#not my fault that they suit her so well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coquettepascal · 4 months ago

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texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying.

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes.

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones.

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does.

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you.

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to.

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job.

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together.

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point.

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there.

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats.

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute?

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel.

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable.

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing.

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird.

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone.

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars.

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice.

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath.

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes.

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer.

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him.

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself.

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years.

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing.

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly.

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this.

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks.

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock.

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him.

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?”

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either.

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers.

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering.

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay.

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you.

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough.

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.”

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out.

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #hbo!joel #neighbor!joel #tlou fanfiction #dilf!joel #reader insert #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller smut

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pathologicalreid · 4 months ago

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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

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?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #jennifer jareau #jareau!reader #written by margot #ffofa

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sapphire-writes · 6 months ago

Text

the winner takes it all

Art x Reader x Tashi

summary: winners deserve rewards, and Tashi is more than happy to spoil her star athlete with the help of her ever-dutiful husband.

word count: 2.7k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: porn no plot (deep breath) m/f/f dynamic, threesome, dom!Tashi, switch!Art, sub!Reader, p in v, creampie, overstim, hair pulling, titty play, use of toys, praise, teasing, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (fem receiving), oral (reader giving fem), face sitting

note: hope you enjoy! my first non-HOTD related fic!

link to other stories from me!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 💙

Your match had taken place several hours ago. You’d been anxious the entire time, but ended up winning, much to you and your coach’s pleasure. The ride back to the hotel was torturous, as well as the following mandatory ice bath, sauna, shower, and footage review. It was the routine you’d followed ever since Tashi began coaching you.

She was nothing if not thorough.

After tying up several loose ends, including Tashi grilling you for every point you missed, every fault she could see when she paused the footage, you now found yourself in a more pleasurable position.

Art held your legs open as he continued his even thrusts, cock sliding against the walls of your pussy at a torturous pace. Tashi sat beside you, clad only in a silk robe and lace panties, brushing some hair from your face that was sticking to your forehead with perspiration.

You had the suite to yourself for the night. Tashi and Art’s little girl was safely tucked away with her grandmother in another elegant suite on the other side of the hotel. Another part of the routine.

“Tash….”

“You did well out there today,” she interrupts, reaching beside her to the end table drawer and pulling out her Hitachi wand. It buzzes to life as she turns it on and a strangled whine leaves your throat as she presses it to your clit, “See what happens when you put in the extra time? That backhand of yours is a lethal weapon now.”

“Fuck!” is the only response you’re able to give as Art moans at the vibrations as he continues to pound into you.

She likes you best like this, fucked dumb on Art’s cock, mindlessly agreeing to her plans for future matches, eyes rolling back in your head. Different moves she’ll have you practice. How hard she plans to work you on the court the following morning.

“Come on, come for me,” Tashi insists, hand trailing over your breasts, “What’s my girl need to come, hm? Need these pretty tits attended to?” She pinches your nipple for emphasis and your jaw slacks, a pleasurable current in your gut winding tighter and tighter with the continuous stimulation.

Art slings your left leg over his shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to your calf as he does so.

The new angle sends him deeper inside of you and you clench, mouth falling open with an uncontrollable moan.

“That’s it,” Tashi murmurs, eyes never leaving your face, “Feels so good doesn’t it? Art knows how to treat his girl, huh? Don’t you baby?”

“Yes,” he hissed between clenched teeth, beads of sweat forming on his brow, “Fucking perfect pussy, god—”

Tashi removes her hand from your breast, taking hold of your chin.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes water with pleasurable tears but you do as she asks, always keen to follow her instructions. The tennis court, the bedroom, it was all the same playing field in the end.

“Come on baby,” she murmurs, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your lips, “Come for me, you’ve been such a good girl, you deserve it.”

“Fuck!” Art courses as your pussy tightens around him, “Oh uhhh—”

“I’m cumming,” you helplessly whimper, the words nearly a sob, “Tashi…..fuck….Art fuck feels so—-“ your abdominal muscles tense as your reach your peak, white-hot ecstasy flooding your body as a shudder rolls through you.

Tashi smiles as you come, fingers dancing down your neck. Art fucks you through it, leaning forward to pound into you at a harder rhythm, chasing his imminent release. It’s only then Tashi glances at him, her smile dropping slightly.

“Don’t cum.”

Art’s hips stutter as your walls continue to flutter around his thick length, his jaw slacks, eyes watering as he looks at his wife.

“Tash—”

“I said no,” she insists, shutting off the vibrator and throwing it to the side. Leaning forward, she captures your lips in a kiss. She sits up, a smile on her face as she kisses Art as well. He whimpers against her lips, hard and pulsating inside you still. But Tashi never changes her mind.

“You want to come, you should try winning.”

“Tash please,” Art’s voice was strained, Adam’s apple bobbing, his expression pained, “please let me come.”

“Yeah?” She taunts moving up to kiss him. She brings her lips close to his, his eyes fluttering shut as she barely brushes the soft pout of her mouth against his. His lips part, head tilting to chase her.

You watch from below them, still trying to slow your breathing. You like watching them dance, this push and pull they have. It’s hypnotizing, the effect she has on him. On you. Tashi pushes his chest and his eyes flutter open.

“Sit.”

Tashi nods to the chair in the corner of the room. Art hesitates and she raises a brow when he doesn’t move quickly enough. Teeth clenched, Art unsheathes his aching cock from your warmth, hissing as he pulls completely out. Your breath hitches at the loss of him, and you gaze up at Tashi waiting for her next instruction.

Fully naked, Art walks to the chair, cock hard and swinging between his legs as though he’s nothing more than a scolded pup.

Tashi stands walking over to him, and Art tilts his chin to meet her eyes. Slowly, she lets the silk robe fall from her shoulders, and she takes her time removing it and placing it on his lap. You can see his erection through the soft purple fabric.

“Hold that for me, would you?” she asks, turning back to face you.

You can’t help it as your gaze falls to her breasts; supple and mouth-watering, dark nipples taunting you. The dip of flesh between her abdominal muscles, a spot you’ve run your tongue along countless times now. Tashi rejoins you on the bed, lying next to you, looping her thumbs in the waistband of her lace panties.

“You want a taste, baby?” she asks, smiling slightly at you.

You nod eagerly as she beckons you with a tilt of her chin. Scrambling into a kneeling position you slot yourself between Tashi’s toned legs, replacing her fingers and gently pulling off her lace panties, tossing them to the side and revealing her glistening sex.

Two things turn Tashi on. Telling you and Art what to do, and tennis.

Tashi brings her hand down her front tracing down her toned stomach until she reaches the soft curls that frame her pussy. She takes two fingers and spreads herself before you.

“Come on, baby,” she murmurs, her voice low and seductive, “Eat up.”

She’s an enchantress, you swear, using some sort of siren song to pull you in. Even here between her legs, she’s in charge; it’s you who’s helpless. You lower your face toward her pussy, already drunk on the scent of her even before your tongue reaches her warm slit.

You couldn’t hold in your moan of pleasured relief even if you tried as your tongue dipped lower, parting her lips and dipping inside her right entrance. There’s something about her, how she feels, how she tastes. You’ll never get enough of it. You nuzzle closer to her, nose bumping against her clit and she rewards you with a breathy sigh.

“Art,” she calls as you eagerly continue lavishing her pussy with attention, “How’s the view?”

“Fucking breathtaking,” he answered, his voice strangled, “Tashi please….”

“She’s so good,” Tashi praises, nails taking against your scalp sending pleasurable tingles down your spine, “Put that pretty mouth of yours where it counts. Show me how badly you want it.”

Your tummy flutters with excitement and you suction your lips around Tashi’s clit, sucking the sensitive button as you hear Art stand up.

“Put that ass up,” Tashi instructs you, her voice airy, nearly breathless. You arch your back, leaning forward into her as Art’s hands cup the front of your thighs.

You wiggle as he kneels behind you, his breath on your pussy before his lips meet your pussy. You moan against Tashi’s cunt as Art trails his hands up your thighs, spreading your cheeks wider as he feasts on you, tongue dipping inside of you and then up to circle your clit.

“I’ll make you a deal baby,” Tashi purrs, back arching off the bed slightly as your tongue circles her pearl, “If you make her finish before I do, I’ll let you come.”

Art groans against you, finishing with a frustrated whine as Tashi chuckles. You glance up at her, drinking in the blissed-out expression on her face, that sly smirk that reaches her eyes.

“Deal?”

Art doesn’t hesitate, he simply redoubles his efforts, tongue entering you with desperate precision. Your lips falter, the pleasure messing with your coordination as Art ups the ante. You feel him pull away from you, and hear the wet pop of his fingers entering his mouth and leaving just as quickly. Then he’s breaching you, fingers slipping inside you with ease from the continued attention following your first orgasm.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as Art fingers you. He sets a rough pace, placing his opposite hand on your asscheek and squeezing the soft flesh.

The two fingers he has plunged inside you to the knuckle curl perfectly against your spongy walls, hitting that sweet spot inside you every time he curls his fingers.

“Come on,” Art murmurs, slapping your ass, “I know you want to come again.”

“Yes she does,” Tashi agrees, unable to help herself.

“Greedy girl, never satisfied with just one, huh?” Art teases and Tashi chuckles at his efforts. Art never speaks to her like that, only you. Tashi prefers the more dominant role over both you and her husband.

Still eager to please her you sloppily continue eating her out, lost in the sensation of Art's fingers in your pussy, Tashi’s fingers in your hair—

“Come on baby,” Art encourages, though there’s a hint of desperation in his tone. He wants to come just as badly as you do.

“Such a messy girl,” Tashi coos, propping herself on her elbows, “Oh but so so good. I’m getting close…”

Art slaps your ass again, curling his fingers against your g-spot, and it’s no use. Your jaw slacks and your head lolls against the softness of Tashi’s inner thigh as your walls clench around Art’s fingers, your release barreling through you like a freight train. It knocks the air from your lungs, a desperate cry leaving you as Art makes a noise of triumph.

“So you are capable of winning,” Tashi snaps, a little too cold to be simply a bedroom taunt. Art stares at her, before she sits up, “I haven’t come yet.”

“Let me,” you murmur, looking up at her, still lying on her thigh. She smiles down at you, stroking your cheek.

“You’re a sweet girl,” she praises, “But Art won. I think he deserves to finish in that sweet little pussy of yours. Would you like that?”

“Tash…I can’t,” you whimper, still sensitive and tingly from your previous orgasms, “I can’t come again.”

Her smile fades back to that familiar smirk. She glances at Art, nodding at the bed. Cock still standing at attention Art joins you both, lying on his back. Tashi’s hand winds its way in your hair, tugging you not so gently from your resting place. You follow her lead like a puppet on a string.

“Don’t be ungrateful,” she accuses, pushing you towards Art’s lap, “This is a reward. You deserve this.”

Art’s cock pokes at the soft plush of your inner thighs as you straddle him. His hands move automatically towards your hips, rough thumbs brushing against you leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He looks at you with wide, watery eyes, blonde hair a tousled mess.

“One more?” he asks, and you know at that moment if you tapped out, he’d respect it. Art was never one to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form.

He rubs your hips again, a soothing motion, and you lean into his touch. Something deep inside you tightens with want. You need him. You need her. You inhale a shaky breath and lift your hips, lining the swollen head of his cock with your entrance. Sinking onto him slowly like this is something else. The way he stretches your insides as you come to rest against him is a feeling you’ll never get used to.

“Good girl.”

Art’s head falls back against the pillows and then Tashi pulls them from underneath him. Her husband knows immediately what she’s after and tilts his head back as she climbs onto his face.

Tashi sits on her husband’s face as though it’s her throne. As though he was made for her and no one else.

She pulls you closer as you lazily begin to ride Art. Lips crashing against yours she kisses you passionately, rolling her hips at the pace you began. Soon you find your rhythm, moving in sync together as Art moans beneath you, happy to pleasure both his girls at once. Tashi’s hand finds your hair again and she tugs your head back, latching her lips against your neck.

She’s fond of leaving marks. Art is hers through their marriage, but she likes to remind you that you belong to her as well.

Art bucks his hips up into you, the head of his cock nudging perfectly against your sweet spot, just as his fingers had moments before. A whine leaves your lips and Tashi laughs against your neck.

“He’s good at that, yeah?” she murmurs, placing soft kisses up your neck and returning to your lips, “Good with his cock, good with his…his tongue.” Her eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy as Art does something you can only imagine.

He moans again, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he decides the pace you’ve set simply isn’t enough. Art’s hands dip below the curve of your ass right where it meets your thighs, lifting you with ease up and down on his cock. He meets you halfway, thrusting up into you as he slams you up and down.

Your whines increase in volume, turning into elongated moans swallowed by Tashi’s kiss. You can feel her nipples pressing against your own and you reach out to caress them. Tashi gyrates her hips on Art’s face and his pace becomes more frantic as he plants both feet on the mattress fucking up into you harder, faster, deeper.

“I—”

Words are lost to you as your mind goes fuzzy; that familiar pressure in your gut builds, a wave of pleasure cresting deep within you. Tashi’s mouth captures yours once more as she snakes a hand down your front, nimble fingers circling your clit giving you just what you need to reach your end. Again.

With that the rubber band in your belly snaps and you come with a startled cry, pleasured tears leaking from the corner of your eyes as you clench around Art’s thick cock. His hips falter only for a moment as he chases his own release, and soon you feel his cock twitch within your warm walls, his spend blooming inside of you.

Tashi smiles proudly as you and Art ride out your highs, the pair of you moaning, limbs jerking from the exertion. Everything’s a game to her. And she always wins.

“Just like that,” she murmurs, hips still swirling around Art’s face, “Oh god I’m—”

You watch as her thighs tense, her head dips and her eyes squeeze shut as her orgasm crashes over her at last.

Carefully you ease Art’s softening cock from within you and lay between the both of them. Tashi on your left, Art on your right. You’re facing Tashi, watching as she comes down from her high, feeling Art’s chest press against your back.

It’s quiet for a moment, the soft sound of a kiss being pressed to your shoulder the only noise in the room. Art snakes a hand around your waist, fingers brushing the soft skin of your tummy. You giggle slightly at the ticklish sensation which causes him to bite down gently on your shoulder. Tashi simply watches, wetting her lips.

“On the courts at five tomorrow,” she says, before standing, “I’ll run us a bath.”

Art sighs and you can’t help but agree with his subtle frustration. Back to business.

“Whatever you say, coach.”

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected 🩵

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thesummerpetrichor · 2 months ago

Text

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂

Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!

Masterlist

You rich and I'm wishin', um

You could be my mister, yum

Delicious to the maximum

Chew you up like bubble gum

You love me, he wants me

I think I want you too

Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness.

The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed.

Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being.

How thoughtful.

Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering.

You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser.

After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over.

For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through.

Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting.

What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws.

That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law.

Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust.

Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family.

Fucking pathetic.

But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.

“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock.

Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot.

You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.”

“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive.

The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting.

Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now.

Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it..

“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on.

“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot.

“Yes daddy, please..”

Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.”

With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you.

As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane.

“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you.

“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down.

“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son.

He’s nothing like his son.

“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence.

“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.”

What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more.

“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?”

“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?”

“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?”

His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high.

You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation.

“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.”

Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s.

With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head.

“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..”

Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down.

You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again.

Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him.

“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod.

“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights.

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

I'm neon phosphorescent

Open like a Christmas present, oh

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

If you're seeking heaven

Then you wanna come and get it alright

Be my daddy tonight

What's up what's up

Be my daddy be my daddy

Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight

AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing

thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k

Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated.

You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong.

"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks.

Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach.

"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong."

"I'm just trying to figure something out."

This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance.

You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein.

He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?"

That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop.

"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something.

"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention."

He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights.

Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done?

You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time.

I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again.

You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears.

This is all so messy, and it's your fault.

I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me.

You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid.

—

The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help.

"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go."

He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention.

Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up.

He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell.

Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you.

"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it."

Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry."

Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel.

Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug.

He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes

He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon.

His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two.

"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset "

"I'm an idiot–"

"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"

"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–"

"I shouldn't have–"

"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away.

Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up."

He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into?

"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me."

Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says.

"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile.

"It's not okay."

"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even."

"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked."

"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?"

"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back."

You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better."

"I know." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you."

What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful.

"Does it look really bad?"

"N–no. You look really pretty," he says.

"Are my eyes puffy?"

A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already."

"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to."

Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid."

"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask.

Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not."

You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure."

"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."

"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want."

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks.

You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it.

"That feels nice," you mumble.

He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?"

"Don't," you warn.

He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?"

"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it.

"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry."

Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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no-144444 · 3 months ago

Text

the grid: complimenting you!

featuring: Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris

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

Oscar Piastri

Oscar turned the corner into your shared bedroom, and he was worried. It was the first time you’d spent with your estranged sister in years, and he couldn’t even be there. Stupid media days and their awful timing.

There he found you, teary-eyed, and tired on your bed, still in the dress you changed into mere hours ago. He dropped his bag at the door and walked over to you, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“What happened?” he whispered, gently brushing your cheek.

You didn’t answer, just shook your head as your eyes welled with tears. You were willing yourself not to cry again. You’d cried so much in the 30 minutes you’d been home that you’d thought crying more wasn’t possible, then Oscar came in with all the care and comfort in the world and that made you want to cry even more.

He sighed, dropping his hand. “We don’t need to talk,” he whispered. “I’ll run us a bath.”

He left you to regulate yourself again, running a bath in your en suite. He came back, walked you in, slipped your dress off of you and led you into the bath, before doing the same to himself. He sat behind you, gently shampooing your hair just how you like it, softly speaking as he spoke about his day.

“Then Lando decided it would be a fucking brilliant idea to hide my shoes around HQ,” he chuckled softly, pressing kisses on your neck as you hummed along. This was what you needed. You needed him. After your bath, he got you both dressed and into bed, his arms around you before you started talking.

“Nothing’s changed,” you mumbled into his neck.

“Pardon?” he whispered.

“Nothing’s changed, since we were kids. She was still the same bully. It’s pathetic really, but I really thought she’d turned a new leaf and wanted to reconnect,” you scoffed. “Silly, I know-”

“That’s not silly, it was hope,” he smiled. “And it’s not your fault that she’s an awful person. That’s not on you. You’re, frustratingly, just the person she’s decided to project her insecurities on, so you get the brunt of it. And that’s everything to do with her, and fuck all to do with you. You’re this incredible, funny, intelligent, talented, complex, beautiful, interesting woman, and you’re strong. So much stronger than the 11 year old she’s used to. She’s pathetic, and she needs to realise that you being brilliant shouldn’t take away from whatever she has going for her, but she can’t. And I’m so sorry that she upsets you, I just need you to know how fucking amazing you are, and how wrong she is about you.”

You hugged him closer. “Thank you Oscar, I love you.”

“I love you so much,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

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

Charles Leclerc

Charles was no stranger to complimenting you at all. He rather enjoyed the way you reacted when he complimented you. Sometimes you smiled, sometimes you laughed, sometimes you rolled your eyes, and sometimes you moaned-

Anyways, you and Charles had been going out for about 2 years at this point, and the entire world was none the wiser. To them, you were just Carlos’s girlfriend’s friend. That’s all you’d ever be, them at least. You got to enjoy the perks of celebrity status, without ever having to compromise your privacy, it was the dream. Sometimes it sucked when you got random videos of random girls on your instagram feed claiming to be with Charles, or claiming that he was with so and so, but you knew it was the sacrifice you needed to make to continue your relationship, and keep your privacy.

Charles on the other hand, would scream the fact that you were his girlfriend for all to hear if he could. He was obsessed with you. When you’re in the Ferrari garage, he’s constantly trying to touch you, constantly looking at you, constantly winking at you, everything is about you. Most of the time you have to remind him that you’re not dating publicly. Any time you try to remind him, he hits you with “Why don’t they find out now, mi amour?” To which you roll your eyes.

What you didn’t think he’d ever do, was post pictures of you on his instagram (face and all, not even soft launching) to his 16.5 million followers with the caption ‘ma femme’.

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

You practically ran through the Ferrari offices in Monaco, racing to get to your boyfriend and talk some sense into him. Too bad he was busy in a meeting with Fred. Kidding, you didn’t care. You knocked on the door, walked in before getting an answer, and grabbed his arm, and dragged him behind you into his own office.

“You’re crazy,” you sighed. “You’re fucking insane Charles.”

He gave you a guilty smile and a shrug, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’m so sorry my love, but I cannot not let everyone know about my most beautiful girl,” he pressed his lips to your cheek. “I don’t know what else to do-”

“You can’t sweet-talk your way out of this Charles, what the fuck am I going to do? I have to be a public figure now, I have to do-”

“You’ll do fine,” he whispered, nosing at your neck, breathing in your perfume. “You’ll be alright.”

Somehow, he made you believe him.

1,638,937 likes liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, carlosainz

ma femme

comments

arthurleclerc H20 just add water anyone? -> charlesleclerc she liked that. I did not.

alexalbon dude took hard launching to another level.

carlossainz :)

oscarpiastri wait so does that make Y/n my new mum? -> nicolepiastri Oscar?????? -> y/ny/l/n I promise he's yours :) (maybe? Charles is very attatched to you)

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

Daniel Riccardo

The FIA gala was a yearly event that you’d gotten used to attending. You were Daniel’s wife, and this year, Theo and Ellie, your twins, would finally be old enough to come with. They’d just turned 4, and you trusted them enough to behave themselves at such a public and prestigious event. The entire family was dressed to the nines, Theo and Daniel in matching black tuxedos, while Ellie wore a flowery dress, and you wore a red gown.

You held Daniel’s hand, Ellie’s hand in your other, while Theo clung to his father like his life depended on it, and you three stepped out onto the carpet, cameras flashing, reporters shouting, people walking.

After posing for a few photos, Ellie ran up to Penelope and Theo ran off with her, safely in Kelly’s hands. You waited with Daniel as he answered various reporters' questions.

“And how do you feel about your wife and family supporting you tonight?”

Daniel’s usual wide smile, somehow, got wider. He turned around and gestured for you to come over, you obliged. “It means more than anything that I have people in my corner, but especially my beautiful wife,” he pressed his lips to your cheek as you chuckled. “And my kids, of course.”

You chuckled as the camera panned to you, and Daniel couldn’t help but kiss you again.

“She’s just the best person I’ve ever met, and I’m so lucky to have her in my life,” he grinned. You continued on with the night, and when you turned to him in your hotel bed, both of you tired and weary, you smiled.

"I'm pretty luck to have you in my life too."

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

George Russell

“How did you deal with the disappointment after your disqualification, George?” Will asked, and George fought back the urge to roll his eyes, but then remembered what you’d done for him when he got home to Monaco.

He smiled. “Yeah well, I flew straight back home and kind of moped my way through the airport, but when I got home my lovely girlfriend had set up a dinner for us as a ‘consolation prize’- her words, not mine, and I think it cheered me right up.”

“So, your girlfriend is kind of like your rock?”

George nodded. “Completely. She’s supported my career from the very beginning and I’m very grateful to her for that, especially how she’s been kind enough to follow me around the world on this mad journey every year, all while still being the CEO of her own company, I mean, she’s just so hard-working and amazing, I just-” George was interrupted by Alex chuckling beside him. “Shut up Alex,” George scoffed, smiling. “I love her loads, so, yeah, she’s completely my rock and I adore her.”

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

Alex Albon

“And you have someone very special with you today, don’t you?” Jack smirked, nodding towards you off-camera.

Alex smiled, looking at you, then back to Jack. “Yes, my fiancé is here today.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Fiancé?”

“Yeah, we got engaged just during the break,” Alex explained, the biggest smile on his face.

“Congratulations!” Jack cheered, pulling Alex in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks mate,” Alex smiled.

“So, now that you’re to be wed, do you want to join the interview Y/n?” Jack chanced, knowing how notorious you were for not wanting to do interviews. It wasn’t like you were rude or anything, but this was Alex’s sport, you had your own sport (figure skating), and you answered interview questions of your own all year.

You shook your head, laughing as Jack tried to convince you to join the interview, Alex dying of laughter in the back. Eventually, you gave in, standing beside him with a big smile on your face.

“So, wedding planning?” Jack turned to you both.

“Nope, too busy focusing on the Winter Olympics,” you shot back, making Alex laugh.

“Exactly, I’ll be busy wedding planning while she’s competing this winter,” he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Part-time F1 driver, full-time wedding planner?” Jack mused. “Taking time off F1 to plan then?”

“Sounds about right for the most beautiful girl on the planet,” Alex smiled as you felt your cheeks get hot.

You somehow got through the rest of the interview without getting embarrassed by him again, but at the end he pulled you in for a kiss in front of anyone who had decided to tune into the SkySportsF1 channel at that moment.

Oh well, at least he was going to be your husband.

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

Lewis Hamilton

You smiled as he crossed the finish line, another win to add to his 105. It had been a nerve-racking race, but you’d gotten through it. You followed Toto to the pitlane, ready to greet and congratulate him. And there he was, sweaty and gross, but on the top step, where he should be. Where you knew he would be.

He ran straight over to you, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you over the barrier. You were no stranger to this, over the years he’d always lift you over the barrier to ‘kiss you properly’.

And he did that. He pressed his lips to yours as the entire Mercedes team cheered.

“You did it again,” you smiled, pulling back. “Congratulations darling.”

He smiled. “Thanks baby, I couldn't have done it without you.”

You scoffed and pushed him off, smiling. He had things to do, including the post-race interview.

“Wow Lewis, what a result! Anything special to make it just work this weekend?”

Lewis smirked at you as you shook your head, begging him not to. “I had some good news this week that made me feel pretty good.”

You rolled your eyes as the crowd went wild.

“And what would that news be?”

“I’m going to be a dad.”

The crowd didn’t shut up for about 3 minutes.

“Yeah,” Lewis continued. “My gorgeous wife is pregnant and I couldn’t be happier to have another little one of her running around. The camera panned to you and you shook your head. Lewis offered you his mic.

“You can’t charm your way out of this,” you scoffed.

“I can try,” he shrugged, pulling you into his side. “You are the most beautiful woman on the planet,” he smirked, speaking away from the mic. You rolled your eyes but smiled all the same.

He would be the death of you one of these days.

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

Max Verstappen

Max sighed at his Sim as it crashed again, not noticing you coming in the front door. “This fucking thing keeps crashing!” He complained. “It’s such bullshit.”

“Did you try the thing I told you about?” you asked, walking over and leaning down beside him.

“I did,” he lied.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re such a shit liar,” you chuckled, starting up the software cleaner to get rid of old useless files. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your arm as you fixed up his sim, completely entranced by you. The chat was going wild as they watched the sweet moment between the two of you.

You chuckled. “Hi chat,” you waved. “Max is a man-child, you’re right.”

“Hey!” he feigned annoyance as you laughed.

“I’m kidding!” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You just need me to fix everything for you, right?”

“Well why date a smart girl and not use her brains?” he complimented and you felt yourself getting shy.

“Shut up- just- your stupid game should work now!” you called after you as you walked off the kitchen.

“I love you, liefste,” he laughed.

“Fuck off!”

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

Lando Norris

“So today, we will be putting it to the test. Who is better in a kart? Me, or my F1 World Champion girlfriend?”

“I wonder,” Max chuckled from behind the screen as Lando frowned, and you struggled to keep in your laughter.

“Well, maybe you’ll win,” you offered, taking his hand.

“Oh, thanks for the pity vote,” he scoffed.

“Well, I’ve never lost,” you shrugged. To be fair, you’d had an incredible career, never dnfing, always in the top 3. You were unheard of. “Well, apart from when I lost to Max Fewtrell, our other Quadrant racer, in a race when we were kids.”

Max came on screen for a split-second, smiling about the fact that he’s the only person who’s ever beat you.

“Wait, what?” Lando exclaimed. “Max is the only person who’s ever beat you?”

“To be fair, I was 2 years younger, and it was my first time in an F3 car,” you defended.

“How did I not know that?” Lando stared at the two of you. “You’re way too talented to have been beaten by Max.”

You burst out laughing as Max’s jaw dropped in shock at Lando’s words.

“Thanks mate!” Max scoffed.

“No problem,” Lando smirked back. “I mean seriously though! She’s fucking incredible! You can’t blame me for being a bit shocked.”

“Fuck off!” Max laughed in shock. “At least pretend to still respect me as a driver mate!”

“She’s my girlfriend!”

“I’m your best friend!”

“She’s World Champion!”

Max was silent, then nodded. “Fair.”

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

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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lewisvinga · 7 months ago

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forever to go| lewis hamilton x fem! leclerc! reader

summary; everyone thinks that lewis hamilton and y/n leclerc just have a work type of relationship due to her role as a marketing manager in versace and him working with the designer brand. little does everyone know how their relationship truly is

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3

note; requested ! i suck at titles soooo bad yall😭 ignore my titles plssssss😭

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and others !

yourusername: 2 years since i said ‘i do’ and just a few more weeks of us two. je t'aime mon amour. [i love you, my love]

tagged; lewishamilton

lewishamilton: i love you both, so so much🤍

lewishamilton: 2 years down and forever to go, darling.

yourusername: forever to go❤️‍🩹

username: WHAT THE FUCK.

username: GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO???19;8/&;@4@:9-8&,

username: cue team lh head loss😭

username: THEY WERE MARRIED THE WHOLEEEEE TIMEEEE????

charles_leclerc: you’ll be the best mother, y/n! congratulations you two! ❤️ couldn’t have asked for a better husband for my dear sister❤️

yourusername: i had plenty of practice with you and arthur🥹🥹 thank you, my cha🩷

lewishamilton: thank you! our child will be blessed to have you as their uncle 💙

arthur_leclerc: i will be turning baby leclerc-hamilton on my side tyvm

yourusername: 🙄🙄🙄🙄

username: arthur is 100% the chaotic uncle😭

username: AWHHHH

username: wait omg her dress??? his suit??? i just KNOW that was the wedding of the century

lorenzotl: félicitations! [congratulations] so happy for you, ma petite soeur [my little sister]❤️❤️

yourusername: merci, enzo🥹🥹

charlotte2304: we’re all so excited for baby hamilton-leclerc 🩷🩷 liked by yourusername !

username: that baby is abt to be the most stylish baby oh my 😭😭😭

alexandrasaintmleux: prettiest mommy to be💘💘

yourusername: alexxxx🥹🥹🥹

leclerc_pascale: mon ange❤️❤️❤️you will be an amazing mother ❤️

yourusername: well i am learning from the best!❤️‍🩹🥹

username: i still can’t believe that y/n and lewis were married THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME😭

username: the timeline says that they went to the met 1 week after getting married they are so annoying aldkalxk

username: dad lewis or daddy lewis???

yourusername: ong that’s what i’ve been saying 🙄🙄

lewishamilton: oh!😄

yourusername: leave my hormones alone this is YOUR fault!!🤬🤬

lewishamilton: i’m so sorry, darling, it is my fault, do you want your latte and pastries when i get back??❤️😁

yourusername: yes plsssss💞💞😛😛💓💓

username: i need myself a lewis fr 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #lewis hamilton smau #lewis hamilton social media au #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton scenarios #lewis hamilton imagine

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gotstabbedbyapen · 3 months ago

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Why Apollo actually didn't have beef with Odysseus (spoiler for the Wisdom Saga)

Heads up, fellas: The rambling below contains spoiler for Epic the Wisdom Saga!

As we may know, in God Games, Athena needed to convince half of the Olympian council to approve Odysseus' release from Calypso's island. Apollo is the first god Athena encountered and the easiest for her to convince.

Now, why is that? Why does Apollo's beef with Odysseus seem way too easy to rebuke? He barely has any connection with the Sirens aside from the catchy songs, so why did he use them to "accuse" Odysseus (heavy on the quote-unquote because he barely even tried) and not the sacking of Troy, the murder of Astyanax, or the violation of the cows?

Here's my theory: Apollo has no real grudges against Odysseus. Apollo has every reason to be mad with the mentioned instances, but he is also the god of reason and rationality and knows there is no point in being angry.

First, as far as I know, Odysseus had not directly offended Apollo in the Trojan War or during his journey home. Apollo won't just harm anyone, he'd only take retribution against those who disrespected him greatly.

Second, the City of Troy had always been destined to fall so if it wasn't for Odysseus' wooden horse, someone else would have caused its demise. Apollo can't fault Odysseus for being part of the city's inevitable destiny.

Third, Apollo should be mad at Odysseus for killing an infant because he's the protector of the young, right? Well, in The Horse and The Infant, it was Zeus who told Odysseus that Astyanax was prophesied to take revenge on the Greek kings when he grew up, and he had to kill the infant to prevent that. Apollo is not one to go against his father's decree, so he wouldn't be mad at Odysseus for following suit.

(And if you look from a mythological standpoint, if Astyanax actually grew up to cause destruction to the Trojan War survivors, imagine how many sons and daughters of the Greek kings would suffer because the prophesied one was spared.)

Finally, why was he not mad with the cow thing??? Simple!

The cows were not even Apollo's, but Helios'. Apollo already gave his cows to Hermes in exchange for the lyre. So when Odysseus' crew killed the cows, they offended Helios, not Apollo. Of course, you could say Apollo should be mad on Helios' behalf, but that'll take us to point 2...

The crew killed the cows while Odysseus begged them to not. Odysseus didn't commit the crime or enable it, so he was in the clear. And lastly...

Odysseus' crew were already punished by death and Odysseus was left drifting in the sea and stuck on Calypso's island for seven years to the point of driven insane, so whatever "association" he could possibly have with the violation of the cows should be paid enough.

All that aside, Apollo has little to no beef with Odysseus and only makes up a flimsy "reason" to be mad out of obligation. He didn't care about bringing justice to Athena's favorite mortal, he probably only wanted to have fun in the family drama because hey, how often do you get to see your oldest sister asking for a favor from your King-god father?

#apollo #athena #odysseus #the sirens #astyanax #helios #zeus #trojan war #epic the musical #epic the wisdom saga #epic the wisdom saga spoiler #god games #spoiler alert #my ramblings #The Pen explodes with ink #long post

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queers-gambit · 8 months ago

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Adore Her, Dior Her

prompt: ( requested ) what good is having all that money if he can't spend it on the woman he loves?

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 4.3k+

warnings: author foams at the mouth for Mafia AUs, overwhelming fluff, cursing, not edited.

"That's the one. That's one we should get!"

"You've said that about the past three dresses, Buck!" You groaned, smoothing your hands over the skirt. "We need to narrow this down, okay? The wedding's in a month!"

"Why did we even agree to go?"

You glared, "'Cause we love my brother and we're supporting him."

"But she's just so - "

"Jen. Her name's Jen."

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the cushioned chair, "Well, Jen's just wrong for him. Literally the definition of toxic."

"Does it count if they're toxic together? To each other?" You sighed, standing on the pedestal and turning to look in the three mirrors beside the dressing room.

"Of course it does," he stood, buttoning his suit jacket out of habit. He approached you, head cocking as he looked your body up and down to get the full view of the gown you tried on. "You're really okay letting him marry her? Turn this way a bit, baby, lemme see the front."

You scoffed, but took his offered hand and twisted on the small platform towards him, "You were there at Christmas, he doesn't listen to reason. So, if Daniel's convinced Jen's for him, as his sister, my only job is be supportive."

"They literally abuse each other," he pointed out.

"Well, he's not changing his mind. Okay? It's been three years, he won't budge, whenever someone brings up them breaking up, he goes into hiding - so, I don't know what else I can do," your hands slapped your thighs when you shrugged, "except just be there for him. Now, focus, please, help me narrow a dress down."

He shook his head as you turned to face the mirrors again, "Actually, you know what? I don't think anything in this store is for us."

The attendant perked up and scurried over, rushing, "Oh, well, we have a much larger selection in the back, Mr. Barnes - "

"That won't be necessary, Barbra, thank you, though," he nodded. "Doll," his hand planted on your waist, head over your shoulder as you still looked yourself over in the mirrors, "go get changed, I know where we need to go."

"Bucky, no, there's plenty of options here," you argued, twisting on the wee little pedestal to face him again. "We don't need to drop a stack on a dress - "

"You let me worry about the price tag," he smirked, leaning in to peck your cheek. "Just go change, pretty girl, c'mon. Step-to!"

You offered Barbra, the attendant, an apologetic smile as you shuffled back into the changing room; quickly stripping from the dress. When you exited in your street clothes, Bucky was tipping the aged woman for her effort in gathering your options, but the moment he saw you, his hand was extending to hold yours tightly.

"What was wrong with that store?" You asked when you stepped onto the noisy and busy street to approach the sleek, tinted car Bucky drove for day-to-day errands.

"We're not shopping at David's fucking Bridal."

"You literally drove us here," you laughed.

"Yeah, and then I had a much better idea," he smirked at you, unlocking the car and opening your passenger door. "C'mon, princess, just gotta trust me."

"Last time you said that - "

"That wasn't my fault," he groaned, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment. When you opened your mouth to retort, he rushed, "Aht, nope, don't say shit. C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere special so get that pretty ass in the car."

He grinned when you laughed and did as bid, feet safely inside when he closed the door after you were settled. Bucky easily jogged around the back of his car, New York busy this time of year as traffic flew past on the street and forced Buck slow. He dropped into the driver's seat, sniffling slightly.

"Reminds me," Bucky smirked as he pulled onto the street, "how would you feel about us going to Aspen this winter?"

You sighed, "Why?"

"You wanna stay in New York for Christmas?"

"Well, yeah! It's so magical."

"Okay, so, we can go over New Years?"

You sighed, "You know, we don't have to go anywhere..."

"Sweetheart," he cleared his throat, "I actually have some business in Aspen, this will just help determine when I schedule the meetings for."

"Oh," you nodded slowly.

He sighed, "I know my job isn't orthodox, but business is business, right, sugar?”

"No, yeah, yeah, I get it. It sounds kinda nice, maybe we can go skiing."

"You know how to ski?"

"No, but I'm sure someone in Aspen could help teach me."

Bucky grinned. The drive was full of easy conversation, neither you nor Bucky dwelling on his business dealings, always feeling as if it was taboo given his station in the Mafia. So when he pulled up in front of a designer store, you gawked. "Now, if we can't find something here - "

"Um, absolutely not," you laughed. "Bucky, I can't even afford to walk into a place like that!"

"Good thing I'm paying," he smirked. He assisted you out of the car, tossing his keys to one of his security guards who had been following in a separate, tinted vehicle. When you both entered the dimly lit store, you were blown away by the gorgeous minimalist design; warm lighting, open floor space, and racks of different clothing options.

"Ah, Mr. Barnes! Hello, hello, hello!" A new attendant greeted with more enthusiasm than you would've greeted any of your clients, approaching you two. She shook your boyfriend's hand vigorously, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, "Looking for a dress to wear to a wedding."

She offered you a forced smile, telling your boyfriend swiftly with her teeth on full display, "You came to the right spot!"

"See?" Bucky smirked at you. "All right, Valeria, what's first?"

Valeria waved you both onward to a private changing room, offering complimentary sparkling waters, coffees, teas - even offering to go retrieve anything you two would want from the Starbucks down the block. Valeria took your measurements and dress size, making idle chit-chat with Bucky and making it obvious he was a regular in the store, then scurrying off to collect an armful of options.

"This is - wow," you nodded in impression, petting the material of the display dresses hung along the wall.

"Like it?"

"It's growing on me," you eased with a small shrug, hearing Bucky chuckle and for his phone to chime. You perused the place as he became glued to the little device, sat in front of the dressing rooms.

Valeria returned with another attendant carrying coffees. "Right this way, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria directed you into a changing room, missing the giddy look you sent Bucky over your shoulder at being called his wife. "All right, so," she sighed, hanging up the dresses she selected, "I think these are modest enough for a wedding, but still glamorous to turn a few heads."

You hummed, "They're kinda short, don't know if that's the energy I want to be giving off at my brother's wedding."

"They'll fit differently once on but we can always accommodate," she assured, pulling one from the hanger. "Here we go," she assisted you, zipping you in and looking you over. "Oh, it's just darling on you! Look at that, not a single hair outta place, right?"

You giggled lightly, "It's certainly pretty."

"Shall we show Mr. Barnes?"

You nodded, following her out to reveal Bucky sitting on a plush loveseat, sipping his coffee. His eyes widened when he saw you, nodding, "Oh, yeah. This is what I'm talking about."

"Hush, we're only buying one."

His eyes rolled, "I'll buy the whole damn store if I want."

"You don't own it already? Hm," you teased, perking your brows.

"Keep sayin' shit, I'll cut a check right now - "

"Bucky," you tisked, moving to the runway mirrors. "It's a little tight, isn't it?"

"It's snug," Valeria agreed. "Is there a color scheme for the wedding?"

"Um," you paused, "I'm not sure - I just know it's in winter, like, in a month."

"Maybe a pretty powder blue?" She looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Or how about a pale green? Like an olive tone?"

"She looks gorgeous in anything," Bucky smirked from behind you, taking another pull of his coffee.

"What about that brown number?" You asked, ignoring the way his compliments made you feel like the only girl he's ever seen in the world.

"You have a very good eye, Mrs. Barnes," Valeria nodded. She asked her coworker to go find your size, taking you back into the dressing room. You narrowed down the options without changing again, not wanting anything black or dark since it was a wedding and not a funeral. Though, you knew Bucky would disagree.

You showed your boyfriend a pretty little green dress, but he shook his head. "I thought the black was nice," he told you.

"I'm not wearing black to a wedding," you laughed lightly. "It screams bad luck to me, don't you think?"

"Think it's more of a statement, sayin' the entire event is a sham and they shouldn't be doing this," Bucky snickered, the other attendant, Laura, returning with a pretty brown dress. "That satin?" He asked, rubbing the material when it was presented to you both.

"It's very fashionable now," Laura nodded, "and it's not too dark."

"Since when is it a rule to not wear dark colors to a wedding? I miss the memo?" Buck leaned back to his seat.

All three women offered him a small look, you chuckling under your breath before Valeria was leading you back into the changing room. "If I may, Mrs?" She spoke softly, "I've known Mr. Barnes for a number of years but he's never brought anyone into the store. Then, one day, he tells me he needs a new suit because the 'girl of his dreams' had agreed to a date, and every time since then?" She smiled softly at you, "He's sang your praises. I'm very honored you're trusting me with helping you today."

"Oh," you blinked in shock, giggling nervously, "well, thank you very much, Valeria, now I know why his suits are always top of the line." She waved you off, making you add, "And for the record, I'm not Mrs. Barnes, guess that'd be his mother, wouldn't it?"

"Oh," her eyes widened, gasping softly, "oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I just - he talks so highly about you - "

"No, it's okay, it's okay," you rushed, patting her arm. "I actually kind of like it..."

She hummed, zipping you into another dress, "You know, he's the reason my girl and I are together."

"Really? How'd that happen?"

Valeria chuckled, "He's very bold, your man. We were getting coffee one day, discussing his wardrobe for a business trip he had in Hong Kong, when my lady walked in. I went all silly and stupid, and Mr. Barnes just," she shook her head with a fond smile, "brazenly asked her out for me, in front of the whole shop."

"Oh, Jesus, yeah - sounds like him."

"Well, luckily, it worked, else I don't think he would've come back for my assistance. I was so embarrassed, you have no idea, but my lady - Charlie - thought it was charming and cute. Mr. Barnes hasn't let me live it down since. Says he demands an invite to the wedding." She met your eyes through the mirror, offering, "And I'd be really happy to give him a plus one, hmm?"

"You're so sweet," you whispered, turning to survey the dress. You spent the better part of three hours there, trying on dress after dress, nitpicking almost everything as you just weren't sure what to wear. Bucky wasn't much help, he just approved everything.

So, it was up to Valeria and Laura to help you; bringing out iPads and design books, trying to piece something together that best fit your comfort and the vibe of the wedding. You didn't want to look like a walking money bag since your family wasn't by any means wealthy, thinking it would be a slap to their faces since your boyfriend could spend his money without ever thinking about it. You didn't want to give your family any reason to talk behind your back.

"I like the brown satin," Laura offered softly, looking you over in the mirror. "But the blue is just wow, it really looks like it was made for you, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but I think the green compliments her eyes more," Valeria cocked her head in thought. "Are you wearing your hair up or down?"

"Up," you answered, trying to mimic the look by pulling your locks off your shoulders, "with thin jewelry, I think."

"Diamonds?"

"Pearls, if I can find a dress that looks nice with it," you smiled, seeing Bucky's reflection in the mirror watching you with a soft smile on his face; head titled in thought before his phone chimed again and warranted his attention. "Maybe we could try the pink dress?" You looked to the two women for an opinion.

"No," Valeria shook her head, "it washes you out. And pink in winter? Oh, sweetie, I'd lose my job if I let you leave here with that. Guess that means you'll have to come back in the spring, right?"

You grinned in response as Laura chimed in, "The green's actually really nice, but the brown looks much better with your body type." Then she turned to Bucky, prompting, "Mr. Barnes? Final decision - which dress?"

Bucky paused, musing, "Lemme see them all again, get one last taste. It's between the green and brown numbers?"

"Or the blue," Valeria nodded. "C'mon, sweetie," she offered her hand to help you off the wee runway you were perched on in front of the magnificent mirrors.

"You look sensational in them all, doll, how the hell am I supposed to choose just one?" Bucky teased, his canines on display from the broad grin that stretched his lips.

"You'll find a way," you answered.

"Awh, telling me Mr. Big-Tough-Manly-Business-Man who makes impossible decisions everyday can't choose a simple piece of fashion?" Valeria tacked on.

"You guys can't pick either!" He laughed, "And you do a helluva lot more shopping than I do!"

Laura, Valeria, and you paused to exchange looks, you pointing at Bucky and relenting in a drawl, "Touché."

When you were escorted back into the dressing room, Laura waiting outside the door for your privacy with Valeria, Bucky sat back on the plush loveseat and extended his one arm over the back of the seating. He smirked to himself, shaking his head as if in disbelief - but he was. Bucky was in disbelief.

How did a rugged Mob boss find himself here? Watching his girl like a private fashion show?

His whole life, all he knew was turmoil, pain, drama, and fear. He knew he would inherit his father's well-built organization after he passed and knew what this life would entail; having no preconceived notions about a quiet life. He knew he would have to be tougher than tough, adaptable, intelligent, and confident in his role as the head of the 3-6 Brooklyn Mob. Knowing the idea of a family was farfetched, knowing he'd never know the simple pleasures in life, that he would constantly be on the move - in-able to form real, sentimental, emotional connections. He knew, in this life, he'd remain alone for everyone's best interest and safety, indulging in a series of flings and one-off relationships that couldn't haunt him.

Yet they did. These encounters reminded Bucky how alone, how stranded, how isolated, how different he was. Instead of satisfying an unquenchable thirst, these fleeting partners became heavy anchors to Bucky's reality and reminded him that there was no such thing as love - nor was there any room or logic.

And then... He met you. Bucky's lips silently spread in a grin as he remembered meeting you at a bakery; purchasing the last slice of coconut cream pie to your absolute chagrin. He thought you were gorgeous, something ethereal and unobtainable; authentic, raw, and unfiltered - things his one night stands could never measure up to. So, he offered you the slice of pie if it meant giving him your number as currency.

After that, it was impossible for Bucky to consider ever being alone again because you were the sun; center of the universe that drew everyone into your orbit. He was smitten, content, excited to date you, turned on by the fact you had no idea who he was - a rare occurrence in the city. You were pure as fresh snow; sweet, kind, affectionate, attentive, and borderline overly empathetic.

Bucky knew he was in love with you after only a few weeks when he had shown up at your apartment, dripping in blood. You didn't panic like he feared you would, just checked up and down the hallway before yanking him into your home. You cleaned him up, tending to wounds, offering a safe space for him to relax in; making mindless conversation to help distract him from the pain he endured.

And now? Now, Bucky was sat in Dior, giving his opinion on your wedding guest dress; wondering how he allowed himself to get to this point of being domestic. Bucky wasn't a man to give his opinion on dresses, what color nail polish you should use, to send fresh bouquets of flowers every other week. Yet here he was, sipping too-expensive coffee, deciding between brown, green, and blue dresses that he never would've batted an eye at.

However, that was just the domino effect you caused in his life. You were sweeter than apple pie, becoming Bucky's one tether to reality that saved him from losing himself in this dark, criminal mindset he adopted. You didn't know it, but you had transformed Bucky from a brooding asshole into a boyfriend; someone you were proud to claim and never hid from - never shied away from. He admired the way you came to terms with his job, knowing it was a hard pill to swallow and yet noting the way you just accepted him as he was.

Bucky realized in that moment that he adored this new aspect of life after thinking it was impossible to obtain. He adored sitting here, offering opinions on dresses, his security left outside instead of hovering over him like a brutal reminder he was seedy. He loved having you to come home to, he loved being part of your mundane world - a person who went to weddings, who drank Starbucks, who asked her boyfriend his opinion about how she looked in dresses. Who thought bouquets of flowers were romantic, who baked him homemade cakes for his birthday, who worked overtime in order to afford his Christmas or birthday presents, who walked to the takeout place instead of paying for delivery.

All that you are, Bucky adored deeply; falling in love with you each and every single day. All he wanted to do was protect you, share his life with you, even pick out outfits for weddings you would attend. He knew if any of the men in his organization knew the extent of his affection, they'd surely weaponize it against him... Or at the very least, tease him relentlessly. Yet he never cared, knowing you wanted to be loved out loud instead of hidden away in a storage closet; but did care if it meant his enemies could use you to get to him. It was a risk, an occupation hazard for loved ones to become targets, but that only made Bucky so much more protective of you.

Laura glanced at Bucky and saw the fond smile soften to let his teeth trap his bottom lip, smiling at the Mob boss looking soft, content, smitten being there. She knew most boyfriends would never put this much effort into helping their girlfriends in the fashion department, thinking he must've been truly in love to look so at-ease. Plus his enthusiasm through the entire ordeal assured her that Bucky was genuinely enjoying himself.

Once again, you slipped into the blue dress and showed Bucky. He hummed and snapped a photo, asking you to turn this way and that. Then you tried the green dress, him taking another photo, and finally, you changed into the brown satin dress, facing Bucky for his final verdict.

Bucky hummed in contemplation, swiping through the photos. "You know what?" He asked, looking at you with a grin. "You look delectable in everything, I can't decide - so, let's just get them all."

"Bucky, no - "

"We'll take all three, Valeria, please," Bucky interrupted you.

You waited until the attendants left you alone with a knowing look shot in your direction to ring up the desired purchases, hip cocking and hands to your hips. With an underlying exasperation, you questioned, "What the hell, Buck?"

He grinned and stood, again, buttoning his suit jacket, "C'mon, princess, this is fun, right? Being spoiled?." His arms wrapped around your waist, looking down at you as if you hung the very sun that sucked him into your orbit. "What's the point of all my money if I can't spend it on you? Huh?"

"You can save it for a rainy day?"

He shrugged, "Not necessary."

"Maybe pay to send some underprivileged kids to go to college?"

"Well, there's a thought," your boyfriend mused, "but I already do that through the Stark Foundation. I sponsor a few scholarships."

"Okay, well, buying all three still doesn't help me decide what to wear," you chuckled, you mimicked his action and wrapped your arms tightly around the base of his ribs. Due to his height, your head had to tip backwards to meet his eyes with a small smile.

You could look at this gorgeous man all day, everyday if God ever permitted such an act. Why wasn't dating a paid activity? You'd be the top earner with the way you were absolutely enthralled with all Bucky Barnes was. And what an honor it was to earn his mutual adoration.

"We'll figure it out at home. Gotta get you moving in the material to make an honest judgement," he offered softly. "But you look gorgeous in all of them, baby, seriously. Like, drop dead gorgeous that makes every girl brim with jealousy. Shit, doll, you're gonna run the risk of outshining the bride."

You sighed, "Look, Buck, I appreciate what you're doing, but three designer dresses? Where the hell am I ever gonna wear them? What kinda event calls for overpriced fashion statements?"

Buck eased with a soft expression, "Guess I'll just have to take you out so you can put them all to good use, huh?"

"That's not a solution!"

"Is to me," he let a hand drift to roughly palm the meat of your ass cheek over the brown satin; another symptom of him being whipped, his comfort over public displays of affection. "Seriously, doll, how the hell did I get so lucky?"

"Hmm?"

"Just look at you, my girl," he chuckled lightly, "radiant in anything you put on. It's almost unfair, makes me wonder what I did so right to have someone like you I can call my own. I can't wait to show you off in those dresses, just look so Goddamn tantalizing. I mean, damn, baby, I'm gonna have to fight off men with my gun and the jealous women with a stick."

"You do realize we're already dating, you don't have to lay it on so thick."

"And you do realize being with you makes me the luckiest bastard in the city, right? Least I can do is spoil you, I've already got everything else I've ever wanted."

Your heart swelled at his words, sighing gently as your chin rested on his chest to keep your head tilted. Softly, you admitted, "I don't think you're the lucky one, pretty sure the honor's mine. I couldn't ask for anything more in a man - in a partner. I'm so fucking in love with you, Bucky, it honestly doesn't make sense."

He nodded, asking, "Know what else doesn't make sense?"

"What's that?"

"You refusing those dresses, I mean, c'mon!" He laughed, you groaning and releasing your hold; making his tighten to prevent you from escaping. "Those dresses look phenomenal on you, you really gonna reject my gift? C'mon, you know the rules, doll, if you adore her, you Dior her." You were ready to retort, but Bucky smiled, "For the record, I think you should wear the blue dress to the wedding."

"Blue it is," you smiled, lifting onto your toes and hooking a hand around the back of his neck to meet his lips in a scratchy kiss. "Thank you so much, baby," you whispered, feeling his lips spread against yours before he brought you back in for a much-more passionate kiss. "Hm!" You hummed, pulling away to scold, "But no more, all right? You spend too much money on me - I mean, who the hell needs three designer dresses?"

"You do," he whispered, "you deserve all of this, sugar, and I'll do what I can t'spoil you the way you should be. Might as well get used to it, I got no plans on stopping."

Your eyes rolled in good faith, excusing yourself, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Lemme get changed and we can - "

"Nah," he shook his head, petting the skin of your back exposed from the brown satin dress with his fingertips, "know what? Stay in the dress, I wanna take you out and show you off."

Your lips found his in a breath-sucking kiss, trying to convey your appreciation and giddiness over never having been spoiled like this in your entire life - feeling grateful, refreshed, and privileged for a man like Bucky in your life. Whatever greater force there was in this world, you thanked repeatedly for choosing you to love this man and for this man to love you. There was no telling what you did to deserve him, but blessed be those heavenly powers.

requesting rules and masterlist

MCU masterlist

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anonymousicecream · 1 month ago

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First-Timers (Minji x M Reader)

Day 23: Mutual Masturbation

"Pssst, come here." You groaned, hearing the words of the person you hate the most. Well, it's not her that you hate, it's the jobs she ask you to complete that made you hate her. "What, ms president?" "Just come here, and sit down." You followed her orders and sat down on the chair in front of her 'presidential' desk.

"What do you need Ms? I have assignments due by tomorrow, which I haven't even start yet." You told her. "Well, that's your fault, and no worries, I'm just trying to know the most hard-working member of my cabinet." She said, and you groaned. She then starts asking you questions about your past (nothing too serious), before you also replied to her, asking her questions as well, which she replies cheerfully.

"So, what about my bikini pics you took in Jay's party last week, what was that about?

You gulped in panic, wondering how she found out about that. "H-How did you..." "No worries dear, I knew since the start, that's why I did those pose. Exclusively for you." She said, taking you back to that night when you took pictures of her on the sunbed, lifting her thighs, exposing her inner thighs. You exclusively didn't miss when her pussy peeked out by a bit, which became your material to jerk off over the past week.

"Tell me, did you enjoy it?" Minji's question made your heart beat ten times faster. "Just be honest." You slowly nod, answering her question. She just smiles before she got off her desk, slowly walking towards you. She took a seat on your thighs, leaning her head onto yours, meeting your lips together, guiding you into a kiss. You hesitantly replied to the kiss, letting you feel her soft and pink lips. It took you guys around 30 more seconds before you pulled out of the kiss, seemingly running out of breath.

"That was good, but it'll be better." What she did next, was to guide her hands onto your cock, palming them through your jeans. "That's hard, but I believe you can get it even harder." She then partly lowers your trousers onto your knee level, exposing your hard cock, before spitting on her hands, then using them to rub your cock using her saliva. "You like it when I do this?" You nod at her question before groaning, watching her smirk at your reaction.

"You know, You can do other things too." With Minji giving you consent, you reached under her skirt, finding a lace panty. You set them aside before plunging your fingers inside her, making her throw her head onto your neck. "Fuck..." Minji said, enjoying your pace with your fingers. You also felt her stroking your cock faster, matching your pace.

"Kiss me." Minji leaned in to kiss your lips, this time using her tongue to add passion into the kiss. Your hands didn't rest, continuing to finger her while using thumb to rub her clit, while your other hand goes to her dress shirt, unbuttoning them and setting her bra aside, exposing her perky nipples. You use that to your advantage, increasing pleasure for her as her juices started leaking. Coincidentally, your cock also started throbbing.

"I'm close." Minji moaned in between kisses. "I know, let's cum together." She nods at your words, increasing her grip and pace on your cock. You followed suit, increasing your pace inside her, letting out moans onto each other before the two of you came.

"Mmmhhhh fuckkkk fuckkkk fuckkkk." The two of you continued groaning as she came first, squirting her juices onto your fingers. You continued fingering her pussy, prolonging her orgasm, which also invites your orgasm as you came, spurting your load all over her thighs.

"Mmmhhhh fuck, that feels good." Minji groaned while exhaling her breathe and all you could do was just nod in agreement. You watch as she scooped up some of your cum from her thighs before she sucked it and moaned in pleasure.

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop smut #male reader #kpop imagines #newjeans x reader #newjeans #newjeans minji #minji smut #kim minji smut #minji #kim minji #newjeans smut

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i-am-lifeform24 · 5 months ago

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Curated Companions: Part 1

--------------🔞Masterlist🔞Part 2🔞Part 3🔞Part 4🔞---------------

-------------[ Artms Heejin - @worldsover ]--------------

Your girlfriend Heejin fucks other men for money; if you weren't cool with it, you would've left by now, but it comes with enough bonuses for you. You get discounts on her coworkers, but that pales to the 100% discount on Heejin. Your apartment is small, but she makes this bedroom cozy. In this hushed evening, as you complete daily gacha game quests on your phone, she's nestling into the hollow of your throat, grinding into your thigh, leaking your creampie from her folds, and making a mess of the sheets. All there is is your heartbeat pounding in your ears, your ragged breathing, and the soft squelch of her pussy sliding up and down your leg as you open card packs to garish yet nonetheless thrilling animations.

"Hey," you whisper. You set the phone down. She is slow to reply, though a few seconds later, she raises her head and gives you a sheepish grin. "Heejin, baby, what are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing…" she replies, pursing her lips in a coquettish smile. You raise a brow; how is she able to appear so innocent even with a pussyful of cum? Well, was ful, now half ful, the other half a syrupy streak on your leg that only grows.

"How's work lately, Heejin?" You stroke her cheek. There it is: the nervous flicker.

Heejin burrows into the crook of your neck. "Same old, same old," she murmurs. Her eyes fall. Her mouth turns into a small frown.

You caress Heejin's sides. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here."

"I know. Thanks." Heejin sighs and lays her head on your shoulder. "The company expects me to increase my sales by ten percent this month. It's ridiculous. I already have the highest customer satisfaction."

"It's not your fault," you say, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. She squeezes your arm.

"I know that's just how business is. We're expected to sell more, get more clients, increase margins, yada yada."

"Hmm. You should offer incentives to your clients," you say off the cuff. Heejin looks up at you with curiosity. "If someone is going to request your services, offer them a bonus reward, like a photocard."

Heejin shakes her head and laughs dismissively. "Too much gacha on your brain. Wait… actually…"

***

Heejin fucks other men for money, and you care less than you did. You've moved out of your little apartment into a luxury house in an upscale neighborhood. Your new situation is a kind balm to resentment. On a shelf nearby, an official company plaque reads "Girl of the Month" for having the top sales in October. An understatement.

Heejin trails feather-light kisses up your thighs. She takes her sweet time reaching your erection, licking a sensuous, savoring stripe up it. Lowering herself again, her lips wrap while she lightly gags and moans between words.

"I took your idea and ran with it." Oh, she's a runner indeed: runs her mouth as she runs her mouth along your length. "Glk... Guys would get a Neejinie collectible photocard after they book me. Some of the cards are regular ones, mmm, but the rarer ones are nudes and bunny suits and cum-covered selfies. Then I started coming up with new ideas. Nngh—now I have this whole rarity system, with guaranteed rare drops after enough sessions."

You half-laugh, half-gasp. "You're the devil, getting people addicted like that—" She closes her hand around the base of your cock as she huffs out a laugh.

"I like to think I'm more like a succubus," Heejin retorts with a cheeky wink. "You don't even know the half of it."

"My little entrepreneur. I'm so proud of you." You sit up to pat her head, but Heejin presses her tongue flat against your shaft, then swirls around like it's ice cream; you're flat on your back again.

She explains how her cards have a QR code on the back that gives rewards on her bespoke app, with a convoluted currency system. Some of the rewards are in-person: extra time, special activities, or custom outfits; others have virtual rewards like exclusive videos and picture sets. Her whole schedule's booked for months, and people are paying double just to get on her calendar.

"You owe me royalties for all these ideas," you say with a laugh that turns into a groan.

Heejin scoffs. "Just to fund your gacha addiction? Yeah, right." She lets saliva drip down the sides of your erection and gets it nice and shiny before placing the tip inside her mouth again. Nursing your cock, Heejin adds softly, "Mmm… I hope my clients appreciate me, not just the cards."

"I wouldn't worry about that."

Heejin's eyes twinkle before she engulfs you. The smooth warmth of her tongue coaxes your precum onto her tongue; her drool seeps past the edge of her mouth down into her cleavage; the room smells musky and sweet. Heejin hollows out her cheeks and bobs her head faster, letting out slurps and gulps. She manages to make giving a blowjob look, sound, and feel like the most pleasurable act possible. Your hips start bucking upwards until Heejin puts a firm hand on your thigh, after which she lifts off you with a loud pop.

"You're gonna cum for me soon, aren't you?" Heejin asks, kisses the underside of your pulsating, leaking shaft, and sucks your balls into her mouth, one by one. She swirls her tongue around the tender sack. Heejin strokes your length, rubbing it between her hand and face. "Do it, give me my reward, babe."

You're at your breaking point. All you can do is let out a guttural groan as hot cum spurts onto her. Strings stick to her lashes and eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, and her puffy lips, and dribble down to her chin and neck. You gasp, your vision returning as Heejin licks your aching cock clean.

She collects some of the seed on her face and spreads it over her lips as if applying lip gloss. Blinking, she looks up through her cum-laden eyelashes, showing off her white-coated tongue. "Ahh."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's just the photocards that make them return," you say. Heejin's lipstick is smudged; her glossy eyes flutter close, waiting patiently for your next move. You reach for your camera. "But just in case it is... smile." Shutter, click.

--------[ Le Sserafim Sakura @mintwithchoco ]--------

You’ve never understood the concept of falling in love.

Whether it’s that uneasy feeling in your stomach when someone you’re interested in is around, or missing that one person so badly if you hadn't seen them that day, it has never occured to you, despite numerous attractive women appearing in your life. There have been a few chances, but none of them worked out as well as you expected.

Until this night dawns itself upon you, as you end your typical day with an interesting experience.

You are already used to helping out your workmate with his job, but you're definitely unfamiliar with the thank-you gift that he has given you this time. Knowing that you were single and a virgin, he decides to hook you up on a special service.

“Thanks for the dinner earlier. None of my customers have ever treated me like that before.” The woman’s compliment floats into your ears, making your cheeks blush.

You let out a nervous snicker. “It’s nothing really. I just wanted to get to know you better. Besides, we’re gonna do the uhh… t-the thing. You know, so that it won't get awkward later.”

Miyawaki Sakura is a complete stranger to you an hour ago, where thanks to your colleague, you both finally meet for a specific reason. If it wasn’t obvious, you’ve never had the experience of having an escort, so it was a very awkward first meeting. Eventually, you end up inviting her over for dinner, which was successful at breaking the ice. You both talk plentifully over the meal, sharing interests and jokes until finally, the time for your reward came. As Sakura makes herself comfortable on your bed — already in her underwear — tension has been building inside of you since welcoming her into your apartment, and it couldn't be much more obvious.

Sakura smirks, looking at your clueless yet nervous expression. “So,” She makes a swift move to your side. Bringing her lips closer to your ears, she whispers, “Shall we begin?”

Her sultry tone makes you freeze up. You nod dumbly, and with a smile, Sakura straddles onto your lap, letting herself feel the excitement concealed in your pants. Her hands place themselves on your shoulders as she closes in the distance between both of your lips. Simultaneously, your body gradually becomes weaker the longer you both make out, putting all hopes on your arms to support yourself. Sakura then transitions to slow kisses, her hand now caressing your face and the other slipping itself under your shirt to feel your body. You toughen up, now reaching a hand towards her waist to pull her even closer, making her grind slightly on your lower half.

Fuck, I’m actually enjoying this. Sakura remarks in her thoughts.

Not long after exchanging soft moans, Sakura kneels down on the floor, leveling her way down towards your pants. Before you know it, your cock was released from its confines, fully hard and warm in front of her face. Her fingers wrap around your shaft, delicately, and she strokes you off slowly, causing you to throb and twitch with pleasure.

“Sakura, it feels so good…”

“It’s gonna get better now, darling.”

Almost immediately, you enter her mouth, saliva covering the tip on which her lips are gently sucking on. You let out a loud moan every time Sakura draws circles with her tongue on your tip and goes deeper down your cock. Sometimes, Sakura makes eye contact, her beautiful amber colored eyes shining amidst the sinful action she’s committing. You were nothing but mesmerized, forgetting the thought that she was merely here just to ease your desires.

A few minutes passes, and Sakura now optimizes her hand to stroke your shaft while diligently sucking on your tip. You can feel that burning sensation growing — the extra stimulation from her strokes are too good to be true.

“Don’t hold back. Just let it all out.”

Sakura increases the pace of her strokes and licks the underside of your tip. All of a sudden, your body jerks itself and your head falls back as you let out your first orgasm of the night. Two thick ropes of cum cover her tongue, before she sinks her head entirely down on your cock, so that the last few shots fill her mouth. Your eyes widen when you realize that Sakura was swallowing everything that you released without any hesitation. She then pulls away to show off her empty mouth to you, clean without any drop of semen left.

“Wow,” is all you can utter before your body comes back to its senses, your chest heaving to regain your breath.

“You came a lot for a first timer.” Sakura lifts herself back up and straddles you once more. Your cock was still as hard as it was, standing in between her legs. “But it seems that you’re not that satisfied yet.”

“I… I need more.” Sakura smiles upon looking into your desperate eyes, filled with fervor.

“You know, you’re cuter than all of the customers I had.” Sakura trails her finger on your chest and gently pushes you down on the bed . “And I’m quite fond of cute boys.”

Her kiss on your forehead made you realize how Sakura completely took over you — feeling an unbearable thirst in her burning gaze and stealing your entire heart with that beautiful smile. She then takes a hold of your shaft, rubbing her clothed pussy with it, before whispering into your ear, “Get ready, darling. I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

“Ah, fuck! Sakura! Sakura!”

“Mmmm, yes! Fuck me harder!”

The sun is about to rise, yet the both of you are still inside each other, drunk off the dopamine. The view of her breasts bouncing up and down is getting familiar to you, given that you have been thrusting into her hungry pussy for hours on end and filling her up with your load countlessly. You did not care about the risks that this night may give you. The only thing that was inside of your mind was just how Miyawaki Sakura managed to mess you up in different ways, dragging you out of your comfort zone and discovering your unknown side.

You look into her eyes once again—the prettiest you’ve ever seen—and it was obvious that she was getting closer to her peak. No words were needed because you know what she wants. You fuck her harder and deeper, hitting all of her right spot with her moans growing louder. The moans then turned into a sudden guttural shriek, with Sakura’s body violently spasming as she squirts around your cock, drenching your crotch and the bed. Not long after, with one last thrust, you erupt deep inside her as well, emptying everything that you had left in your balls. As you pull yourself out, it reveals a heavenly sight of Sakura’s sweaty body with her legs still spread out and your semen slowly spilling out of her pussy like an endless flow.

Expecting her to leave soon, you try your best to get anything that she may need—tissues, water, her clothes—but Sakura seems to not care, as if she doesn’t wanna leave. Suddenly, she hugs you from behind when you are about to grab her panties.

“Hey, can I just stay in?”

“Uhh sure, but I gotta go to work soon—”

“Dummy, don’t you understand?” Sakura then turns you around and brings you in for a kiss. “I like you. And..” Her cheeks began to turn red. “...I wanna stay with you for a while.”

You are astonished by her words because you had a similar thought—getting closer and keeping a relationship with her. She has successfully planted a new feeling inside of your heart just in one night, and you desire to learn about it more.

“Sakura… I like you too.”

---------------[ SNSD Seohyun - @kesujo ]---------------

Seohyun squeals as you push her onto the bed. Her impressive rack threatens to spill out the sides of her black cut-away dress; seeing hints of her almond areola reignites all the fantasies you’ve had about her tits.

This night, you plan on fulfilling all of them.

“Don’t lie, you can’t wait to be fucked by me.”

“You’re so full of it.”

“If anyone’s full of anything, it’ll be you with my cock very shortly.”

Despite rolling her eyes at your remark, Seohyun remains professional when you mount the bed and slip your hands underneath her dress. You can see her breath hitch from your hands cupping her boobs and scooping them out.

“I don’t know why you chose to remain a virgin until now when you have such sexy, fuckable tits.” She responds only with slight gasps and muffled moans, you sparing no expense in fully indulging in the exquisite feeling of having her brimming-to-the-top milk jugs in your hands. “Saving yourself for me, hoping I’d win the bid?”

“In your drea—” she cuts herself off again with another squeal as you pinch her nipples.

“Your voice and body give away your excitement.”

“That’s not…” Your hands dive underneath the dress, making contact with the uncovered intersection of her legs, already damp and sticky with precum. Before she can respond, your two digits are knuckle-deep inside her sweltering hot sex.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Your two digits dig deeper, and Seohyun sighs turn into gasps. You can tell she’s trying to stifle them but failing, and that makes you even harder. When you kick your pants and boxers off, you can see Seohyun’s defiant gaze melting into awe.

Your knees push aside her legs while your hands push aside her dress. Her professionalism keeps her from resisting, even if she squirms a little under the intense gaze of you looking at her freshly shaven pussy. “No hymen?” Seohyun shakes her head. You find it adorable how she, who was so spunky and full of life just seconds prior, has now clammed up. “Good. Goin’ in.”

You watch her eyes widen and lips part as you plunge inside her, gasps turning into moans the more your dick advances. You can feel her tight, virgin walls being pried open by your girth and relish in the delectable pressure she’s exerting onto you. As soon as she gives you to go ahead, you’re thrusting with all the stored-up anticipation and lust this night had built up inside you. Seohyun’s hands tightly grip the bedsheets, red-faced in her failed attempt to hold back the sounds of her ecstasy. The adorable showcasing of her bashful indulgence makes you go even harder, deeper, causing Seohyun to get louder in tandem. “Call me Dex.”

“Wh-What?”

“For when you need to scream my name.”

Seohyun can only respond with a sharp moan, your thumb pressing on her clit. When you finally manage to fully hilt her, you keep it there for a few seconds, letting your thumb circle her clit for a few seconds.

“Wh—” the question dies in her throat, but you can see the desperation on her face.

“Hm?” Seohyun shakes her head. “What is it?” It’s a rhetorical question, though: ecstasy is written all over her face.

“N-Nothing.”

Your index finger brushes over the stub, causing her entire body to spasm. “Really?” She stays silent, but you can tell from her squirming that it’s difficult for her to do so.

So, when you suddenly extract your penis from her, she says, “What—” but catches herself. Shortly, she finds herself seated in your lap, looking at her fully nude body through a body-length mirror. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

“What, did you just want to stare?”

“You’re gonna watch me fuck you senseless.” Stuffing your cock back inside her clams up the chatty escort. |Your eyes drink in the sight, of her round breasts rising and falling, her waist that dips inward and her baby-bearing hips that curve outward, and your cock firmly lodged between her pried-open vaginal lips.| “Watch.”

Seohyun obeys, instantly zeroing in on the same thing you are looking at, watching you fully hilt her. “Hm…”

You can see how much the sight turns her on. “Fuck…” Her tightness serves as resistance, but not enough: soon, Seohyun is bouncing on your lap, your tip repeatedly battering her cervix at the apex of each thrust. Her eyes fixate on your connection, each bounce splattering more juices onto both of them. Eventually, Seohyun is unable to contain her moans, joining you and the wet slapping sounds of her ass on your crotch.

“Fuck, Seohyun…”

You start playing around with different angles until she lets out a squealing moan.

“Oh, there?”

Seohyun refuses to say anything, but is soon lost in ecstasy as you repeatedly assault that very spot. Her hands climb up her body and start playing with her own boobs; her head leans back on your chest and her eyes close.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Shit…” You use a bit more force, causing her to moan a bit more loudly than before. “A-Ah!”

“Tell me how much you love it.”

“F-Fuck…”

Both index fingers surround the sensitive nub sitting atop her pried-open folds. “Say it.”

“Damn it—” she lets a muffled scream as your fingers apply pressure to her clit.

“Say it,” you growl into her ear.

“F-Fuck…” The swear is barely audible over the sound of your balls slapping against her ass. “…please…”

“Hm?” Your fingers dance around her clit. You can see her impatience in her body, feel her impending climax as clearly as your own.

“God, god, please…”

“Louder.”

“Please, please!”

You reward her by squeezing the sensitive nub, eliciting a loud moan. “Watch. Watch yourself cum all over my dick.”

She eyes blink open and land back onto your connection. “Oh, fuck…”

The force of your thrusts increases, invigorated by her gaze. “You like that?”

Seohyun unabashedly nods, and when your fingers squeeze her clit again, her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Oh—”

“Cum for me, Seohyun.”

“Fuck, fuck—DEX!”

Watching her screaming orgasm overtake her is what pushes you over the edge. Your bodies ram against each other relentlessly, Seohyun depositing buckets of fluids onto your groin while you deposit yours into the condom. Her firm, hot walls convulsing against your shaft milks out the last few streams, and by the time your orgasm subsides, so too is Seohyun’s.

Exhausted, Seohyun’s head leans against your chest, her hands coming down to her sides and her shoulders relaxing.

“Pretty good, aren’t I?”

Gone is the combative, stubborn brat, replaced by a teasing smirk playing at her luscious lips. “I’m not sure if I can tell just yet…”

You push the seductress off your lap and throw her onto the soft mattress, face down. She expertly lands with her knees tucked in, pointing her shiny, battered pussy right at you. You take off the condom, tie it up, throw it into the trash, and reach for another one.

“Then I guess I’ll have to beat it into you.”

--------------[ VIVIZ Eunha - @0cta9on ]----------------

“Do you think I would be a good escort?”

You spit out your coffee, nearly choking to death from utter shock. “Eunha, what the hell are you talking about?”

She shrugs, not looking up from her phone. “Just a thought. Job hunting is a bitch, but I need money.”

“Why don’t you work at the cafe down the street?” You suggest. “They’ve had that ‘We’re Hiring’ sign in front of their store for weeks.”

Eunha groans, sinking into her chair. “I’d rather eat glass than spend a second working food service.”

You furrow your brow at her. “And you think sex with strangers is better than making coffee?”

“If I’m getting paid $800 an hour, then absolutely. All I have to do is sleep with some guy once a week and I’ll be making at least $3000 a month. That’s more than your silly little subway job pays,” she says smugly.

You open her mouth to argue but concede after realizing she’s right. “Still, I don’t think it’s a good idea to sell your body just because you don’t want to work a normal job. How do you plan on getting ‘clients’ anyways?”

“What, you don’t think people would pay just to see these puppies?” Eunha squeezes her breast, soft yet hefty in her small hands. You look away, blushing profusely. “Don’t pretend like you don’t stare at my chest whenever I walk around the apartment in a sports bra,” she teases you.

“I- W-well, uh… N-no, I… Hmm…” You blabber like an idiot, trying to scootch away from her as she leans in with a mischievous smile.

“C’mon, just a few hundred bucks and I’ll let you touch them~ I’ll even give you a little roommate discount,’ she giggles, deriving great pleasure from watching you squirm in your seat.

“H-how… How much?” You stutter, keeping your gaze away from her.

“Oh my god, really!?” She exclaims. “Hmm, how about $500?”

“$500!?”

“Ugh, fine, $450. But that’s the lowest I’m going, that’s nearly half of my hourly rate!”

“You didn’t even have an hourly rate until two seconds ago…” You mutter, taking out your phone. You can’t believe you’re about to do this. If Eunha was a guy, you would’ve kicked her out of the apartment ages ago with how awful of a roommate she is, but unfortunately, you’re a sucker for petite girls with big tits and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have hot roommate fantasies about her. $450 is nothing compared to the experience you’re about to have.

You send her the money, watching her face light up as she gets the notification on her phone. “Woohoo! Alright, first customer, what do you wanna do first?” She asks, leaning in with intrigue.

“I-I, um…”

“C’monnnn, what are you getting nervous for? There’s gotta be something in that perverted little head of yours. Plus, I’m not issuing refunds, so you better make this worth your while.”

“O-okay, fine! Uh…” With shaky hands, you grab her tits, giving them a gentle squeeze. They’re softer than you could ever imagine, yet still firm like weighted pillows on her chest. You lift them a bit and drop them, slowly becoming hypnotized by the way they jiggle to and fro.

Eunha giggles as you play with her breasts. “They’re nice, aren’t they?”

“So nice…” You glance at her lips, supple and glossy, and suddenly you find yourself on top of Eunha, kissing her puffy lips as your hands explore her curvaceous body. She moans into your mouth as you lift her top, tweaking and pinching her exposed nipples. Fuck, her moans are so high-pitched, it's adorable. You want to hear that sound all the time, put it in your playlist and listen to it 24/7.

Clothing flies all around the living room as the two of you are caught in a tornado of lust. Your shirt by the front door. Her panties hanging off of the TV. Your boxers are probably underneath the sofa, but that’s an issue for a later time. Eunha pushes you against the sofa, stroking your cock as she gazes into your eyes with intensity.

“I was expecting you to be a bit bigger, but this isn’t bad,” she teases with a smirk.

“Are you gonna insult all your clients like this?” You run your thumb over her lips, grinning as she takes it between her lips for a split second.

“Just the perverted ones that stare at my tits.” She winks at you before running her tongue along your entire length, producing a guttural moan from your mouth. Watching her cute and innocent face inhale your cock is a sight that you’ll surely remember forever.

Your tip barely grazes the back of her throat with each pump of her head, sucking you off like it’s the last dick she’ll ever suck. Eunha’s pretty round eyes never leave yours, watching contentedly as your face morphs with pleasure. Suddenly, she removes your cock from her mouth, jumping onto your lap and lining up your rod with her dripping hot core.

“I need you inside of me,” she says, her lips coated in saliva.

“Who’s the pervert now?” You tease, watching with bated breath as your tip slowly disappears in between her legs.

“Don’t act like you haven’t imagined this before.” Eunha’s smirk fades into a look of pure ecstasy as you bottom out inside of her. Her velvety walls squeeze and cling to you, never letting you go as she bounces on your cock like a good girl.

Her tits jiggle tantalizingly in front of your face, practically begging you to suck on them. As you succumb to your basest desires, your fingers sink into the meaty flesh of her ass, pulling her into you as you thrust up. The sound of skin slapping against skin and Eunha’s pornographic moans is like music to your ears, a sentiment your neighbors definitely won’t share.

Pretty soon, you feel that familiar pressure in your stomach, and with one last thrust, you shoot the biggest load you’ve ever had straight into your roommate’s waiting pussy. Eunha collapses on top of you, her hot breath hitting your ear.

“H-holy fuck… M-maybe we should… D-do this again…” She utters in between breaths.

You chuckle, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “Fine, but I want a 100% discount next time.”

-------------[ Aespa Karina - @sumirhatos ]-------------

"I've told you I won't go for that old schmuck", Karina complains to her manager, "He's a creep, he's ugly and he's old as my grandpa", she continued while her face is visibly fills up with an absolute disgust.

"But, imagine how good would it be to get this company in the palm of your hand?", the manager replied to the idol's antics.

"Yes, but even imagining it makes me want to vomit", she gagged demonstrating how much aversion she has and started to sob...

"Okay, okay I understand, I won't insist on that", the manager got close to her and hugged Karina, comforting the girl sitting in front of him. She eased accepting the embrace.

"You know what? I actually have an idea!", the manager wiped the tears from her cheek and continued, "He has a grandson, quite young and handsome, it's not a 100% chance that you will get any sort of a benefit from this, but there is a possibility he's going to be of use.

"Fine... Worth a shot, I guess...", she yearned with no interest in her voice.

"Okay, I'll get in touch with you later, when I arrange the meeting", manager said standing up and leaving her place.

@Later that night@

The taxi brought her to the destination, getting out of the car Karina can see a mansion hidden behind high fences. Getting to the gates she's faced by two big men, supposedly guards.

"May I help you miss?", one of the guards asks the girl.

"I'm expected, my name is Yu Jimin", she replies in a low voice.

"Please wait", the other guard said and then reported to someone on the radio about her arrival, "Please go ahead miss Yu", he said opening the gates for her.

She goes past the gates and to the entrance door. Entering the manor, she's greeted by a butler wearing a gray suit.

"Greeting miss Yu Jimin. Please leave your belonging here, young master is at his office at the 2nd floor, he's awaiting you", he rambled pointing at the counter near the door.

Jimin took off her coat and left her bag on a counter taking just her phone with her, after which she followed the butler upstairs to a fancy office room.

"Master, your guest is here", butler says entering the room to the guy sitting at the desk.

"Thank you, that would be all", he replied to the butler. Butler bows and closes the double doors behind him.

"Miss Yu Jimin", he gets out of his chair and rushes to the girl, "it is such an honor to meet you", he greets her and kisses her hand, causing her to jerk her hand away in surprise.

"Just Jimin", she replied awkwardly.

"Okay, Miss Jimin. My name is Lee Seokjin, but call me Seokjin" he points to the couch and the table set out in front of the desk, "please sit"

"Listen, we both know why I'm here, so let's just get it over with", she spills starting to unbuckle his belt.

"Woah woah woah, Miss Jimin let's not rush things", he said getting her hands away from him, "I know you are not a slut, you just pretend to be one, we both know that".

"What is it I'm after then?", she leans back on the couch folding her arms on her chest.

"You are after my grandfather's money, everyone wants a piece of that", he sighs, sitting down on the couch on the left side of Jimin, "To be absolutely honest with you I'm also after it, that old fart is not giving me shit", he exclaims.

"Oh really? I feel sorry for you Mister Seokjin", she says sarcastically glancing at the whole place, "you're having such a bad life, such a poor guy".

"Nah, that's not it Jimin", he said," all of this is nothing, just a drop in the ocean", he continued.

"What do you want then?", she asks curiously.

"That's when you come into the play", he says putting his hand on her knee, "I have a proposal for you", he ran his hand over her dress covered thigh.

"Mmm, I'm all ears", she said biting her lip, leaning towards him, her cleavage is now right in his face, "what is it you crave for Mister Seokjin?", she whispered, tracing her hand over her cleavage.

"I want you... Umm...", he was a bit startled by the last move, but quickly recovered he continued, "I want you to help me get what is rightfully mine", he leaned towards Jimin, getting his face closer to hers.

"Yes? Tell me more Mister Lee", she leaned forward him, their lips are almost touching.

"I'm the heir of this family and you can be a part of it", he traced her face with his left hand while the right hand was still remaining on her thigh, "I'm going to look as very perspective heir for the family if I land myself a girl like you".

"Oh my, is that a marriage proposal?", she laughs, "are you that desperate that you want to marry a complete stranger?" she asks grinning at him.

"Not a marriage proposal, silly", he leans away from her stopping the touchy-touchy act, "You just need to pretend to be my girlfriend, so I can get my old man's approval and you can get the money you want so much", he continued.

"So that's what you think of me?", she asks angrily, "Am I some kind of a fucking whore to you?", she continues getting angrier.

"Are you not?", Seokjin asks her calmly.

"W-what?", she responds confused and agitated, "NO, I'm not, who the fuck do you think you are?", she asks furiously, starting to shout.

"That's what I thought", Seokjin responds calmly, "I don't think that you are a whore, I did not say that, you said it yourself", he continued.

"But you implied it!", Jimin exclaimed

"I did not imply anything, I simply offered you a job, no implications, just pure logic, so do you want the money, no?", he asked curiously.

"I'm don't need your fucking money", she exclaimed jumping up from the couch "I have enough money for the rest of my life, I just want fucking respect, recognition, that I'm not some sort of a fucking toy that you can play with", she continued in a lower tone, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Turns out we are not so different after all", Seokjin got up, handing her a handkerchief, "I also want the recognition from others, my whole life I was just a son and grandson", he continued, "I want to be Lee Seokjin, I don't want to dwell in the shadow of my relatives. Same as you I want power".

For a minute there was nothing but the silence. Jimin wiped her tears and handed the handkerchief back to Seokjin.

"So, what's your decision", Seokjin broke the silence first.

"I'll do it", Karina replied extending her hand.

"Deal", Seokjin said shaking Jimin's hand.

----------------[ IVE Yujin - @craycr4y ]------------------

“Ohh fuck you’re tight” you unconsciously uttered as you what’s the right word? plow? pound? Yujin. You don’t remember if that was her really her name since both of you just went down into it the moment, she stepped foot on your room. As you try to rest on your bed, a knock on the door got your attention, walked up to it, asked who is it, “Your dinner’s here Sir” she answered, for a moment it made you think if you ordered something that you totally forgot and when you opened the door there you saw her, wearing a black leather jacket, crop top that perfectly hugs her perky chest, leather shorts that envelops her ample ass, fishnets stocking on her toned legs, and some weird ass heels. You’re not staring at her; you’re ogling her. “You done stripping me with your eyes perv?” she said, you were kind of embarrassed that you were caught, and “Welcome make yourself comfy” is all what you can manage to reply. And oh boy she did. As soon as you turn your back from the door, she jumped you, like a hyena to a deer, full of hunger, consumed with lust, that got you surprised but you have no plans on backing down, she started kissing your lips that lead to your tongue fighting back hers. She’s short and light so you pulled her up carrying her by her plump ass and walked to the bedroom. “I’m gonna fucking cu……” your thought was cut off by the woman shuddering in front of you that you totally forgot. You slowed down your thrusts as you let her enjoy her climax, you can feel her pussy clench in every thrust. You leaned then kissed her back, giving her time to breath.

“Lay down, I want to ride you.” Yujin told you. You’re now on your back and in front of you is her full glory, perky chest, lean stomach, toned thighs, her tight and wet cunt lowering on you. You finally penetrated her again, she stopped for a moment trying to get used to your size. Yujin feels wet, warm, and so fucking tight. Her hands on your chest and hips bouncing on you. Wet sound started to echo and her movement becomes more powerful, more frantic. Her pussy perfectly hugs your dick as she fucks herself on to it. You pulled her into a hug lifted you hips and started hammering her “You fucking like huh you slut? Bouncing on my cock when you don’t even know what my name is” right to her ear and you felt it again her pussy squeezing your cock again, she’s mewling, body convulsing, possibly creaming on your cock. “I want it ….” Yujin uttered. You moved her beside of you and now face to face with her, swiped her disheveled hair, “She’s so cute what the fuck” you told yourself. “Finish your sentence baby, you want what?” “I want you to fill me up” she finally managed to finish her thought “And I have no plans of pulling out” Now your places are switched you are now on top of her. It still impresses you how tight she is when you entered her again, she closed her eyes and bit her lips. This time it’s you who will chase your climax, just spreading her legs and your hips thrusting vigorously, her pussy is so wet it’s squelching, you proceeded to suck on her tits, nipples razor sharp, licking one and pinching the other, this made her a mess and whimper. You felt your balls tingle and abdomen tighten. “I'm cumming baby” you said as you make out with her while painting her insides white. You keep on thrusting on Yujin. After you filled her, you lay down beside her and she unconsciously went to your arms and snuggled with you.

------------[ Busters Takara - @writerpeach ]------------

“Ah, I’m so full,” you say with a sigh, wiping your mouth with a napkin and sitting back in your chair, utterly content. “This is the best ramen I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Told you.” Across the table, your date smirks, with this look of smug elation on her face, taking one last slurp of her own meal as if she’s savoring every little drop. You’re not quite sure what her secret is to keeping a figure like that—especially when she can pile on the food.

Her name is Takara you’ve been told—but you’re not sure if that’s her real name or not. Not that it matters much. Takara’s a local to the area, which means she’s the perfect person to guide you around the city, letting you know all the ins and outs, including this little hole in the wall restaurant that you never would have known about otherwise.

She’s incredibly gorgeous, showing off her body in this tight little gray crop top and jeans that you can’t take your eyes off. But hey, you’re allowed to stare—it’s what you’ve paid for after all.

“So,” Takara starts, right by your side with a bright smile on your face while you two leisurely traverse the riverwalk, taking in the medley of colors, the vibrant lights, and the serene water. “You’ve got a little over an hour left. If we keep heading in this direction and take a right, there’s a cozy little hotel that I like to take people to. I think you’ll like it.”

“Yeah? Well, lead the way then. You haven’t steered me wrong yet.”

No more than a few minutes later and you’re whisked along to a more docile part of the city, where the nightlife lingers in the distance. Takara speaks to the man at the front desk, and while you don’t quite understand every word, you get the gist of it. All that really matters is she gets handed a key, one that soon becomes yours as you follow her into an elevator.

A short ride up and you’re at a door with a number that matches what’s in your hand. You don’t have a second to spare, so the lock clicks open, and shoes are off before your next breath, heading towards a surprisingly large bed. It’s unexpectedly gorgeous, illuminated by red lights, with more amenities than you can count. But you’re not here to gawk over what this place looks like—not when Takara is right there.

“I assume you’ll want to start with my tits?”

“You read my mind, Takara.”

She giggles, gesturing for you to take a seat at the foot of the bed while she lifts her shirt off, exposing a huge set of breasts hiding underneath that you get a much closer look at when her body straddles your lap.

“What exactly does platinum get me again? The details were a little vague.”

Takara gazes upon you, and you can’t hide the lust building in your eyes when she reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra—and in a matter of moments, those pale breasts are freed, ready to receive your full attention. “Whatever you want, sweetie. You’ve got me for the full hour.”

You take one good look at her heavy breasts, so full and inviting, with this immaculate shape that you immediately dive into, latching your lips onto a nipple, suckling harshly. “Jesus, Takara. Your tits are fucking perfect.”

She moans at the praise, fingers working your zipper at the same time you cover her pretty nipples in saliva, only coming up for a breath when absolutely necessary.

“That’s what everyone says. Even people who aren’t my clients.” Her head tilts back while you feast on her tits, taking your time, slobbering them up so well before you get another pause in. “If you like the way they taste, wait until you try out how they feel.”

There’s a moment of disappointment when Takara dismounts your lap, dropping to her knees to get your pants off, boxers falling down right after. She gets this glint in her eyes, not so dissimilar to when you first laid your eyes on her delicious chest. “And you—have a perfect cock.”

Takara looks around the room, leaving her position when she finds her target and reaches into a small box on the counter. Not gone for long, she returns with a small bottle in her delicate hands that she unwraps. The top flips open, and your eyes widen when she drizzles clear liquid onto her breasts, pouring a little extra for good measure. You’re practically hypnotized

by how she rubs it into her chest, those immaculate tits even better all slicked up, glistening, waiting for one thing left—

She slides your cock in between the oily flesh, and you groan so desperately when she cups her breasts, squeezing them so tightly around you. Then she begins to move, up and down, and you fucking lose it.

“Fuck, Takara—this feels so fucking good.” Your breath gets taken away whenever you disappear into that delicious cleavage, as she uses her heavenly, soft breasts to repeat it all over again.

“Just a little warm up. Like the way your cock looks between my tits?”

A weak nod is all you can answer with, because before she can even get a rhythm started, you’re falling apart. The pleasure only gets better, a deadly smile on her face while her tits squeeze and squeeze around your cock, creating all this delicious friction. Clearly, she’s good at her job—the look on her face knows how devastating all this oiled up flesh that surrounds every inch is, the intoxicating bliss spiraling out of control.

Takara keeps looking into your eyes with every pump, her amazing tits massaging your cock in ways you’ve never felt before, an absolute dream come to reality. “Talk to me, baby. Want me to slow down? Go faster?”

“Just stay like that. Fuck, those tits—not gonna lost long, oh my god, I love these tits around my cock—“

“That’s what I like to hear, make a fucking mess all over me. You can cum as many times as this beautiful cock can handle.”

“Takara—“ All you can do is groan, your length trapped in this slippery flesh, giving the perfect view of how she slides you in and out. She grinds her chest, never losing eye contact, keeping up the pace as she squeezes, right until the last moment—

When your cock disappears in between the delicious valley of her breasts, you fucking explode, and your cock shoots hot cum in thick, white spurts, filling up her cleavage. A stray strand hits her chin, making her gasp in surprise. Takara milks it all out with a smile, keeps the friction going to get your balls all emptied, these creamy streaks painting her chest like a canvas.

“Now that’s a good first load,” Takara says, letting your cock slip out from her oiled breasts with a few lazy pumps, before rubbing your hot mess in all over until it glistens even more. You’re spent, but not exactly exhausted, not with how this pretty girl looks up at you, like she’ll be disappointed if you stop now.

“F-fuck,” you manage to say, voice all heavy and shaky, leaning back on the mattress.

“What do you think, got more in you?” she asks, so proud of a job well done. “Because we’ve got plenty of lube left…”

And before Takara climbs up the bed, she gets rid of those bothersome clothes, heading up to join you with bottle in hand, all naked, giving you such a good glimpse at the rest of her divine figure.

“I think we’ll figure out a good way to use it all up.”

-----------[ Kiss of Life Julie - @authorhjk1 ]------------

“Well, that’s awkward.”

You break the uncomfortable silence in your hotel room.

“Julie, how could you do this to me?”

The man in the doorframe looks at the woman in front of you.

Julie slowly lifts her head and you have to force back a groan as her lips glide along your length. Still on her knees, she turns around, her hand holding your cock.

“What are you doing here?”

She sounds more annoyed than ashamed.

“I work here! Who the hell is this guy!?”

You guess he must’ve seen Julie go to your room and followed her.

“I’m working too. Now get out, we can talk about this at home.”

“Talk about this? Julie, you’re sucking another man’s cock! You’re married for god’s sake!”

Groaning in annoyance, you grab Julie’s shoulders and turn her around.

“I’m not paying you for talking.”

When you push her head into your lap, you can’t tell if she opens her mouth to suck your dick or to protest. Either way, Julie’s lips close around your cock when she is just about to choke.

“P-Paying?”

Her husband covers his mouth in shock as he watches her sucking off someone else.

“Yeah, she isn’t cheap, man. But so far, she is worth the money. Except for…”

You loosely gesture in his direction.

Julie keeps bobbing her head on your shaft as you talk.

“Julie, stop! Please!”

His voice sounds like he is about to cry. You can’t blame him. If your wife did the same, you’d be devastated too.

When Julie looks up at you, you raise an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes. She suddenly opens her mouth wider and shoves your cock as deep into her throat as it would go. Her choking makes some of her spit fall into your lap and onto the carpet. You groan, feeling her tight throat. After gagging a couple of times, Julie raises her head. Your wet cock leaves her mouth. She keeps stroking it, without looking at her husband.

“Do you think this the first time? I’ve been doing this job for years now. How do you think I was able to afford this new dress?”

She gestures at her own figure.

“You have a choice here, man.”

You talk again, but not before guiding Julie’s mouth back onto your cock. She diligently resumes her blowjob.

“You either leave and wait for her, until we’re done here, or you can watch, if that’s what you’re into. But stop yapping already.”

You almost have to chuckle at his shocked expression.

“Just telling you the facts man. Although I doubt you will enjoy what the two of us are up to.”

Julie lifts her head again, looking up at you.

“If you want anything ass related, you will have to pay extra though.”

Your eyes are focused on her, but you can tell that her husband just sank into one of the chairs.

“I thought I already paid for everything.”

“You did. Everything. Except anal.”

You roll your eyes.

“You are already expensive enough. I’m not paying you more.”

“No anal, then.”

Julie shrugs her shoulders.

“Fine.”

You snarl, grabbing her chin with one hand and forcing her mouth open. You spit into Julie’s mouth, before dragging her onto the bed.

“Let’s get this little dress off of you.”

Her husband is making some noise in the background, but you’re too busy with robbing Julie off her clothes. You pull at the black fabric, exposing her tits. The lack of a bra enables you to dive in immediately.

“Julie…”

Her husband cries as you suck on his wife’s tits. You fondle them, enjoying how they feel in your hands. Her smooth skin tastes wonderful. Julie moans, when you flick your tongue against her nipples. One of your hands wanders down her body, while the other keeps playing with her tits. When you reach her ass, you give it a hard squeeze, making Julie yelp first and then giggle.

“Bad boy.”

You squeeze her ass for a second time.

“Turn around, slut.”

Julie gets on all fours, her face turned towards the chair her husband is sitting in. The lower part of her dress rides up by itself.

“Huh, no panties.”

You remark, as you glance at her husband. He is still sitting there, his face in his hands. As you align yourself with Julie’s pussy, you give her ass a nice slap.

“Let’s see if this pussy is worth the money.”

Your words make her husband look up. He can’t believe his eyes as he witnesses the exact same moment you enter his wife. Her mouth falls open, her eyes wide in surprise. Julie’s hands have formed fists as she holds onto the sheets. You give her a deep thrust, not allowing her to get accustomed your size.

“Oh damn, that’s deep!”

Her slutty moan spurs you on. You hold her waist with both hands and start to fuck her. Your thrusts are quick and hard. You pull her body back into you, whenever you thrust forward. It makes you hit spots her husband probably will never be able to reach.

“Such a nice cock.”

Another moan from her, another cry from him. You take a fistful of her hair and push her face into the sheets. It muffles her moans, but by the time you fuck her with all you’ve got, it doesn’t make much of a difference. You swear, Julie’s pussy tightens, whenever she accidently makes eye contact with her husband.

“I’m a whore for your cock.”

You have your first orgasm about twenty minutes later. Julie is lying on her back, pressing her tits together with her hands, while her legs are wrapped around you.

“Fuck!” You groan as you pull out. Your cum paints her tits and her face. Julie’s whole upper body is covered in your semen as you walk around her husband and the table. When you reach her face, Julie quickly opens her mouth to clean your cock.

You have three more hours.

------[ Dreamcatcher JiU - @midnightdancingsol ]-----

The hour passes and lets another take its place.

You know it’s supposed to be different now, that everything’s changed, but how is it that it feels the same?

It was supposed to have long gone by then, a distant memory to place out along with the rest of the last few years of your life, but all it took was a single shadow of a shadow to pass you by, and once again that feeling floods back by the time your other foot steps off the stage, engulfs you as you walk back to your seat, submerges you well before the applause concludes.

Afterwards, there’s no quiet moment for you to find out at the end of the anxious anticipation, where time slows for you as you make your way through a parting crowd—it’s quite the opposite that greets you at the end of the faceless celebration, a speeding pulse that follows you, pushes you everywhere in the clumping press until it finally leaves you, alone, soaked in its wake.

From here, it’s just a short walk down the washed stone steps, and then from there to the grey pavement outside where you finally find her patiently waiting, a black-clad figure that briefly tips her cap to you, wearing a smile that you had never forgotten, familiarly unfamiliar from how deeply it’s been etched into your memory.

She steps forward to meet you at the gates, and then once again past, and then again until it’s just you and her in the shroud of the afternoon.

"Congratulations, darling," she murmurs fondly in her lofty drawl still as clear as the bells that continue to ring out above—the sound of crisp white linens and sweet red wine, of tickling bruised lips and warming light touches, of lonely whispered goodbyes and set uncertain futures.

“Thank you, for everything, Miss.”

Yes, it’s so easy to ignore the howling wind, the drizzling rain, to focus on her fingers thoughtfully tucking your hair behind your ear, fixing the loosely ribboned silk around your neck, closing around your chin with her thumb resting upon your lip—like no time had passed, it’s so comfortable to leave behind the chilly admiration in the eyes of strangers you’ve barely known even up until these last hours of your shared existences and climb up into the comfortable warmth of her fond gaze where you spent the best years of your life.

“Have you decided?”

Of course you had—it was the most selfish, stupid thing you could have asked of her then, of her now.

Though heavy with anticipation, the memory is light with hope, and so languidly, it makes its way on top of thin envelopes, tiny trinkets, and tender surrender, where it stays, it stays, and it stays, until languidly, it finally leaves your lips.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life…

"I want you to buy me jjajjangmyeon…

“Unnie.”

…but, maybe yesterday can stay with you for a little bit longer.

“It would be my pleasure.”

--------------[ TWICE Sana - @co-reborn ]---------------

“What do you want to do?”

You’re not entirely sure. You don’t even know how this stunning woman ended up knocking on your hotel room door. The only clue you have is the text message from your friend: ‘Happy Birthday bro. Enjoy the gift :)’

“Can I see more of you?”

“Of course, dear.”

That sweet angelic voice of hers just pulls you in as you sit closer to the edge of the bed, eyes glued to the sinful performance. The slow pull of the zipper behind her, then the dress off her shoulders. When it finally falls into a crumpled mess by her feet, you’re salivating. Her figure looks great, and she looks a thousand times better when just in her bra and panties. It’s a sight to remember, you’re sure it’s going to be carved into your mind, but you want to keep a souvenir for the night.

When you pick up your phone, Sana seems to get your idea and starts posing for you. First, she leans a little closer to you and brings her arms together to accentuate her cleavage. Then more pictures where a strap of her bra is off her shoulders, then both straps. Just as you’re waiting for the inevitable complete removal of her bra, she turns away from you and flaunts her ass. She’s bending over, looking back at the camera with a seductive smile. By this point, you’re in a trance and mindlessly clicking away to gather as many photos as you can.

She sits on the bed next to you and leans in close. When you turn to face her, you find yourself face to face with her, nose almost touching hers, and the first thing you notice is how attractive her eyes truly are, followed by how good she smells. You barely realise when her hand is on your thigh and dangerously close to your bulge.

“Do you want to spend all the time taking pictures? Your friend only paid for an hour.” She then whispers directly into your ear, “I can take good care of you if you want.”

You’re nodding like an idiot, confused and overwhelmed by the circumstances you’re in, and you find your pants being unbuttoned. Autopilot has taken over your system, you’re letting Sana have her way with you. It does seem that she knows what she’s doing given that she’s smiling while kneeling between your spread legs and your erect cock in front of her. Her lips press against your cock, her tongue teases your tip. You’re tense on the bed, nervous yet excited for the moment when she opens her mouth to take you in.

The sheer hotness of her mouth all over you, the pure filth of her lips at the base of your cock in contrast with that happy glimmer in her eyes are all too much to take in. As much as you’d like to keep your eyes on Sana, you just can’t. You’re left gripping the bed sheets and tossing your head back to gather your composure.

It’s almost a new experience for you. The expert mouth bobbing up and down your cock works in perfect tandem with her hands twisting the base of your length. Time feels foreign to you. You don’t know how much time has truly passed. All you know is that you’re about to cum and trying to hold it back is just going to end up with torn bed sheets.

A quick peek down at Sana makes it tenfold worse. She’s so damn hot, especially when she’s making eye contact with you with those seductive eyes of hers. It’s like she knows how close you are. How could she not? You’re moaning without restraint. You can’t help it of course, but it seems like the louder you are, the more intense Sana gets with the blowjob.

The pleasure suddenly diminishes. “Where do you want to cum, dear?”

You struggle to choose, especially when she’s still jerking you off rapidly. “Your face. Please!”

“You might want to record this.” She winks before going back down on you.

Your hand is shaky, you can barely hold your phone up in place. You aren’t completely sure if it’s even capturing all the action. What you’re sure of is that Sana is blowing you faster than earlier and that you’re about to cum and that your other hand is guiding her head, almost pushing her deeper onto yourself as if that’s possible. Then your grip loosens, your self control vanishes.

Without warning, you cum inside her mouth. She reacts quickly to the first shot, pulling your cock out and aiming the rest of your shots on her face. The pleasure is immeasurable. It’s been too long since you’ve relieved yourself and the volume of your load surprises her as her face is painted white.

“Fuck Sana!”

You remain seated, exhausted, and appreciate the sight of Sana painted with your cum. She cleans herself up with her fingers and licks them clean while you catch your breath before she dresses back up. God how can a woman look so sexy putting clothes back on.

“It’s a pity we don’t have more time together. It seems like you need it dear.” Right before she exits the room, you hear a faint “Call me again.”

You just might do exactly that.

#kpop smut #male reader smut #twice smut #dreamcatcher smut #le sserafim smut #ive smut #kiss of life smut #aespa smut

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