His brows raise, “Am I being pranked…?” He comes to a stop as I push his shoulder back.

“I am. You bug the good out of me.”

He sets down his shoes, the music and lights from the beach bar far away but still seen and heard softly. “I’m glad you think so.”

It surprises me when his hand goes to my waist, “What are you doing?” I say quickly.

“Humor me.” Is all he says as his other hand meets my waist for the second time. I move my arms to his shoulders, my hand behind his head.

“Do you dance with all your friends by moonlight?” We sway a bit together.

He smiles again, his eyes so bright even in the dark, “I can tell you in confidence that this is a Y/n special. But you hurt me a bit.”

I raise a brow, “What?”

“Friendzoned while thinking about kissing you isn’t a fun thing.” My heart rate starts up.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Go out with me. When we get back.” I watch him talk so close to me, “No hostess forcing us together or shitty small talk. Come on, Pretty. For real.” He’s so beautiful and so nice and so funny.

“We don’t live close. Lando, you travel-”

“Fuck that. I’m asking you on a date in Monaco because I like you, a lot. If nothing else was in the way, what would you say?” He seems almost nervous and it makes me smile because he never shows this side of him.

“I would say yes.” I can’t help it. “But those things are very real and…”

“And?” He raises a brow, a smile replacing his nervous face.

I can’t help but smile, “And I like you. Maybe too much…” this makes his grin widen. “But still!”

“I can fly. I don’t know if you know this…” he leans in closer to whisper in my ear, “But I have some extra money.”

I pretend to push away but he holds me tight, “One date.”

He nods, repeating my words, “One date.”

“Our friends will freak out.”

“They’ll love it.”

“I know they will.” I shake my head, “I swear this was just a ploy to get us together.”

He laughs, “It worked, didn’t it?”

I laugh with him because he’s correct. I started this week with a bad attitude and a need for sun. I’m leaving it with a pretty boy and tanned skin.

“You still don’t know a lot about me.” We sway.

Lando shrugs, our faces extra close now, “I know you can talk for hours. I’ll listen.”

And I know he’s not lying.

“I’m annoying a lot of the time.”

He nods far too theatrically, “Trust me, I know!” I step on his foot but he just uses it as a way to bring me closer. I can hear his breathing and when I meet his eyes again, they’re soft and kind, “One more thing.”

“Go for it, Norris.” I’m whispering but I don’t know why.

There’s no one around, just the faint sound of music and waves crashing. “Can I kiss you?” It’s something so simple that I want to cry.

I smile, “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Norris.” He gives me a look, “Yes, Lando. You can kiss me anytime.”

And so he does.

⋆༺

LANDO

She smells like coconuts and tastes like mint. Her lips are soft against mine.

Our first kiss was on this beach, but it was different. It was hungry and intrigued. I was drunk and she was ethereal.

Now, she’s still beautiful but I'm not drunk. She’s soft. Does that make sense? It makes sense to me. She’s soft against me, his hands brush my neck and cheek, I can feel her smile against me.

Her kiss is something writers dream about and something I’ve imagined in a million different scenarios.

The start of this trip, my main goal was to tease and bug her until she broke. My goal now has been fulfilled with her promise of a real date and her kissing me like I actually mean something to her.

I like that I mean something to her.

She pulls back, her hands on my neck and in my hair, “You’re really beautiful too, you know.” Her lipgloss is smudged and her dress is getting wrinkled under my touch.

I take her in, every inch of her. I want to burn this moment in my brain forever. I haven’t stopped smiling for hours and it’s all because of her. “You’re amazing.”

She laughs, “You don’t have to one up my compliment.” I really didn’t mean to even try.

“I’m serious.” Her face tells me she understands suddenly, “Thank you, Y/n. You really are my favorite surprise this trip.”

She smiles, her hand on my chest, “I never believed our friends. They used to say how great we’d be together.”

“They’re geniuses and I owe them my life.” I shrug as she laughs my favorite laugh in the world: the one where I make her head drop and her teeth show.

“I’m sorry I ever was mean to you.”

“That’s alright…” I push back a strand of her hair, “Everyone needs a bit of foreplay.”

LANDONORRIS

landonorris DUMP FROM MARMARIS!! I miss it and I hate the rain.

username262 : TAN LANDO IS BACK

↳ username32 : he’s literally always tan i’m jealous

yourusername : 😊☀️

↳ landonorris :😋🫵

↳ username123 : what…?

username01 : who is the girl lando??

↳ username44 : his friend!! him and some drivers + girlfriends were on the trip

↳ username56 : interesting that they were the only single ones there…

pierregasly : let’s go back

charlesleclerc : alexandra is already planning another one (this time as a true couples trip)

↳ landonorris : WOAHHH SHHH

landofan4 : she’s sooo pretty istg how do these men pull these women!?

↳ username628 : they’re not even confirmed??

↳ username25 : trust me they will be in a month.

carlossainz : maybe you won’t suck at golf next time

↳ lilymunihe : not likely.

kikagomez : treat her poorly and i’ll punch you

↳ yourusername : punch him!

↳ landonorris : i haven’t even done anything?? and i wont!!!

maxfewtrell : thanks for the invite

alexalbon : I love the part of this dump where the only solo pics are of you and Y/n……..🤨🤨🤨🤨

↳ yourusername : funny alex my favorite part is the same thing😁😁😁

[bunnithechubs]

Episode 11- The Solo Dates

Date one started with Jasper and boy his eyes couldn't keep off Penny's knockers. They drank some local beer (hipsters) and Penny got her dream duet. Jasper ate that shit up while poor Penny sounded like a cat screaming. After that the did a little slow dancing and immediately argued after. That spun out of control by Jasper flirting with the same chick from the winery (we have a stalker). Penny was a few beers too deep and decided to whoop some ass. After that they had a make out session but Penny is unsure of Jasper quickness to look at other women when they fight (queue the insecurity from Cain). Now where date 1 was toxic date 2 was all MUSH. Darius missed his little brat and when they saw each other he immediately just wanted to snuggle her up!! (he might of paid off someone on production to tell him what happened on date one hehehe). Darius kept his hands on his girl letting her know she wasn't going ANYWHERE with out him. ;-; During their little grind session Darius suggested they gtfo of the bar and go for a walk which ended with them just talking about life. Darius was going to confess but then chickened out. He wanted it to happen when she wasn't upset about another guy. They of course ended the night with a little smush session ;) Next post is the elimination round :((( also please ignore her engagement ring (i forgot to take it off)

[10byten]

Soft Spot for u

- When you started college, one of the student associations assigned you a senior mentor. Back then, you never thought you'd still be friends with him as you enter your final year, while he’s already long graduated. Even less that he’d be the guy of your dreams—the one who makes your heart race. -

Words : 2.6K

You’ve never been much of a party girl. Well, not in the “nightlife scene” kind of way. But a night owl ? That’s totally you. Staying up late doing all the things the daytime doesn’t allow ? That’s your jam. Especially when you’re spending those nights with him.

Since your freshman year, Yuta has been your go-to for late-night hangs: studying, laughing, bickering, drinking, and dancing. You quickly adapted to his vibe - even though, unlike you, he thrives in the nightlife. He loves hopping from on-campus parties to the city’s best clubs. For Yuta, you’d adjust to anything. Normally, you’re not big on people or physical contact, but with him, it’s different.

The first time he asked you to join him at a party, you tagged along, thinking, Why not? At least I’ll have a story to tell. You didn’t like dancing in public—the stares, the unwanted touches—but his touch? That was different. Before long, you were showing up to every party he invited you to, becoming a campus party regular.

Little did they know, you hated parties. You only went for him. For those moments on the dancefloor when his hands rested protectively on your hips, silently warning other guys to back off. It drove you crazy that it felt more big brotherly than anything else. But when you danced together, something shifted. He wasn’t being protective—just… present.

You’ve always wanted to make a move, but the fear of losing him held you back. If he hadn’t made the first move, it probably meant your feelings weren’t mutual. Right? But honestly, just being by his side was better than being with anyone else.

Yuta changed you—not just in how you see relationships, but in how you see life. He was more than a mentor for academics; he pulled you out of your comfort zone and into a brighter, more open world.

Waiting for him to pick you up tonight, you’re lost in thought, touching up your makeup as Keshi’s Soft Spot plays in the background. Your phone buzzes.

Yuta: Be there in 2 mins, love.

You grin, his name lighting up your screen. Gosh, this man owns my heart.

When you hop on his bike, he whistles, eyes raking over your silver sequin dress.

“You planning to set the campus on fire tonight? I don’t remember telling you to outshine me, little miss.”

“No one’s hotter than you, Yuta.” You flirt back, the way you always do when he compliments you. It gives you butterflies every time.

He smirks, giving you a playful smack on the thigh. “Flattery’ll get you far, baby. Keep it up.”

At the party, Yuta, as usual, commands attention. Walking in with him feels like entering as a rockstar’s date—his magnetic aura turning every head. You join his friends—Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung—who’ve already lined up shots.

Johnny hands you a suspiciously colorful concoction. You sniff it. “Johnny, is this safe? Because I really don’t want to start the semester in the ER.”

Everyone laughs, and Taeyong teases, “Sometimes I forget you’re still in school. Those were the days…”

Shots clink, faces grimace, and the party kicks off. But soon, the buzz, the chaos, and the alcohol start working their magic on your senses. All you want is to dance—with him.

The noise, the games, the music, the chaos of people chatting and singing along, all the stuff happening around you, mixed with the alcohol buzzing in your veins, has your senses on high alert. And now, you only want one thing��to dance with him. You’ve shared him with the crowd long enough, and now it’s your turn. Just you and him, in your world, even if it’s just for a bit.

You leave Jungwoo and Kai behind, still going at that ridiculous card game where every rule somehow ends in "take a sip." It’s funny as hell, you can admit that, but nah—right now, you need him. It’s all you can think about.

You find him at the bar, mid-conversation. You head toward him, sitting by the counter, your mind racing with one single thought: you wanna throw your arms around his neck and kiss him like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. His legs are spread like he’s waiting just for you, a couple of messy strands of hair falling into his eyes, and his half-unbuttoned shirt teasing you with a glimpse of that stunning belly piercing and a peek at his tattoo.

You stop in front of him, hesitating for a second. He’s still chatting with Taeyong but doesn’t miss a beat, sliding an arm around your waist like, yeah, I know you’re here. That little gesture? making you go crazy, and without a second thought, grab his wrist and pull him to the dancefloor. Pressed against him, your bodies move in sync, his hands on your hips, his breath on your neck. Butterflies? More like fireworks. 

He’s totally getting with your vibe, moving with you like he’s reading your mind. When you turn around, you catch that huge smile lighting up his face—and wow, it’s the kind of smile that hits you right in the gut. He’s loving this moment, and it’s setting off a full-on butterfly storm in your stomach.

You kinda wish his smile wasn’t this attractive, this unfairly cute, this stupidly sexy. Because all you can think about is kissing him senseless. Like, right now.

You keep getting closer, grinding up against him more, and for some reason tonight, you’re feeling extra bold. You slide your fingers into his, guiding his hand to trace your curves in a way that’s definitely more suggestive than usual. Yuta doesn’t just go along with it—he’s into it. His response is all green lights, like his body is totally in tune with yours, wanting this as much as you do.

You feel his breath on your neck as you press your back against his chest, and yeah, it’s short. Is he... out of breath because of you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and without even thinking, you push your hips back against him, swaying like it’s second nature.

And then you feel it—him. Hard. For you.

That’s the last green light you need. You turn, locking eyes, fingers tangling in his hair as you kiss him, pouring years of longing into it. He kisses back—hungry, desperate.

Next thing you know, you’re in a dimly lit laundry room, pinned against the door as his lips crash back onto yours. His hands are everywhere, his voice dripping with desire.

He kisses you again, and this time it’s pure, raw desire. Like, where the hell has he been hiding all this? Not that it matters—you’re practically melting in his hands. Your skin’s on fire, and it feels like your blood is boiling. He’s gonna make you explode, like you’re some freaking nuclear reactor on the verge of meltdown.

The only way you can even begin to handle this insane craving is by biting his bottom lip, cutting the kiss short. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and there’s this spark in his eyes that makes your breath hitch.

“I didn’t know you had this bad girl side,” he says, smirking. “You’ve always been my sweet, innocent Y/n.”

“Not that innocent I guess, if only you knew about my dirty secret.” 

“Hmm tell me more baby” you smile hearing the petname he gave you, you love it soo much. 

“I touch myself so many times, soaking my panties, just thinking ‘bout you” 

He groan “You didn’t.” 

“I can’t even count how many times since I know you, you’re my favorite fantasm.” You say a lil bit shyly. 

He looks into your eyes, a proud smile on his face. “Then allow me to make the fantasy come true.”  He takes hold of your dress, so small that it doesn't take much effort for him to expose your already soaked thong. He slides two fingers over your pussy to caress you through the fabric.

“You’ve been holding out on me, huh?” he growls, fingers brushing against the lace of your underwear.

“Only for you, daddy,” you whisper, testing the nickname that’s been on your mind for way too long.

He freezes, then smirks. “Gosh, you’re gonna drive me insane.”

You've never been so willing in your life. You only dream of one thing: his tongue on you and IN you. He lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder to get better access. You feel his breath on your inner thigh and you moan at the sensation alone. 

“Oh god.” He look at you, from the bottom and smirk “You can call me Yuta.” And with those words he wraps your whole soaking pussy in his mouth. First he eats you through the fabric of your thong. Then, using his fingers, he shifts it to the side. He flicks his tongue up and down your folds and then concentrates on your clitoris, sucking gently. The stimulation sends you into heaven, you feel as if you've left this earth. And then he starts playing at your entrance with one of his fingers, looking at you “Want me to get inside baby girl?”

“Yes, please, yes !”

 “Your wish is my command.”

He takes hold of your clit again, nibbling lightly, then gently and deliciously slides a finger into your pussy, soon adding a second, which you welcome as a blessing. You try to be as quiet as possible, but your little cries and sobs excite Yuta even more. He picks up the pace and eats you up like he's starving, tasting you like you’re his last meal, you’re trembling. Soon you feel your orgasm coming on and you press down on Yuta's shoulder as if to let him know you're about to burst. He smiles, "Let it go baby, I'm here for you.” You feel the most powerful orgasm you've ever had in your life rushing through you. And this time you can't help yourself, you moan his name out loud and pray that no one else walks by at the same time. He stands up and sucks on each of his two fingers in front of you. Then he slides his tongue back into your mouth. 

“I think you can still feel yourself on my tongue, so much that I've sucked you in.” You wrap your arms around his neck, wanting more, but Yuta slows the pace. “Maybe we should slip away before we're noticed.

You slip out quietly, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone. On the way back, you’re still all sensitive from the way he completely wrecked you earlier. When Yuta pulls up in front of your dorm, he looks a little more hesitant than before. Still, you invite him to come up with you for a bit.

As you close the door to your apartment, you see him sitting on the couch, his hands covering his face like he’s deep in thought. But you don’t stop to overthink it—he’s already given you too much tonight for you to back down now. You climb onto his lap and kiss him, slow and intense. He kisses you back but suddenly pulls away.

“Wait,” he says, looking at you seriously. “I need to understand what’s happening here. Like, what are we doing right now?”

You stare at him, confused. “Do you want a diagram or something?”

“No, I mean, seriously. Isn’t this, like, a bad idea? I’m older than you, and you’re totally wasted. I am too, actually.”

“So what?”

“So yeah, I don’t think this is a good idea. You’ll probably regret it tomorrow. I don’t want to mess things up between us. You mean a lot to me and—”

You cut him off with a dramatic wave, making it clear he needs to stop talking immediately. “This is unreal. Stop seeing me as the clueless first-year kid who doesn’t know anything and needs a protector. Yuta, I don’t want a protector—I want you.”

He just stares at you, speechless.

“I got a soft spot for you, from the very beginning,” you continue, your voice shaking with the weight of the truth. “And honestly, I’ve been hoping every single day since we met that one day you’d wake up and feel the same. But you’ve always had this big brother vibe, and God, it’s been killing me, because I love your attention, I love how affectionate you are, and how you’re always there for me. But Yuta, I want so much more than that. I never said anything because I didn’t want to scare you off or ruin what we have. But seriously, I’ve been into you since day one. So please, stop being my bro—be my lover. Tonight, I felt like it was now or never. There was this moment, this chance, and hell, it’s my last year. I want to leave this university finally dating the guy I’ve been crushing on since freshman year. So if you’re not into it, just say it, but please stop looking at me like I’m some little kid and start seeing the woman I could be by your side.”

Yuta’s lips crash onto yours, giving you the single greatest kiss of your life.

“So you’ve been this into me for all this time, and you never said a word?” he teases, a grin spreading across his face.

“Yuta, please. I’m not exactly the most social person, but I’ve spent practically all my time with you. I hate parties, yet I’ve been at them every week since I met you. I HATE octopus, but I learned how to make Takoyaki like a pro. I think Naruto is the most boring anime ever, but I binged every damn season. Why do you think I did all that? For who?” you shoot back, exasperated.

“Uh… sorry?” he mutters sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize. Honestly, I love most of those things now because they remind me of you, or they’re just so you. I don’t force myself. If it means spending time with you, it’s always worth it in the end.”

He smiles at you, soft and affectionate.

“I’ll admit, I’ve thought about this a lot over the years too,” he says quietly. “But the age gap always felt like too much. And I had this mentor role, you know? I didn’t want to look like some creepy older guy. More than that, I didn’t want to lose you or ruin what we have.”

Your heart pounds at his words. So he doesn’t see you as some desperate little kid, and, more importantly, the guy of your dreams feels the same way about you.

“Can you say it out loud, though? Just once?” you tease him.

“I got a soft spot for you, Y/n.”

“No, no, no, you can do better than that.”

He chuckles, running his tongue along his cheek, clearly amused but knowing you’re not letting this go.

“I got a big crush on you.”

Your smile stretches ear to ear, and you crash your lips against his again. He responds instantly, sliding his tongue against yours, his hands moving to your hips as he pulls you closer. Then, without breaking the kiss, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to your room, laying you gently on the bed.He trails kisses along your jawline, down to your neck, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “If you play your cards right tonight, sweetheart, you just might get me to admit I maybe am in love with you by the end of it.”

[buckiverse]

☆--- summary: you went out to a club, and it took an unexpected turn when you spotted athlete!sylus, the man you can't seem to avoid. Is it a coincidence, or is he just everywhere you go?

☆--- a/n: athlete!sylus is taking over my brain...

You shouldn’t be going out tonight, but you couldn’t say no when Tara invited you. It was the first time in forever that someone had pulled you away from your constant grind of training, case studies, and class. The local club near campus was always buzzing on a Friday night, and here you were, questioning why you had agreed to come instead of staying in to catch up on everything you had to do.

"I know it’s not really your thing, but try to have fun with me!" Tara shouted over the music, her excitement infectious.

You managed a smile. "Girl, of course! Let’s have fun."

The club was exactly what you expected—dark, slightly dingy, with bright strobing lights that made the sticky floors and faint smell of spilled drinks a little more bearable. People crowded around more than they danced, but it was still early, barely midnight.

Tara led the way to the bar, effortlessly weaving through the group of people. She ordered something colorful and sweet, and you opted for a shot to shake off the weird, anxious feeling you couldn’t pinpoint.

Maybe it was the week catching up to you—training, school, and the guy who had somehow taken up space in your mind.

Sylus.

You hadn’t even spoken to him beyond that moment—a quick, half-snarky exchange in the law building after you accidentally collided with him. But you couldn’t help how your eyes searched for him every time you walked in as if you might spot him again.

So, when you saw him across the room, leaning against a table with his usual calm, unbothered air, you nearly choked.

He stood out even here. It wasn’t just his height, though that was hard to miss. It was how he seemed completely at ease as if this crowded, chaotic club was just another room he’d decided to occupy for a while. Two men, maybe twins, surrounded him if their matching outfits were anything to go by.

"Okay, I’m heading to the dance floor! Join me when you’re done!" Tara’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She winked before disappearing into the sea of people, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the view of Sylus.

You told yourself to look away, to mind your own business, but it was like some magnetic pull kept your gaze on him. What was he even doing here? He didn’t strike you as the guy who hit up clubs on the weekend.

Or maybe you didn’t know him at all.

The shot must’ve hit you harder than expected because, before you realized it, you were walking toward him. It wasn’t a decision you made—it was instinct or maybe a lapse in judgment.

By the time you reached him, Sylus had already noticed you. His sharp red eyes flicked to yours, a hint of recognition sparking in his expression.

"Hey," you said, your voice raised to be heard over the music, though your nerves threatened to betray you.

His smirk was instant, crooked, and a little too knowing. "Didn’t think I’d see you here," he said, his tone teasing.

You folded your arms, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why’s that?"

"Thought you’d be too busy watching where you’re going," he joked, the grin spreading just enough to make you want to wipe it off his face—and maybe laugh at the same time.

Your jaw dropped. "You’re seriously still on about that?"

He shrugged, leaning casually against the table. "It was a memorable first impression."

"Well, I don’t even know your name," you shot back, trying to regain some ground.

He tilted his head, clearly amused. "Sylus," he said smoothly. "But I was starting to think you’d never ask."

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let his charm get under your skin. "Y/N," you replied, crossing your arms. "So, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Sylus chuckled, his gaze flicking briefly to the two men beside him. "Apparently, letting my teammates drag me out for ‘team bonding.’ Not sure this is what they meant."

His words caught you off guard, and you laughed before you could stop yourself. Standing there with him, bantering like this, was easier than you thought it’d be.

"Well," you said, your confidence returning, "don’t let me stop you from bonding."

He didn’t look away, his smirk softening into something almost unreadable. "Maybe I won’t."

The crowd seemed to blur around you for a moment, and you swore his eyes lingered on you just a second too long.

[closets-closet]

Dancer + StripClub Owner! Konig

Tell me this man wouldn’t love a good strip club.. Now what if he owned one.

I told yall I would be back, this is very half done and I’ll be honest it sat in my drafts for weeks! I might progress this more, it honestly depends how much yall like it.

Anyways, it’s good to be back, I love you all so very much.

You are the highlight of the shitty rundown club you danced for. You moved to gracefully, hypnotically as you danced around the cool metal pole. The music thrumming through the stage, money covering the area where you dance. Pushing and pulling yourself on the pole in the center stage. You reach your hand out, brushing the faces and hands of a few of the men that are closest to the stage, causing them to throw more money. When your song finishes, you drop to your knees to slowly and sensually scoop up the money, 10’s and 20’s that you stuff in your lace bra. All eyes are trained on you, the way your top pushes your breasts together, or how your stockings and panties cup your plush thighs. You raise back to your feet blowing a quick kiss in the crowd thanking them.

Konig had arrived just as your set started, walking in past the security guards who quickly move out of the way. He seats himself among the crowd, blending in as best he can. Most of the people know of him, they recognize that tell-tale mask that obscures his facial features, making him unreadable. They fear him, so they give him room. He’s got his eyes trained on to your form as you dance across the stage, reaching out, fingers brushing against some of the patrons who eagerly throw their money at you. When your song finishes and you’ve finished collecting your money, the kiss you send out to the crowd sparks something with in him. You’ve piqued his interest, dangerously so.

You’re in the dressing room fixing up your makeup in the cracked mirror. Other girls rushing to make an appearance on stage, queuing their songs with the DJ, hushed whispers being shared between them about the boss being in. You delicately swipe the red lipstick across your lips pursing them as you examine yourself, paying the hushed rumors no mind.

He’s searching for you, stalking about the club, shaking off the other woman that try to cling to his arms. He whispers a few words to the DJ, inquiring about you. Wondering when you started, how often you preform, and what your name is. The DJ gives him a stern look before coughing up your information for a quiet 20$. A sinister grin spreads across his face, he’s got you.

You’re making rounds around the club, feeling your way around customers. Feeling how they stuff money in your top and under your stockings. You were such a sight to behold. He approaches you quietly, a large gloved hand resting on your shoulder.

“Aren’t you such a pretty thing” He leans and whispers against your ear sickly warm breath spreading across your face“Stuck working in a run down strip club leaving with a few hundred dollars a night?” A shiver quickly runs up your spine, his voice chills you to the bone. “I could treat you better” His voice hums, eyes blown wide as you take a step back every, hairs standing on end.

“I’m sorry?” You whisper, a hand coming to rest across the front of your chest, trying to hide the cleavage his eyes seem glued too. “If you keep talking to me this way I’ll go get the bouncer” You threatened voice meak, and quiet against the loud thrumming bass of the music

Konig lets out a sick laugh, his hand reaching out catching the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close. “Get the bouncer sweetheart, see what they do.” He hums quietly as he pushes you to walk next to him, leading you down a hall of private rooms “You clearly don’t know who I am” he continues breath hot against your neck. Konig suddenly pushes you into a room and you quickly try to find your barrings, never seeing this room before your confused and lost.

The man reaches up, pulling his mask above his lips, the jagged scar that runs across them making you gasp.

“I’m so sorry” You whisper immediately “I wasn’t aware it was you.” You drop to your knees, head hung low as you plead forgiveness of not knowing the boss.

He laughs again, the sound of his belt buckle clinking together, then the sound of fabrics hitting the floor. As his boots thump against the floor infront of you “It’s okay Doll” He whispers a large hand pulling your chin making your eyes meet “You can forgive me how I see fit, and then you’ll come home with me. You’ll never have to work here again, live as my personal pet.”

How do we feel after this, it’s been awhile since I sat down to write and today felt good. I’m also working on a Thanksgiving Johnny post, I feel like he deserves it.

[chirpsythismorning]

Mike being the OG protagonist + Will having some girl crushing on him almost every season, tells me everything I need to know...

[born-to-lose]

"No more giving my number out to random people who flirt with me at work" I say as if I'm not going into the next shift with a pen and tissues in my pocket

[star-ocean-peahen]

After watching Cinderella (the original animated movie, which was my favorite as a child), it strikes me how it solves many common problems people have with this fairy tale. Like:

Why did they try to identify the mystery girl using her shoe size? Because the bullheaded king's only clue to her identity was the shoe the Grand Duke picked up off the steps.

Why didn't the prince recognize her by her face? Because his father wouldn't involve him in the process at all, and wasn't the one going around trying to find her.

Why did the prince want to marry a lady he only met that night? Because his father was going to force him to marry someone, and he genuinely liked this woman.

Why did Cinderella want to marry a man she only met that night? Because marriage was her best and most secure way to freedom. Fucked up, but you can't say it's unrealistic for the setting of a fairy tale. She also genuinely liked him.

If they're using the slipper to find her, wouldn't it be more sensible to search for the person with the other slipper? Yes. The King is purposefully nonsensical and the Duke is purposefully terrified enough of him to carry out his orders to the letter. Furthermore, they end up doing that in the end anyway, because the Duke's glass slipper is shattered, and Cinderella brings out the one she has to prove her identity.

Why didn't the stepmother and stepsisters recognize Cinderella at the ball? Because they were dancing too far away, and then left the party to dance in private, which was possible because the King wanted very badly for his son to hit it off with someone and tried to arrange the best conditions for that to happen.

Why didn't Cinderella save herself? Because in real life, abuse victims should not have to shoulder that responsibility, and usually can't. In real life, you need and deserve an external support system. Asking for help, in this kind of situation, is very important. She is saved by others because she is loved. Because she is not alone. Because she has friends who love her, and want her to be happy and safe and free. Because in real life, people who want to help someone who is suffering are like the mice. We can't pull out miracle solutions, but we can provide companionship and if we're in the right place at the right time, we can help the person find a better life.

Why didn't the fairy godmother save Cinderella from her abusive household, or try to help her sooner? Because she's magic, and magic can't solve your problems. Quote: "Like all dreams, well, I'm afraid it can't last forever." This (and Cinderella's dream of going to the ball) is a metaphor for pleasurable things in bad circumstances. An ice cream won't get rid of your depression, but it will provide you with momentary happiness to bolster you, as well as the reminder that happiness in general is still possible for you. Cinderella doesn't want to go to the ball so she can get away from her stepmother and stepsisters, or so she can meet someone to marry and leave with. She wants to go to the ball to remind herself that she can still have things she wants. That her desires matter. This is important because the movie does a very good job of illustrating Lady Tremaine's subtle abuse tactics, all of which invisibly press the message that Cinderella doesn't matter. While going to the ball and fulfilling her dreams may not be a victory in the material sense, it is still a victory against Lady Tremaine's efforts.

Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser? This one walks a very fine line, but I think the movie still makes it make sense. Lady Tremaine never acknowledges her cruelty. She always frames her punishments of Cinderella as Cinderella's fault. Cinderella is interrupting, Cinderella is shirking her duties, Cinderella is playing vicious practical jokes. Cinderella is still a member of the family, of course she can go to the ball, provided she meet these impossible conditions. Lady Tremaine's tactics are designed to make Cinderella feel like she must always be in the wrong and her stepmother must always be in the right. If Cinderella calls her stepmother out on her cruelty, or attempts to fight back, Lady Tremaine can frame that as Cinderella being ungrateful, cruel, broken, evil, etc. If Cinderella responds to her stepmother's cruelty defiantly (in the way she's justified to), she's not taking control out of Lady Tremaine's hands. Disobedience can be spun back into her stepmother's control. She wants Cinderella to be angry and sad and show how much she's hurting. So since Cinderella is adapting to her situation, she chooses to be kind. Not only because she naturally wants to be and it's part of her personality, but because it is a form of defiance in its own way, and it allows her to keep a reminder of her agency and value. Her choice to be kind is her chance to keep her own narrative alive: she is not obeying because her stepmother wants her to and she has to do what her stepmother does, but because she wants to. It's a small distinction, but one that makes all the difference in terms of keeping her hope and identity. (Fuck, I wrote a whole paragraph about how this doesn't mean you can't be angry at people who hurt you or that you need to be kind to deserve help, and then deleted it by accident. Uh. Try again.) Expressing anger and pain is an important part of regaining autonomy and healing. Although it is commendable to be kind while you are suffering, it is NOT required for you to get help or be worthy of help. If Cinderella's recovery was explored beyond "happily ever after" she would need to let herself be angry and sad to heal. Cinderella is not only kind because it comes naturally to her, but because it's her defense against the abuse she's suffering. Everyone's story and experiences are different, and one does not invalidate the other.

Bonus round for answers that aren't part of the movie:

Why didn't Cinderella run away? Where would she go? Genuinely, in hundreds-of-years-ago France, where would she go if she snuck out of the window with a change of clothes? With her step-family, she's miserable and abused, but she's fed, clothed, and in no danger of dying or being taken advantage of by anyone other than her stepmother and stepsisters. Even if she escapes and manages to find financial security, her stepmother might be able to find her and get her back.

Why didn't Cinderella burn the house down with them inside it/slit their throats in the night/poison their food/etc.? Because that's a revenge fantasy, and this story is a fantasy about being saved. There's nothing wrong with making Cinderella into a revenge fantasy. That's perfectly fine, as long as you acknowledge that the other type of fantasy is also a valid interpretation. (I mean, the original fairy tale features the stepsisters getting their feet mutilated and all three of them getting their eyes pecked out, so go for it.)

Why isn't Cinderella more proactive in general? Because she's a child who has been abused for the back half of her life, who has had to be focused on survival because. you know. she's an abused kid.

How did she dance in glass slippers? Gotta agree with you there man, that's weird.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.

you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too. 

as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.

you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.

hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.

you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.

humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.

on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.

you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated. 

a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.

you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.

you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.

it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.

satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all. 

you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies. 

and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.

it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.

"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.

"no, i'm— wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone. 

satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"

"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."

satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"

you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"

well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so. 

"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them. 

not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.

"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."

"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—

you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.

satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"

you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."

satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"

it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.

just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.

"you should fuck me."

oh my god.

satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"

you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.

he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.

"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."

"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.

"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."

satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.

"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.

he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.

"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"

when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."

at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from. 

it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.

"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.

"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."

and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.

"g-gojo, i can't—"

"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"

"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"

satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.

you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.

as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.

"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."

you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?

"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."

he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"

"wha— why'd you stop?"

satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.

"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."

your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?

"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."

satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes. 

"hmph."

satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.

"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"

you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"

before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.

"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"

[mattsmunch]

── 𖦹 ! pretty when you cry - c.s

MEAN!chris sturniolo x CRYBABY!femreader

✎: "take it just— fuck…just like that…your pussy was fucking made f’me"

ᝰ.ᐟ WC: 7k

⚠︎: SMUT!, established relationship, mean!chris x crybaby!reader, alcohol usage, unprotected p in v (no bueno), fingering, oral (f!receiving), PETNAMES ( baby, ma, sweet girl, & big girl is used like twice but not necessarily as a pet name pls spare me😓) +++ so much more.

⟢ REQUESTED?: yes! in this ask.

⟢ AUTHORS NOTE: THIS IS AN ORIGINAL STORYLINE. i DONT allow any copying, "inspiration" or plagiarism. NOT proof read, sorry for any typos :,)

ᝰ.ᐟ

chris was pissed.

not only had you ditched lunch plans with him to go shopping with nick and madison, but it was now 7:21pm and he was sat in the passenger seat of matts car reading off directions to your current location.

while you started off the day with plans for a simple shopping spree, Nick and Madison quickly turned the trip into a "two girls and a gay" extravaganza. despite your initial reluctance, the combined power of Madison's fluttering eyelashes and Nick's charm convinced you to join in on their mimosafest. by the fourth glass, you were already feeling a bit fuzzy, but then Nick reminded you of his and Madison’s upcoming month-long tour. that was the final nail in the coffin—you knew you wouldn’t survive that long without your bestie trio.

the decision to join in on the club night with Nick and Madison had led you here, four hours and countless drinks later. you had lost track of everything—how many drinks each of you had, or even what they were. all you knew was that the alcohol coursing through your veins was making you want to dance. with a bit of persuasive coaxing, you managed to drag both Nick and Madison out onto the dance floor. you three let your bodies move to the beat of the music, laughing and squealing as random girls joined in on your carefree dance party.

caught up in the laughter and music, you had completely forgotten about notifying Chris of your plans to go clubbing. in fact, you weren’t even sure if you still had your phone, or if it was tucked away somewhere in the uber you used to get here.

feeling regret bubbling up in your gut, knowing that not letting Chris know about your plans to party was a mistake that’d bite you in the ass later but the alcohol coursing through your veins quickly did an excellent job at putting your worries at bay.

as you danced with complete abandon, Chris was positively seething. Matt couldn’t help but glance at his brother every so often, concern etched on his face. Chris was gritting his teeth, his hand gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Matt tried to keep a light atmosphere in the car, his voice strained as he attempted to crack a few jokes. however, knowing that his brother’s mood and behavior were all directed towards you, made the air in the car thick with tension.

Matt and Chris hopped out of the car and hurried to the front of the line, explaining to the bouncer that they didn't intend to stay in the club but just wanted to pick up Chris's girlfriend, his brother, and their friend. once granted entry, Chris instantly started searching the club for you, weaving through flashing lights, loud music, and drunken people bumping into him, each interaction adding to his growing irritation. he clenched his jaw so tightly, his teeth began to ache.

Chris’s eyes were laser-focused as he walked around, scanning the sea of dancers in the hopes of spotting you. the mixture of frustration, worry, and anxiety only fueled his determination to find you as quickly as possible.

Chris and Matt forcefully pushed throught the crowd, making their way to where you and Madison were dancing. when Madison saw Chris approach, she stopped mid-sentence, quickly giving you a nudge to turn around. upon seeing Chris, your initial look of confusion morphed into a wide grin.

"CHRIS!!!!" you squealed with excitement, intoxicated and oblivious to his angry demeanor. you threw yourself into his arms, your body pressed against his.

Chris’s jaw ticked as he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist in an almost possessive manner. he felt relieved to have found you, but his anger was still present. he leaned down to speak into your ear so you could hear him over the music.

"come on." Chris muttered, his voice low and firm. he gently but firmly guided you and Madison toward the exit, his grip on your waist keeping you close to his side.

as Chris navigated you and Madison through the club, Matt trailed behind them, struggling to keep a stumbling Nick in tow. Matt firmly grabbed onto Nick's arm, tugging him along with them as they all exited the club.

the cold night air hit you, a sharp contrast to the warm and crowded environment of the club. Chris's grip on your waist didn't loosen as he led you to the waiting car where Matt had managed to steer Nick into the backseat.

Chris opened the back door of the car, his gaze locked onto yours as he helped you into the seat. you stumbled slightly in your intoxicated state, but he steered you into the middle, making room for Madison and Nick to sit on either side.

meanwhile, Matt was wrestling with a giggling Nick in the backseat, struggling to keep him still as he attempted to buckle his seatbelt.

once you were both settled in the middle, Chris shut the door behind you before making his way to the passenger seat in the front. Matt finally managed to secure a giggling Nick in place, and quickly rounded the car to get into the driver's seat himself.

the atmosphere in the car was tense, the silence punctuated only by the occasional burst of laughter from Nick. Chris sat in the passenger seat, his jaw still clenched and his eyes fixed on you through the rearview mirror. Matt started the car, ready to pull out and head home.

with your mind slightly clouded by alcohol, you feel a wave of clingy neediness wash over you. You’re not fully aware of Chris’s anger towards you, and all you want is to be close to him and receive attention. you lean forward, awkwardly wrapping your arms around his arm, snuggling up to him and nuzzling your face against his shoulder, ignoring the way your seatbelt was digging into your torso.

“pssst, Chris,” you whisper loudly into his ear, your breath warm against his skin.

you attempts to get his attention go ignored as Chris stubbornly remains silent. he continues staring straight ahead, ignoring your drunken behavior. you pout in disappointment as Chris continues to give you the cold shoulder, the silence in the car feeling like a dagger. you release your grip on his arm, but your hand continues to rest on his shoulder, drawing small circles.

Chris impatiently shrugs your hand off his shoulder, growing increasingly irritated by your behavior. this causes you to pout further, and you huff in response, leaning back in your seat and sulking.

as a result, you begin babbling to both Nick and Madison, all of you slurring your words due to the copious amounts of alcohol you've consumed.

the three of you talk over each other, laughing loudly and speaking in a mixture of exaggerated tones and drunken mumbles. Chris clenches his jaw tighter in frustration, the noise and your intoxication only worsening his already shitty mood.

Chris's irritation increases with every second that passes, the sound of your drunken laughter grating on the nerves. he glances at you through the rearview mirror every so often, watching as you chatter away to Nick and Madison, seemingly oblivious to his anger.

Matt is focused on the road ahead, occasionally sneaking glances at the three of you through the rearview mirror as he drives the car home. he can sense the tension emanating from Chris and feels the weight of the situation. however, he keeps his focus on getting all five of you back safely without any distractions.

the incessant chattering from the backseat finally pushes Chris over the edge, causing him to snap. he turns around in his seat, his eyes fixed on the three of you in the back.

"bruh can yall shut the fuck up," he snarls, his voice sharp and filled with annoyance. "you’re fuckin annoying me."

silence quickly fills the car as you all snap your mouths shut.

Madison remains calm, slightly surprised by Chris's outburst but choosing not to provoke him further. Nick's sassiness gets the better of him, and he throws a quick retort at Chris, which only serves to irritate him even more.

on the other hand, your sensitivity and intoxication has tears pricking at your eyes in response to Chris's harsh words. you pout and sniffle, hurt by his tone.

as tears stream down your drunken red cheeks, Chris's expression remains stoic, showing no sympathy for you. seeing your emotional reaction only adds fuel to his anger, as he views it as an attempt to manipulate his emotions. his jaw clenches once more, his eyes narrow, and he swiftly turns back around in his seat, staring straight ahead as if refusing to look at you any longer.

still completely ignorant to the anger aimed towards you, radiating off of him, you reach forward and tap Chris’s shoulder, wanting his attention. Chris immediately stiffens at your touch, his jaw muscle twitching with irritation. however, your obliviousness only fuels his frustration. he snaps his head around, his eyes flashing with anger as he glares at you, his voice harsh as he snarls out. "What?"

although you flinch slightly at the sharpness in his tone, you maintain your oblivious demeanor and try to muster up a pouty expression. despite the alcohol clouding your judgment, a small voice inside of you cautions you against pushing his buttons too far, but the liquid courage bubbling in your veins compels you to proceed regardless.

you reach forward and rest your hand on his upper arm, gently tracing your fingers along his bicep as you give him your best puppy dog eyes.

"c’mon, Chris," you murmur, your voice whiny and pleading. "why are you being so mean to me?"

your touch and plea for attention only succeed in infuriating him further. his muscles tense under your fingers, his eyes narrowing as he glares at your drunken, pouting face.

"mean to you? you’re the one who went out and got drunk without letting anyone know," he retorts, his voice laced with irritation. "you could have at least had the decency to send me a goddamn text."

sensing the rising tension between you and Chris, Matt quickly turns up the volume of the music, trying to drown out the conversation happening. the upbeat tune blasts through the speakers, drawing the attention of both Nick and Madison, who begin to bob their heads to the beat.

with the music cranked up, your conversation with Chris becomes less audible to the others, but they can still sense the thick atmosphere in the car. Nick and Madison exchange occasional glances, silently listening in while pretending to focus on the music.

you pout your lips in slight indignation, your alcohol-induced brain still not fully comprehending the situation. you look up at him with watery eyes and say, "well, i just wanted to have a good time with Madi and Nick. you’re so boring, never wanting to go out with us."

for a moment, Chris’s irritation morphs into disbelief, his eyebrows rising slightly at your audacity. He snorts sarcastically before retorting, "boring? you call me boring but then pull a stunt like this. real mature."

your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, struggling to form a coherent response to his comment. you’re too inebriated to realize that your actions tonight are anything but mature. the alcohol has rendered you emotionally vulnerable and childish, and your words start to sound more like a desperate plea rather than a valid argument.

"i just wanted to have fun," you repeat, your voice bordering on a whine. "why are you always so serious? i can take care of myself, y'know."

after your reply, Chris looks at you for a moment, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. He shakes his head, unable to believe the level of immaturity you're displaying.

as the rest of the car ride passes in relative silence, you, Nick, and Madison slowly start to drift off to sleep in the back seat, the alcohol and exhaustion from the night finally taking their toll.

Matt pulls the car into the driveway, the engine purring to a stop. Nick, roused by the car coming to a halt, wakes up with a disoriented groan. he clambers out of the backseat, his movements clumsy and disoriented as the alcohol still affects his motor skills.

Matt quickly gets out of the car and aids Madison in getting out, guiding her toward the house. meanwhile, Chris grudgingly exits the vehicle and assists you, his touch firm but not exactly gentle.

Chris wraps his hand around your upper arm, guiding and steadying you as you stumble out of the car. you’re still half-asleep but conscious enough to recognize his touch. however, even in your exhausted state, you instinctively lean into him, seeking his warmth and comfort, despite the tension between both of you.

Matt guides Madison and Nick to Nick's room as they mutter a slurred "goodnight" before disappearing behind the door. Chris turns his attention to you, his lips pressed into a thin line. he silently leads you into the bedroom, his demeanor remaining stoic and distant.

once inside, he silently helps you undress, carefully removing your clothes in a detached but efficient manner.

as Chris helps you undress, the alcohol in your system loosens your tongue, and you start to babble in a sleepy, slurred voice.

"missed you s’much today." you sigh, pouting slightly, your eyes half-lidded.

however, Chris remains largely unresponsive, his jaw clenched as he focuses on getting you into something comfortable to sleep in. ignored, your pout deepens, and you let out a small whine.

you continue to pout, frustration mounting within you at Chris's lack of response. you look up at him, your bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. With an air of drunken petulance, you whine again.

"why won't you talk to me? i said i missed you."

once more, Chris continues to act as if he can't hear your whiney plea. he grabs a soft t-shirt from the dresser and gestures for you to lift your arms up so he can slip it over your head.

his expression remains stoic, giving no hint of whether he's actively ignoring you or simply too focused on getting you comfortable for bed.

after helping you into bed and adjusting the covers, Chris stands next to the bed and nods toward you, signaling that he's done. He then mutters, "gonna take a shower."

with that, he turns and walks to the bathroom, disappearing inside and shutting the door behind him.

the alcohol gradually takes effect, and your inhibitions start to slip. as you lie in bed, your mind begins to wander. the physical absence of Chris, combined with your intoxicated state, starts to awaken a more primal part of you.

a feeling of desire and neediness starts to bubble within you. you find yourself craving his touch, his voice, his presence. your thoughts start to turn down a more sultry and suggestive path.

your mind starts to paint vivid images as you think of Chris in the shower. you imagine the water cascading down his muscled body, the steam clinging to his skin, and the towel hanging around his hips.

the thought alone sends a wave of heat through your body, your pulse quickening at the mental image playing out in your mind. your cheeks flush as your imagination runs wild.

the vivid imagery and growing arousal only intensify as your drunken mind continues to wander. your hand slowly trails down your body, fingertips grazing over the swell of your breasts before dipping lower, teasing along the waistband of your panties.

you squirm against the sheets, aching for more contact. a soft moan escapes your lips as you picture Chris stepping out of the shower, droplets of water glistening on his torso. in your mind's eye, he catches you staring and smirks knowingly, letting the towel drop to the floor.

lost in the fantasy, your fingers slip beneath the fabric, seeking relief from the building heat between your thighs. you arch into your own touch, breath coming faster now as you lose yourself to the sensations and forbidden imaginings of your boyfriend.

with trembling fingers, you slide your panties down, exposing your slick folds to the cool air of the room. your breathing grows ragged as you delve two digits inside yourself, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot deep within. soft, drunken moans spill from your parted lips, echoing in the quiet of the night.

as you pleasure yourself, the distant sound of the shower stills, replaced by the creak of the bathroom door opening. water droplets from Chris' damp skin sparkle in the dim light as he pads silently towards the bed, his eyes locked onto the intimate scene unfolding before him.

your pulse races at being caught in such a compromising position, but instead of pulling away, you continue to touch yourself shamelessly, lost in the throes of desire.

Chris stands at the foot of the bed, the towel draped low around his hips, barely covering the prominent bulge straining against the fabric. His piercing gaze is fixed intently on the erotic display before him - your slender fingers dancing across your sensitive flesh, coaxing pleasure from your quivering core.

"please, Chris," you whimper, your voice thick with lust, "touch me... i need you..." but he remains motionless, simply observing your desperate pleas with an unreadable expression.

undeterred, you bring your other hand up to join the first, frantically rubbing your swollen clit in tight circles. your back arches off the mattress, a keening moan ripping from your throat as the tension builds. Chris' eyes never leave your face, drinking in every gasp, every shudder, every plea for release.

Chris sinks down beside you on the bed, his movements deliberate and controlled. he reaches out, his palm cool against your inner thigh, gently but firmly parting your legs wider apart. you tremble under his touch, a mix of nervousness and anticipation coursing through you.

without a word, he settles himself between your splayed legs, his face mere inches from your dripping cunt. the intoxicating scent of your arousal fills his nostrils as he leans in closer, his warm breath ghosting over your most intimate area. your fingers slow their frantic pace, almost ceasing movement altogether as you await his next action, heart pounding in your chest.

as Chris's face hovers tantalizingly close, you instinctively shift your hands, trying to draw him in, to capture his mouth against your aching clit. but he forestalls your advance, his strong grip closing around your hips, halting your movement.

"no, keep going," he commands harshly, his voice low and authoritative. his words send a thrill through you.

obediently, you resume stroking your clit, your fingers moving in time with the rapid beat of your heart. Chris watches intently, his dark eyes burning with an unspoken hunger as he drinks in the sight of you pleasuring yourself under his stern instruction. the contrast between his commanding demeanor and the vulnerability of your act only heightens the intensity of the moment.

despite your best efforts, the pressure builds to a crescendo, your climax hovering just out of reach. Frustrated and needy, you plead with Chris, "please, i need you..."

but he merely scoffs, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he mocks your words from earlier "you can take care of yourself ma."

your frustration mounts as you struggle to reach completion, your small hands inadequate to satisfy the intense ache pulsing through you. tears of desperation prick at the corners of your eyes as you writhe beneath Chris' watchful gaze.

"please…" you whimper, your voice raw with need. "i can't... i need you to make me come."

Chris' smirk only widens at your pitiful pleas, clearly enjoying the power he holds over you. "what's wrong, baby? can't handle taking care of yourself like a big girl?" he taunts, his tone dripping with condescension.

tears stream down your face as you shake your head frantically, too far gone to care about preserving any semblance of pride. the effects of the alcohol in your system slowly dissipating as your body grows hungrier for his touch. "no, please... m’sorry— need you so badly."

Chris' eyes narrow as he takes in your tear-streaked face, your desperate pleas hanging heavy in the air between you. for a long moment, he simply stares, his expression inscrutable. then, without warning, he surges forward, his mouth crashing against your dripping cunt in a brutal kiss.

a strangled cry tears from your throat at the sudden contact, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face. his tongue delves deep, lapping at your essence greedily as he feasts upon you. the stubble of his chin scrapes deliciously against your sensitive flesh, adding a new dimension to the overwhelming sensations consuming you.

your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the damp strands as you hold him in place, afraid he might pull away.

Chris devours you with a ferocity that borders on punishing, his tongue lashing against your sensitive nub with ruthless precision. each flick and swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you grind yourself shamelessly against his face. broken moans and incoherent pleas tumble from your lips, lost in the haze of ecstasy that threatens to consume you whole.

just as you teeter on the brink of oblivion, Chris pulls away abruptly, leaving you bereft and wanting. you whine in protest, your hips jerking upwards in a futile attempt to recapture his touch. he chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your swollen clit.

"not yet, ma,"

Chris continues his relentless assault, his tongue delving deeper into your heated core. every lick, every swirl brings you closer to the precipice, each wave of pleasure building upon the last until you're left gasping and writhing beneath him.

his fingers find your swollen clit, pinning it against his thumb as he begins to circle the sensitive nub mercilessly. a choked sob escapes your lips as the dual assault of his mouth and hand pushes you further than you've ever been before.

your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure ripple through your core. your cries echo throughout the room as you ride out the aftershocks, completely spent and utterly satisfied.

before you can even catch your breath, Chris is on you again, his mouth descending upon your sensitive flesh once more. the sensation is almost too much to bear, your oversensitive skin crying out in protest even as your body betrays you, craving more.

he laps at your essence hungrily, his tongue delving deep into your fluttering walls as if seeking to claim every last drop. your hands fist in the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you clench the fabric, anchoring yourself against the overwhelming tide of sensation.

Chris' fingers join the fray, two digits plunging into your slick heat as he curls them just right, hitting that sweet spot within you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. your hips buck wildly, meeting his thrusts with abandon as you chase another peak, another shattering release.

lost in a haze of pleasure, you find yourself unable to form coherent words. all that escapes your lips are broken moans and garbled pleas, your mind too focused on the exquisite sensations radiating from your core to string together a proper sentence.

as Chris works you towards another earth-shattering orgasm, your body arches off the bed, your back bowing as you surrender yourself fully to the overwhelming ecstasy. your thighs quiver, your muscles tensing as the coil within you winds tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

with a final, brutal thrust of his fingers and a hard suckle of your clit, Chris sends you hurtling over the edge once more. your vision whites out, your world narrowing down to the singular point where his mouth meets your cunt as you come undone beneath him, screaming his name like a prayer.

as the last tremors of your orgasm fade, Chris suddenly sits up. before you can voice your disappointment, his palm connects sharply with your sensitive mound, sending a jolt of painful pleasure racing up your spine.

the unexpected sting has you gasping, your eyes flying open wide as you stare up at Chris in shock. He grins wickedly down at you, clearly relishing the effect his actions have had on you. by this point your absolutely positive any trace of alcohol in your system has been completely fucked out.

without warning, he shifts your limp, satiated body effortlessly, maneuvering you onto his lap as he leans back against the headboard. His throbbing cock presses insistently against your thigh through the towel, a reminder of his own pent-up desire.

Chris settles you comfortably in his lap, his strong arms encircling your waist as he holds you close. you can feel the heat of his skin seeping into yours, his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath your cheek. for a moment, you allow yourself to relax into his embrace, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

then, slowly, teasingly, Chris begins to rock his hips, grinding his still-clothed erection against your sensitive folds. the friction sends sparks of pleasure dancing along your nerve endings, reigniting the fire within you despite your exhaustion.

his hands roam your body possessively, mapping every curve and hollow as if committing you to memory. he lifts your shirt up slightly and dips his head, capturing one pert nipple between his teeth and tugging gently, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"look at you," he mocks, his tone dripping with desire and sarcasm.

Chris chuckles low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your chest as he continues to toy with your nipples, alternating between gentle tugs and soft bites.

“acting like such a big girl, blowing me off all day without so much as a text. and now, here you are, practically begging for my attention."

his words should offend you, but instead, they only serve to stoke the flames of your neediness. you squirm in his lap, your hips rolling instinctively against his clothed arousal as you seek relief from the ache building within you.

"you're such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Chris taunts.

your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and arousal at Chris' mocking words. despite the teasing, you can't deny the truth in his statement - you did blow him off today, and now you're practically climbing his body in an attempt to satisfy the gnawing hunger within you.

"i...i forgot..." you start to defend yourself, but the words trail off as Chris' fingers find your sensitive clit, circling the swollen bud with maddening slowness. a whimper escapes your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily into his touch.

"you..you forgot what, ma?" Chris prompts, his voice a low purr as he mocks your stuttering.

"i-i was just hanging out with Nick and Madison," you stammer, trying to focus on the conversation despite the intense stimulation Chris is providing. "we got caught up talking and lost track of time. i didn't mean to ignore you!"

Chris listens patiently, his expression unreadable as he allows you to explain yourself. but then, with a sudden movement, he tugs the towel loose from under him, letting it fall away to reveal his fully erect cock standing proudly at attention.

the sight takes your breath away, and for a moment, you forget all about your excuses, your gaze fixated on the thick length of him. Chris smirks knowingly, his free hand stroking himself lazily as he waits for you to continue.

you lean in, your intention clear as you reach for Chris' impressive erection. but before your fingers can make contact, his hand shoots out, slapping yours away with a firm "nuh uh."

he punctuates the denial with a mocking kiss of his teeth, a frown falls onto your face.

Chris' grip tightens around your wrist, holding your hand captive in his lap as he looks at you with a mixture of amusement and sternness.

Chris releases your wrist only to grasp your chin firmly, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "listen up, because i’m only going to say this once," he says, his voice low and authoritative. "tonight, you put me in a world of shit, worrying about where you were and if you were okay. whole damn time you were just out there living it up, completely unaware of the stress you caused me."

he pauses, studying your reaction before continuing. "let me make one thing crystal clear: i’m in charge here, ma. when you neglect to check in or consider someone else's feelings, you end up in trouble. and right now? you're in a whole lot of it."

Chris' thumb brushes across your lower lip, his touch both soothing and threatening. "so here's what's going to happen."

Chris leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers his demands. "first, you're going to apologize properly for putting me through hell tonight. then, you're going to show me just how sorry you really are."

with those words, Chris claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake its claim. his hands roam your body possessively, squeezing and kneading every inch of exposed skin until you're writhing in his lap, desperate for more.

Chris breaks the kiss, his chest heaving as he looks down at you with a mix of lust and control. "apologize," he commands, his voice rough with desire.

you swallow hard, your mind racing to process the intensity of the situation. but with Chris' piercing gaze boring into you, you know there's no room for hesitation. "i’m sorry," you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “m’really, really sorry for worrying you and not checking in. it thoughtless and selfish of me..."

as you continue apologizing, Chris starts to stroke himself again, his movements slow and deliberate. each word from your lips seems to spur him on, his cock twitching in anticipation.

your apologies tumble from your lips, tears begin to stream down your face, guilt overwhelming you. Chris watches impassively, his eyes cold as he listens to your words. suddenly, he cuts you off mid-sentence, feigning sympathy as he pulls you into a brief, patronizing hug.

"oh, poor baby," he coos mockingly. "you feel so bad, don't you sweet girl? gonna make it up me, hm?"

before you can respond, Chris grabs your hips roughly and positions you over his throbbing cock. With no warning whatsoever, he slams you down onto him, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. the sudden intrusion steals the air from your lungs, pain and pleasure mingling in a dizzying rush.

your fingers dig into Chris' shoulders as he buries himself inside you, the sensation overwhelming. "wait!" you gasp, trying to halt his movements. "t—..too much…"

“ ‘too much’ too fucking bad, i don’t care. take it.” he mocks you as his hands grip your hips tightly as he grinds you down onto him. the pain is almost unbearable, but mixed with the pleasure, it feels incredibly good. you try to push back against him, but his hold is unyielding, leaving you trapped beneath his powerful frame.

Chris holds you steady, his pace relentless as he pounds into you with increasing force. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your muffled cries and his guttural groans.

despite your initial protests, your body begins to adapt, craving the intense friction and fullness Chris provides. you arch your back, meeting each thrust with a desperate grind of your own, the pleasure building rapidly within you.

"fuck, look at you," Chris growls, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you take him. "love seeing you get used to my cock, y/n.”

your body betrays you, responding to Chris' dominant thrusts with a growing need for more. the pain has transformed into a sharp, delicious ache, fueling the rising heat between your thighs.

"please..." you whimper, as your hips move instinctively to meet his, seeking that perfect angle for maximum pleasure. tears still streak your face, but they're tinged with a strange, exhilarating mix of shame and arousal.

"that’s it, baby," he encourages, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "take it just— fuck…just like that…your pussy was fucking made f’me”

chris continues to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm unrelenting. each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, the pressure building relentlessly within you.

your walls clench around him involuntarily, your body betraying your resistance. despite your earlier pleas, you find yourself pushing back against him eagerly now, desperate for release.

"fuck yeah," Chris groans in approval, feeling your tight walls quiver and spasm around his cock. "fucking love seeing you squirm on my dick.”

Chris' grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain as he increases his tempo, each thrust driving deeper and harder than before. his breath comes in harsh pants, his face twisted in a mask of raw, animalistic lust.

"you wanted this, didn't you?" he snarls, his voice dripping with cruel mockery. "wanted me to fuck you senseless, make you cum all over my cock?"

his words cut through the haze of pleasure, striking a nerve even as your body continues to respond eagerly to his brutal assault. a part of you recoils at the degrading language, but another part, darker and more primal, craves the domination, the complete loss of control.

Chris leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "this is what happens when you forget your place, ma. when you think you can run wild and free, without considering the consequences."

he punctuates his words with a particularly vicious thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours. the movement sends shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core, drawing a choked moan from your throat.

"that's right, let me hear you," Chris taunts, his voice a sinful purr. "moan for me, baby. let everyone know who owns this pussy."

Chris doesn't bother to quiet his increasingly loud grunts and groans, fully aware that anyone nearby could likely hear the lewd sounds of his dominance.

"fuck, you're so goddamn tight," he growls, his hips snapping against yours with ruthless precision. "gonna ruin this cunt for anyone else, make sure you never forget who you belong to."

the sheer audacity of his declaration, coupled with the brutal intensity of his thrusts, leaves you breathless and utterly at his mercy. even with the humiliation of being so thoroughly claimed, you can't deny the intoxicating thrill that courses through you, the knowledge that you've been marked, owned, in the most primal way possible.

your voice barely audible over the obscene slap of flesh against flesh. "please, Chris...i can't...it's too much..."

but even as the words leave your lips, your body continues to respond to his relentless pounding, your inner walls fluttering and clenching around his invading length. the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure swirl together, threatening to consume you entirely.

Chris seems to relish your struggles, his pace never faltering as he drives home his point, his dominance over you absolute. "too much?" he scoffs, his breath hot against your neck. "you wanted this, ma. now you're gonna take it."

without warning, Chris yanks you off his cock and spins you around, forcing you to drop to your hands and knees on the bed. he yanks your hips back, your ass raised high and inviting.

"fucking perfect," he murmurs, running a hand over the curve of your rear possessively. then, with a swift, brutal thrust, he sheathes himself back inside you, stretching you open once more.

Chris sets a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against your ass as he takes you from behind. the new angle allows him to hit even deeper, the head of his cock battering relentlessly at your cervix with each powerful stroke.

"look at that ass bounce," he pants, his grip on your hips tightening. "so beautiful, taking my cock like a good little slut."

Chris brings his palm down hard on the rounded globe of your ass, the crack of the impact ringing out in the room. a bright red handprint blooms instantly on your tender flesh, marking you as his property.

the sudden sting sends a jolt straight to your core, triggering an intense orgasm that crashes through you without warning. your vision whites out, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of ecstasy consumes you.

but Chris shows no mercy, continuing to pound into you even as you convulse around him, milking his cock with rhythmic spasms. the added stimulation only seems to spur him on, his strokes becoming faster, harder, more frenzied.

"that’s it, cum on my cock like a good little whore," he growls, one hand fisting in your hair as he yanks your head back. "fucking take it."

as the aftershocks of your third orgasm subside, you collapse further into the bed, your mind reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Chris continues to rut into you with abandon, his movements erratic and driven by his own impending release.

"ahh, f-fuck...so g-good," you stutter, your words tumbling out in a breathless, incoherent stream. "c-can't...can't believe how much...oh god, Chris!"

your body, still sensitive from the brutal fucking, responds to every twitch and throb of his cock inside you. the sensation is almost too much to bear, your nerves stretched taut and singing with pleasure.

Chris grunts, his pace faltering as he nears his peak. "gonna...fuck, gonna fill this pussy up," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips.

with a final, guttural groan, Chris pulls out of you abruptly, leaving you empty and aching. he flips you over onto your back, looming above you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"not done with you yet, ma," he says, his voice low and menacing.

before you can react, he's crawling up your body, his mouth finding yours in a searing kiss. his tongue invades your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as his hands roam over your breasts and stomach.

when he finally breaks the kiss, you're left panting and dazed, your body thrumming with need. Chris smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the power he holds over you.

Chris grips your thighs, spreading them wide as he positions himself between them. his eyes lock onto yours, dark with lust and possession.

"wanna see your pretty face," he growls, his voice thick with desire.

with that, he surges forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. you cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing around him.

Chris starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. each stroke is deep and purposeful, designed to stretch and claim you completely.

as he picks up speed, his gaze remains fixed on your face, drinking in every expression of pleasure and submission. the intensity of his stare only heightens your arousal, making you feel exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

Chris' thrusts become more urgent, his breathing growing ragged as he chases his release. his hands slide under your thighs, lifting and spreading your legs wider, opening you up completely to his possession.

"you’re mine, y/n," he pants, his voice strained with exertion. "this pussy belongs to me, understand? no one else gets to touch you like this."

his words, combined with the relentless pounding of his cock, push you closer to the edge once more. your body trembles beneath him, teetering on the brink of another shattering climax.

"beg for it," Chris demands, his hips snapping forward with bruising force. "beg me to fill you up, i know you want it."

"p-please, Chris!" you whimper, your voice breaking on a sob. "n-need…need your cum…”

your desperate plea seems to unleash something primal within him. Chris lets out a feral growl, his thrusts becoming savage and unrelenting as he drives towards his climax.

"yes, fuck yes," he snarls, his eyes blazing with raw hunger. "take it all, ma. i know you can do it"

with a final, brutal plunge, Chris buries himself to the hilt inside you. his cock throbs and pulses as he erupts, flooding your depths with his scorching hot release. wave after wave of his essence pumps into you, marking you irrevocably as his.

as Chris' orgasm subsides, he collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. you can feel his heart thundering against your chest, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

after a long moment, he lifts his head, looking down at you with a mix of satisfaction and possession. "i love you," his voice is soft with a low rumble.

he rolls off you, pulling you into his arms as he settles back against the pillows. despite the exhaustion that threatens to claim you, you find yourself curling into his side, seeking the warmth and security of his embrace.

Chris runs his fingers through your hair, gently brushing the sweat-dampened strands away from your face. there’s a hint of tenderness in his touch, a stark contrast to the rough passion of moments before.

"we’re going to talk about this in the morning kid," he says softly, his tone firm but not unkind. "about you blowing me off, gotta to set some things straight, ma."

despite the gravity of his words, there's no real anger in his voice. instead, there's a sense of determination, a quiet insistence that he won't let this happen again.

for now, though, he simply holds you close, allowing you both to bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. tomorrow will bring its own challenges, but for tonight, you're content to lose yourself in the comfort of his embrace.

you nod sleepily, already feeling the heaviness of exhaustion pulling you under. Chris tucks you in tighter, his arm a solid barrier across your waist.

" get some rest," he murmurs, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "sweet dreams my sweet girl"

as his warm breath washes over your skin, you let out a contented sigh, your eyelids drifting shut. the steady beat of Chris' heart and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep, unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon.

AUTHORS NOTE: whoever this cutesy lil anon is, i apologize i literally thought i posted this last night LOLL. i hope this fits ur stands, if not lmk and i’ll write another immediately :,))

TAG LIST: @freshloveee @floralsturniolo @joces-wrld @chrissturnioloslittleslut @sophand4n4 @iloveragdollcats @sophsturns @sturniyolo69 @watercolorskyy

disclaimer: asking to be added to my tag list is completely okay, just know you’ll be tagged in ALL posts. if you aren’t okay with that and want to be removed just lmk :)

[luxurychristmaspudding]

summary: after a night out dancing and a lift home turns into something more, you learn something about your dad's buddy. joel miller fucks.

pairing: young!joel miller x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. it's smut, y'all. everything you've come to expect. respectable age gap (10 years ish), tiny bit of spanking, one (1) gentle pussy slap, lil bit of daddy kink, joel miller eats it from the back (oral (f&m)), edging, unprotected piv (do better), creampie, feelings, joel miller's whore mouth.

reader has hair and wears dresses, no other descriptions or name.

wc: 7.2k

an: for @schnarfer. my favourite hot priest, i worship in your church <3

Joel went out looking for trouble that night.

Hair curling at the nape of his neck, a beer sweltering in his hand as beads of sweat carved their way down the strong line of his back. T-shirt sticking to his skin, tension wound tight in his shoulders, thick in every muscle, every strand of sinew after work. 

Revelling in the feeling of how the weight of the day lifted the more he drank, the more he relaxed, feeling his smile get wider the more he loosened up in the crowded bar. Freshly thirty five, another year in hand. Tommy buying the shots, introducing him to every new face that walked into the steaming, heavy swell of wood and linoleum, every stranger who leant against the tacky bar, every pretty girl who flicked their hair and batted their eyelashes. 

He’s laughing - held flung back, chest heaving - harder than he has in a long time. Dancing in a way so unlike how he dances with Sarah in the kitchen, welcoming the heavy, slow grind of hips against his own, breathless against a sweet smelling neck. It’s hot and it’s loud on this Friday night in Austin, and he loves it.

Not quite basking in the attention of being the birthday boy, but shouldering the stream of conversation that Tommy directs his way nonetheless. Cheeks flushed pink as he’s hauled up on to the bar top, clumsy, unsure where to look as the bartender encourages him to stand in full view of the crowd. The whole bar, oscillating with colour and light and sound, roaring into a raucous chorus of happy birthday, beckoned by the chime of the bell by the till.

The spectacle of it all makes him look to the ceiling before dropping his chin to his chest, makes him laugh again, watching these people, many strangers, cheer and sing for him. 

He holds his beer to his chest through the first part of the song, cheeks tight with a smile. His eyes swivel to the corner of the dancefloor on the downturn of Joel… catching the flicker and flare of a pair he recognises, scanning your face on the refrain - happy birthday - heart dropping confusingly low in his chest, the world taking a sticky beat as his blood halts and begins to rush again - to you.

He’s not seen you here before. Much more used to seeing you coming and going from your father’s house - bright smile, wicked eyes. Moved back home after spending some time out west when you’d finished your Masters program, always happy to chat for a little longer if you were where he was. Interesting and interested - he’s been regaled by tales of you from your father - the man who’s been overseeing safety on Joel’s latest job site - and listened to more directly from you, lip caught between his teeth as he bit back amusement at the things you didn’t want your dad to know.

Your father is a good man. Kind, supportive. So proud of you in the way he talks that Joel’s taking blueprints for raising Sarah. And you - you. Joel tries to think of you in ways he thinks of other colleagues or acquaintances. Smart, creative, perceptive. Patient, generous with your time and energy when entertaining neighbours at cookouts. Any other thoughts creep in in the dead of night, and he’s quick to try and forget them by morning.

But this - you here, now - is entirely different. It could be the buzz of the tequila in his system, could be the hot blood in his veins, could be the giddy little flash of that smile you shoot him as you clap and whoop with the rest of the crowd, but his feet are itching to find you once he half hops, half clambers down off the bar, accepting claps on the back and other sentiments as he searches for you again.

But you’re gone.

Disappeared, into thin air. Like he imagined you in the first place.

He cranes his neck a little, twisting his head from side to side as if trying to loosen another tight muscle, trying to tamp down the damp disappointment he feels. 

Trying to remember how he tries to forget.

‘Happy birthday, cowboy,’ the words are breathless, squeezed through a smile.

The grin that creeps across his face is slow and wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes as he turns to face you.

‘Evenin’, darlin’,’ is his reply. Deep, coy, any idea of hiding his thoughts gone, buried. It’s his birthday, and you’re here. You and your sparkling eyes.

‘You gonna let me buy you a drink, or have you got a queue of ladies lining up to do that already?’

He laughs, and you feel the sound glimmer down your body, lighting every synapse, every receptor. You track his gaze as it drifts down your body and back up, spine straightening at his appraisal. 

Delicious thighs beneath the hem of your skirt, soft swell of your breasts above your neckline. 

‘Your daddy know you’re here?’ He asks, delighting in the way you scoff. 

‘My daddy knows I’m out tonight,’ you say, licking your teeth, eyes dropping to his mouth, ‘And he don’t care much about it. I’m a big girl, Joel. I can handle myself.’

They’re big words for someone around ten years his junior, but he doesn’t doubt it. He’s heard your bartending stories, about your debates with fratboys. Something about your confidence, your self-assuredness licks a tongue of flame up his back. He bites his cheek.

‘Best buy me that drink, then.’

He went looking for trouble that night. 

And Jesus, he found it. 

Found it on the dancefloor, your soft body grinding against his. The heat and the sweat, how you moved your hips with his, how you’d giggled when he’d turned you around, pulling you flush against him. Your hands grasping for him, clutching at his thigh as you pressed firmly against the bulge growing at your backside, head tipped back, bliss etched across your face as you felt each other.

Found it in his truck when he dragged you outside under the pretence of giving you a lift home, found it when he rucked your skirt up on the backseat, when he pulled the top of your dress down. Inches of skin he had banished fantasies about to the back of his mind, revealed to him in the dim light of the parking lot. The sweat gleaming on your sternum, shining on your clavicles, your neck. He wishes, now, that he had taken more time to tell you how beautiful you looked, how smart you are, how funny, that first time, but the two of you had been too caught up in seeing, feeling, as much as possible. 

His knees had protested as he crammed himself onto the floor, wanting to be between those thighs, wanting to taste you. Pressing, gliding his fingers against your pussy over your underwear, watching you keen and beg, hands twisting tight in the material of your dress, then his shirt collar, then his hair. 

And that first swipe of his tongue when he’d pulled your underwear to the side, that first, most base knowledge of you. The sweet and sour, your smell, the way you became pliant, willing to have your thighs pushed up towards your chest. Quickly obsessed with the way you looked down at him, jaw slack, pupils blown, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Quickly obsessed with the way your pussy looked, puffy, needy, the way it leaked and clenched before him as he leant back to spit on it, how your head hit the headrest with a soft thump.

Too obsessed, everything about that night feeling too good as he lowered you down onto him, as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder to stop himself from coming too early, watching you bounce on his cock, listening to the way you moaned and panted and whimpered his name. The wet sounds of you fucking, the way he held you still, big hands on your waist as he bucked up into you. The way your noises, your breathing stuttered as he thrusted harder, as he dropped you lower. The fogged windows, low bass from the bar, how you clenched and fluttered around him as he wrung two orgasms from your pretty body before spilling himself inside you.

He’s been finding trouble ever since.

Finding reasons to help you grab drinks, bring out nibbles at your dad’s Halloween party. Finding excuses to have you backed up against the tool bench in the garage instead, his hips between yours, soft lips against chapped or your hand tight against your mouth to make sure nobody would find you. Heading back out into the garden with his cock still swollen, tucked into his black slacks, feeling your slick around its base still, your fake blood smeared on his dog collar, watching as you pressed your thighs together in your seat, knowing you could still feel him trickling out of you. He could hear your teasing through the glint in your eye - some priest you are, father.

Driving you home from the bar after a night of dancing around each other, after glances were snuck whenever they could be - over his brother’s shoulder, between your friends’ laughter. The crackle of electricity in the truck cab as the warm air threaded itself between you, your sparkling eyes, devious little laugh. 

Walking you to your door, keeping you safe, don't wanna disappoint your old man. 

Jamming his foot between the wood and the frame to come in when you told him he wasn’t home. 

The mornings when Sarah’s waking up, still sugar-high after a sleepover, in a house the other side of town. The mornings he’s awake first, drinking coffee at his kitchen table when you hop down the stairs in his t-shirt from the night before, sleep-stained and perfect. The mornings that start with you in his lap, with kisses pressed to temples, lips, necks, his wide palms snaking under the material, fiending warm skin, finding it, cradling it. The firm weight of your breasts in his palms, the pebbling of your nipples beneath his thumbs. The soft rock of your hips against his hardening length, his fingers reaching to pull your panties to the side, finding you soaked like that first night. How you whine and huff against his shoulder as he sinks one, two, three digits into you, as he twists them, pumps them, as he uses his thumb to toy with your clit. The wet patch you leave, darkening the grey tenting below you, the outline of him something you want to press your face against, nuzzle, mouth at until he’s begging this time. 

Mornings when he takes you apart deftly, until you hover above him, pulling his hard, leaking cock over the top of his sweatpants, savouring that delicious stretch around him, the way he thickens out at the base, the way the wiry hair there catches on your clit. When you can enjoy the way he holds you there afterwards, talking about your days ahead, nibbling at your ear as his cum slips from you along with his softening cock. 

All these moments, and they’re never enough.

Because despite how often they happen, how often he might be able to hold you, kiss you - you make Joel Miller feel like a fucking teenager. 

It’s been years since he’s woken up to the cooling evidence of a wet dream in his boxers. He’s having them nightly now in his thirties; sick and tired of waking up wet and aching and sticky, sick and tired of wishing it was you, not his hand, helping to solve the problem.

He wants you here so much more often than he does. The tip of his tongue on the evenings you call, sunlight fading through the window, orange on his sheets. He wonders, as you talk, what it would look like painted onto your skin. 

He wants Sarah to actually know how he feels about the woman who babysits her every so often, wants Tommy to understand the reason why he turns up smiling to the site every day. And he wants your father to know his daughter has found someone who’ll treat her right, who’ll hold her hand through the bad days and give her all he can to make her smile.

The more he thinks about it, the more he wonders whether you have, too. 

Whether you’d confess to your father the crush you have on the contractor, ask if he could put in a good word for you. There isn’t much between you - it would only take some careful wording, an evening where he can present the flowers he’s been dying to give you at your door.

He’s sure your father wouldn’t mind.

But this secret, the sneaking around - he can’t deny the thrill of it. Stolen touches, kisses, whispers in the moonlight. Quiet jokes between the two of you, the looks exchanged around others, the show of you putting your hand on his shoulder - can I get you anything else, Mr Miller?

You’ve only come close to being found out once. Just the once. By Tommy - who else could it have been? 

Tommy, who couldn't hide his delight when he found the underwear you’d left behind in Joel's truck one morning, wheezing with laughter as Joel stuffed your soft, cotton panties into his back pocket. His cheeks aflame, he swore under his breath that he’d kill his little brother if he ever flicked a woman’s underwear at him like that again instead of doing the right thing - kicking them under the seat and pretending he hadn’t seen anything. 

Between gasping breaths, Tommy had managed to make a good point. At least it wasn't Sarah who’d found them.

You gonna tell me who the lucky lady is, big brother?

He didn’t. Not yet.

It’s been so unbearably hot all day.

Too hot to work in the open air, and though Joel’s not grateful for the heat, he is grateful for the chance to stay at home. A chance to catch up on chores while Sarah basks in the AC at school, a chance to work his way through bills and invoices, fighting to keep his head clear of any thought of you and what you might be up to in weather like this.

He keeps his eyes carefully trained on numbers, figures, dates, unaware of the clock, unaware of the calls he’s missing. Only catches himself daydreaming when the lines start to blur.

He makes it to just past lunchtime when he hears a car pull up in the driveway. He knows the rattle of that engine, the heave of noise it makes as it turns off.

He stands from the table, blood racing in his chest.

‘God- motherfuckin’ shit,'

Joel lets the front door hang open behind him, folding his arms across his heart as you try and jam your wing mirror back in place.

‘You kiss your grandma with that mouth?’

You grin, flipping him off as you slam the door closed. The mirror sticks.

‘Yeah. Suck your dick with it, too,’

His lips quirk, watching as you stand with your hip against the front of your car, a box in one hand, the other shielding your eyes from the sun. Staring at each other, a little game you play. You watch his smirk grow, feeling the trickle of sweat down your spine.

‘There a reason why you’re here?’

You roll your eyes, like it should be obvious. And it is obvious, but -

‘Freezer’s fucked,’ you huff, and Joel raises an eyebrow. ‘Can I put them in yours?’

You hold the box up to him.

‘Popsicles?’ Joel frowns. You roll your eyes at him.

‘Please, Joel. They’re literally the only thing keeping me sane,’

He scratches at his jaw, pretending to contemplate.

‘I dunno, darlin’,’ he says, ‘The only thing? Surely that AC of yours is doin’ a fine job,'

You scoff at him, folding your own arms. 

‘That old piece a’ shit ain’t doin’ nothin’ and you know it,’

He chuckles, letting his arms drift to his sides.

‘Guess I can take care of ‘em for ya. Anythin’ else?’

You bite your lip, eyes glinting in the sun.

‘Can I come in?’ you ask. A slow, smug smile grows across Joel’s lips.

‘'N do what, exactly?’

You pout at him, fluttering your eyelashes. His cock twitches.

‘Just wanna swim in the pool. Promise I won’t do nothin’ else, Mr Miller,’

‘Nothin’ else, baby?’ He says, lowly.

You shake your head, eyes wide. Picture of false innocence.

‘Nothin’ else,'

If there are two things Joel has come to know about you in the last year, it’s that you’re a great fuck, and a bad liar.

He steps back into the open door behind him, grinning as you skip past him into the hallway. He watches, snicking the catch and lock as you make your way into the kitchen, swinging open the refrigerator door, finding a spot for your iced treats. He follows, leaning against the doorframe, watching as you stand in the cold air flowing from the appliance for a moment, your eyes closed.

He’s looking at your legs when you turn to speak to him, snapping to meet your gaze as though he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. That ship sailed long ago. You grin at him.

‘Whatcha been doin’?’

He exhales, stepping closer.

‘Workin’,’

You hum, meeting him beside the kitchen table, surveying the stacks of paper.

‘Not too hard?’

‘Hard to, when I'm thinkin’ ‘bout you,’

You grin, twisting to look at him.

‘You sweet on me, Miller?’

He shrugs.

‘Bout time you noticed,’

His hands find your waist as yours make their way up his chest, his shoulders, winding around his neck.

‘I had my suspicions,’ you whisper, before pressing your lips to his. He smiles into it, parting his lips to invite you in, rocking you back and forth in his arms.

‘Missed you,’ you breathe, and he hums in response.

‘Missed you too, baby,’

You’re salty sweet; warm scent of your skin, your sun lotion, your perfume, your sweat. When he’s satisfied, done licking lazily into your mouth, exploring the taste of your lips, he moves to your neck. Laving kisses there, biting, sucking, nibbling as you sigh against him. He bites harder, earning a particularly needy whimper, hands moving to knead the flesh of your ass through your dress.

‘Joel,’ you murmur, ‘You’ll leave a mark,’

He hums, trailing kisses up your neck to the space behind your ear, along your jaw, before finally meeting your lips again.

‘Don’t care.’

He’s grasping your hips to turn you so you’re pressed against the table, your back to his firm chest. You can’t help the gasp, the giggle that floats from you as he tugs you closer, as you feel the heft of him pressed into the small of your back. You shift your hips, brushing against him, slow and purposeful.

Joel groans - a long, drawn out, hungry sound. He pulls your hips tighter to him, moving against you just the same before his hands slide up to your breasts, holding the weight of each in his palms, squeezing and rolling a nipple between his thumb and finger. You tip your head back against his shoulder, and he hums approvingly as you begin to grind against him in earnest. He pauses only for a moment to pull your straps from your shoulders and work your dress down to expose your tits, and then he’s on you again. Teasing and stroking and pinching, your hand gripping his forearms as you huff and whimper, caged between him and the table. You moan his name, bleeding every once of want you feel into it, hoping he can hear just by the sound of your voice how wet you are for him.  

‘Dreamt about ya last night,’ he rasps in your ear, and you flash him a dazzling, breathless smile.

‘Oh yeah? ‘N what’d ya dream about, cowboy?’

You whine as he crowds you, leaning down to suck another bruise into the junction between your neck and shoulders, whiskers bristling against your skin, hands hot and heavy everywhere they can find purchase.

‘Much rather show you,’ he rumbles.

You nip your bottom lip between your teeth, shooting him a wicked look over your shoulder. His eyes crinkle, and as he spins you to face him again, he moves to pinch your jaw, just rough enough to curb your inevitable wise ass response. He watches as your eyes glaze a little, soft slump of your shoulders as he gives your head a little shake. His cock is achingly hard.

‘Upstairs. Now,’

As soon as he backs away from you, you’re sprinting towards the stairs with a shriek. Joel is close behind, and you can feel the heat of him, enough to set your heart galloping in your chest. Something primal urging space between you, something base wishing there was none.

You clatter through his bedroom door, whirling to face him - bare chest heaving, lips curled. He pauses in the doorway - so tall and broad, so imposing - shoulders straining against his t-shirt, curls frayed from your hands. He steps in, swings the door shut behind him, and then he’s closing the space easily - one, two, three - gathering you in his arms until you’re on tiptoes, pawing at the flesh of your ass through your sundress. Obsessed with it. You on him, him on you.

He needs this like air.

His breath is hot against your lips, mouth needy and wet as you open yourself to him. He licks into your mouth, kissing you like it’s something you need to take from him, like there’s something you need to understand through the action alone. He fiddles with the flimsy material of your half-removed sundress, pulling at it a little.

‘Take this off,’ he growls, nipping at your lips. 

You step back from him as you push it past your hips, the fabric pooling to the floor in seconds, leaving you in your panties. He bites his lip, murmuring a fuck before stripping himself of his t-shirt. Glorious tan chest, slightly lighter than his strong arms, shoulders seeming even broader, smattering of hair that leads down past his navel, his smooth belly, the constellations of freckles that join beneath your fingertips.

You busy your fingers with his belt as he cups your face once more, pressing kisses to your hairline, your forehead, your cheekbones. You’re giggling, trying to see what you’re doing through the blur of his face and hands, but then his palms are moving lower, groping at your breasts again, swiping his thumbs against your taught nipples, groaning against your mouth as you dip your hand past his unfastened belt and fly, into his boxers to cup his silken skin.

‘How’d that dream go again?’

Joel smiles against your mouth, giving a harsh twist to each peaked bud before beginning to push his jeans further down.

‘Kneel,’ he commands.

You drop to your knees in one swift motion, biting your lip at him as he whips his belt from its loops and throws it to the corner of the room. Your eager fingers curl under the waistband of his jeans, inching them and his underwear down. 

‘Don’t know how you’re wearing jeans in this weather -’

‘Cos I knew you’d be here some point to take ‘em off me,’

You smirk, blinking up at him through your eyelashes.

‘Who, me? I don’t know what kind of girl you take me for, daddy, but…’ You’re chewing your cheek to try and temper your look of amusement, but Joel gives in immediately. Goofy smile, all teeth, eyes crinkling at the edges. He cups your jaw as you wrap your hand around his base, pulling him out of his underwear, soft black material barely holding him in. 

His body moves with the first pump of your tight fist, the swirl of your thumb when you reach the head, spreading the pearl of precum beading there as he hisses. Thick and pulsing in your hand, velvety smooth, you trace its lines, veins with a delicate finger, press a kiss to his tip. Joel’s nostrils flare.

‘So pretty,’ you murmur, and that smirk tugs at his lips again.

‘I say you could touch it?’

You roll your eyes, quirking your head at him.

‘Didn’t think you had to,’ you shrug, ‘Kinda comes with the territory of tellin’ me to get on my knees -’

He scoffs.

‘Alright, smart ass,’ tangling his fingers in your hair, ‘Make me proud.’

You smile broadly, before inching closer, moving your mouth with your hand to chase down his length. You always know how to shut him up, and right now, the sight, the sound, the feel of you taking him all on the first try makes him fucking dizzy.

Hot and wet, the ridges of the roof of your mouth like satin around his cock, jumping as it hits the back of your throat and further, twitching again as you hum around him, opening your eyes - doe-like, watering already, the pinch in your brows telling him what you need to hear.

‘Good girl,’ he groans, ‘Good fucking girl,’

It’s the encouragement you need, moaning again as you pull back to the tip, taking him back in again as you bring one hand up to scratch at his thigh, the other moving from his length to his balls, cupping them softly, squeezing, rolling, and he’s on fucking fire. If there was ever a chance he was going to hell before, he’s sure the way you make him feel will send him there regardless.

You’re taking it slow, steady, making him feel every inch of your mouth as you moan and breathe, so intense that he can feel his tip heating - a kind of overstimulation - as he lets little moans slip more freely from his lips. Sighs and mutterings, breathless praise, wrecked groans as you start to move faster, jaw falling open. A steady stream of salt on your tongue, the taste making you keen for him, press your nose to the skin above his cock, making you forget anything outside the taste of him in your mouth. The hand on his thigh moving to work his length as you pay special attention to his head, your hips bucking unconsciously. His stomach jumps, lungs heaving as he massages your crown, as you kitten lick and swirl your tongue down the vein on the underside, rewarded with a sharp, wanton gasp as you pull back to slap him against your tongue. 

You watch as his pink tip flushes a darker shade, as it dribbles even more, feeling him jerk in your hand. Spellbound, slack-jawed at the way you take him, at the way you want him, like the taste and the pressure is never enough. How you always need more, more, more, and he’s getting closer, closer, closer -

He pulls you off with a deep, guttural groan - missing your mouth the minute it’s gone, resisting the temptation to shove himself back past your lips and come down your throat. 

You gaze up at him, pouting, straining against the hand in your hair. 

‘What? Didn’t I make you proud, cowboy?’

He tightens his grip, tips your head further to meet his gaze.

‘Bed,’ he commands, relinquishing his hold, ridding himself of his remaining clothes as you do yours, clambering up onto his bed, settling yourself on your knees again, wiggling side to side, your wide eyes rapt, wired. Chin wet, chest heaving, fingers twitching in your lap, he makes his decision almost instantly. Steps forwards, fingers brushing against the inside of your knee. Your legs part automatically, and he follows the contour of soft skin in the inside of your thighs right to the very top, no grace in the way he swipes his fingers through your folds, collecting the wetness there. And there’s so much of it, so much you feel proud of the way his eyes darken when he feels it.

‘What’s this, baby?’ He coos, repeating the motion as you whimper, as your shoulders hunch and your chin tips down. He lifts it with a finger and thumb, before cupping your face. You nuzzle into the touch, eyes hungry. ‘Oh, pretty girl,’ he murmurs, smiling again, ‘This happen while you were down on your knees sucking daddy’s cock?’

You snort softly, forehead knocking against his as he crowds closer.

‘Fucker-’ you start, but it’s cut off by your gasp as he easily slips in two thick fingers. He tuts.

‘Try again,’

‘Yes,’ you whisper, ‘Fuck yes, it did,’

He kisses your nose, pumping the digits slowly.

‘Gonna have to do something about that then, aren’t we?’

‘Please,’ you breathe, and he removes his fingers, slipping them into his mouth with another groan, tasting you - fuck. 

‘Hands and knees, baby,’ he says roughly, and you obey.

He pushes you forward so your chest is pressed into the sheets, nipples catching on the fabric, sweat soaking, cooling against the bed. Your breath catches in your throat - good girl, like this - and he’s pulling your hips up towards him, gripping the flesh at the backs of your thighs to spread you. Your knees slide, pliant with the need that scorches through you, and you press your cheek into the duvet, trying to angle your head so you can watch him watching you. 

And fuck, is he watching you. Eyes blown, lips bitten, a depraved intensity settling in the way his jaw flexes. You bunch your hands into fists on the cotton, shuddering as his palms run over your curves - hips, waist, hips, ass, thighs - before they stop, parting you for him again. You can’t help the way you present yourself to him, the way your hips tilt when air meets your bare cunt.

‘Atta girl,’ he mumbles, ‘Look at all that. You makin’ a mess f’me, baby? This pretty little pussy achin’ for what I wanna give her?’

You muffle your response, so fucking desperate, against his sheets, clutching the material tighter. He swipes both his thumbs through your folds, tracing the seam of your cunt, spreading the slick there to shine against your skin, teasing one digit at the entrance of your hole, the other inching its way - agonisingly - towards your clit. You throb, and he watches a bead of slick dribble down your folds, grinding himself against the bed as his cock jumps.

‘Is she, baby?’

You gasp, turning your head to him again. His eyes meet yours, dark, burning.

‘Yes,’ you half-moan, half-sob.

He hums in response, before turning back to your spread cunt. The thumb making its way towards your clit disappears, and you scrunch your brows together in disapproval, mouth working around a strangled please- before the sensation is replaced by his warm breath, then his firm tongue as he licks you from your clit to your hole. 

The cry that forces its way past your lips is strangled, choked, stuck in your throat as you clench around nothing at the contact.

‘Oh, fuck -’

And he chuckles against you, at the way your legs almost give out, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs in an effort to hold you upright. You squeeze your eyes closed as he licks further - Joel, fuck - seeking your clit again, pulling it between his lips, dragging his face against you, like he needs it, like he can’t be apart from you.

He sucks a little harsher, and at the very same time, you feel the tip of his nose edge against your cunt. You moan, a fractured sound, and he pulls you towards him again, pressing the curve of it further inside, moving his tongue in circles. You’re seeing fucking stars.

Breath shuddering out of you in high pitched gasps, toes curling against the pressure that builds so quickly already in your gut, unable to move, to find any relief as he mouths at you - ravenous, cramming his face, his fucking nose, as far into you as he can, slurping and sucking, letting his teeth graze you gently when you try to protest - too much, close Joel, ‘m close, fuck -

He pulls back just as suddenly as he came near, swatting your ass quickly, once, twice, before leaning back in. You barely have time to register the sting, how it flares goosebumps up your back, what it means, drunk on the feel of his mouth on you. He begins the same onslaught, sucking, licking, groaning at your taste before the knot tightens again.

‘Yes, please, Joel, please -’

But he’s gone again, that same firm hand landing on your backside as he pushes himself up, loosening his arms from their vice grip on your thighs. 

‘Not yet,’ he rasps, ‘Not yet, gonna come on my cock, yeah? Get it nice and wet, show me how much you like it?’

You rock your forehead against his mattress, waves of pleasure rolling through you, cunt fluttering, still so exposed to him. You take too long to answer, moaning loudly as he taps his palm against your soaked folds. You jolt, hips moving instinctively, finding nothing. You shudder a breath.

‘Yes, wanna come on your cock, I need it daddy. Need you inside me, need you to fuck me, need to come, Joel, please -’

He pulls you by the hips to the edge of the bed again, one palm kneading the flesh there, the other sliding three fingers through your arousal, bringing the wetness to his cock, slicking himself up. You raise yourself up on your elbows, looking back at him, and Joel's heart almost gives out. That perfect little pout, the sweat dripping down your forehead, the bead of it that travels down the valley of your spine, shining against your skin. Every inch of you so perfect, glossy in the heat, his. The patch he loves so much at the bottom of your back, just before the swell of your ass, even better, impossibly, from this angle. 

He holds you still with the grip on your hip as he nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance, and your breath stills in your lungs. That first press, the pressure, the beginning of the stretch, the way you contract around the promise of it, waiting, waiting -

Waiting.

Joel smiles, though you can’t see it. His body pulled taught, barely resisting the urge to push himself further into you. 

‘Go on, pretty girl,’ he says, ‘Wanna see you fuck yourself on it. Show me how bad you need it,’

You hear his breath catch the moment you begin to slide down, and then the room is silent, save for the buzzing of his fans and the sticky sound of you pulling him inside. When you reach his base, nestling against the hair there, you both let out an honest, drawn out groan of relief. You’re so full of him, the stretch welcome, pressing against a sweet spot deep inside you, just enough to leave you breathless. You can feel him pulse in time with your heartbeat, feel yourself grow wetter, begin to drip down your thighs as you breathe heavily, as his grip grows firmer, as his fingers slide to the crease between your thighs and your stomach.

‘Move, baby,’ he pleads, sounding just as wrecked as you feel.

So you do. Slow, methodical, so you can feel all of him. Every inch, every vein that makes you clench around him, that makes him groan low in his throat. You know he wants it faster, that this time he wants more, but you’re too busy indulging yourself, focused on the drag of him against your walls, showing him how he takes care of you, making sure he watches how he fills you, how well you take him. 

When the pressure begins to grow, when he coos at you a little more, you move with more force, fucking yourself back, your noises coming louder, higher pitched, while his grow lower, as he babbles to you more and more. 

‘Fuck, look at you, baby. Look at you. Take me so good, take me so deep. Perfect pussy, made f’me, ain’t she? So pretty baby, so pretty the way you stretch, feel so good, so good, darlin’, fuck -’

He’s almost too caught up in the way your ass recoils against his thighs, the way your pussy moulds itself to him, that he misses the tell tale signs of you about to come. The way you gasp, the way you tighten and throb, the way you fist the sheets around you, the way your body begins to lock up -

‘No. Not yet,’ he grits out, pulling his hips back, pulse pounding in his ears as he watches your body try to chase his before he grips you again, turning you onto your back.

You’re sobbing around your plea - please Joel, been so good, just wanna come around you, please baby - but he’s steadfast.

He wants to see your face when you let go. Wants to watch your eyes roll, wants to watch you arch, wants to see the way your stomach lurches -

You scrabble for him, slurring your words, so fucked out - please Joel please, please baby, god, I just need - as he arranges your legs so your knees are bent, so your pretty little pussy is exposed completely to him - need you, please fuck me - before he swipes his thumb against your clit again, just to hear your broken whine, the hiccuped sigh, the way your body twitches, so close.

He pauses, holds your thighs wide open before him, towering above you. You reach to skate a hand up his tan belly, fingers scraping through the hair there, the muscled lines leading down to his cock, enjoying the thrum of his heart beating through his skin before he knocks it aside, pursing his lips and spitting straight onto where you are connected.

It turns you half-feral, rearing up towards him as he speaks.

‘There we go, baby. This what we need,’

The first thrust in takes your breath away. 

And he doesn’t give you any chance to get it back.

He sets a punishing pace, feeding you his cock with dogged precision, consumed by how you look spread beneath him, with how puffy and slick and shiny your pussy is, how it splits around him. 

Thick heft of him sawing in and out, the way you clutch at him, sucking him back in, tighter and tighter each time, like your body is already missing him. So wet slick is smeared around your thighs, soaking Joel’s lap, leaking down into the cleft of your ass. He kisses you, slow and deep, gasping and panting against your lips. Guttural moans from him, needy little whimpers from you, the sloppy sound of pleasure. 

He breaks away from you when the kisses are splintered by gasps of air, fixing his mouth to your neck, inhaling deeply there, pressing his lips to your shoulder, lower, the top of your breast, your sternum, before closing them around your nipple. You keen as he scrapes his teeth over the sensitive bud, hands flying from his flexing forearms to his hair, scratching his scalp, moaning his name, chanting it - Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel.

He sucks harder, tongue working around the flesh before he does the same to your other breast, fingers slipping down over the damp skin of your belly towards your sex, seeking that last nudge you need to send you flying over the edge.

Tighter, wetter, arching to meet his mouth as you gasp and plead - gonna come Joel, gonna come, please can I come, please, please -

You barely register his nod against your chest, barely hear him gasp ‘Give it to me baby, good girl, that’s it,’ before the flood overwhelms you, clawing through your body, ripping through you like flame. Your body tenses, jerks, hips stuttering against him, pussy throbbing as you cry out, pleasure flushing through you all the way to the top of your head. Aftershocks flare like fireworks behind your eyelids, hips moving frantically with his to chase the very end of your orgasm.

Joel watches, chest hot, stomach tightening with that tell tale taughtness - oh, shit baby, yeah, s'that good? - before his own eyes squeeze shut, his body faltering, pushing all the way up against your cervix as he pulses inside you, filling you with warmth, spilling himself until it begins to leak between your thighs.

He gives a couple of softer thrusts before he groans again, hearing you whimper, ears ringing, pulling out just to watch himself drip out of you. The sight makes him greedy, makes him press it back into you even as you hiss in protest, too sensitive. He looks up just as you crack an eye open, an arm swinging across your forehead.

‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ you mumble, a smile growing before he breathes a shy laugh at the ceiling. He loves the sound of your giggle as you watch him.

He crawls back up your body, ignoring how the heat begins to creep back in, become formidable again. He presses kisses to your collarbones, your neck, your cheeks, and you thread your spare hand back through his hair, enjoying the way it looks, mussed by you.

His sweaty forehead presses against your sternum, laving affectionate, wet kisses there as you come down from your highs, panting in the warm air of the room. 

You continue to card your fingers through his damp curls, staring up at the ceiling fan as it whirs and spins above you. Your eyes flutter closed, content.

‘You’ll have to get Sarah from school soon,’

He grunts in acknowledgement, nuzzling into your ribcage, licking at the salty skin before nipping it between his teeth. You giggle, body lurching away slightly before it’s fixed in place by his wide palms at your hips. ‘And I have to be home before four,’

He groans, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast.

‘Come over for dinner,’ he murmurs, ‘Tell your dad we're hangin’ out, gettin’ to know each other. I’ll grill some stuff. You bring some more of those popsicles,’ 

You snort at him, huffing something about how nothing will get grilled if you’re watchin’ me suck on a popsicle, even as your chest and cheeks heat, before he slumps on top of you, plush lips crushing against yours in a searing kiss, tongue licking into your mouth, setting you ablaze again beneath him. You moan as he moves to your neck, sucking and biting and bruising.

‘Come,’ he groans into your skin, ‘Promise you’ll come. I'll make it worth your while,’

You offer him a breathy laugh, a sure at the double entendre with sparkling eyes. Your back arches, hands gripping his biceps as he languidly moves lower, taking your nipple in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the raw bud, grazing it with his teeth before sucking gently.

‘Joel -’ you gasp, clenching your thighs together as you wriggle beneath him, meeting his warm brown eyes as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. ‘We need to -’

He cuts you off with a sharp nip at the puckered flesh. He turns his head to the side, checks the watch he’s still wearing, and fixes you with a dark, hungry look.

‘Reckon there’s time to go again.’

[roosterforme]

Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"

"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.

"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."

"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.

"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."

He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."

"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"

"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 

"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"

"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.

"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 

When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."

"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"

Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."

Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 

"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."

"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"

"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.

"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.

"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."

A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.

You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."

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

I'll let you know if I need you.

Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.

So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 

It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.

"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.

"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 

She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."

Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.

"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."

When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"

He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.

"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."

When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."

He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"

She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."

"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."

He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"

"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."

He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"

Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 

He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he waited in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.

Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.

"Hey, are you Bradley?"

He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.

"Julian?"

"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."

Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."

Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."

"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"

Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 

"What's it say?"

He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 

"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."

"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."

"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."

"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."

Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 

"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."

When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"

"Good luck!"

The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.

"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 

"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"

"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."

"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.

"No. They left about an hour ago."

"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"

Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"

"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.

"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."

Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."

"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"

"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."

"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."

Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 

"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 

That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.

"You got this!"

Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.

"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 

Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 

"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."

"No ID, no entrance."

"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.

"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 

She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."

"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."

"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."

Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"

Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."

"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."

She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."

Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."

"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"

"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."

Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.

"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."

Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.

"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 

"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.

"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."

"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 

"She's not here?"

"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.

"Well, where are we going next?"

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."

"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.

It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.

"Yeah, you're right, Julian."

"About what, my man?"

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."

Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."

But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 

He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.

Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.

When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"

"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.

"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"

Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."

But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."

He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."

Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."

He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"

With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.

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

There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.

"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 

As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.

"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."

When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."

You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.

He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."

"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."

He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.

"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"You really don't remember?"

Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.

"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.

"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"

"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"

He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."

"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 

"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 

You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"

He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 

"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.

"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.

"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.

"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."

"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."

As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."

"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.

"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."

He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."

"Is it really so bad that I do?"

His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."

"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."

You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."

Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.

"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."

But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.

This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"

"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"

"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."

"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."

You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.

"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."

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

He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart | part one

after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this word count: 2.47k a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!

“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.

Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”

She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”

JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.

You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”

Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.

You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”

The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.

There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.

Someone was bound to snap.

Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.

As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”

Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”

You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”

He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”

You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”

“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”

Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.

You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”

The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.

Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.

You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.

She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”

Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”

Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.

You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.

Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.

White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.

“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”

She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”

You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”

“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.

JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.

Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.

Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”

“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”

Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”

Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”

“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.

You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.

He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”

“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.

Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”

You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.

Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”

“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”

The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.

You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”

She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”

Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.

“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.

You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”

With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.

A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.

The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.

He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.

Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”

[peachsukii]

✮ content. pro-hero!bakugo x pro-hero fem!reader. late 20 somethings + married w/ a toddler. family fluff while he’s away on a mission. slightly suggestive (aka Katsuki’s down bad for his wife). ;)

“Momma!” Your daughter shouts from the living room, the little pitter patters of her feet echoing down the hall as she sprints toward you with glee. “Phone’s ringing, pick it up, please!”

Her small hands shove the phone against your thigh, bouncing up and down in place with excitement. You tuck the folded towel in your arms into the closet and bend down to her level. When you take the phone from her, your husband’s name —💥Katsuki 👑💕— is displayed across the screen, accompanied by a photo of the three of you on your last beach trip. Clicking the “Accept” button, the visual of Katsuki in his hero costume appears, his attention focused on removing his gloves while waiting for you to answer.

“Hey handsome,” you greet, heart swelling when you catch him smirk at the compliment. “Someone’s been waiting for you to call.”

“An’ where’s my little girl at?”

Your daughter hops into view, jumping up and down with her hands waving frantically.

“Hi Daddy!” She giggles, dancing back and forth on her tip toes. “Did ya beat up the bad guys today?”

Katsuki laughs heartily, finally sitting on the bed in his hotel room. “Sure did. I’m keepin’ you and Momma safe. How’s school goin’?”

“S’good! I got a gold star today for my drawing.”

“Yeah? Proud of you, sweetheart. Can’t wait for ya to show me when I come home.”

The time on your phone reads 7:30PM, and like clockwork, your daughter begins to stretch, yawning the same way Katsuki does when he’s exhausted after a long shift.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed, sweetie?” You suggest while rubbing her back. “I know you’re tired.”

“Okaaay,” she pouts, trying to fight off her sudden sleepiness. “G’night Daddy. I miss you!”

“Only two more days. Love an’ miss you, Princess. Sweet dreams.”

With a wave and a smile, she trots off toward her bedroom to change into her PJs, leaving you with a few minutes to talk with Katsuki before tucking her into bed. You walk back into your joint bedroom, leaving the door cracked as you lay on the bed. Katsuki does the same, shifting the camera to follow his movements as he stretches out across the sheets.

“Goddamn, I miss you somethin’ fierce,” he admits, sighing into his forearm as it crosses his face to hide the soft dusting of pink on his cheeks. “You put a spell on me or some shit?”

“Not this time,” you chuckle, feet swaying in the air behind you like a giddy schoolgirl. “I miss you, too. How was your day?”

“S’alright, nothin’ crazy. Can’t wait’ta be back home, sleepin’ alone sucks.”

“Yeah, the bed is cold without you.”

There’s a short lull in the conversation before it shifts into something more sensually charged. Katsuki tends to get clingier the longer he’s stationed away from home — all the telltale signs of it are reflecting in his eyes through the camera, sparkling under the dim moonlight from his hotel room window.

“Good thing I know how to keep ya warm,” he purrs with a wink, the mischievous grin stretched over his lips telling you how he’s truly feeling. “S’how you got knocked up the first time.”

There it is, that familiar warmth flooding into your belly and heat spreading from your ears to your toes.

“Kaaats!” you whine, shyly tucking your head into your chest. “Shut up.”

“Don’t get shy on me now, Peaches,” he teases, laughing quietly at your bashfulness. “S’cute how easy ya are to rile up.”

You wave him off and roll your eyes lovingly. “I should go put her to bed. Are you gonna be up in an hour?”

His brow furrows curiously. “Prob’ly. Why?”

“Gives me time to get her settled, put away the laundry and finish the dishes. Up for a little late night date?”

Oh, Katsuki knows exactly what that means. Why was the thought of watching you doing chores around the house and taking care of your daughter making him suddenly break out in a sweat?

“Earth to Katsuki?” You call again and recollect his attention. “If you’re too tired—”

“Never too tired for you, baby. Go do what ya gotta do, I’ll be waitin’.”

“Okay, I love you!” You sweetly sing as you roll off the bed. “Get comfy, bye babe.”

“Love you too, Peach. See ya.”

The “End Call” screen flashes briefly in front of Katsuki’s eyes, the darkness of the hotel room returning once the screen dims into nothingness. He mumbles a breathless ‘fuck’ into the air before jumping off the bed to stomp toward the bathroom.

Only you can leave him hanging by a thread on simple promises, even when he’s miles away. And damn, did he love it.