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wheresarizona · 1 month ago

Text

but he’s the one I want

summary: All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch.

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound.

pairing: DBF!Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller/College Student f!reader (no physical descriptions)

rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, DBF!Joel Miller, slightly possessive Joel Miller, pre-Outbreak, age gap, explicit consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, spit as lube, overstimulation, sex on stairs, body worship, slight body insecurity, getting caught, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, Die Hard is a Christmas movie debate)

word count: 11.5k+

a/n: Alexa, play “But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift. I don’t know where this came from (daddy issues), but I hope you enjoy it! Reader is freshly 21 in my head, Joel is 35 (it’s months before his birthday), and Tommy is 29. Let me know what you think! Big shoutout to @devineconjuring for going on this journey with me and betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Main Masterlist

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s a Friday night; the sky is dark, but the porch light is on. You hug your jacket a little closer to your body to stave off the chill in the air as you wait outside the front door for someone to answer it. A masculine voice calls out, "Comin’!" Footsteps thud on the hardwood floor as they head your way.

Seconds later, the door is cracked open, and you’re met with the home’s owner, Joel Miller. Just the sight of him in his jeans and navy blue t-shirt has your heart rate picking up in speed, the man looking as handsome as ever.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees you.

"Hey," he greets. "What are you doin' here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

University of Houston—go, Cougars!

You smile. "Three-day weekend—I have Monday off. I thought I'd surprise my dad since it's his birthday."

The confused look doesn’t disappear. "I coulda sworn he told me they were goin' to Vegas to celebrate a few days ago." ‘They’ being your father, stepmother, and your teenage half-brother.

“Well, I guess it slipped his mind to tell me they were going out of town. He must be getting forgetful in his old age.”

The relationship you have with your father is… complicated. It’s not bad by any means—you get along and love each other. He just wasn’t very present when you were growing up—he lived in Austin while you were with your mom in Houston, only seeing him a few times per year. Now that you have a car and your mom moved out of state last year with her new husband, you occasionally made the three-hour drive to your dad’s to visit and do your laundry free of charge. It was also where you now stayed on your breaks from school.

Joel opens the door a little wider and crosses his arms over his chest, your eyes moving from his face to admire the broadness in his shoulders and the muscles in his forearms. Having his full attention on you makes the nerves in your belly flutter around like a bunch of butterflies were let loose.

“He’s not much older than me,” Joel says. His eyebrow lifts. “Are you callin’ me old?”

The man in question happens to be one of your father’s best friends—or so you’ve been told. In all of the visits to your dad’s growing up, you could count the number of times you saw Joel on one hand. Over the past year that you’ve been coming to Austin regularly, you’ve had much more interaction with him, which has led to you developing a little bit of a crush. Who can blame you, though? He’s gorgeous—the chocolate-colored eyes, the hair that looks so soft, that perfect nose, and those kissable lips.

“If the shoe fits,” you reply with a shrug and a smile.

“Kids these days,” Joel grumbles under his breath, shaking his head. “Did you come by just to call me old?” he asks.

“Oh, no. I was expecting at least one person to be at my dad’s, so I didn’t bother bringing my house key. I’m here to see if you possibly have a spare I could borrow—I would’ve called, but I don’t have your number.”

Maybe he’d give it to you now…

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t.”

Hot and a sweetheart—how is he single? Is he single?

You frown, feeling annoyed that you drove all this way to Austin for no reason. You should’ve called ahead, but that was your mistake, assuming your family would stay in town for your father’s birthday. “This was a waste of gas,” you muse. “Love that for me. Well, it looks like I’m heading home, or maybe I’ll get a cheap motel room. Thanks anyway, Joel. Have a nice rest of your night!” You do a little wave at him.

You start to turn, but stop when he says, “Wait,” and you face him again. He opens the door wider. “It’s too late for you to be drivin’ all that way, and there’s no reason you should pay for a motel when I’ve got a guest room you can stay in. You can get a good night's sleep and leave tomorrow mornin’ when the sun’s shinin’.”

Again, a sweetheart—why hasn’t anyone snatched him up? Or have they?

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He finally offers you a friendly smile and moves to open the door all the way. “Yeah, it’s no problem. I was feelin’ lonely anyway with Sarah gone at a sleepover. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t my brother.”

Lonely? Nice to have some company? That sounds pretty single to you. Your night just got a lot more interesting. “Thank you so much! I’ll do my best to be better company than your brother.”

With that, you make your way inside, toeing off your shoes next to a pair of his work boots.

“That won’t be too hard,” Joel says as he shuts the door.

You stop in the entryway because you’re not quite sure where you should be going since you've never actually been inside his house. You only know where he lives because your father once asked you to drop something off here.

“Let me get your coat and bag.” You hand him your small purse, and he moves behind you, helping as you shrug off the long jacket you’re wearing, which he hangs up on a nearby coat hook with your bag. “Oh.” He stops in his tracks, and you look at him, seeing his widened eyes staring at your body. “Were you plannin’ on goin’ out tonight?”

You glance down at your outfit, and you can understand why he’d make that assumption at the sight of the cute little black dress you’re wearing—it only reaches mid-thigh and has a V-neckline to show off your breasts.

“Not going out—it’s laundry day. I do my laundry when I come to Austin, and this was literally the last clean thing I had.” Your eyes lift to see his glued to your chest, and you think that’s an interesting development. “I have spare clothes I keep at my dad’s that I planned on changing into.”

It’s the truth, and you’re a little thankful this was your last clean outfit. You can only imagine how embarrassing it would’ve been coming over here in a ratty old T-shirt, granny panties, and your Spongebob Squarepants pajama pants.

He clears his throat and looks away. A rosy blush appears on his cheeks as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I can put my jacket back on,” you tell him, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“No, no.” He meets your gaze, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s fine—do you need to use my washer and dryer?”

“You’re already being nice, letting me stay over. I can wash my clothes at the laundromat when I get home.”

“It’s really no big deal.”

“Thank you, but I’m good.”

“Okay.” His hands go in his pockets, and he seems to get very interested in the short console table against the wall, staring at the contents lying atop it—a stack of unopened mail and what you assume are his keys and wallet.

“So, what were you doing before I interrupted your evening?”

“Oh—” He looks at you again. “—I was watchin’ a movie. Would you like to join me?”

You smile. “Sure—lead the way.”

He takes you to the living room, where a movie is paused on the television, and lets you know you can sit anywhere. Your choices are one of two armchairs and a maroon leather sofa, and you choose the sofa while he heads for the kitchen.

“Would ya like a beer?” he calls out on his way to the other room. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond because a second later, he’s back at the doorway to the living room with a confused expression again. “Wait, are you old enough to drink…?”

The question makes you smile. “Yes, Joel. I’m old enough to drink.”

“Legally…?”

You giggle. “Yes. I can legally drink. You wanna card me?”

“No.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Beer?”

“Sounds great.”

“Okay.” He nods.

As you sit on the couch waiting, you become very aware of the situation you’re in. You’ve spoken to Joel one-on-one a handful of times over the last year, but it always happened at a barbecue or a holiday party—places where there were other people around—you’ve never been alone with Joel. This is new territory, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect, especially considering how he was staring at your chest.

Would you fuck him if given the chance? Yes, zero hesitation. Do you think you have a chance with him? Maybe, and that thrills you. Just two things are working against you: your age and the fact he’s your father’s best friend. Those are two hurdles you’re not entirely sure how to get over, but you’re definitely game to try.

Your conversations were always friendly in the past, and you’re proud to say you’ve made him laugh a few times. You think you could possibly charm him. What you know for sure is he’ll need to be very aware that you’re interested; otherwise, he won’t even fathom trying anything with you—thank god you’re wearing this dress. Nerves are swirling in your tummy at what could happen tonight, and you’re eager to see where things go.

Joel returns with two open bottles of beer, handing you one, and you thank him as he takes a seat right next to you. He leans forward to grab the remote and hits play before sitting back and taking a drink.

He’s so close to you that you get a whiff of his cologne—it has a spiciness to it and some citrusy notes that, when combined, smell amazing. It makes you think he took a shower when he got home from work today—and, suddenly remembering he’s a contractor, you imagine him shirtless and sweaty while using a hammer. The thought causes your mouth to go dry, so you lift your bottle to your lips for a sip, focusing on the TV.

It’s easy to figure out what he’s watching when you see Josh Hartnett in clothes from the 1940s.

“Pearl Harbor?” you ask, now holding your drink on your lap, picking at the label with your fingernail.

“Yeah.” His head turns your way, his beer resting on his thigh. “Have you seen it?”

Meeting his eyes, you answer, “Oh, yeah.”

He frowns. “Because it’s a girly movie?”

“Um, kinda? The guys are pretty easy on the eyes, and the story is interesting. I wouldn't say it’s super girly. Sure, it’s a romance, but there’s so much action and drama about the war in it.”

“The back of the DVD said nothin’ about it bein’ a romance.”

“Are you enjoying it, at least?” you ask.

He sighs and looks back at the television. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then enjoy it! If anyone asks what we watched, I’ll tell them Die Hard.” You lightly pat his thigh closest to you, feeling the muscles tense under your palm.

His gaze returns to you. “You’ve seen Die Hard?”

“Yes. A few times.”

Because it’s your dad’s favorite movie.

His upper body slightly turns your way, his arm going behind you on the couch. The closeness and the attention he’s giving you make your skin heat.

“I want you to settle somethin’ my brother Tommy and I disagree on—have you met Tommy?”

“Once.” At a barbecue. He didn’t catch your attention like Joel did. “What am I settling?”

“Do you think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

“What…?”

“Tommy is fuckin’ convinced that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and I say it’s just another action flick. A good one, but definitely not a Christmas movie.”

It takes you a second to process what he asked.

“I mean,” you start, “it takes place on Christmas Eve, at a Christmas party, and I’d say it’s a Christmas miracle that John McClane happened to be there to save the day. So, yeah, it’s totally a Christmas movie.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me. Just ‘cause it takes place on Christmas Eve at a Christmas party doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas movie.”

You point the neck of your beer at him. “You forgot John McClane being a Christmas miracle. Makes sense to me that it’s a Christmas movie.”

He takes a deep breath. “So, are you tellin’ me that—what the fuck is that movie called?” His eyes leave you as he thinks, trying to remember the name. “Lethal Weapon!” He looks at you again. “So, you’re tellin’ me that Lethal Weapon would also be a Christmas movie? Have you seen that one?”

Yep, with your father.

“I have, and yeah, it’s a Christmas movie. You’ve got drug dealers using a Christmas tree business as a front, Christmas is mentioned all throughout, they use a bunch of Christmas songs, and it ends at Christmas dinner. Absolutely a Christmas movie.”

“Say you’re messin’ with me, darlin’. You know what a Christmas movie is, right?

“Yeah, you’ve got the heavy hitters—It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol—then those stop-motion ones that are delightful. I’d put Die Hard and Lethal Weapon in the same category as Home Alone.”

“Why the hell do you think Home Alone is a Christmas movie?”

“It’s set during the holiday season, and there’s a ton of Christmas imagery and music. Plus, you’ve got Kevin going on a similar journey as the main character in It’s a Wonderful Life where, in the end, he realizes how much he loves and needs his family—sounds pretty Christmas-y to me.”

His jaw clenches, and it’s seconds before he inhales deeply and looks back at the TV.

“Son of a bitch,” he sighs, shaking his head. “They’re fuckin’ Christmas movies.” He takes a long drink of his beer.

You grin. “They are indeed,” you reply and pat his thigh again.

His bottle lowers, and he looks over at you. “Even though you somehow made a dumbass like Tommy make sense, you’re definitely better company than him. He’d never let me live this down.”

He’s visibly relaxed, and you have, too. The fact he’s enjoying you being there has calmed your nerves, and you’re having a great time talking to him. Plus, he’s nice to look at.

“Then it’ll be our secret,” you say. “Like how we’re totally watching Die Hard right now, and not—” Your eyes go to the TV, and they widen. “—the one sex scene in Pearl Harbor.” It’s nothing too risque and honestly kind of lame.

Joel looks, too. “They’re just rollin’ around on the ground…”

“It’s PG-13, Joel. I don’t know what you’re expecting from a movie where they can only say fuck once, and titties are prohibited.”

His head turns your way. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, and when your eyes land on his, you find that he’s smiling—your heart skips a beat.

“A good something or a bad something?”

“A good somethin’.”

You share his expression. “You’re something else, too.”

“A good somethin’ or a bad somethin’?”

“A very good something.”

His eyes darken, and suddenly, his attention returns to the movie. Joel clears his throat, then chugs the rest of his beer, leaning forward to set the empty bottle on the coffee table.

When he sits back, his arm is still behind you on the top of the couch, and he scoots the tiniest bit your way to have your bodies touching.

It’s clear that there’s a shift to the energy in the room, and the tension becomes palpable—he likes you, and you think there’s a possibility he more than likes you with how close he is. The thought has your heart pounding, and you’re unsure what to do next. You’ve only been with boys your own age, and Joel is so much older and more experienced.

The panic has you blurting out, “Are you seeing anyone?” Then, backpedaling, “Not that it’s any of my business, so don’t feel obligated to answer.”

He looks at you, and you keep staring at the TV, almost wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“I’m nosy.”

He huffs in amusement. “You only wanna know ‘cause you’re nosy?”

“That’s what I said.”

“No other reason?”

“Can’t think of any.”

“Okay—no, I’m not seein’ anyone. What about you? You got a boy back in Houston worryin’ about you?”

“Nope.”

“Really?” The genuine surprise in his voice has your head turning to see the matching expression.

“What’s so shocking about that?”

He frowns. “I beg your pardon, darlin’. It just doesn’t make much sense that someone as pretty and fun as you doesn’t have a line of boys waitin’ their turn to take you out.”

Those butterflies in your stomach are flapping around again.

“Not really.” You shrug. “Plus, the guys my age usually only want sex but aren’t very, um, giving, if you know what I mean.”

Now he looks grumpy. “Selfish boys,” he grumbles, and it makes you smile.

“So, not an issue with someone older like you. Good to know.” You squeeze his thigh and keep speaking so he can’t reply, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you single?”

For some reason, he can’t look at you now, focusing on your hand. He reaches across his body to grab yours with his larger one, staring at your fingers. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his thumb rubbing against each of your dark blue-painted fingernails.

“Women don’t particularly like that Sarah is the most important person in my life and my top priority…”

“But she’s your daughter, she should be your top priority.”

“That’s the logic, but they want me all to themselves and don’t like sharing.”

“Joel?”

His face lifts to meet your gaze.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve dated some truly shitty women.”

He smiles. “I guess I have. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve given up on datin’. It’s just a waste of time.”

“That is such a shame.”

His dark eyes get even darker. “You’re trouble.”

“Why am I trouble?”

His eyebrow arches. “Your daddy would kill me.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second as you take in the statement—he’s into you, he’s really into you. Now, what are you going to do?

“Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask and move to put your beer on the table. When you sit back, you cuddle a little closer into his side. “You were worried about me driving home in the dark, so you offered me your guest room—we watched Die Hard, then turned in for the night. You’re a stand-up guy for keeping your friend’s daughter safe.”

His eyes move from yours to your mouth, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face—his palm is so big his fingertips almost reach the back of your head. He starts leaning in, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought that he’s going to kiss you, and you stop breathing when his lips are only a hair’s breadth away from yours.

And then he pauses.

“Tell me why you really came here tonight,” he rasps.

That confuses you, your brows pulling together, and you sit back to see his face. “I did? I needed to see if you had a spare key to my dad’s house.”

His eyes are on yours. “Bullshit—there’s no way this just happened to be the last outfit you had.” He looks directly at your tits.

“It is if you wait super last minute to do your laundry, and I told you, I have other clothes at my dad’s. Why do you think I came over here?”

His gaze goes back to yours. “With that dress you’re wearin’ and how you keep lookin’ at me, for a lot more than needin’ a key.”

“You thought I came over here to seduce you…?”

“Yeah…?”

“Wow.” You gently pat his cheek. “You think I’m way bolder than I actually am—me coming here and the outfit was not premeditated.” You shake your head.

His eyes round, and you’d think he was burned by how quickly his hand leaves you and how he moves away a little to put space between you. “Fuck, have I been readin’ this wrong?”

You scoot to have yourself against him again. “The assumption I came here specifically to seduce you was very wrong. But you’re right that I definitely want you to fuck me, Joel.”

“Shit,” he breathes out and scrubs a palm over his face. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”

Turning his way, you rub your hand along his jeans-covered thigh. “No, I’m not,” you tell him. “Stop thinking, and kiss me.”

His hand lowers. “Not thinkin’ is gonna get me killed.”

“Not thinking is going to get you a blow job and pussy.” You press your palm between his legs over where you can feel he’s already hardening. “Hell, I’ll sweeten the deal—you can come anywhere you want.”

His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you smile. His reaction makes you brave.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll go back to watching the movie and pretend nothing happened. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and we’ll go as far as you’re willing to go.” Your hand moves up to hold his cheek, and it’s a good sign when he leans into your touch as you stare into his eyes. “But I’m going to make myself crystal clear, Joel. I want you—badly. You’re beyond sexy, and the fact you’re older and have a lot more experience than me is a big turn-on. I’d love to know what good sex is like for once and maybe have you teach me some things.” You shrug your shoulder. “It’s up to you, though. Just know I’m more than willing.”

This kiss is unlike any you’ve experienced before. You’re used to overeager boys practically shoving their tongues down your throat the first chance they get, yet here’s Joel claiming your lips—you can feel his every want and his desire for you with how thoroughly he kisses you. The soft pillow of his mouth moves with yours, his scent filling your nose—hints of the beer he drank and his spicy cologne imprinting this moment in your mind. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head goes dizzy from the arousal igniting in your belly.

Just one kiss and you know you’re ruined for anyone else.

His arms go around you, and he mouths at your chin. “Come here,” he says against your skin. “Get in my lap.”

You do as you’re told, bunching up the bottom of your dress at your waist and moving to straddle his thighs. His hands go under your clothes to grab your ass, and he’s so surprised to feel bare skin he leans back with the confused expression you’re becoming intimately familiar with.

“You really didn’t come over just to fuck me?” he asks. His palms wander, and you know he’s discovered your thong when he hooks a thumb under its stretchy waistband—they were the last clean pair of underwear you had.

“I really didn’t.” You’re curious about something. “But if I had, what are the chances that I would’ve succeeded…?”

“With this dress and a little convincin’? Pretty good.”

You smile. “Really?”

“Yeah. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and smart. I know this is a bad idea, and it’ll probably bite me in the ass later, but I’m so fuckin’ lonely, and you’re just too damn temptin’ to pass up.”

The truth is clear in his eyes and makes you kiss him—your fingers comb into the hair at the back of his head, finding it softer than you thought it’d be. It starts off slow and tender, just lips to lips, until Joel deepens it, the tip of his tongue making it past your lower lip. Hearing that he’s lonely tugs at your heart, and you want to do everything you can to make that loneliness disappear. Things start to heat up, and all you can do is follow his lead, moaning as he explores your mouth with his tongue. With his palms on your backside, he helps you rock your hips, grinding yourself against his hard cock beneath his jeans, rubbing your clit just right to fan the flames growing in your core.

When you finally need to come up for air, his hand grips your chin to turn your head as you pant, Joel kissing and nipping at your skin from the base of your neck up—tingles wash down your spine when he nibbles on your jaw. He gently bites your earlobe, and you gasp when his hot breath tickles your ear.

He huskily whispers into it, “You want me?” His hand fondles your breast.

“Yes.”

“I can touch you?”

“Anywhere.”

“I need you to be a good girl and tell me when you do and don’t like things—understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he purrs.

The way those two words make your cunt clench has you moaning, ”Fuck.”

He easily unzips the back of your dress, tugging the garment up and over your head, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. You’re sitting astride his lap, the dark pools of his eyes taking in your mostly naked body, his big hands massaging your bra-covered breasts. It’s surprising that being under his gaze, you don’t immediately feel self-conscious, and you think that has to do with how he’s looking at you—the desire and appreciation clear as he admires you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nodding towards what he’s touching.

“Yes.”

He sits up straighter, and it’s quick work for him to get your bra off, it landing on top of your dress. He’s focused on your tits, holding them in his palms, weighing them. He leans forward, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and the sudden shock of pleasure has your breath catching in your throat, your fingers grabbing handfuls of his shirt for something to hold onto. When he grazes his teeth over the stiff bud, your entire body shivers—your panties have a wet spot from your pussy leaking your arousal for him. He gives your other breast the same attention, leaving your skin shiny from spit when he comes off of it with a wet pop to look at you.

“Lie down on the couch, baby.” He pats the empty seat next to him. “Your head all the way at the other end.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You scramble out of his lap, the couch’s leather creaking as you crawl over to where he instructed and sit back on your elbows to see what’s happening. Joel grunts as he gets up to stand, watching in interest when he squeezes the noticeable bulge at the front of his jeans. His arm goes behind his head to grab his shirt, pulling it up and off of his body to bare his torso.

At seeing so much of his golden skin, your jaw goes slack—his freckled chest is so broad, tapering down to his trim waist, his abs showing a little bit of muscle definition you think is from doing manual labor and not working out. Your eyes fixate on the happy trail of hair below his belly button that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Sure could get used to you lookin’ at me like that.”

That has your attention snapping up to his face, where you find him smirking, and you close your mouth.

“Sorry,” you apologize, your eyes darting away from him.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about, darlin’. Makes me feel pretty fuckin’ great about the shape I’m in.”

You look at him again. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re in great shape and so hot—you’re really down to fuck me?” You point at yourself.

He kneels on the sofa by your feet, his hand on the back of it to steady himself.

“Darlin’, if I didn’t know your daddy, and you were a stranger I met in a bar, I’d bring you home in a heartbeat. I feel like a real lucky son of a bitch that someone as young and pretty as you has any interest in an old guy like me.” He lifts one of your legs and gently kisses the inside of your ankle, the sweetness of it making you melt a little.

“Oh, I’m very interested in you.”

“Is that so?” he asks and spreads open your legs. He crawls over you, and you lie back, Joel nestling his hips between your thighs for you to feel how hard he is as he dips his head, kissing up the column of your throat—the nerves in your stomach flutter wildly.

“Yes,” you whisper and need to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso to press your palms against the warm skin on his shoulders—his body shudders, a rumbling groan coming from his chest.

You squeak in surprise when his lips are suddenly on yours, kissing you hard.

He takes over all of your senses—he’s all you see, he’s all you feel, he’s all you taste, he’s all you hear, he’s all you smell. It’s him, and him alone—his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his weight on top of you. Your fingers thread into his hair, moaning as he takes over your very world, reveling in this feeling of being wanted.

His lips leave yours, both of you breathing a little heavier. His teeth gently sink into your chin before kissing along the underside of your jaw.

He speaks into your skin, his words muffled, “I’m very interested in you, too. I shouldn’t be, but I am.” His mouth ends up at your ear, and he quietly asks, “Can I eat your pussy?”

“Oh.” The question surprises you. “I’m usually the one who asks. Do you want me to blow you first?” There was always a quid pro quo when it came to oral.

His head lifts to look you in the eye.

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?”

“You’ve been with some truly shitty boys.”

It makes you laugh, and he smiles.

“Ain’t that the truth,” you reply.

“It should always be ladies first—may I?”

What a gentleman.

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” he says and pecks you on the lips.

He doesn’t immediately move off of you, and it catches you off guard. Instead, his mouth blazes a trail, kissing down your body—your neck, your chest, and your belly. This is when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head. Joel is getting up close and personal with your imperfections—your scars, stretch marks, cellulite, all those little details you normally kept hidden in the safety of dark rooms or under shirts when you hooked up with someone. Now, you’re basically naked, the lamp is on, and he can see it all, which makes you feel uneasy.

He kisses just above your belly button, then below it, going lower and lower until he places one last kiss on your panties, over your mound. He sits up on his knees, tracing the lines and curves of your thighs and hips with his large palms while he drinks you in as you lie there—you have to fight the urge to cover yourself, unable to meet his gaze.

The silence is broken when Joel speaks. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your eyes seek out his face where you don’t find any deception, but you have to ask, “Really?”

“Really.” He nods. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His attention goes to the apex of your thighs, and the pink of his tongue swipes along his bottom lip as if he’s imagining how you’ll taste. He strokes the pad of his thumb over the visible damp spot on your underwear, his other hand squeezing his cock that’s straining in his jeans.

“I bet you have the prettiest pussy, too,” he says, and gets his fingers under the elastic waistband on your panties, pulling them down and off your legs, the air cool against your now bared skin. He shuffles back a little, then bends forward, spreading your lips open with two fingers as his face hovers over it. You think your heart might beat out of your chest with how fast it’s thudding, your skin feeling so hot. “I fuckin’ knew it, such a pretty pussy,” Joel murmurs. He circles your clit with his thumb, and the pleasure has every muscle in your body tensing and your eyes closing. “You’re gonna taste so good.”

He loudly groans as he drags the flat of his tongue along your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

“Oh, god,” you moan, your body squirming at how good it feels.

Joel has to pin down your hips with an arm across them to keep you still, his face buried in your pussy. He goes straight to the source, lapping at your entrance to taste your arousal while the tip of his perfect nose rubs against your bundle of nerves, his facial hair prickling your skin.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’re fucked.

It’s not even a minute in, and you can already feel your orgasm taking shape low in your belly, the muscles beginning to wind up. If you thought the first kiss ruined you, you know you’re ruined by how eagerly he’s eating you out—who knew this could be so good? You have to wonder how you’ll ever be able to fool around with anyone else when Joel is all you’ll be able to think about or compare it to—this is the only moment doubt invades your mind. You feel like this is all a mistake, but it’s quickly squashed by how unbelievably horny and curious you are.

His mouth lifts, and you whine at its loss. “Gimme a second,” he pants. “I gotta see how tight you are.” That’s when one of his thick fingers presses to your soaked opening, and he slowly starts to push it inside.

The slight stretch makes you gasp his name, your fingers clawing at the sofa’s maroon leather.

“Christ,” Joel says. “You’re squeezin’ me. With how fuckin’ tight you are, I’d think this is your first time.”

You sit back up on your elbows and open your eyes to look at him.

“You just have massive fingers, and it’s been a while.”

His gaze meets yours as he smirks. “Well, I’m gonna loosen you up with my massive fingers, and I think you’ll enjoy it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. His head dips, flicking his tongue side-to-side against your clit when you feel the sudden pressure of his second digit pushing into you—there’s even more of a stretch and the delicious feeling of being full. You fall back on the couch, tangling your fingers into the brown waves of hair on his head, moans falling unbidden from your lips. His digits crook as they pump in and out of you, sliding along your upper wall when they press into something that elicits white-hot pleasure, making you keen and wiggle under the hold he has on your lower half.

Yeah, you’re totally and completely fucked.

He’s relentless with his mouth and fingers as you careen toward your end, free-falling in the throes of pleasure. He’s really going to get you off, and you think you might be in love with him. Is that crazy? Falling for the guy you absolutely should not fall for—that you can’t even have any kind of future with—because it’d ruin both of your lives, especially his.

Why does that make you want him more?

You definitely understand now why Eve ate the forbidden fruit—the temptation leads to such sweet gratification when you give in.

He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, sweeping his tongue around it, and you can hear the wet squelch of him fucking his fingers into your cunt. Your thighs are trembling—you’re so close, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter until it snaps, and you’re coming with an unintelligible cry. Your body seizes up, euphoria exploding out from your center, radiating to your fingers and toes. Joel removes his digits, his tongue taking their place to catch every bit of your slick he can get, groaning as he lets no drop go to waste.

You’ve never come so hard, feeling a little floaty as you ride out your high, your chest heaving heavy breaths. With how shaky your arms and legs are, you’d think you were out in the freezing cold.

Joel’s mouth comes off of you and he sits up, rubbing his hands along the outside of your legs.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says. “Was it good?”

“Was it good?” you parrot back at him and push yourself up into a sitting position. “It was more than good, Joel—oh my god, it was amazing.”

The bottom half of his face glistens in the lamplight, his shiny lips turning up in a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You still wanna fuck?”

“I think I will die if you don’t fuck me.”

He chuckles, and that’s all the answer he needs. He’s off the couch instantly, and you watch as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and gets his jeans undone, shoving them and his boxers down his legs so fast it makes you giggle. He’s balancing on one foot, peeling off his sock, and you finally get a good look at his dick—it’s hard and bobbing between his legs, the tip flushed red and shiny from precum, and your eyes round at how big he is.

“Second thoughts?” he asks, taking off his other sock.

Your gaze rises to his, seeing he’s frowning. “No.” You shake your head. “It’s more, ‘I sure hope that thing fits inside me.’”

He crookedly smiles, his chest puffing up a little. “It’ll fit—I promise.” And he has the audacity to wink at you.

Just as quickly as he got off the sofa, he’s getting back on it, kneeling in the space between your spread thighs. His attention is on your pussy, rubbing the tip of himself against your swollen clit and through your wetness. Nerves swirl in your belly, along with arousal, his free hand giving your hip a reassuring squeeze before he’s spitting on his fingers and slicking up his cock. He notches himself at your entrance, and your heart is in your throat as you hold your breath.

“Just relax, baby,” he says. “You can take me.”

He slowly starts feeding his hard length into you, making you gasp when the fat head breaches your slick cunt, your eyes squeezing shut, your fingers digging into the couch’s leather cushions. A groan rumbles from his throat, and you answer with a drawn-out moan as he burrows his thick cock deep inside you, your tight walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. Full doesn’t even begin to describe how stuffed you are—he’s hot inside you, almost searing, and you can feel him pulsing. He bottoms out and goes completely still, his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he rasps. “You okay?” His thumbs stroke circles on your skin.

“Yes.” It comes out as more of a squeak. “I just need a second.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Darlin’, baby, and now sweetheart when his dick is inside you? Is he trying to make you fall in love with him?

He bends at the waist, one hand on the couch holding up his weight while the other massages your breast, his lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the sparks of pleasure going straight to your pussy. Your fingers wind up in his hair; what he’s doing to you has you whimpering at how good it feels and only makes you wetter where you’re joined. He pulls each of your legs up to rest on his ribs while his mouth moves higher, kissing your sternum and up the arch of your neck, sucking on your pulse point and making you squirm underneath him.

His hands end up on either side of your head, his lips leaving behind a wet streak of kisses along the hinge of your jaw to finally ghost over yours—you can feel his breaths and smell your musk. He’s so close it wouldn’t take much more for your mouths to meet.

His nose nudges yours. “Need more time?” he whispers.

Enough has passed that you don’t feel as overwhelmed. You slide your palms up his back to his shoulders.

“No,” you answer just as quietly. “You can move.”

He pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in as his mouth claims yours, muffling your sounds when he sets up a rhythm of long, hard strokes. You’re gone—all rational thoughts go out the window, and the only thing you can think about is how his cock is moving in and out of you. It’s so distracting you’re having trouble kissing Joel back because your brain keeps screaming, ‘so big, so full, so good.’

You’re feverishly clutching at his shoulder blades, your nails leaving crescent moon imprints and scratches you’re sure will bleed on his golden skin, Joel moaning into your mouth. It surprises you when you feel the familiar tension of another orgasm making itself known deep in your core, the pressure rising with each thrust, the angle of them causing him to slide against spots you never knew existed, and you don’t ever want this to end.

His lips leave yours, pressing his forehead to your cheek. He’s breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead on his skin as he keeps the same pace.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this pussy. Just wanna stay inside it until my dick is all it knows.”

Your legs are quivering, your body is burning up, and you can’t get enough of how fucking good this feels. One time—one time—and you’re addicted, you’re drunk on the pleasure and will do anything—anything—for this to happen again.

“It’s yours,” you gasp. “Oh, god, it’s yours!”

His lips move to your ear, huskily asking, “It’s mine, baby? Your pussy is mine? I’m fuckin’ ya that good?”

You’re so out of it and lost in the lust you start babbling, “Yes, it’s yours—fuck, ruin me,” you whine.

“That’s what you want, for me to ruin your perfect little pussy?”

“Please—make me feel it. Make me ache to have your cock inside me again. Make me yours.”

He growls, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s immediately pulling out, your eyes springing open in time to see him sit up on his knees.

His big hands grab hold of your waist. “Flip,” is all he says, and you find yourself getting manhandled onto your front, Joel tugging you up onto your hands and knees. He wastes no time sheathing himself back inside you, pushing in so deep that your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl.

Joel’s hips are flush against your ass, the full length of him seated all the way inside of you—you can’t think, your mouth open in a silent cry. He’s filling you to the absolute brim, and it becomes evident your cup has truly runneth over.

He was right, though. It did fit.

A shuddery breath escapes you. He only allows you a moment to get used to the new fullness before he’s pulling out until just the tip of him remains and snapping his hips forward hard enough it knocks the air from your lungs—this is how you learn what it’s like to really be fucked, and fucked good.

His fingers dig into the skin on your waist, pulling you back as he thrusts forward at a pace that has you lightheaded, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids each time he presses against that heavenly spot inside you.

Warmth grows in your belly, the sounds from the TV overshadowed by the filthy cacophony of skin hitting skin and the audible wetness of his cock working in and out of your used cunt—he’s grunting with each stroke, your moans stuttering from the onslaught.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.

It’s a struggle to gather your thoughts and form a response with how good he’s fucking you.

A palm lands on the side of your ass in a loud smack, the sweet sting causing you to clench around him and whimper.

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he says. “Is this what you wanted?”

All you can gasp out is a single word. “Yes!”

“Am I fuckin’ you good?”

“Yes!”

He’s pounding into you at a near-brutal pace, the fire inside you only getting hotter as each second passes.

“Look at me,” he orders.

It takes everything in you to turn your head and look over your shoulder. Joel is a sight to behold—a flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, the sweat on his skin making it glisten under the lamp’s light, and his hair sticking wetly to his forehead. His eyes are heavy-lidded and glazed over, his jaw clenched.

He slows, his gaze on yours.

“You wanna be mine?” he asks.

“Yes.”

The moment your answer leaves your lips, he’s blanketing your back, holding himself up with a hand on the couch, the other going under you to palm your breast and tweak your stiff nipple with his fingers.

He lightly bites your earlobe, his facial hair scratching your cheek when he kisses it.

“I’m gonna make you come,” he says through heavy breaths. “Then I’m gonna fuck you full of me—you want that?”

A shiver moves through you, and you gulp.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

His hand smooths down your front over your stomach to between your legs, where he starts circling your clit with two fingers. It’s like a live wire along your spine, electricity sparking in your core—that added to the sensations of his cock splitting you open and pushing in and out of you has you rocketing toward your release.

“You gonna come for me?” His hot breaths fan over your ear. “You gonna let me feel you come all over my cock? Come on, let me have it—come for me.”

Joel’s bent over you, fucking into you harder and faster, his fingers deliciously swirling around your throbbing bud as he grunts in your ear with every thrust, all of it driving you higher and higher to your end.

You’re so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you falling over the edge—the muscles in your belly pull tight, your orgasm ripping through you, gasping Joel’s name. He sucks in a breath when your pussy clamps down on him, then loudly groans, continuing to fuck you through your high, and doesn’t stop—his fingers keep up their assault on your clit, and his hips snap into you in quick, short bursts that extend your high. You come, and come, and come to the point your arms give out, and your body shakes and twitches from all of the pleasure coursing through it.

When you think you can’t take any more, relief washes over you that Joel follows suit. With one last thrust, he buries himself all the way to the hilt inside you as he falls forward, his front framing your back, his teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder. He comes with a dirty, rumbling groan—you feel his dick thicken and pulse, hot spurts of his spend filling you. He grinds his hips, fucking it as deep as it will go, then stills.

The movie’s ending credits are playing, hearing the music and your and Joel’s ragged breaths as you both come down. He’s at the same awkward angle as you, with your hips up and your faces down—his sweaty chest is pressed to your back, your bodies sticking together everywhere they touch. It’s not the most comfortable position, but with how your limbs tremble, you’re not entirely sure you can even move.

You asked him to ruin you, and oh boy, did he deliver—you’re absolutely, positively ruined. It kills you that after whatever this night is, you’ll have to go back to subpar sex with guys who couldn’t find the clit if they were given a map and detailed directions. This is the second time tonight that you fear you’ve made a grave mistake hooking up with Joel, and the post-sex clarity is not helping the situation at all.

What were you thinking?

That’s easy; you weren’t. Or, at the very least, you weren’t thinking with your brain. Your pussy took the lead on this one, and it looks like she’s gotten you into a bit of a situation.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Joel’s arm wraps around your middle, and he turns you two onto your sides, the couch just barely wide enough to fit you both.

“Tha’s better,” Joel slurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. His hand over your stomach feels around until he finds your smaller one, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest—oh, he’s cuddling with you. It’s unexpected and nice. You close your eyes and enjoy this taste of intimacy.

Many minutes pass before he mumbles something you can’t make out.

“I’m sorry,” you start and are immediately embarrassed by how hoarse and scratchy your voice sounds from all the sounds you made tonight. You clear your throat and try again, “I’m sorry—what did you say?”

He turns his face so it’s out of your hair.

“I asked if you wanna stay over,” he says.

You smile. “Are you getting forgetful, Joel? You said I could stay over when I got here.”

“Fuckin’ smartass,” he grumbles, and you giggle. “What I meant was, do you wanna stay in my room? With me,” he clarifies.

“Only if you’re okay that I sleep naked—I’m not wearing my dress to bed.”

“Was kinda hopin’ you’d be naked.” He kisses your shoulder. “But if you’re more comfortable wearin’ somethin’, I can get you one of my t-shirts—it’s no big deal.”

“It baffles me that you’re single.”

“Why?”

“Uh, because you’re incredibly sweet, amazing in bed, a great father, very handsome, hardworking, and just an all-around catch. If I had the opportunity, and you know, there wasn’t the elephant in the room—” The fact he’s much older than you and one of your dad’s best friends. “—I’d date you in a heartbeat. If you ever give dating a shot again, you’re going to make one lucky woman very happy.”

“Fuck,” Joel groans, letting go of your hand to press his palm to his face. “What the hell am I doin’?”

That makes your stomach drop, and you frown—he’s regretting everything, and you can’t blame him. The post-sex clarity is a real bitch sometimes.

“Stressing for no reason,” you reply. You’re pretty sure you can walk, so you get up from the sofa, ignoring how wobbly your legs feel and his come leaking down your thigh. “Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask, looking toward the floor for your clothes. “You let me stay the night ‘cause you were worried about me driving home in the dark.” You carefully bend down to pick up your thong, followed by your bra and dress. “We watched Die Hard,” you continue, straightening to stand. “Then turned in for the night to our respective bedrooms. You’re a real stand-up guy for caring so much about your friend’s daughter’s safety.”

You can’t even look at him, focusing instead on the TV where the Pearl Harbor DVD’s menu is on screen.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Tryin’ to pretend nothin’ happened.”

“You clearly wish nothing happened, so nothing happened—where’s the bathroom?” You need to clean up, and you’re tempted to just leave altogether.

“Up the stairs, second door on the right—when the hell did I say I wished nothin’ happened?”

“You didn’t have to. Your ‘what the hell am I doin’?’ was enough for me to get it.” You hug your clothes closer to your body. “Anyways, thanks for tonight. I think I’m just gonna use the bathroom and get out of here. I don’t want you to worry, so I’ll stay at that cheap motel by the highway.” The sign said it was twenty-something dollars a night, and you can swing that. You start heading toward the stairs.

“Hey, stop.” You don’t. You keep walking, willing the unshed tears in your eyes not to fall.

Why are you so upset? You’re well aware that this can only be a one-time thing. It was something fun and sexy where you got to fuck the older, unattainable guy you’ve been crushing on for a while. It wasn’t anything serious, and couldn’t be anything serious, because there’s no future for you two together. Not when he’s a good friend of your father’s. That kills any chance of having a relationship with Joel.

What hurts is he regrets it and wishes it never happened—you’re a mistake, and who wants to be someone’s mistake?

His heavy footsteps sound behind you. “Darlin’, stop,” he says again, and you continue ignoring him. Fingers latch around your bicep and lightly tug. “Please, stop for a second. Talk to me.” Finally, you do as he’s requested, standing still in front of the staircase. He turns you to look at him in his big brown eyes, his hands holding your arms.

“I don’t wish nothin’ happened,” he says. “You were talkin’ about how if things were different, you’d date me, but since they are the way they are, you won’t. I was thinkin’ to myself ‘what the hell am I doin’ wishin’ you’d change your mind,’ when I know it’s for the best.”

“Oh—really?”

Hope swells in your chest, butterflies fluttering around in your tummy.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Tell me you want nothin’ more to do with me, and I’ll grab you a towel and some of my clothes so you can wash up and retire to the guest room unless you’re truly set on stayin’ in a motel. In that case, I’ll pay for your room somewhere safer and much nicer, so I know you’ll be okay. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and I’ll take you up to my bedroom so we can shower, either together or separately, whatever you’re comfortable with. Then we can get into my bed where we can talk and figure things out.”

It sounds like he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing, either, and that makes you so happy you let your clothes fall to the floor to throw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. Joel groans, his arm sliding behind your back, hugging you closer to him, his other hand cradling your cheek. Suddenly, he’s backing you up until your heels hit the first step, and he guides you to sit on a higher one, Joel kneeling on a lower stair to be at the right height that his hips slot between your thighs when he lays you back. He licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

With how good he made you feel tonight, how wanted, you need more of him. There’s a looming fear in the back of your mind that this is too good to be true—that you’ll never be with him like this again, which makes you desperate for him. Your hand snakes its way between your bodies, taking his half-hard cock into your palm, slowly stroking it—a low rumble comes from the back of Joel’s throat. He gets his hand to the juncture of your thighs, sliding his fingers through the puffy lips of your sex, gathering your arousal and his come on his fingertips to rub at your swollen clit.

“You’re mine,” he says into your lips.

“I’m yours,” you answer.

This is how you end up fucking on the stairs, Joel thrusting into you at a pace that has your toes curled and your fingers gripping his ass—your spine tingles from his mouth exploring your neck, mapping out the spots that make you gasp and moan, and you’re in heaven.

A door slams shut on the other side of the railing, and your eyes fly open.

“Hey, Asshole!” a man calls.

Joel’s hand covers your mouth, and you watch the intruder walk through the dining room to the kitchen without seeing you.

“I brought over pizza so you can stop bein’ a sad and lonely sonofabitch!”

Joel immediately pulls out and gets off you, using his strength to help you flip over. “Upstairs,” he whispers, tapping you on the hip, and you go as quickly and quietly as you can with Joel following.

You make it to the second-story landing, and he grabs your hand, tugging you all the way down the hall into what you know is his bedroom by how it smells like him. He closes the door and locks it before beelining to his dresser, roughly pulling out one drawer from which he grabs a burgundy t-shirt, then another that he gets a pair of stretchy gray sweatpants.

“Is this a dress?!” Is yelled from downstairs. “Do you have a girl over?! Who’d wanna fuck your sorry ass?!”

Surprisingly, the clothes in Joel’s hands are not for him; he shoves them into your arms and ushers you over to his bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” he says, flicking on the light, the fan automatically turning on. “It’s Tommy. Stay in here, and I’ll kick him out.” Obnoxiously loud footsteps are coming up the stairs, and he has to take a deep breath, his eyes to the sky like he’s praying God will smite his brother right this second. “Lord, give me strength,” he breathes.

“Where would you even meet a girl?!” Tommy asks from the hallway. “All you do is work—you never go out.”

Joel pecks you on the lips. “I’ll be right back—stay in here,” he tells you again, and this time, he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

There’s banging on the bedroom door, and your ears perk up as you put on the clothes.

“Go home, Tommy,” he says.

“Not until I know who this pretty dress belongs to.”

“Give me that—it’s none of your fuckin’ business. Leave.”

“Come on, Joel—we know the same people. Did you finally give in to Nikki? She’s wanted to go out with you for a long fuckin’ time.”

“No, and it’s still none of your fuckin’ business who I have in the house I pay for. So, get goin’, or I’m gonna make you go.”

“You can be a real dick, Joel. Why are you bein’ so fuckin’ secretive?”

“Do I ask about who you take home from the bar?”

“No, but—”

“Exactly,” Joel interrupts. “I don’t give a fuck what you do in your spare time, and I sure as hell don’t need to tell you what I do in mine, so leave, Tommy—I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“With how fuckin’ grouchy you are, I don’t think you got laid at all—I’m gonna get goin’ ‘cause you clearly need the company of a woman. Bye, mystery woman with the pretty dress hidin’ in Joel’s bathroom!” he yells. “Hopefully you can cheer this fucker up! Enjoy the pizza!”

It goes quiet, and you think Joel left the room, too. You can’t go anywhere, so you decide to take in your surroundings—the bathroom is cleaner than you’d expect from a single man, you have to put the toilet seat down when you pee, and as you’re washing your hands, you notice there’s only one toothbrush in a cup.

You know you shouldn’t snoop, but you pull open the medicine cabinet and find an extra tube of toothpaste, some Tylenol, Ibuprofen, a thing of pain relief cream, then a shelf with a few medicine bottles that intrigues you—prescription pain pills, antidepressants, and heartburn medication. No red flags, but you’re a little worried about how much pain he’s in. You close the cabinet, and soft knocking on the bathroom door makes you jump.

“You can come out,” Joel’s muffled voice says. “He’s gone.”

Walking over to the door, you open it, Joel leaning against the doorframe in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants he must’ve put on before talking to Tommy.

He sighs. “So, that was my brother.”

“Seems nice—if I remember correctly, he’s younger, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That explains how annoying he is.”

He smiles, and an amused huff leaves him. “Yeah, he’s annoyin’ alright.”

“We have the house to ourselves?”

“We do—I walked him out myself.”

You grin. “Wonderful.” You grab a fistful of his shirt. “Because I think you said something about us showering together, and I’d like to do that right now, then go eat pizza—I’ve somehow worked up an appetite,” you tell him and pull him forward; he happily comes your way with a smirk.

“Worked up an appetite, huh?” he asks, his eyes on your mouth.

“Yes. No clue how.”

He closes the distance, his lips almost touching yours, when he replies, “Let me remind you how,” and kisses you.

An hour later, you’re walking down the stairs clean and in your borrowed clothes.

“Can we eat then go to bed?” you ask, through a yawn. “I had classes today, and that long ass drive, plus all the sex. I’m so damn tired.”

Joel’s behind you in just his sweatpants.

“I’m fuckin’ tired, too. That sounds good to me.”

The only lights on downstairs are the lamps in the living room. You walk into the dark kitchen, Joel flipping on the light as he follows, and you head for the stove where the pizza is, popping open the box to see it’s pepperoni.

“I’ll grab us some plates,” Joel says, rubbing your upper arms. He kisses the top of your head before stepping over to a cabinet.

Turning around, you’re about to ask Joel where the cups are when the dining room light comes on, Tommy standing by the switch. You gasp in shock; Joel’s immediate reaction is to grab a knife from the knife block and get between you and the unwanted visitor—it takes him a second to recognize it’s his brother.

“Goddammit, Tommy!” Joel shouts and slams the butcher knife onto the countertop. “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?!”

“No,” his brother answers, shaking his head, and he looks a little too amused. “But you sure the hell are! Her?!” He points at you and has the audacity to laugh. “Oh, god, Joel,” he says through his glee and grabs the back of a chair, his other hand on his chest as he chuckles. “Her daddy is gonna kill you—you’re fucked!”

Joel sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, perching a palm on his hip. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says. “I’m a dead man walking.”

“You are!” Tommy calms down, and his shit-eating grin annoys you. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” he asks. “I mean, I know what you were thinkin’. I just can’t get over you not only robbin’ the fuckin’ cradle, but bangin’ your best buddy’s daughter. How long has whatever this is—” He gestures at you both. “—been goin’ on?”

“It just happened tonight—I don’t need you lecturin’ me on right and wrong. I know it’s a fucked up situation.”

A fucked up situation? Ouch. The comment has you crossing your arms over your chest, staring at the floor.

“Fucked up is right, and I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how you’re gonna get out of it. Her daddy finds out about this, and he’s gonna shoot you deader than dead.”

“I told you I didn’t want you lecturin’ me.”

Tommy puts his hands up. “Hey, I’m not lecturin’. I’m just statin’ the facts. I wanna make sure you know this thing between you two could get you killed. You’ve got a daughter, Joel—what would you do in this situation?”

“Woah,” you interrupt, moving to stand beside Joel—Tommy’s comment about Sarah is a fucking nuke you need to try and hopefully defuse. “First of all, I just want to point out that I am a consenting adult and can fuck whoever I want. Second, I need to set the record straight and say that my dad isn’t going to kill anyone. He’ll be mad as hell if he finds out, but he isn’t going to commit murder because, truth be told, he’s never given a fuck about my life choices. I’d also like to add that this is kinda his fault for not having me visit more often because now Joel and I are pretty much strangers, and this whole thing isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“It’s still pretty bad, honey,” Tommy replies, his attention turning to you, smiling.

“Maybe, but it’s also nobody’s business who I fuck.”

“Sure, but this person you fucked is one of your daddy’s best friends whose—no offense—way too old for you.”

“Why does everyone keep callin’ me old?” Joel grumbles.

Tommy looks at his brother. “‘Cause you are, you old man.” He suddenly looks like he just realized something. “Wait a goddamn minute,” Tommy says. “Joel, are you havin’ a midlife crisis? You’re around the age people have those, right? It’d make sense why you’d risk your life to fuck her.”

“Get out, Tommy,” Joel replies, pointing toward the front door. “I’ve had enough of you.”

His younger brother pouts. “‘Cause I called you old?”

“Out.”

“Fine.” He slowly starts walking toward the hallway that leads to the front door. “I’ll get out of your hair so the two of you can enjoy the rest of your night. Bye!”

The door loudly closes as he leaves.

Well, you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen now. Between the comment about Sarah and the other things that had been said, you wouldn’t be surprised if Joel ends this. You might as well cut your losses and get it over with to save yourself from more heartbreak.

Your eyes are on the ground, the first tear falling down your cheek. “After all that, I know whatever this is is probably over,” you quietly say. “But is there a chance I can still sleep in your bed with you tonight? And if you’re willing, have you hold me?”

He turns and pulls you into his arms.

“Yeah, you can sleep with me,” he answers and kisses your hair. “But I’m gonna need you to stop.”

You lean back to look at him with watery eyes. “Stop what?”

A sad smile is on his lips. “Jumpin’ to conclusions without talkin’ to me. You’ve already got one foot out the door, and I haven’t even opened it.”

“It’s just everything Tommy said.”

He lightly squeezes your biceps. “Tommy was bein’ a little shit. You were right when you said this isn’t as bad as it sounds, but you gotta be honest with me about somethin’.”

“What?” you ask.

His hands come up to hold your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Are you positive your daddy won’t kill me? I’ve got Sarah to think about, and even though I like you a lot, I’m not gonna risk dyin’ to be happy.”

The sweetest man and the best father.

You think about it for a second, and the sad truth is you can’t imagine your dad killing anyone for you—he doesn’t love you that much. He doesn’t love you to the same degree that Joel loves Sarah. With how easily Joel grabbed a knife to protect you, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d kill for his daughter without hesitation.

“He’ll be pissed off, but he isn’t going to kill you. We also don’t need to tell him anything unless this turns into something. We can keep it to ourselves for now.”

He hums in agreement. “You know, if you wanted, you could start comin’ here to do your laundry...”

You smile. “How will you explain that to Sarah?”

“That I’m helpin’ you out, which is true. Plus, I’ve got the guest room.”

“Uh huh, the guest room that I’ll sleep in?”

“Yes.” He nods.

“Alone?”

“I sleepwalk.”

You snort. “Stop it.” You playfully push his chest. “Sarah is not gonna believe you sleepwalked into the guest room.”

He snatches your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. “Who said anythin’ about Sarah knowin’ I’m in the guest room, or you bein’ in my room for that matter, while she’s sleepin’? There are also nights like tonight she spends with friends.”

“You really want me to hang out here?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have company that isn’t Tommy.”

“I believe that. As long as I’m not a bother, I’ll do my laundry here.”

He smiles. “Not a bother, and you can wash your clothes tomorrow and stay another night. You could even stay over Sunday, too, since you have Monday off—you’re more than welcome.”

You loop your arms around his neck. “Yes, Joel. I will spend my long weekend with you.”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “Good.”

Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #wheresarizona writes #joel miller fanfiction

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hopefullhearts · 5 months ago

Text

Sickeningly Sweet [Scott Miller x Reader - Twisters]

summary: You are Tyler Owens' childhood best friend and member of his storm chasing crew. A storm outbreak means you and the gang cross paths with Storm Par on more than one occasion, and your sweet southern charm drives Scott crazy (in more than one way).

content warnings: somewhat heated kissing, no use of y/n, light name-calling/teasing, not proofread/bad writing (I have not written a fanfic in forever), bad taste in candy, & i think that is all!

word count: 3.5k

a/n: I have not written or posted on tumblr in SO long but I saw Twisters for the glenn powell craze and left with a scott/david corenswet obsession and these thoughts must come out of my head.

Shoutout to @hederasgarden and @sailor-aviator for leading the charge for the Scott girlies. All of their writings and drabbles inspired me to write this one, so check them out!

If people like this I might do a smutty part 2! I don't mind writing smut I just feel like it's not very good hahaha but let me know what you think!

You heavily resented the idea that guys and girls could not just be friends, because you'd be damned if Tyler Owens wasn't the best friend you ever had.

You met on the playground in Kindergarten. A boy pushed you off a swing, Tyler defended your honor, and the rest was history.

Tyler's overprotective streak made you view him like the brother you never had, and that's how your relationship remained. He was family, and that was that.

Tyler had always been interested in tornadoes, more specifically, how to track and predict them. You, on the other hand, hated science, including weather, but you loved the thrill of the chase.

In college, you studied marketing while Tyler studied meteorology. So, when Tyler had the idea to start streaming his storm chases, you were right there with him to help grow his brand.

Tyler knows he would be stupid not to credit you with all his success. You set up his streaming account, you edited all the clips and drone footage to post to his social media after the fact, and you even gave him the idea for the "Tornado Wrangler" nickname.

Now that everything was off the ground, you mostly put together streaming highlights and designed the merch, but you were right there in the backseat for every single chase, soaking up all the thrills.

This particular storm outbreak was expected to be a big one, so the whole crew strapped in for a week of bad weather, cheap motel rooms, and of course, a few run-ins with other chasers, including the guys from Storm Par.

"Storm Par's here." You said, gesturing to the fleet of white vans parked at the gas station you had just pulled up to.

"Of course they are." Tyler sighed. "There's probably going to be a lot of damage done by these storms for them to swoop in on. Just ignore them."

"No, we should be polite." You chastised him. "I'm gonna go say hi. Will you get me a cherry coke please?"

Tyler fought back an eye-roll, but nodded with a smile as you both got out of the car. "Of course."

Like everyone else in the crew, the Storm Par guys got on your last nerve. They were all a bunch of Ivy League grads who thought a more expensive degree made them better than everyone else.

However, being raised by your Mama, the epitome of Southern grace and charm, you always put a smile on your face and treated them with kindness. You even occasionally brought them food or coffee if you ran into them in the aftermath of a storm.

And even though you were blissfully unaware of the fact, this drove Scott absolutely mad.

"Hi Scott, Javi." You said cheerfully to the two boys in charge.

Scott replied with a grunt, but Javi was quick to greet you with genuine enthusiasm. "Hey! How are you?"

"I'm doing well." You nodded, smoothing your hands over your athleisure skirt. "Excited for a good chase today. How about you guys?"

"Us too." Javi nodded. "We're hoping to finally get some solid data collection today."

"Ah." You nodded, unsure what to say. You hated the idea of what they were collecting data for, but Javi seemed like a nice enough guy, and Tyler ripped on them enough for the both of you.

"Something on your mind there, princess?" Scott finally spoke, glancing away from his tablet to look down on you (literally and figuratively).

You rolled your eyes. While you would normally love to be called a princess, it always sounded like an insult coming from Scott, his voice always laced with a touch of venom.

"No, nothing at all." You smiled. "Just wondering if we'll see you guys in the aftermath if there's any damage done?"

"Why? Are you looking to increase your t-shirt sales?"

You bit your tongue, doing your best to hold your composure and not let him get to you.

"Nope, just trying to figure out if we need to make some extra to-go boxes for you guys." You decided to focus your gaze on Javi instead, finding him less intimidating.

Javi opened his mouth to speak, but Scott beat him to the punch. "I think we can find food on our own, thanks."

You took a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. "Okay, well, the offer always stands if you change your mind."

Javi smiled and nodded. "As much as I want to see a good storm today, let's hope we don't have a ton of damage clean up."

You smiled. You knew he had a heart.

"That's something we both can agree on." You grinned. "Stay safe out there you guys!"

With that, you turned and walked away. Scott watched you go, your hair and skirt blowing side to side in the wind.

"Stay safe out there you guys." Scott mocked you under his breath.

"Yo, you don't always have to be a jerk to her, you know."

Scott gave him an unamused look. "She comes out here with her little boyfriend, selling his t-shirts and shit, and then skips over here like we're the best of friends with her thick southern accent. It's all fake."

"For one, I don't think Owens is her boyfriend." Javi corrected. "And two, I think she's just a genuinely nice person. She always says hello, even when everyone else in their crew ignores us like the plague."

"Whatever." Scott mumbled.

As you reached the truck, you took the ice-cold Coca-Cola bottle from Tyler's outstretched hand.

"Thank you!" You said excitedly, twisting the cap off to take a sip.

"How are dumb and dumber?" Tyler teased.

"Javi was nice." You informed him. "Scott was... there."

"Ah, yes." Tyler laughed. "Word on the street is he's a man of many words."

"Right." You agreed sarcastically. "But, when he does speak to me, he always calls me princess, and it drives me crazy."

"In what way?" Tyler said, failing to hold back a smirk.

It took you a moment to realize what he was implying, but when you did, you were mortified,

"Tyler Owens!" You gasped, your face flushing red with embarrassment.

""I'm just teasing you! You make it too easy." He laughed loudly. "In my defense, he looks like exactly like every boyfriend you've ever had."

Your face got even warmer, because he was exactly right. You had a weakness for tall, muscular, dark-haired men, and you especially loved a man who was a challenge.

"That is...irrelevant." You said, covering your face in your hands out of pure embarrassment.

Tyler held his hands up in surrender, as you rushed to talk about anything but Scott. "Let's just figure out what storm we're going after, you jerk." You insulted Tyler, but the smile on your face was ear to ear.

Scott watched the interaction from afar, and his chest twisted at your sickeningly sweet smile. Even if you weren't Owens' girlfriend, your closeness was evident. He ignored the burning feeling that was rising within him, not wanting to question why it was there in the first place.

Tornadoes were scary, but trying to understand how he felt about you? Terrifying.

"Alright, boss man, which storm are we chasing?" Javi pulled him out of his thoughts with a hand clapped on his shoulder, and he finally pulled his gaze away from your smile, the sound of your laughter fading into the background.

The storm was bad.

It hit a small town of about 3,000 people, and you estimated based on the initial damage scene that it was an EF3 at best, maybe even an EF4.

You were currently handing out anything that might be helpful to families who had been impacted by the tornado - blankets, water, heat lamps. pre-made sandwiches and cookies. You tried to offer them any comfort you could with a smile and hug, but you understood the devastation they felt all too well.

In the early days, you would try to help with the damage cleanup, but Tyler insisted that you stay back at the camper and talk to the families.

At first, you were insulted, and you thought that Tyler was insinuating you weren't strong enough to move heavy tree limbs or pieces of drywall. You finally asked him about it one day, and he laughed.

"Absolutely not!" He insisted. "You just have this energy around you that's calming, and these families need that. Your empathy and kindness are doing much more for them right now than cleaning up a bunch of rubble would."

You had never thought of it like that, but once Tyler pointed it out, it became your mission to be the solace that these families in crisis needed.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs. Smith?" You asked, rubbing the arms of a middle-aged woman who you had been speaking to for a few minutes now.

"No, thank you." She sniffled. "I really appreciate you guys being here. God bless you."

You smiled, giving her another hug. "Please let us know if there's anything more we can do to help."

She nodded, walking away to join her family, who were staring at the remains of their house.

You pushed back tears, feeling silly that this never got any easier for you, but also focused on being the anchor that these folks needed.

Scott saw you before you saw him. He watched you from afar as you did your work. He watched you force a smile and hold these people as they cried. He also watched you look up to blink back the tears before taking a deep breath and moving on to the next.

And damn if it didn't drive him nuts.

This job is easier when he doesn't get involved with the people impacted. It's easier to pretend not to care. But watching you pour your heart out to strangers, just because it's the right thing to do? It made his heart jump, and that scared him.

Ignoring the people involved and ignoring his feelings for you had become increasingly more difficult with every chase.

"Scott!" You called, approaching him with a styrofoam container in your hand.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself as you literally bounced over to him.

How the hell does someone look this good after taking on a tornado?

"Here." You offered him the container. "It's just a ham and cheese sandwich and a cookie."

"I'm really not hungry." He responded.

"Seriously?" You asked, not buying it. "We've all been chasing since 10 AM and it's nearly 8, you have to be hungry."

Scott shrugged, trying to hold back the things he really wanted to say.

"Fine." You sighed. "We're right over here if you change your mind."

"Yeah, I know princess. It's hard to miss you being the town's savior over there."

Scott watched you visibly retract and he internally screamed as his heart dropped. You probably hated him, but it didn't matter anyway. You were far too sweet for him, so putting a wedge between the two of you seemed to be the smartest way to outrun his feelings.

"Wow." You spoke, your voice much smaller and shakier than usual. "I knew you were sarcastic and maybe even a little mean, but I never thought you were actually cruel. So, thanks, for enlightening me."

And with that, you turned and strutted off. This time, you failed to fight back the tears as you returned to the camper.

And to your horror, Tyler was there, taking a break from clean up for some water.

When Tyler sees you cry, his overprotective streak comes out instantly, and right now you didn't want to be protected, because you were so embarrassed that he finally got to you. You were even more embarrassed that you thought that just maybe, he might be a good person under that scowl and hard facade.

"Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" Tyler rushed up to meet you.

You nodded, trying to stop sniffling. "I'm fine."

Tyler looked behind you to see Scott watching you closely, with a look that almost mimicked longing, and he quickly put two and two together.

"Let me handle this." He insisted.

You shook your head in protest. "No, Tyler, please, he thinks I'm a waste of time anyways, it's not worth it."

"Trust me, he doesn't," Tyler reassured you. "Let me handle this, and if it goes badly, I'll edit all the stream highlights for the next two weeks, okay?"

"Deal." You nodded.

You truly did trust him more than anyone in your life, so you opted to go inside the camper and dry up your tears while he went to speak to Scott. You would let Tyler handle it, but no way were you going to stand there and watch, looking like a puppy who just got kicked.

"Coming to defend your girlfriend's honor?" Scott said sarcastically, trying to mask any emotion he was feeling.

"Dude, seriously." Tyler glared at him. "If you want her attention being a complete and total asshole is not the way you get it."

"Is that what you think? That I want her 'attention'?" He said, framing the last word in air quotes.

"Yeah, I do." Tyler nodded. "I saw the look you gave her as she walked away."

"Okay, so what?" Scott shrugged. "You might be surprised to know I am human and I didn't mean to make her cry."

"Sure." Tyler nodded. "So, what about all the other times I've caught you staring at her, hm?"

Scott stayed silent, stunned speechless.

"Ah, you thought you were better at hiding it, didn't you?" Tyler said with a smug grin. "Every time we end up at the same gas station, restaurant, bar, or motel, your eyes follow her nearly the whole time. And don't even get me started on the holes you burn into my head when I'm talking to her."

"Alright, fine." Scott snapped angrily. "Here to rub it in my face then?"

Tyler sighed in frustration. "No."

"Then what?"

"I'm going to give you a piece of advice."

"Why?" Scott scoffed. "It's no secret that we aren't friends."

"I know her better than anyone else, do you want my help or not?" Tyler asked, his patience nearing its limit.

Scott didn't protest this time.

"Look, no matter what I think about you, you're pretty much exactly her type," Tyler said, much to Scott's surprise. "So if you want her, apologize and tell her how you feel."

"She's not going to feel the same, and she deserves much better than me." Scott retorted. "C'mon Owens, you know what we do. When she comes floating into these broken towns like a heaven-sent angel, I'm collecting data for the devil."

"That doesn't have to be a permanent problem." Tyler pointed out. "Plus, she likes a challenge, and she's definitely brave enough to think she can fix you."

That cracked a smile from both of them, followed by a moment of silence.

"218." Tyler said.

"What?"

"That's the room she's staying in tonight." Tyler said, starting to walk away. "Apologize."

Scott nodded, beginning to formulate a plan on how the hell he was going to get you to forgive him.

You were snug under your blanket in the motel room watching reruns of Modern Family when the knock came.

You sighed and got up, not bothering to check the peephole as you assumed it was just Tyler coming to talk about the day's events.

So when you opened the door to see Scott standing there, you couldn't be more surprised.

"What are you doing here?" You said quietly, nearly breathless at the sight of him.

It wasn't the first time you had seen him outside of that stupid Storm Par white jumpsuit, but it was the first time you had seen him in gray sweatpants and a tight black long-sleeve shirt that clung to his muscles in a way that you could only describe as sinful.

He towered over you, leaning against the frame of the doorway, and you nearly shuddered when you looked up to meet the intense gaze in his eyes.

"I brought you something. As an apology for being an ass earlier today."

"Oh, and what did you bring for all the other times?" You spat back, no longer in the mood to play nice with him.

"I deserve that." He sighed. "Can I come in?"

"Depends." You responded, and he raised an eyebrow. "What did you bring me?"

He handed you a plastic bag, and you opened it to find a Cherry Coke, Sour Patch Kids, and a Honey Bun.

All of your favorites.

"How did you know what I like?" You asked, curious to know if Tyler was behind this.

"You always get some combination of the three at any local gas station." He shrugged.

He remembered because the first time he saw you buy all three he physically rolled his eyes, because, of course, you would buy snacks just as sickeningly sweet as you.

"I didn't know you paid this much attention to me." You said softly.

"Yeah." Scott inhaled a sharp breath. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I please come in?"

You opened the door, inviting him in with the gesture. The door shut behind you, and there was a brief moment of silence between you two.

"I'm sorry, for being a jerk today and every other time I'm around you." Scott started, visibly nervous as he ran a hand through his hair. "I wish I had a better explanation for why I've been such an ass."

"Yeah, so let's hear it." You said, hands on your hips. "Because I have been nothing but nice to you, even though I don't like who you work for and what they stand for."

"I know." He nodded. "At first, I thought you were being fake or sarcastic because it was unfathomable to me that you would be nice to us when you have absolutely no reason to be."

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"But once I learned more about you, and I realized you were being genuinely nice," Scott took a deep breath, building up all his courage. "It knocked me off my feet."

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused at what he was getting at

"I spend most of my time pretending that I don't care about the people that are devastated by all of this, because it's easier that way. But watching you bear your heart and soul to all of these people, just because you can?" Scott scoffed. "It makes it hard to pretend like I don't care about them, or more importantly, about you."

"You care about me?"

"I do." He nodded. "And I was a jerk to you because I thought it would be easier to make you hate me than it would be to admit that I have feelings for you, when you're far too good for me."

His admission stunned you. You can feel your heart thumping out of your chest as you look into his eyes, which look painstakingly vulnerable.

"I completely understand if you don't feel the same way, but I couldn't outrun these feelings anymore, and I wanted to at least let you know that I'm sorry."

The room fell silent as you processed everything he just told you. Scott was panicking inside, waiting for what felt like years for you to say something, anything.

"Do you know why I was always nice to you?" You asked him. "Because I was hoping that somewhere in there you had a good side. I needed to know that you had a heart before I could admit to myself that I felt drawn to you."

"Do you still? Feel drawn to me?"

You nodded. Stepping closer to him so that you were nearly face to face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please." You nodded desperately, your words barely above a whisper.

His lips were on yours in a flash, and the pure intensity of the kiss nearly knocked you off your feet. It was heated and rough, but somehow gentle and passionate at the same time. His thumb grazed your cheek as he pulled you closer, and every spot his fingers touched made your skin feel like it was on fire. You couldn't get enough of him.

Once he knew you were comfortable, he took the liberty of exploring you more. His tongue slipped into your mouth gently and his teeth caught your bottom lip, causing a small whimper to come from the back of your throat.

Scott groaned at the sound, letting his mind imagine (not for the first time) all of the sounds he could pull from you.

When the two of you finally pulled away for air, he kept you close, his hands ghosting under your chin around your neck, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"You taste just as sweet as I thought you would," Scott said with a smirk.

"Shut up and kiss me again."

#scott twisters #scott twisters x reader #twisters x reader #twisters #twisters movie #twisters 2024 #scott miller x reader #scott miller #scott miller x you

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willowsnook · 2 months ago

Text

Concerned (LN) pt. 2

lando norris x neighbor!reader

pt. 1 here

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

“Hey superstar,” you call out to Lando as you see him heading in to your building.

“What’s up?” He asks with a smile, and you fall into step with him towards the elevator.

“Not a lot,” you said. “Just getting ready to get out of this country tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah, where are you going?”

“Vegas.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you going to the Grand Prix?”

You nodded with an easy smile, “Yeah, heading out a little early to hang with some college friends, but then I’ll be there Saturday.”

“Vegas is far; I’m surprised you’re going,” he commented and you gave him a weird look.

“You know I’m from the US muppet,” you said, and he gave you an amused look.

“Did you just call me a muppet?” He teased. “That’s my word.”

“Yeah, I’ve been really getting into watching Twitch streams, guess I’m picking up on your lingo,” you said nonchalantly but with a mischievous look. Lando froze as you mentioned it, thinking back to the recent stream where he talked about you.

“Oh?” He laughed nervously and your smirk grew wider.

“Yeah, thanks for the shoutout by the way,” you said,his face instantly flushed. “I’ll see you in Vegas, babe.”

You left him in the elevator and walked back to your apartment, giggling. Torturing him was amusing and you didn’t feel that bad about it since you shared some of the thoughts he had about you.

———————————————————-

A week in Vegas was exactly what you needed, especially because of how much you missed your friends. After three days of clubbing, you were exhausted and running on fumes and RedBull to make it to the race. Only one of your friends could join you Saturday night, and you made it to the entrance a few hours before the race. A man scanned your tickets and turned to the sign, grabbing two special passes and handing them to you.

“What are these?” You asked and he gave you a weird look.

“VIP passes?” He asked and sighed as you still looked confused. “It looks like your tickets were upgraded, so you’ll have access to the paddock and paddock club.”

Your mind instantly thought about Lando and you smiled to yourself before pulling your friend along.

As you and your friend made your way through the bustling paddock, the excitement in the air was palpable. The roar of engines, the smell of fuel, and the buzz of anticipation filled your senses. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement, wondering if you'd run into Lando.

"This is insane," your friend whispered, wide-eyed as you passed by team garages and caught glimpses of drivers preparing for the race.

You nodded in agreement, still processing how you'd ended up with these VIP passes. As you rounded a corner, you nearly collided with a somewhat familiar face.

“Sorry!” The driver exclaimed, reaching out to steady you. He looked so familiar, but you couldn’t remember exactly who he was. “You are Lando’s friend.”

“Yeah, you’re his teammate, right?” You asked and he nodded, sticking out a hand.

“Oscar.”

“Y/n,” you replied smiling. “I’m surprised you recognized me since we’ve never met.”

“Let’s just say I’ve heard a lot about you,” Oscar said with a slight smirk and you laughed. Lando came into your line of sight, and you saw him look panicked as he watched Oscar talk to you.

"Oh, I bet you have," you said with a grin, glancing over at Lando, who was now making his way towards you with a mix of nervousness and excitement on his face.

"Hey, you made it!" Lando called out, trying to sound casual as he approached. "I see you've met Oscar."

"Yeah, we were just getting acquainted," you replied, enjoying the slight flush on Lando's cheeks. "Thanks for the upgrade, by the way. The paddock access is amazing."

Lando's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, uh, no problem. Glad you're enjoying it."

Oscar looked between the two of you with amusement. "Well, I should get going. Nice to meet you, Y/N. Enjoy the race!"

As Oscar walked away, you turned to Lando with a raised eyebrow. “Crazy how he knew who I was.”

“Crazy,” Lando mumbled and you laughed, grabbing his hand to pull him to meet your friend Maggie.

“Maggie is a big Ferrari fan,” you told him and he waved over to Carlos, who was walking by. Carlos came over, looking down at Lando’s hand still in yours and smirking at his friend. Lando introduced all of you, and Maggie started to talk Carlos’s ear off, much to your amusement.

You turned back to Lando, talking softly, “Ready for today?”

“I think so,” he said. “I don’t really think there’s a shot at the championship anymore based on how the car was last night.”

“I’m sorry Lan,” you said and he gave you a small smile. “It’s still pretty impressive though, everything you’ve done this season and coming in second.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said simply. “Also I’m happy you’re talking to me and not your favorite driver.”

"I think my rankings might have changed." A slow smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He pulled you into his embrace, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm and comforting hug. You took in the familiar scent of his cologne and rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

“I have to go, but will I see you after the race?” He asked hopefully.

“You have my number,” you replied, and without thinking, you lifted your heels and pressed a short kiss on his cheek. “Good luck superstar.”

You watched the race from the hospitality suite, cheering with Maggie for the Ferrari drivers while being a little sad that Lando seemed to be having an okay race. Maggie left right after the race, having to drive back home that night, and you waited around the paddock while taking in the scene.

LN: still here?

Y/N: yeah, just wandering around.

LN: wander around to the McLaren garage?

Y/N: omw

Lando was out of his race suit and just in a pair of sweats and his team jacket. He looked tired but oddly enough, a little relieved. You hugged him when you saw him, congratulating him on a good race.

“You seem relieved,” you commented and he smiled down at you.

“I am a little, most of the pressure is off now,” he admitted.

“I’m happy for you then,” you declared.

“When are you heading back to Monaco?” He asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon, I’m definitely regretting not getting an earlier flight though. I just want to be back in my bed.”

“Why don’t you just come with me? I’m going to fly out in a couple of hours,” he offered.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” you said and he shook his head.

“It’s decided then,” he said and you smiled. You worked out the details and told him you’d meet him outside your hotel shortly. After heading back you packed up your suitcase and headed downstairs, waiting outside for Lando.

He pulled up in a big SUV and the driver got out to help you put your stuff in the trunk before you joined Lando in the back. You had both changed in to sweats and comfy wear, ready to sleep on the plane.

You had never been on a private jet before and were amazed, walking on the tarmac towards the plane. Lando looked over at you and smiled to himself, admiring how you still managed to look good in the night lights, even though he knew you were exhausted. Following him up the stairs, he motioned for you to sit next to him in a reclining seat connected to his. He handed you a blanket and you wrapped yourself up, eager to take off.

“Have fun today?” He asked from next to you and you nodded.

“Tons, it was fun to see you in your element,” you said and he smiled.

The plane took off and you watched out the window briefly before deciding you needed to sleep. While his plane was nice, you had trouble getting comfortable, shifting around trying to find a good spot.

“Can’t sleep?” Lando asked, noticing your restlessness.

“Not really,” you replied, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

He lifted up his blanket, gesturing for you to scoot closer. You hesitated momentarily, but the promise of comfort and warmth was too tempting to resist. Slowly, you shifted closer to Lando, settling into the crook of his arm as he draped the blanket over both of you.

"Better?" he murmured, his breath warm against your hair.

"Much," you sighed contentedly, feeling your muscles relax as you nestled against him.

The gentle hum of the plane's engines and Lando's steady heartbeat soon lulled you into a peaceful sleep. You weren't sure how long you'd been out when you felt a gentle shake on your shoulder.

"Y/N," Lando's voice was soft. "We're about to land."

You blinked groggily, realizing you were still cuddled up to him. "Oh, sorry," you mumbled, starting to move away.

"Don’t worry about it, I’m glad you could sleep,” he said and your heart fluttered.

It was a bright morning in Monaco and knowing you needed to beat jet lag you suggested grabbing something to eat, which Lando happily agreed to. Sitting across from him you found yourself oddly nervous about the shift you felt between you.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Lando asked and you looked up from the menu.

“Nothing, why?”

“Will you come to Qatar?”

“You want me to come to the race?”

Lando shifted nervously in his seat before meeting your eyes again.

“I’m calmer when you’re around,” he confessed and a small smile graced your face.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Lando's words. "I'd love to come," you said softly. "But are you sure? I don't want to be a distraction."

Lando reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "You're not a distraction. You're... you're my good luck charm," he said with a shy smile.

You laughed lightly, squeezing his hand. "Alright then, I guess I'm going to Qatar."

Finishing up breakfast, you finally made it back to your apartment, Lando lingering by the door as if he was deciding on what to say.

“I really like you,” he blurted out.

You felt your heart skip a beat at Lando's sudden confession. You stood there in stunned silence for a moment, taking in his earnest expression and the vulnerability in his eyes.

"I was wondering when you were going to say it," you finally replied, a smile spreading across your face. "I really like you too, Lando,"

Relief washed over his features, quickly replaced by a boyish grin. He took a step closer, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

Instead of answering, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was tender and sweet, with the promise of something more. When you finally pulled apart, you both wore matching smiles.

"I should probably go," Lando said reluctantly, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "But maybe we could hang out more before this weekend?”

“I suppose so,” you said with a grin and he smirked, leaning in to give you one last kiss before he left.

tags: @sltwins @honeyhyunn @heli991113 @sarx164 @kissatelier @dying-inside-but-its-classy @daniellef89x

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader

906 notes · View notes

sadprose-auroras · 19 days ago

Text

'Dulcissima' - Lucius Verus x Fem!Reader SMUT

dulcissima: Latin; my sweetest

A/N: My god. I saw Gladiator 2 yesterday, and this utter filth just came pouring out of me. A major shoutout to everyone who has BEEN writing for this character, I just had to contribute my little part. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Also take a shot every time I mention his big blue eyes and massive arms like hello I'm sorryyyy can you blame me!!! Also it starts off a bit shaky but trust me stick with it! I just can't not have some kind of backstory y'know

Word count: 3.3k

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut, breeding kink, brief size kink, cumplay, vague oral fixation, brief mentions of colonisation and injury

RATING: 18+. By clicking 'read more,' you are confirming that you are 18+

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Pressing the cloth against his skin made him wince, the muscles in his arm jump, and though you typically would not, you pulled it away.

“I’m sorry, but I must,” you said gently, and it occurred to him that nobody had treated him with such humanity and sweetness in such a long time. “It will be over soon.”

You continued to clean his wound as gently as possible, trying to ignore the heat emanating off his body simply due to your proximity. To distract him, you decided to make conversation. You were no stranger to what it felt like to be a slave. For your home to be destroyed, to be dehumanised in such a monstrous way.

“Hanno, where is your home?” you ask, as you continue to work.

“My home no longer exists,” he said with a level of defensiveness, eyes lowering to the floor. “Not as it once did.”

“My ancestral lineage hail from Aduatuci. My parents, my parents’ parents, have all been slaves. We do not know any different,” you said. “But I have dreams of a free Rome, one of hope. I have heard of it, and I know it can exist. If not for myself, then maybe for my future children.”

The lilt of hope in your voice softened his shoulders immediately, and he finally made eye contact with you.

“Numidia. Numidia was my home. I was taken as a slave as they took our land. I will not know peace until I see the world you speak of.” You nodded with understanding, carefully placing your hand on his knee. His demeanour was completely different to the survival instincts you witnessed in the stadium. He was kind, gentle.

“I believe we can fight for that kind of world,” you reassured.

Once you finished tending to him, you gathered your supplies and stood up to leave.

“May the Gods bless you, Hanno,” you said. He reached out to grab your hand as you turned to leave, a lightning bolt of electricity shooting through you. You turned back.

“Wait,” he said, letting your hand go. “Will you come and see me tonight? Please? I could do with some company.” The vulnerability in his bright eyes made your heart melt.

“Of course.”

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Somehow, yourself and Hanno developed a bond. It became a cycle. Each time he was forced into the arena, you watched with a pit in your stomach, tears welling in your eyes. Each time he was victorious, the relief that flooded through you was incomparable. Afterwards, you would tend to his wounds, talking about your hopes and dreams for the future. He would speak of his life back home, tell you all about his childhood and his father.

Each night, you would sneak into his cell to talk more. It had dawned on you that he was your only friend. The only person who had ever understood you.

One night after a horrifying battle in the arena, you snuck in to see him. Drawing your hood down, you nodded to the guard at the door who allowed you through. He had also become an ally to you both, closing the door behind you and moving away to give you some privacy.

Hanno, or Lucius, as he had recently revealed to you was his name by birth, was sitting with his hands clasped together, gazing thoughtfully at the floor, a crease between his brows. When he saw you, his leg ceased shaking and he stood up to embrace you. His strong arms engulfed you, and you immediately relaxed at the familiar feeling. The prospect of losing the familiarity between you was becoming more and more frightening to you. An air of heaviness clouded this particular visit. It felt different this time.

“I am so happy to see you,” he breathed out, pulling away, caressing your arm. Casual touches between you were comfortable and common, especially considering you were required to touch him all the time when tending to his injuries. And yet, every single time, a shiver ran down your spine. Likewise, every time he pulled away, you could feel yourself physically tense once again. He made you feel like you could breathe.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” you murmured, your bottom lip trembling, with what you weren’t entirely sure. It was like every time you saw him, your inhibitions were lowered more and more. You spoke without thinking, acted without speaking. It was dangerous.

“Oh now, dulcissima.” His hand caught at your chin, raising your head to look at him. Your heart immediately began racing rapidly, face flushing. The endearing term all the permission you finally needed, you gently cupped his face, gazing into his stark blue eyes, his long lashes. They stood out against the dirt on his face, the stained red blood smeared across his forehead. A shiver ran through you as his eyes flickered in pleasure.

“Han-“ you began. “Lucius,” you settled on for now. You could never decide what to call him. Either way, he was still the same. Strong, tender, solid, beautiful. Yours.

“I will always be yours, can you not see? This life and the next. You cannot lose me.”

Unable to come up with any eloquent answer, you decided actions were more powerful. As if your lips had a mind of their own, you raised up ever so slightly on your toes to kiss him, your lips slotting together perfectly. His kiss was soft and gentle as you tested out the feeling with one another, his hands moving to protectively cup the sides of your face, thumb stroking your cheek making you exhale through your nose. Your lips explored his, moving together in perfect harmony, coming up for air every few moments.

Your head was spinning with desire, everything else in the world fell away when he kissed you. His hands had moved into your hair, fingers threading through it, not quite pulling. Your hands seemed to have a mind of their own, running all over his bare back, sides and chest. The feeling of the hard muscle underneath your fingertips, especially when you could feel it jump with sensitivity, made you want to lick your wet tongue all over his body. You wanted, needed, to devour every inch of him.

Hanno’s kisses grew hungrier by the minute, hands massaging and tugging your hair now, pulling it free from its style. You moaned into his mouth, which made him pull away for a moment and press a finger to your lips.

“You must be quiet, dulcissima.” You fought the urge to buckle your knees at the sound of such a sweet term in his rough voice.

“I know,” you murmured against his finger, absentmindedly scratching your nails down his back as you spoke, revelling in the way his mouth opened slightly at the feeling, eyelashes fluttering. “I will be, I promise.”

“Do you?” he asked, finger now teasing at the entrance of your mouth. You nodded ever so slightly, taking his finger in your mouth, swirling it with your tongue. You closed your eyes, coating his finger in wetness, moving your mouth up and down exploringly.

“Mmmhmm,” you moaned as an answer around his finger. The way he was watching you with hooded eyes, bottom lip taken between his teeth, was making the wetness pooling between your thighs impossible to ignore. He gazed at you as if you hung the stars, as if you were a goddess he was worshipping.

You took your mouth off his finger with a pop, and he began to trace it down your throat slowly, leaving a trail of your own spit. You trembled under his touch, lifting your chin to allow him more access. He reached the swell of your breasts, continuing down between them. You pushed your garments down off your shoulders, arched your back to close the gap between you, chest heaving in desperation. You would feel pathetic if it was anybody else. But he made you feel so safe. You could completely be yourself, express your desires.

“My Lucius, my strong one, please,” you breathed, hungry hands now tugging at his hair. “I need you to take me. Make me forget everything. I want to only remember you.”

Without warning, he swept you up in his arms, a gasp escaping your lips, as he expertly laid you down, hovering above you. You took a moment to take him in; his pink, pillowy lips, tousled hair, scruff beard, shining eyes. Not even the midnight sky, nor a sunset, or a shimmering ocean, was so breathtaking.

“My love,” he scanned your face, causing your heart to skip a beat. “My love,” he repeated himself, beginning to kiss down your neck over your shoulder, across the top of your breasts, sucking and nibbling. Your entire body filled with goosebumps, and you briefly considered that you were not being nearly as quiet as you had hoped. It was so difficult when he was making you feel this overcome with ecstasy.

“I need to feel your skin on mine,” you whispered, tugging at his clothing. He lifted himself off you, standing before you. He removed his loincloth, tossing it aside, his erection standing before you. Your mouth watered as you took the sight of him in, face becoming impossibly hot. His manhood was proportionately large and thick, much like the rest of his broad, toned body. It made you feel so delicate in comparison. Various images flashed in your mind’s eye. A large, strong hand coming down hard on your ass. The other wrapped around your throat. His back muscles flexing as he pounded into you from behind, his hand over your mouth to keep you from screaming.

“You are so-“ you began to say, but couldn’t find the right words. Before you could finish your thought, he moved towards you again.

“Can I undress you?” he asked, hands moving steadily down your clothed body. You nodded vigorously.

“Please,” you squirmed, fluttering your lashes at your love. He motioned for you to sit up so he could pull your tunic off your head, placing it on the floor. You were left entirely bare, and if it were anybody else in front of you, you would feel self-conscious. But the way his fingertips gently stroked your sides, his big blue eyes bore into yours with care and understanding, made you feel like a goddess yourself.

“I want to worship you,” he began, covering his body with yours, mouth covering one of your breasts. “Lay you on an altar and pray over every single part of your body,” he murmured as he took your nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue. You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders for stability.

“Tell me what else,” you whispered.

“Well,” he said between wet kisses over to your other breast. “Once I worshipped you, my goddess,” he said as he began to suck on your other nipple, tweaking the first with his fingers, making you arch your back. “I would then ravage you,” he said, not giving you a chance to respond except to moan into his mouth as he kissed you, the kiss all tongue and desperation. His beard was scratching at your delicate skin deliciously. You ached to feel this on your thighs.

You began to grind against his body as you kissed, attempting to relieve some frustration. You could feel his hardness pressing into your stomach, and it made your mouth water.

“Lucius,” you groaned into his mouth, perhaps a little too loudly.

Shhhhhh, he placed his hand over your mouth, tutting at you. He kept his hand there, his other one tracing a line down your stomach. Your entire body was shaking as you spread your legs apart, drops of wetness falling down your thighs.

“Quiet, my love,” he whispered, one singular finger finally, ever so gently, tracing your folds. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, bucking up into his hand. You needed more.

He noticed his reaction, groaning to himself. He couldn’t help but give you what you wanted. He used two fingers to apply more pressure, running up and down your soaked folds, hitting your clit and making your body twitch each time. He watched in amazement as you writhed in both desperation and pleasure, guiding his hand with your bodily movements.

Something switched in you at that moment, and you pushed his hand off your mouth, flipping yourselves over so you were now hovering above him.

“I need you in my mouth, lest I die,” you said breathlessly. He looked amused at your dramatics, but you felt his cock twitch against you.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” he said, and you both chuckled. Wordlessly, you turned yourself around so your pussy was over his face, his cock standing proudly in front of you. It was throbbing, looking almost painful. It made you love him even more, that he wanted you this badly.

“So beautiful,” you murmured, using your thumb to swipe the precum dribbling out of his head, licking it curiously. His deep growl was animalistic, and you felt his nails digging into your ass as he took you in his mouth, devouring you just as he promised. Simultaneously, you moaned as you licked a stripe up the underside of him, spitting a generous amount before slowly taking him into your mouth.

Being unable to see him only made you feel closer, as you could feel his mouth reacting to what you were doing. At the same time, his suctioning and licking of your pulsing clit, licking up and down your folds, was making you groan against him, the reverberation contributing to his pleasure. You began to grind your hips against his face in rhythm with your head bobbing up and down, eyes fluttering open and closed in bliss. His beard scratching against your inner thighs was painfully delicious, even more so than your imagination. You could barely breathe with how fast you were taking him in your mouth, but you did not care.

When he took your clit between his teeth and gently tugged, you gasped in pleasure, making you gag. You pulled him out of your mouth, a line of spit following. You felt the vibrations of him laughing against you. You turned around so you were face-to-face again, your legs trembling.

“Did that feel good, my darling?” he asked, unable to help himself from drawing circles on your bundle of nerves with two fingers as he spoke.

“I-Oh-So-G-Good,” you choked out.

“Would you like me inside of you?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his fingers.

“Yes, please,” you begged. He wasted no time in flipping you over once again, using his strength to pull your legs up onto his broad shoulders, your ankles intertwining behind his neck.

“I am yours, yours, yours,” he repeated like a mantra. “Yours,” the last one came out with a groan, as he swiftly entered you halfway. Your breath was taken away in the best possible way, his thickness impossibly stretching you out.

“You’re so big,” you moaned, shaking your head, inadvertently clenching around him. He gritted his teeth.

“It feels so right. So right to be this close to you. I need you every day, every night, all the time,” he rambled, as he pushed all the way into you, bottoming out. You nodded rapidly in agreeance, finding it difficult to speak.

“Is that okay?” he asked, intertwining your fingers together above your head. You nodded again, licking your lips. Your mouth had gotten a little dry from hanging open in pleasure.

“I want you to fill me up like this forever,” you answered, tossing your head side to side deliriously. “I will always need you.”

Something flickered in Lucius’ eyes. He dropped one of your hands, instead pinning both of your wrists down with one hand. He used the other hand to draw circles on your clit, as he began to move inside you. Slowly, gently at first, but not for long.

Before you knew it, it felt as it he was going to split you apart. He was grunting with each thrust, your promises to keep quiet entirely forgotten. The rhythmic sound of your wetness as he moved in and out of you echoed throughout the cell, and it was quite possibly the most melodic sound he had ever heard. You could feel him deep within you, hitting your cervix which took your breath away each time.

Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, the veins in his arms protruding out. You moved your hands so he was no longer holding your wrists down, and he complied immediately. You needed to touch him. With shaking hands, you ran your fingertips all over his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles flexing with each thrust. You worked your way up over his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair, then back down to his arms. You dug your nails into his biceps, surely leaving marks.

“Fill me up with your seed, dulcissime,” you echoed his sentiment from earlier. “Make me ripe with a child so that we may carry on a hopeful legacy for generations to come.”

He groaned, profanities escaping his mouth in a deep, guttural voice.

“Say that again,” he demanded, fingers still circling your swollen, aching clitoris.

You gripped his hair in your hands, pulling him close to whisper in his ear.

“Get me pregnant, dulcissime. I need your hot, sticky seed inside of me.”

This undid both of you. You reached for one another, mouths slotting together in harmony. You stifled your moans with kisses, as you felt him spill inside you and warm you up. The feeling sent you over the edge, as you pulled his hair even harder to steady yourself. A warmth flowered all the way from your sternum to your extremities, your pussy pulsing around him as you rode out the high. Your entire body felt like it was floating, spots clouding your vision.

“My love, my darling,” Hanno murmured, his stomach rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. You kissed again, as he cupped your face gently.

Wordlessly, he gently, achingly, pulled himself from inside of you, and you both watched in awe as the point where your bodies met were no longer together. His seed was dribbling out of you, coating you and making you itch.

“Can I clean you up?” he asked gruffly, barely waiting for an answer as you sighed out, “God, yes,” as he moved down your body so his face was crowding between your thighs. He licked a swipe up you, making your entire body twitch with aftershock. You practically screamed, the overstimulation almost too much to handle. Almost. You shoved your fist into your mouth to stifle the noises.

You watched through hooded eyes as he licked up every drop of his own seed, grinding onto his face, chasing the pleasure. You were delirious, not a single thought in your mind beside Lucius. When he was finished, he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, and you moaned out loud at the sight. He returned to kiss you once more, and you could taste the familiar taste on his tongue, making your stomach swoop with desire.

Pulling away for a moment, he rolled over onto his back, pulling you with him so you were folded into his side, leg draped over his, his large arms engulfing you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your sweaty temple, wildly juxtaposing his actions from mere moments ago.

He gazed down at you with those incredible eyes, sighing blissfully. He moved a piece of hair from your face as he spoke his next words.

“I hope you know I meant every word, dulcissima. I want to build a future with you, for you, for our children. I vow to always protect you.”

You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

“We will build our home together,” you replied. And for the first time, the future you imagined, a future full of hope and possibility, felt closer than ever before.

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bbsmuts · 7 months ago

Text

Field Trip Part 2: The Queen's Homecumming ft. BLACKPINK Jennie and Lisa

A/N: This is the continuation of Field Trip, which was something that was requested a lot back when I released the original. I've kept people waiting long enough, and I'm sure seeing that title made a lot of people excited. Field Trip remains my most popular smut, with over 900 notes, shoutout to my man @xiaoondc for pitching it. It's almost been a year in real time, so it'll be accurate.

-상훈

Length: 8.45k

Possible TW: Pretty much all of it

Tags: Domination, slave/master, choking, spanking, breeding, humiliation, whipping, gangbang, spitroasting, anal, throatfuck, bondage

WARNING: Intense and graphic sexual violence and degradation is depicted in this smut, much more than the original Field Trip. If you are easily triggered by or sensitive to such content, I strongly advise that you stop reading here.

Part 1: Field Trip

It had been nearly a year since Jennie's scandalous visit to Nairobi, and the time had come for her to return. At last.

Jennie had been waiting eagerly for a full year to go back to Kenya as she had promised, and now she had the opportunity. So it was with high spirits and high anticipation that she packed her things and headed to the airport. Only this time, there was a difference. She had decided to bring along a friend of hers who was relatively pure and innocent, Lisa. The two of them boarded the plane together, Lisa happily talking Jennie's ear off, having no idea what was in store for her. She was jittery the whole flight, anticipation and excitement flooding her. The thought of what was going to happen when she arrived...it made her want to finger herself right there with Lisa and the random-ass guy sitting in the seat next to her.

She disembarked the plane hastily with Lisa, waited very impatiently going through security, and took a cab to the familiar Radisson Blu hotel, where she settled down for a few hours of sleep before the morning.

...

The look of pure shock on Ngina's face when she saw Jennie, in her crop top and shorts, back on the bus was laughable, she stared for a moment and then recovered herself, going back to her clipboard to examine something. Jennie smirked and sat down near the front next to Lisa, watching the locals of Nairobi mill around by the bus stop. Once Ngina had counted her passengers and made sure everyone was there and that there were no stragglers, the bus engine started and they began moving. Jennie's excitement was reaching fever pitch, but she kept a calm outer demeanor. The scenery brought back vivid memories of her last visit, and as they pulled closer to the village, Jennie could see the massive Mugumo tree that had lead her and Somi into the trouble that had ultimately lead her to a Kenyan BBC addiction.

The village had run into some subtle improvements since Jennie had last been there; the houses and buildings had been renewed, the villagers clothes looked newer, and the architecture was slightly more modern and updated, and something that resembled an outmoded hotel was visible at the far end of the square. The massive baobab tree that Jennie and Somi had been tied to and whipped at last time was also clearly in sight, the thought sending a pang of anticipation through her body.

All the passengers disembarked the bus and entered the village, Ngina shaking hands with the leader, who looked mildly surprised to see Jennie back. The same could not be said for the other passersby, who stopped and openly stared in shock. Jennie approached the leader and extended her hand.

Taking her hand and shaking it, he said, "I never did catch your name, did I?"

"It's Jennie. You?"

"Jaali." He looked to Jennie's left and saw Lisa, who was standing there watching the exchange and had chosen to wear a very small and very tight white halter top and black shorts, which perfectly displayed her flawless figure. "I see you brought a spare."

"Indeed I did. This is Lisa." Lisa stepped forward and shook Jaali's hand, eyeing him and her surroundings very curiously.

Jaali stepped back, a cunning smirk on his face. "Very good. Well, have a look around, feel free to explore." His smirk widened. "I hear the Mugumo trees are very pretty this time of year."

"How funny, so did I." Jennie returned the devilish grin, both of them sharing a knowing smirk. "Be a shame if we didn't check them out."

He laughed. "Indeed. Well, I have matters to attend to, so I'd best be off. Enjoy yourselves."

Jennie and Lisa departed towards the large, open fields together. The word that Jennie was back spread very quickly, and various locals, especially the men, greeted Jennie as she passed and voiced how glad they were to see her again.

Jennie inwardly smirked and shook her head, since she knew well that everyone but Lisa knew what would be going on today. She wondered vaguely whether she and Lisa would be separated, or whether Lisa would consent to or enjoy what was bound to happen once they reached the Mugumo tree. The guard troop passed several times, each time a different member greeting Jennie and throwing a glance at her retreating form.

"Wow," commented Lisa the sixth time this happened, "you must be really popular down here. What, did you make friends with every person in Kenya?"

Jennie chuckled as they both sat down side by side on a large lakeside rock. "Sure I did. Plenty of guys, as well. You know me, you know I'm into black guys."

Lisa scoffed and laughed as well. "Of course you would."

They laughed together for a moment before Jennie spoke. "Hey, you never know what could go down."

Lisa's giggles came to a hushed silence. "You mean...with them?"

Jennie nodded, curious to see how Lisa felt about it. Lisa blinked a few times and then said, "Three letters. B. B. C!"

Jennie laughed again. "Shocking that you would think that way."

Lisa paused her giggling once more. "But seriously, did you actually?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Sure then. Whatever you say."

Jennie scoffed and then glanced toward the bank opposite them, spotting the massive Mugumo tree, fully in bloom, and the altar below it. The scenery was really quite beautiful, but as the guard troop passed by again, she had other things on her mind.

"Say, Lisa," Jennie said, still observing the tree, "you ever seen a Mugumo tree up close before?"

"No."

"Well, why don't we go see that one?" Jennie nodded towards the other bank. Lisa looked over at it and hopped up.

"Sure, let's go."

A small and insignificant part of Jennie felt guilty for leading her friend into such a trap, knowing that the level of pain, shame, and humiliation would match if not exceed that of last time, but that small part of her was drowned by the other parts of her, particularly parts in her lower region, that had sworn loyalty and developed addiction to the cocks of the tribesmen.

They approached the tree, Lisa making comments on how nice the leaves looked, and sat down on another rock near it. Before long, the small body of guards started moving steadily in their direction.

"That's odd," Jennie commented, fighting hard to keep the smirk off her face and her excitement down. "I wonder why they're coming over here? There's no one but us."

"No idea." Lisa yawned. "God, I should have had some coffee, I was up all night."

Inwardly, Jennie speculated that once the guards finished their trip over here, Lisa would very quickly forget her tiredness. The guards marched their way all the way up to the rock, and their leader took another step forward.

"This is a forbidden area, you must not trespass here. Come with us now."

"Oop," said Lisa as they got off the rock and followed the guards back towards the village. "Guess we weren't supposed to be there. Well, we didn't know."

"Yup. We'll probably just go back to Ngina now." Jennie knew full well that the words coming out of her mouth were blatant lies, but she ignored it as they were led into the village. Her excitement was almost making her tremble, but she kept it in.

The guards then split them up, just like last time. Lisa's cries of "Hey, wait!" were ignored by Jennie and the tribesmen. Jennie was brought to the same hut as last time, with the clay floor and thick wood centerpost. The tribesmen shoved her inside and then took their places in a circle around the hut. She would have removed her own clothes, but she really enjoyed how rough they were with her. Two stepped forward and tore off her top, not bothering to be careful. Then one of them knelt, grabbed her shorts by the front, and ripped them in two. To her surprise, they left her bra and panties alone, perhaps at the order of Jaali, and tied her hands in front of her, leaving her kneeling half-naked on the floor.

Speak of the devil, Jaali himself walked into the hut, wearing only the loincloth that the other tribesmen wore, unlike his usual expensive manner of dress. Jennie surveyed his muscular and fit figure as he paced around the small hut, feeling heat grow between her legs, finding herself growing exceedingly horny just at the sight of him.

"So, Miss Jennie," he said, the same devious grin on his face as earlier, "you find yourself the same predicament as a year ago." He gave a theatrical sigh. "Of course, since you are now a repeat offender, your punishment for such a heinous crime will be significantly more severe than last time."

He stopped directly in front of Jennie, looking down at her and allowing her a glimpse under his loincloth, both the sight and his words spiking her arousal up. He chuckled at her expression and resumed his pacing.

"I must commend you, however, for the new addition to my harem. Lisa, her name was? Quite a beauty. And in no time she, like you, wil become a cockslave to me."

There was a short pause, in which he made a half revolution of the hut. "I notice, as well, that your friend from last time has foolishly chosen to ignore my warning and stay away. Very well. She will regret it."

"How will you bring her back?" Jennie asked.

"I will send my best men to South Korea and find her. They are skilled and they will track her down and drag her back by the hair if they have to."

Jennie considered this for a moment, then realized something.

"I mean no disrespect, sir, but wouldn't a bunch of massive, smelly, half-naked Kenyan tribesmen draw a lot of attention?"

He snorted and paused in front of her, raising his eyebrows. "Surely you are smarter than that, Miss Jennie. This may appear to be a rural, run down little village, my little slut, but believe me, we are not living in the stone age anymore. I have ample equipment to disguise my men and make them fit in."

He shouted something in Swahili to the men outside the hut, of which Jennie could piece together as him requesting a chair. A heavy scraping sound sounded outside and the door opened, allowing two guards to push in a large, fancy, luxurious throne-esque chair, which they pushed up against the pillar in the center of the hut. Jaali sat down on it, unsheathed a knife from a sheath on the underside of one of the chair's arms, and handed it to a guard behind Jennie, who slashed the straps on her bra and both sides of her thong's waistband, removing both and leaving Jennie naked, wet, and desperate. The guard handed the knife back to Jaali, who cut off the string holding his loincloth together, removing it.

Jennie could practically feel her mouth watering at the sight of his cock; even semi-hard he was packing at least 7 inches. She waited for his order.

"Now, my little slave," he said, tossing the parasol leaf loincloth aside and spreading his legs slightly more, "come here and suck my cock like you mean it. Show me how much you want it."

Jennie crawled forward, sopping like a Korean rainstorm, and took his hardening shaft in both hands, slowly pumping up and down, feeling her arousal soar. She took his head into her mouth, sucking lightly. She had planned on starting slow, and she was doing so, but Jaali had other plans.

He grabbed her hair into a rough ponytail and forced her head down, sending half his length into her mouth and throat. "No one ever taught you how to suck a dick, slave?"

She moaned lightly around his dick, closing her eyes and letting him take control. Independent of him, she pushed her own head further down, pushing more of him into her.

"That's a good girl," he groaned quietly, controlling her head and moving it up and down. "Guards! Mfunge mikono!"

She didn't need to understand him, as his instruction was followed through. She felt her hands being tied together behind her back, at the same time as Jaali pulled her head down to his base, making her gag and moan. She was absolutely in love with this life, eager to serve and eager to please. She gagged again and choked as he did not release her head, thrusting his hips up into her face and driving his cock, if possible, deeper into her throat. She pushed her tongue out and licked along his balls, thoroughly enjoying being treated rough. Jaali moaned again, waited a moment, and then released her. She pulled her head off his shaft and gasped in a breath, but her moment of peace was short lived. She was turned around and shoved down, her face pressing into the cool clay floor. Jennie's heart rate increased, as she knew what was coming. A moment later she gave a gasp and a broken moan as a large cock slid into her tight, wet pussy, filling her to the brim. She had never felt so stuffed before in her life, and the sensation of the tip of a cock against her cervix when he bottomed out made her moan louder.

"Fuck!" She cried. "You're so big...master..."

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Seems she knows her place better than I thought."

No further words were exchanged as he started thrusting his hips, slow at first, but quickly getting much faster, and in a matter of seconds Jennie was shrieking in pleasure and her legs were trembling with the effort of supporting her pleasure-riddled body. The continued assault on her pussy drove her crazy.

"Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, oh my god, please keep going! Fuck, you're so big! Keep pounding me!"

He pushed on her head and grabbed her breast, squeezing tightly. Jennie felt herself rapidly careening into the first orgasm of many that day.

"You like that, huh? You fucking slut, all nice and wet for me."

"Yes, I love it..." Jennie whimpered softly, brow furrowing at his deep strokes. "I-I'm a slut for you, master..."

"Good girl." He kicked up his speed and fucked her faster, automatically increasing force. Jennie's "Ah!"s became exponentially louder and within seconds, she gave a wail of bliss and squirted hard on his cock, her cheeks growing hotter as well.

"Fuck, Jennie, I can see why you're a crowd favorite!" He groaned. "God, you're tight!"

He pulled out and yanked her upright, slapping her face with his dick. Immediate lay understanding, she dove forward and shoved him all the way down her throat, desperate to taste his cum in her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down very quickly, sounds of deepthroat reverberating in the timbers of the hut.

"I'm gonna cum in your mouth, slave. Are you ready?"

Jennie let out a muffled "Yes, master!" around his cock before slamming her head down again, driving every last millimeter of his length down her throat. She gagged hard and coughed muffledly, but kept herself there, throat squeezing him. He gave one final loud groan, grabbed her roughly by the hair, and pulled her into his crotch, before exploding in her throat, straight down into her stomach. She slid off him slowly, savoring the taste of his thick cum, while he sat panting on the chair. She over balanced and fell on her side, still breathing heavily.

Jaali stood up and then squatted down in front of her, turning her languid hesd towards him. "I expect a performance of that standard every single time I use you, is that clear?"

"Yes, master," said Jennie, practically seeing hearts, as she looked at him.

"I must now go and sort out your friend, who will submit to me soon enough. I will leave you to my men." He walked to the door, and as the tribesmen approached, he threw a smirk oved his shoulder. "Have fun."

Jennie wished she could see Lisa get dominated, but she had no time to think about that as the men approached. Loincloths were removed, and suddenly she was surrounded by 5 large dicks, all stiff and ready to pound her.

She was grabbed and raised to a kneeling position, in which the man with the biggest cock slid under her, and pushed into her still-wet pussy, making her gasp loudly and moan in both pleasure and slight pain. He was incredibly big inside her, stretching her out considerably. Another moved in front of her and she opened her mouth obediently, allowing him in. The shaft that entered her ass, thus completing the trio, brought back strong déja vu from a year back, and she moaned louder as all three started pumping fast and hard. This feeling of being completely full, it was what she had missed so bad, and now it caused her more pleasure than ever before.

"Fuck!" Jennie moaned around the cock in her mouth as the man fucking her ass reached around her and choked her, none too carefully or lightly. She gagged as the cock was thrust deeper into her throat, her eyes rolling as she stuck out her tongue and allowed t deeper still, until he bottomed out.

All three of them groaned, and one of the other two cut the ropes binding her hands, allowing her to stroke him and his counterpart. The six of them moaned and grunted in various languages, tumbling down towards the inevitable orgasm that awaited all of them. Jennie could understand a couple of them degrading her in Swahili, which only served to turn her on more, and she felt the familiar buildup going sky high as their thrusts increased in strength and speed.

Then the hand on her throat tightened considerably as the first orgasm of the group erupted in her ass; she moaned at the spurts of warmth flooding her suddenly, and the pulsing in her tight hole. Her continued deepthroat sounds were turning her on, making her wetter, and the man fucking her pussy got an ample dousing of organic lube. His thrusts became less inhibited, faster, more slick, and he finally buried himself deep inside her, and the first shot of cum deep inside her womb made her throw her head back, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp, the sheer depth of it having her stunned and pleasured. The man in front of her grabbed her hair impatiently and shoved his cock back into her throat, and she gagged again, eyes rolling back as he bottomed out, groaning loudly.

Jennie closed her eyes and let the pleasure and arousal take over, allowing her submission to control her. She bobbed her head back and forth on the tribesman in front of her, driving him in and out of her throat, pushing him closer to his climax. Suddenly, the two others she had been stroking moved behind her, and she gasped, choked on the sudden inhale of saliva, and whipped her head around as the sensation of two cocks pressing against her asshole invaded her. She had never been double penetrated in one hole before, and she had the feeling it might not be as pleasurable as single anal penetration. With a fair amount of spit, they managed to push into her tight hole, causing her a great deal of pain and pleasure. She moaned out of both, but dutifully turned back to the other, jamming his cock back into her mouth. Both men behind her began furiously thrusting into her, seemingly enjoying her cries of both pleasure and pain. The guy in front then assumed a new position; one that benefitted all three remaining gangbangers. He lay down on his back, sliding his thick legs under her, so his cock was pointing straight up. She quickly brought her upper half down, so her ass was in the air, opening up her hole better, and brought her head down on the shaft hard, plunging it down her throat in one smooth motion. She furrowed her eyebrows in the effort of keeping it there; the new position allowed for better leverage and more penetration in her throat, it wasn't easy.

As her throat contracted around him and she massaged the underside with her tongue, he gave an almighty groan and grabbed her by the head, pulling her down still further as he blew his load in her throat, straight into her stomach, and her eyes rolled back once again as she struggled not to choke and spit his cum out. She pulled off him, swallowed with difficulty, then looked him in the eye, biting her lip in arousal.

Her seductive look was interrupted by a moan and her eyebrows arching upward as one of the two behind her started roughly fingering her clit, making her arch her back and buck her hips against them, crying out wildly at the sudden burst of pleasure. The other pushed her head into the ground, allowing him to see her side-profile moan. He leaned forward, putting more weight on her grounded face, railing her into the floor. Her entire body quaked under the force of the impacts, the strokes, rocking her prostrate form. Each and every blow to her ass made her tremble. She felt her limp hands being tied together again, something she didn't object to in the least. It made her feel controlled, helpless. And she loved it.

The man in front of her, now sitting comfortably on a wide pillow, grabbed her hair and yanked her face up, allowing him to see her pleasure-addled face. Her eyebrows were curved upwards, eyes closed, and she bit her lip at his roughness. She opened her unfocused eyes slightly and looked at him, letting out a small "ah" at a particularly hard thrust from behind her.

"You're a good obedient whore, hm?" He spoke in a thick accent, but not indecipherable. She didn't answer immediately, trying to think clearly past her haze of bliss. He slapped her roughly, making her yelp and give a quiet moan.

"Yes...master..." Jennie moaned out, giving a louder cry as three additional fingers were shoved into her pussy, adoring the roughness and the degradation. "I'm a...fuck...g-good little slut for you...master..."

He chuckled and let go of her hair, allowing her face to fall back into the floor. "Yes you are. Good girl."

Jennie moaned again. How could she ever go back to Korea? How in her right mind would she ever give this feeling up? As one of them behind her slapped her ass viciously, making her yelp louder, and she threw an arched-eyebrows lip bite over her shoulder, which earned her another slap on the ass. She moaned a vague plea for more, and the two kept up the spanks.

"Fuck..." She said softly, a small squeal escaping her lips at an especially hard spank. "I'm gonna cum..."

Her head was pulled up and she looked with hazy eyes into those of the man now relaxing on the pillow, who smirked. "You're going to what?"

"C-cum, master..." Jennie repeated, her voice trembling slightly, the pleasure reaching fever pitch inside her. "It's so good...so f-fucking good..."

He moved closer and pressed his cock against her lips, to which she gave a long lick, and then took it into her mouth, slowly moving back and forth. She moaned around his thickness, and with stifled groans, both men fucking her ass orgasmed simultaneously, sending another tirade of hot cum deep into her bowels. Her moans increased in volume dramatically, and she pulled off the cock in her mouth to vocalize her pleasure.

With a scream, she squirted intensely all over the thighs of the two behind her, yelling her lungs out as her world disappeared in a whirlpool of bliss. She was no longer aware of anything; all she knew was the pleasure of being the cockslave of this tribe. She panted heavily, slumping to the floor as all three men backed off. Faintly, she heard a very similar scream rent the air, and she immediately knew it was Lisa succumbing to the pleasure as well.

A sheen of sweat covered her entire body. She could feel cum starting to leak out of her ass and pussy, and as she returned to full consciousness, she heard footsteps approaching. Jaali entered the tent, a large and satisfied smile on his face, and she turned onto her back to see him.

"Did it work...master?" Jennie said breathlessly, chest heaving. She pulled herself upright as he approached.

"Very well, I'd say." He smiled wider. "She hasn't fully complied yet, and she's still acting a bit defiant, but that'll be fixed very soon. My men have done a good job so far. Soon enough she, too, will realize that she has no choice. The pleasure will get to her."

Jennie knew quite well what was coming next, and she was both excited and scared. It was quite painful last time, though she had enjoyed it in a way. But this time, he had said it would be more severe. She shivered, even though it was at least 40 degrees outside.

"So now," Jaali continued, "I believe you are aware of our next step?"

Jennie nodded, a small smirk tugging at her lips despite her fear of the possible intensity this time. The guards moved forward and grabbed her by the upper arms, pulling her upright. They marched her outside, where a crows had assimilated and she could see Lisa's slim naked form waiting by the huge baobab tree in the village square. Among the many emotions Jennie could see in Lisa's eyes, betrayal and hurt were not detectable. What was detectable was pleasure, adoration, slight confusion, and excitement. Despite having experienced this exact situation before, her modesty had been somewhat recovered during her year in back Seoul, and she felt her cheeks grow hot as her naked body was exposed to the crowd. However, she made no attempt to cover herself and allowed herself to be led up to the baobab tree. The guards lifted her onto the brick tree ring, and one climbed up after her. He tied another rope around the one binding her hands, fashioned the other end into a noose and threw it up over the branch of the tree, tightening it so she couldn't move her arms. Lisa's arms were also tied above her head, and as the guard retreated, she turned her head to look at Jennie.

The guard started professing their crime to the crowd gathered, and Lisa said three words to her.

"Did you know?"

Jennie was silent for a moment, considering whether or not she should tell the truth. Finally she looked at her and spoke.

"Yes, I did."

Lisa snorted. "So you led me into this on purpose?"

Jennie thought she was angry, but she then smiled. "Can't say I expected something like this to happen, but I like it."

"Wait - you're okay with this?"

Lisa smiled wider. "Didn't you hear me earlier? BBC! I wasn't talking about the news corporation, I knew we'd be doing that kinda stuff with them."

In spite of what she had just said, Jennie looked away. "I'm sorry."

"But why?" Lisa questioned. "We came here both knowing what would probably happen, you just knew more of it than me."

The voice of the guard and the usual angry shouts subsided from behind them, and Jennie looked over her shoulder. The box of whips and punishing tools was being brought out again, and Jennie could see a few cat-o-nine tails hanging over the edge of it. Jennie's heart skipped a beat; they had refrained from using the cat-o-nines last time, but since it would be more severe, would they this time? A cold sweat gathered at her hairline. She knew that, even though she would enjoy being punished with their other implements, she would not enjoy that.

Lisa looked around as well and her face went pale. "Wait...wait, they won't use the spiky ones on us, will they?"

Jennie breathed out a heavy exhale. "They won't use them on you. They might for me...since it's my second time doing this. I really hope not though..."

The two guards in charge of punishing them approached the box, dug around in it momentarily, and one pulled out the barbed whip. Jennie's eyes went wide and a stab of fear tore through her. But she experienced heavy relief as the other one grabbed his hand to stop him, shaking his head and irritatedly saying something in Swahili. The other protested, and the reasonable one raised his voice slightly, which allowed Jennie to hear and understand what he was saying.

"No, you sadistic idiot!" He said in impatient Swahili. "We're punishing the girls, not tearing them apart!"

The one holding the barbed whip put it back, looking sullen. The other one continued digging around, shaking his head and muttering incredulously. Jennie thought a silent blessing on him for his mercy and breathed a sigh of relief. Her heart rate jumped up drastically as they finally settled on a pair of flexible riding crops, pumping her excitement up. She was a pain slut and she knew it. They approached holding the tools, and Lisa whipped her head around to look at Jennie.

"How long do they do it?"

"Not long," Jennie replied, shifting into a comfortable position and preparing for her punishment. "Enough to hurt, though. But don't worry," she continued, smiling deviously, "you'll enjoy-"

Her sentence was interrupted by a vicious smack to her ass by the crop. She cried out loudly in the middle of her sentence and Lisa gave a small squeal at her first strike. And then the second stroke came. And the third. The fourth. The fifth. Jennie, through her haze of pain and pleasure, saw Jaali sitting on his chair by a different hut 10 yards away with his ankles crossed, a drink in his hand, observing the scene. He saw her looking at him and raised his glass mockingly, his smirk visible even from this distance.

She yelped louder at a particularly hard stroke. So far, she thought, this was not more severe than last time, in fact it was more mild. No sooner had she thought this than the crops were put away, and she caught a glimpse of the bullwhips from last time when she looked back. Lisa shot a glance over at her calm, composed demeanor.

"Well, you were right, it isn't as bad as I thought it would be. And I do kinda like it."

A loud, sharp crack cut through the air and Lisa shrieked in pain, eyes wide from the shock of such a drastic increase in intensity. A faint red streak was visible on her ass. A second later Jennie felt a stinging pain on her own ass, and she yelled out as well. Lisa got whipped again, and she gave another howl, eyes screwing up.

"Ow!" She cried, tears welling in her eyes. "It hurts!"

Jennie got her next lash, and she felt tears springing to her own eyes, purely from the pain of it. At a glance to her right, she saw Lisa's pained and tearful eyes looking back at her, her mouth opening in another cry at her next lash. They were each given 12 more lashes and then the bullwhips were put away. Behind her, Jennie heard a man's voice, shouting in Swahili.

"Turn around!"

Jennie turned to face the crowd obediently, but Lisa didn't move, not understanding the command. Jennie opened her mouth to tell Lisa what he'd said, then another crack sounded and Lisa wailed again.

"He says turn around, Lisa."

Lisa turned around hurriedly to face the crowd as well, and a pink tint appeared in her tear-streaked cheeks at the lecherous jeers of the onlookers. She crossed one thigh over her pussy a bit, in a minimal effort to decrease the humiliation, but a warning look from a guard was enough for her to put it back down. She let her leg relax, letting the crowd have an unadulterated view of her naked and abused body, hanging her head in shame. In a way Jennie felt sorry for her, but that thought was strangled by the sight of Jaali walking over from his chair. The guards stood at attention and bowed their heads respectfully, and he climbed up to where Jennie was, surveying with approval the marks left on her and Lisa's bodies. He stepped right in front of her and spoke into her ear, roughly grabbing her sore ass.

"Do you think we should bring out the kitties, little slut?"

Jennie could only assume he was referencing the tails, to which she frantically shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, master."

Jaali chuckled. "Very well."

He walked behind her, delivered a painful slap to both of their asses, and then walked back to his chair with a single shouted word.

"Kuanza!" ("Commence!")

While Jaali had been talking to Jennie, the guards had gotten out two thin wooden canes and were now preparing to strike. Jennie gulped and steeled herself as much as possible, and completely lost her composure as the first lash landed directly on her nipple.

"FUCK!" She screamed, jerking away as much as possible. It stung way worse than last time, and she had not been prepared for the level of agony it caused. Lisa spouted a similar shriek at her first hit.

And so it continued for dozens of lashes, each stroke becoming more agonizing, until they stopped, leaving the two girls panting heavily, moaning in pain and covered in red streaks. Despite the intense stinging pain she was feeling, Jennie couldn't deny that her pussy was absolutely drenched, and she found herself wanting more. Then she spotted her punisher eyeing her pussy as though about to hit it with the switch.

"Please..." Jennie said quietly, almost to herself, "No..."

Despite her arousal, she knew that being whipped there with that switch would be absolute hell. He seemed to consider it, but shook his head and put away the switch. This time around they used different tools. Perhaps since it was Lisa's first time, they went easier on her this round. Her punisher brought out a multi-tasseled leather flogger, and Jennie's retrieved an old-fashioned Russian knout, thankfully designed without wire. It was, Jennie thought, like a more intense version of Lisa's flogger.

The guards approached once more, holding their different implements of punishment. Jennie saw what was coming an instant before it did - the crowd gave a collective gasp as each of the two girls was struck violently in the pussy with their respective whips. But instead of a shriek of pain, both of them let out moans of pleasure.

"Ooooh..." Jennie moaned, as the guards drew their arms back once more. "Now you like it, huh, Lisa?"

Lisa gave a cute yelp as she was struck between her thighs again. "Mmm, yeah..."

The next upswing hit her directly in the clit, eliciting a high pitched "ahh" and upping her arousal. Lisa moaned again, a barely perceptible buck of her hips signaling her pleasure.

"Harder!" Jennie cried as she was whipped again, desperate for her release. "Fucking whip me harder!"

The guard didn't understand the words she said, but could clearly decipher her tone because his uppercuts increased in force and frequency. She felt herself drawing nearer to an orgasm from pain alone, though the strikes caused her intense pleasure from it. Lisa's cries also got louder as she too approached her orgasm.

"Fuck," Lisa gasped, chest heaving, "I'm gonna cum!"

Jennie only moaned in reply, giving a loud "ah" at her punisher's swing. But then there was a pause in the pleasure pain. Jaali had roused himself from his chair and was making his way through the crowd as Lisa's shouts continued, and after a quick word with Jennie's guard he took the knout from him and turned to face Jennie. There was a moment of silence, broken only by her counterpart's broken whimper, wherein Jaali and Jennie looked each other in the eye, and Jennie knew she was about to cum.

With a slight cock of his head, Jaali brought his hand down and then swung it up into her soaking wet pussy. Then again. And on the third strike, he calculated his movement, let his hand fall, and then brought up a stinging, painful, blissful strike into her. Every tassel of the ten-tail knout was felt, each landing an exquisite sting on a different spot. Her clit, her entrance, her lips, everything was hit in a magnificent blow. And this was what drove her over the edge.

With a final shriek, voicing her pleasure, she squirted explosively all over the place; droplets of her cum showered the tree ring and everything below her. It only took a few more strikes for Lisa to reach her orgasm as well; lithe body writhing, she squirted hard on the tree ring below her too. The two of them hung limp against their bonds, chests heaving.

Jaali climbed up to stand in front of the crowd, back to the two bound girls, and starting speaking loudly in Swahili to the audience.

"You see this?" He gestured at the two of them. "These two degenerate whores have just orgasmed before your eyes, from a public whipping! They are aroused by pain and humiliation! Now that you have seen with your own eyes the level of decadence these licentious sluts show, I leave them to you. I trust that you will handle them appropriately."

The crowd, especially the men, cheered at the last two sentences, and the mob converged. The rope on Jennie's hands was sawed off and she was dragged onto the ground with Lisa. Jennie felt a mass of hands groping and fingering her, to which she moaned quietly. She was pulled to a kneeling position, at which time someone tied a piece of cloth into her mouth, keeping her from talking. A hand grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, and a few more restrained her hands behind her back. She felt a lukewarm substance being daubed across her breasts and cleavage, but she couldn't decipher the words from feeling alone. The hand gripping her hair was pulling very hard, and Jennie gritted her teeth at the pain. Yet another hand grabbed her by the neck and tightened its grip until she was gasping, and several more slapped whatever parts of her were accessible. She felt blows land on her ass, pussy, breasts, face, thighs, and other spots. She managed to turn her head enough to see Lisa, who was being treated the same way, and black clay paint which had been roughly smeared across her breasts spelled "Kahaba" (Whore). An unknown someone slapped her face hard enough to knock her over, but she was steadied by the thirty hands grasping her.

Jennie's mind was a whirlwind of chaos and mixed emotions, and the only things that resonated with her brain were the pleasure of being caressed and fingered and the pain of being slapped, spanked, and abused. Bodies and noise pressed in on her. Her hair was released, and she looked down at her chest to see the same clay paint, which spelled "Malkia Kahaba" (Queen Whore). Her cheeks grew hot again, but that was nothing compared to Lisa's. Lisa's face could have been easily mistaken for a beetroot, it was so red.

The two were dragged onto their feet. Jennie's hands were tied behind her back, and she was pushed forward. She could't see where they were going, or where she was being led, but the crowd was marching her and Lisa somewhere, and by the noise of the crowd behind her, she could tell she was at the front of it. Gasps and shouts were heard from who was presumably villagers who hadn't been made aware of the situation. Blindfolded, gagged, tied, and naked, she was paraded through the village, shown to everyone who hadn't already been at the gathering. As humiliated and ashamed as she was, she couldn't ignore the heat building up between her legs again. Was she really being turned on by this?

Then someone in the lead of the crowd shouted in gleeful Swahili, something like "I got it!"

Jennie didn't know what he was talking about, but all the was concentrating on was keeping her arousal to a minimum, since her thighs were rubbing together a lot as she walked. But then, out of nowhere, something flat and something that stung hit her ass, and she gave a loud cry, not expecting the sudden pain. They had broken out the crops again, and Lisa let out a similar squeal a second after. Jennie's ass was already sore from its earlier abuse, and the sting was made much worse now. But each hit not only send a jolt of pain through her, but one of pleasure as well. She struggled to keep her moans at bay, and was battling to keep herself from cumming again. She was fighting on multiple fronts, including her own front, and soon enough the armies of pleasure would overtake her defense.

And sure enough, when the crop was brought up into her pussy, she folded. Her entire body shook with the effort of controlling itself, and she bit the cloth in her mouth hard to keep herself from yelling out. A stream of cum leaked out despite her best efforts. The leaders of the mob noticed her decrease in pace and pushed her to keep walking, thankfully not noticing her orgasm. Her whole body felt hot and shaky, whether that was from arousal or humiliation she didn't know.

Before she knew it, they had made a full circle of the village, and her blindfold and gag were removed. While they had been away, some remaining helpers had constructed two large structures that vaguely resembled spits for cooking meat, which were made up of two vertical wooden poles with an adjoining horizontal pole on top, both of which having been laid down on the ground. The crowd had assimilated more members on its tour of the village, and various members were shouting something Jennie couldn't understand over the noise. But she and Lisa were each forced onto one of the respective spits. Jennie's hands were tied to the top pole, and each of her feet was tied to the two outer poles, spread-eagling her across it. Then a rope was tied onto each of her thighs and then connected to the top pole, to support her and make sure she didn't fall. She looked to the side and saw Lisa in the same position, everything on display for the villagers. Tears were gathered in her eyes, but she didn't seem to be too opposed to her current situation.

The crowd left them alone momentarily while they held an internal discussion, no doubt debating how to humiliate the two girls further. They seemed to come to a unanimous conclusion, and the two were suddenly surrounded by men. Jennie got a brief glimpse of the surrounding houses before the mob of guys closed in. And in every direction, they all pulled out their cocks, and in every direction they started stroking their cocks.

Jennie understood their purpose now. She and Lisa would be covered in cum and raised on their spits to be displayed to all passersby. She was mortified at the idea of it, but the idea also sent a thrill of excitement through her and a fresh wave of slick to her lower region.

It was only a couple of minutes before the cum started flowing; Jennie gasped as the first spurt of cum landed directly on her hypersensitive pussy, and then the floodgates were opened and dozens more hit every part of her that was reachable. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of each white spray covering her body. They focused much of it on her face, but eventually they covered her whole figure with streaks of white cum. A final spurt landed on her outstretched tongue, and then the men dispersed. Her spit was heaved and hoisted into a standing position, leaving her hanging naked about six feet above the ground, well in view of everyone.

And after a few minutes of jeers, ogling and shame, the crowd dispersed and Jennie found herself in a similar position to last time: naked, tied, abandoned, and humiliated. She looked over and locked eyes with Lisa to her left. Tear tracks adorned her beet-red cheeks.

"You okay?" Jennie asked in Korean, so the remaining locals and guards wouldn't understand.

"Yes," Lisa replied, giving a small struggle against her bonds, "I'm good. And you know what?"

"What?"

Lisa suddenly smiled. "You were right, I did like it."

Jennie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really? All that, and you enjoyed it?"

Lisa nodded. "But fuck - that hurt. A lot."

Jennie grinned. "That's what makes it good, isn't it?"

Lisa giggled. "You're a really big fucking slut, you know that?" She sighed. "How long do you think we'll be up here?"

Jennie shrugged, as much as was possible with her arms splayed out. "As long as it takes for the guards to get horny again."

Lisa shivered at the thought. "Damn, that felt amazing..."

"Yes, now you see why I was so eager to come back."

"So what happens next?"

"You'll probably be taken down, then fucked again, then the tribe leader will offer you the option of being this tribe's sex slave. You can go back to Korea with me as long as you come back with me every year."

"Not that I will, but if I refuse?" Lisa asked.

"Prison, in which case the same outcome happens."

"Well, even if I had a choice I would still become their slave. Because god...I can't resist that..."

Jennie laughed. "Now who's a slut?"

"Heyyy!" Lisa protested. "I'm not a slut, it's just...well..."

"Who said there's anything wrong with that?" Jennie chuckled.

Lisa blushed. "Ok fine...I'm a slut."

"That's better."

It was about half an hour more that they hung there, with the occasional goggling passerby, talking. But then a small body of guards approached and took the spits down, untying the two girls and dragging them to their feet. Then their hands were tied behind their backs again, and their blindfolds were replaced.

No fanfare was bothered with and no privacy was cared for as the guards removed their loincloths and bent the two over on their knees. Jennie had no time to react whatsoever before a thick, long, and hard cock entered her pussy from behind, and another pushed against her lips until she opened them, which she did, gladly welcoming the shaft into her mouth. Both dicks quickly reached their maximum depth and bottomed out, making Jennie moan and gag simultaneously. She was very sensitive everywhere from the day's abuse and manhandling, and the man fucking her pussy was taking no care to be gentle. Nor was the one in front, who was savagely fucking her throat with no consideration for her rapidly emptying lungs. She choked on the thick meat filling her throat, trying to draw breath, but to no avail. He thrusted his hips forward fully, shoving his entire cock into her throat, keeping her from inhaling anything but his precum. She gagged, trying to pull away, but he held her head there, making her eyes roll back. She choked again, inadvertently jerking, her throat being stretched out by his thick cock. She desperately coughed and choked, fearing that he would facefuck her to unconsciousness, but then he let her go, pulling out of her throat. She gasped in a breath, coughing and panting. He gave her a moment's rest before starting throatfucking her again, but he didn't hold her down. Quick, hard thrusts were given from both sides, and again she felt herself drawing nearer to a climax. She had lost count of how many she'd achieved, but the number, whatever it was, had left her very sensitive and very delicate, and she was loving being absolutely demolished by the tribesmen. They gave no regard for her sensitivity, uninhibitedly drilling her with relentless abandon. Similar noises came from Lisa to Jennie's right; her cute deepthroat sounds and moans could be heard even over Jennie's own.

Then she heard a groan from behind her and a moment later, a deluge of hot cum filled her pussy, shooting deep inside her. The sudden torrent of warmth triggered her oncoming peak as well, and a gush of cum streamed out of her. Her loud "ahhhhng" was muffled and absorbed by the cock in her throat, and its owner succumbed to the orgasmic pleasure Jennie's mouth gave him, and finally buried himself inside it, releasing his load deep down her throat.

The two were given a minute to recover, breathing heavily, until they were heaved to their bedraggled feet once more.

"Well, see you." Lisa called to Jennie in Korean, excitement easily distinguishable in her voice, and then they were led their separate ways. Jennie nodded at her and allowed herself to be steered away towards the sex hut. Jaali was waiting there, in his chair which was pushed against the center post. He gave a small smirk at the sight of her, cheeks flushed and red, naked, covered in semi-dry cum and whip marks, and pushed onto her knees.

"Enjoyed yourself, little slut?"

"Yes, I have, master."

"Last time, of course, you were offered a choice, which I will be giving to your friend once I'm done here. This time, you having already accepted the better option, you have another choice. You can, of course, return to Korea, and await this time next year. But," he continued, a small smirk curling his lips, "our hospitable village would be willing to play host to you and your friend, should you wish to stay a little bit longer to enjoy our...amenities."

Jennie was silent for a moment, and then smiled widely.

A/N: Jesus Christ, it's about time I put this out. It might've been a bit rushed. It's been pretty fun writing this series, and you know I can't leave it like that, so a part 3 will be in order in about...ten years. You're welcome.

#blackpink smut #jennie smut #kpop smut #jennie #lisa #lisa smut #blackpink lisa #blackpink jennie

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venus-haze · 3 months ago

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Reach Out, Touch Faith (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Day 22 - Thigh Riding. Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No spoilers for the show in this fic. I finally caught up on Grotesquerie and had to write something for Father Charlie! Shoutout to @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok for even putting this show on my radar. Title comes from Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving a member of the clergy, thigh riding, some degradation.

Only Father Charlie could walk the line between a wet dream and a saint. You found this out rather quickly after becoming a parishioner. It’d been years since you went to church, but moving to the small town offered little in the way of a social life outside of work, so you swallowed your pride and began showing up to mass, and then getting involved in everything from the soup kitchen to movie nights. He didn’t judge you when you admitted you were there to make friends. In fact, he encouraged it.

“People feel increasingly isolated these days,” he had told you. “The church used to be a place for people to meet and make connections, I’m glad it’s serving you that way. Gives me hope for the future of our parish.”

After just a few weeks, people actually got to know you, to the point where you were invited to get coffee with some or join others for dinner. But in your heart, you knew you were mostly showing up for Father Charlie. Especially since he followed you on Instagram, and you almost considered softblocking him so he couldn’t see what you were up to. Morbid curiosity got the better of you, and you followed him back, dragged to the depths your desire by the videos of him exercising on his feed—his toned muscles flexing, skin glimmering with sweat. Your hand flew to your mouth when he squirted water from a bottle on himself. What the fuck kind of priest even did that?

You could hardly look him in the eye the next time you saw him. When he cornered you after a book club meeting, it was almost like he knew.

“You know, for everything you’re involved in, all of the meetings and events you show up to, I’ve never had you for confession,” he said.

It was the way he said it—had you—that made you take pause. As if his being a priest obscured something close to lust, almost implied consummation.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to know who’s confessing,” you said.

“I’d know your voice.”

“I guess I’m just scared, Father.”

“Of what? God’s judgment?” he asked. “He’s merciful if you bring your sins to Him.”

“More along the lines of what you’ll think of me.”

He smiled. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

“God, no!”

“Well, there’s blasphemy,” he joked. “Come by tomorrow at seven. No one else will be here. No pressure.”

Sitting in the confessional almost made you feel claustrophobic. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you folded them across your lap, waiting for Father Charlie to speak from the other side of the screen.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

You paused, trying to remember an exact date, but nothing came to mind. “A few years, probably.”

“That’s alright. What sins do you bring forward today?”

“I don’t know,” you lied.

“You don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.

“No. I can’t think of anything.”

He scoffed. You could practically see the sneer on his face through the screen. “I can list off some. Pride, selfishness, leading others into temptation—do you have any idea what you’re capable of doing? The depths you can cause a man to sink to? The sins of the flesh proliferate every aspect of our modern lives and you—you just—”

“Father?”

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke your name softly. “I want you to leave the confessional. If there’s no one around, come over to my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Against your better judgment, you left the confessional and rounded it to the other side. When you opened the door, he looked at you expectantly, curling his pointer and index fingers to beckon you inside.

You hesitated. Almost took a step back, except he reached for you, pulling you in with him. If you thought it was claustrophobic before, your body, cramped in so closely with his, would have been enough to make you anxious on its own, but the proximity, his body heat, his dark brown eyes blazing with a vengeful lust, drew a whine from you when you were maneuvered onto his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs. You suddenly wished you hadn’t worn a skirt—knee-length, modest enough when you picked it out, but woefully inadequate for the way his hand slipped up it, his fingers brushing your pussy through your panties.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, dripping with arousal in the house of the Lord.”

Rage filled your chest at his taunt. “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me,” you hissed. “Your socials are shameless. I almost thought I was on OnlyFans, the way you flaunt yourself.”

“But you liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he pressed. “Why else would you have come to confession if not for your guilty conscience?” He flexed his muscular thigh beneath you, a pathetic sounding whimper echoing from your lips in the confessional. “Unless you’re only chasing lust, that fleeting, deadly sin.”

“For the love of God, put up or shut up,” you snapped.

He was at a loss for words, then, and letting your pride get the better of you, you kissed him—claiming him was more like it, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip until he shivered beneath you.

Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you rocked your hips back and forth against his thigh, the friction from the fabric teasing your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help the cry that tore from your throat until he silenced you with his mouth on yours. Sweat rolled down your back at your exertion, making your blouse stick to your skin, the confessional almost suffocatingly hot.

“Is this what you had in mind, Father?” you mocked, your voice husky and almost cruel, though you knew if anyone walked in, they’d be able to hear. Wouldn’t take very long for a keen listener to figure out what was going on. “Is this my penance?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his strong hands kneading your ass.

You chased your orgasm, finally finding it when he moaned your name in your ear like a prayer. Rode out your ecstasy on his thigh, a sick thrill rushing through you at the thought of the wet spot you’d leave on his pants, the physical evidence of your debauchery, if the only witness to it was the ever-silent, omnipresent, judging eyes of God.

“Is that all, Father?” you asked breathlessly, glancing down at the prominent tent in his pants.

With a shaky sigh, he leaned his head back, palming his crotch. “Go—go say ten Hail Marys.”

When you knelt down at the pew just outside of the confessional, you began the first of your penitent prayers with the sound of his groans and soft curses echoing in your ears.

#father charlie mayhew #father charlie x reader #father charlie smut #father charlie grotesquerie #grotesquerie #father charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew #battie kinktober 2024

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cherryswisherz · 6 days ago

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GLORIA [verse one]

♱ CONTAINS: kissing and cursing das it

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: PAZZI MINI SERIES ONNA HOE okay so like the vision is pazzi reminiscing on memories of their relationship. shoutout anon for the request

♱ ♱ ♱ ♱

❝i met her when i was off the porch as a teenager, she said one day i would right my wrongs and see paper❞

“BUECKERS!” Micah yells my name as I approach the benches near the basketball court.

I’m 15 minutes late but everyone should be used to that by now. By now, being late is my trademark so none of my friends look bothered. In fact, almost everyone is smiling as they dap me up and say hello.

Everyone except the only person in the group that I hadn’t seen before. Some girl with bug eyes.

Okay, so they aren’t big eyes. But they are big, brown eyes that look at me like she wants nothing more than my head on the chopping block.

“Yo, who’s this?” I nod my head towards the girl who’s shooting me the literal death glare.

“This is Azzi.” Micah slings an arm around Azzi's shoulder and she shrugs him off with a huff. “She’s my cousin. She just moved here.”

“Can she hoop?” I ask.

“She’s standing right here and she would appreciate it if you didn’t speak about her like she wasn’t.” Azzi snatches the ball from my hands and begins walking to the court. “And I thought the movie was White Men Can’t Jump?”

I have no choice but to laugh at her insinuation. Meeting her on the court, I snatch my ball back. “It’s a good thing I’m a woman then, huh?” I say.

“Oh? You got game white girl?”

“Like you’ve never seen before.”

“Show me then.”

“Check.”

And the game began.

❝we started out young, lookin' for some identity, made a thousand mistakes, but never did we lack chemistry❞

“PAIGE!” Azzi’s chasing after me. “Will you just wait for a a fucking second?”

Every fiber of my being is telling me to keep walking and never stop, but we’re in a hotel for state and she’s screaming my name. If someone complains, coach is gonna kill me.

I stop walking and shut my eyes, taking a deep breath.

Relax, Bueckers.

I pivot on my foot and stare at the girl in front of me.

If I wasn’t such a pussy, I’d tell her how beautiful she is. With her frizzy french braids and her tie-dye t-shirt and her St. Patricks Day socks. But complimenting her would only make this whole situation even more awkward, and if it gets any more awkward I might off myself.

So, instead of telling Azzi everything I’ve wanted to tell her since I’d met her, I speed walk back to our room grabbing her arm in the process.

I’ve never been one for serious conversations and Azzi and I’s friendship isn’t necessarily one where we have too many of them. But tonight, I thought I saw something.

Something in her eyes said, ‘it isn’t just you.’

God, I couldn’t have been any more wrong.

Shutting the door, I turn to her and make it a point to never take my eyes off the lamp behind her.

“I’m sorry.”

She furrows her eyebrows and cocks her head a little to the side. “You’re sorry?” she sounds confused, which is confusing me.

If she doesn’t want an apology then what the fuck does she want?

“Yes?”

“For what?”

For kissing you. For reading this whole thing wrong. For ruining our friendship and possibly losing us State because there’s no fucking way I’m gonna be able to focus tomorrow.

“For everything.”

All of a sudden, she’s not across the room for me anymore. She’s right in front of me, smacking me hard on the back of my head.

“OW!” I duck my head and slid under her raised arm. “What the fuck, Azzi?”

“You’re so stupid!” She shouts.

“How the fuck am I stupid for apologizing to you?”

We’re both yelling at each other, which to anyone else, may seem like a bad thing. But Azzi and I get our best communication done during our screaming matches.

Don’t ask me why… It just is what it is.

“Because I don’t want a fucking apology, Paige!”

“Well, the fuck do you want then?”

“YOU!”

Record. Scratch.

“What?” I’m not yelling anymore. I’m actually speaking so low that I almost don’t hear myself. “What did you say?”

“I was trying to tell you, but you kep-”

I cut her off, “Say it again, Azzi.”

She grins like the Cheshire cat, “I want you.”

“What does that mean, though?”

“Holy fuck, you’re actually dumb.” She rolls her eyes, “I like you too, Paige.”

I’ve waited to hear that for almost a year.

A year of staring when she isn’t looking. A year of moments that I wondered if she held as close to her as I did. A year of wanting her- no, needing her in ways that seem too mature for a 17 year old girl.

A part of me thinks she’s joking. Or she’s just trying to make me feel better…

I think about the kiss we shared 2 minutes ago. Her soft lips on mine, her in my lap on the bed next to me, grinding on my lap, driving me insane.

I think of her scrambling off me and saying stop and the guilt that has sat on my chest since.

“But-” The sentence dies in my mouth and tears well in my eyes, “But when we kissed-” I point at her “You said stop.”

Azzi’s arms fly up before plopping back to her side, “Because I don’t wanna fuck you the night before the state championship!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Azzi mocks me, “If you would have just waited 30 seconds, I would have told you that.”

Azzi Fudd likes me back. The girl I’ve been feining for, likes me back.

Suddenly, I’m aware of the chance to be a jackass, and of course, I have to take it.

I walk over to her and nudge her shoulder, “You liikkkee meeee.” I sing

She laughs and shoves me away, “Get away from me.”

“You liiikkke meeee and you liked when I kissed yooouuuu”

She crawls back in bed and uses the comforter to hide her smile, “Go to bed, Paige.”

I crawl in bed, on top of her and kiss all over her face, relishing in the fact that Azzi fucking Fudd likes me back.

❝i was in love with you, didn't know what it was with you, kiss you in back of the class just to get a buzz with you❞

“Ms. Bueckers.” Ms. Jackson says. “Put your phone up, before it becomes my phone.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jackson.” I flash her a grin and slide my phone into my pocket. I don’t even need to me on my phone anymore anyway.

Azzi and I’s plan is already set.

My eyes never leave the clock. Counting the seconds until they become a minute, until eventually a minute begins five.

My hand shoots in the air. “Can I go see my counselor?”

Ms. Jackson never turns from the board, her back still to the class as she groans before saying, “Get out, Paige.”

“Love you too, Ms. Jackson.” I smile and dip out of the classroom, making my way across campus to the gym.

“Finally.” Azzi groans, ball already in hand. “How do you make the plans and still come late?”

“Shut up,” I throw my bag down and walk over to her. ‘Gimme kiss.”

She ducks away from me, laughing, “I thought we were gonna play one-on-one?”

“We were.” I nod my head, “But you look so good,” I smile and grab her hips, pulling her closer.

She gives me a peck and tries to pull away, but a peck is never enough, so I chase her lips and she drops the ball, wrapping her arms around my neck.

In a few months I’m gonna graduate and go to UCONN and she’s still gonna be here. We’re gonna be almost 2,000 miles apart, and I don’t know how I’m gonna survive without her but I’m not gonna think about it right now.

Right now, I’m gonna do everything but fuck my girlfriend in the middle of my high school's gym.

♱TAGLIST @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @janaelalfysblunt @kmoneymartini @sageworld

@darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @pb524830 @pb524830 @dnftpn @sierrale8ne @numberonepartyanth3m

@pppaaiiiggggeeeeee @uwupaige @paigeluvvr @colorthecosmos444 @authentic-girl03 @makethemhoesmad @lovegalor333 @mrsarnold

@sellasstories @heart4caitlin @avvwritesstufff @st4rrzynight @bueckersp @paxaz535 @thelightknight21 @paxaz535

@darlindayss @his-loss @dreatopia

#niyahspeaks #uconn wbb #uconn #paige bueckers #wcbb #aubrey griffin #azzi fudd #kk arnold #paige bueckers fic #pazzi #azzi fudd fic #pazzi fics #pazzi is real #Spotify

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yoonmetogether · 2 months ago

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Hook, Line & Stinker

A Min Yoongi one-shot pairing: workaholic!dom!yoongi x needy!brat!fem reader feat. hoseok genre: est. relationship, pwp rating: M for mature and explicit content. No one under 18 should interact summary: you love your boyfriend, but it really sucks when he holes himself up in his studio for days at a time, leaving you at home alone. when you visit him to make sure he's still alive and well, you have no intention of dragging him away from his work. but is there anything wrong with a little distraction in the form of lingerie? warnings: jealousy, angst, (blonde snapback) yoongi is moody, reader feels neglected and pushes his buttons, arguments, there's no infidelity but reader pretends she takes an offer on a date w/ hobi and yoongi worries bc of insecurities and then brings up his ex, under the desk bj, exhibitionism kink, unprotected sex (if he doesn't wrap it, don't let him tap it!), rough make-up sex, oral (m. and f. receiving), spanking, spitting, light choking, multiple orgasms, i think this is pretty filthy, reader gets upset but yoongi takes care of her, they kiss & make-up & talk about boundaries, they love each other, fluff ending, this is my first time posting something like this so please let me know if i missed any tags!!! wc: 10.8k 🤪 also shoutout to my beta reader @yoonglesyeobo who gave me feedback in bullet-points for this, honestly the best!!!

You punch in the code to Yoongi’s studio (which just so happens to be your birthday), slightly irked that you have to come all this way because your boyfriend wants to continue to be a workaholic after you’ve lectured him countless times about the importance of taking a break. So you arrive with food and a cute lil outfit you think will help distract him.

Upon entering, you see he is deeply entranced by his screen and you can hear the echoes of music blasting through his headphones. You quietly maneuver inside and set the bag of takeout on the coffee table before tiptoeing up behind his chair and slowly reaching up to his shoulders. You roughly grab them and laugh at the way he jumps and tears off his headphones.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaims as he turns to see who just scared the shit out of him.

“Deng! Guess again,” you say with a grin, leaning down to kiss him on the head. When you go to poke his nose, he bats your hand away and mumbles.

“You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

“Well, that’s one way to get you out of the studio. Give you a ride home in an ambulance. I never thought of that,” you sneer playfully, giggling when he glares at you. You slide back to the food on the table.

“Come eat, Min PD.”

“I’m almost done,” he grumbles and turns to face his desk. You roll your eyes.

“No, sir. You need to eat or you’re gonna make yourself sick, and guess who has to take care of you,” you scold as you tug on the back of his chair to twist him around and he looks up at you with a whine. You would never want him to get sick, but if he does, you'd love to baby him, and not just because you'd find it amusing how he'd act like he didn't like it as he has many times before. You've learned over the course of your relationship that he can take care of himself when he's sick, but now that you live together, he's been known to ham up his symptoms so you'll dote on him hand and foot. And he does just the same for you, even goes out of his way sometimes. One time he called off work for an entire week when you got the flu and wouldn't hear any of your arguments that you were fine alone.

“I will! I just need a couple minutes.”

You click your tongue. “A couple minutes to you is like eight hours. I swear, you go through a time warp every time you come in here. You know it's been three days since I last saw you? Let’s go.”

You grab onto his arm and tug him, but he goes slack in his chair and makes protesting noises as you drag him towards the coffee table, laughing when he stretches his other arm at his desk like he’s being pulled away from a long-lost friend.

“You are such a drama queen,” you sigh as you let go of his arm.

“I was almost done,” he pouts, crossing his arms. You roll your eyes as you take out the food you brought.

“Sure, sure. Just eat real quick and you can finish in 'a couple minutes,’” you say sarcastically with air quotes, and he scowls, nonetheless leans forward to reluctantly grab the box of food you hand him.

You walk around the edge of the table and stop in front of him. You smile as he begins to eat his noodles, so you grab his chin.

“Good boy,” you quip, and lean down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, catching him off guard.

He coughs a bit as he processes what you said and watches you with wide eyes as you sit down in his lap. You laugh at his expression as you open your container of food and grab a pair of chopsticks. You both sit in silence and eat, glancing at him every now and as he chews with his head down, a line drawn between his brows that looks like he’s trying to figure out something.

“How’s your food?” you ask before taking a sip from your bottle of water.

“Good,” he grumbles without looking at you. “Thanks.”

You shift to get more comfortable in his lap and he starts to chew faster.

After he nudges you off his lap and helps you clean up, he turns around to scoot his chair back to his desk.

“Thanks for coming by and all, but I think you should leave."

You scoff, mildly hurt. “Why?”

“Because I know what you’re trying to do.”

You realize what he means and the brat in you makes an appearance, so you throw your hair haughtily over your shoulder and slyly walk up to his chair, sliding a hand down his arm.

“And what is that exactly?”

“You’re trying to distract me, but it’s not working,” he says through curled lips, staring at his screen.

“No?” you smirk. You squat and fold your elbows on the arms of his chair, propping your chin up on your wrist. “How am I being distracting? All I did was bring you food.”

He turns his head to glare at you, but his Adam's apple bobs when he looks down at your position, how your legs are spread to reveal the meat of your thighs, then at how you smile at him in a pseudo-innocent way.

“Exhibit A, B and C,” he says, gesturing to your legs, tits, and face.

You grin. “What? I’m just looking at you.” Your voice however drips in seduction.

He shakes his head and looks back at his screen, trying to stay strong.

“Precisely.”

Your tongue pokes into your cheek in amusement and a devilish lightbulb flashes in your mind.

“How is me looking at you so distracting?” you ask, settling on your knees before gliding a hand over his leg. “Wouldn’t it be something more like this?”

His mouth pulls into a thin line as he struggles to keep his eyes focused up. You slowly push at his leg to move him towards you so you can rise in between his knees, smiling at the way he refuses to look at you. You begin to slide your hands up his thigh, licking your lips as you head for his crotch, but he catches your wrist.

“Don’t,” he commands, now looking down at you with a serious expression.

Undeterred, you push your bottom lip out in the brattiest pout, and the severe clench in his jaw shows how hard he's fighting to keep his guard up.

“You’re just so stressed, and I want to help you… relax.”

He closes his eyes and swallows, and you just know he's trying to keep his imagination away from thoughts not suited for work.

“I appreciate that, baby, but I’m almost done here and when I am, I’m all yours, okay?” He lets go of your wrist to smooth out your pout with his thumb.

You believe him, but still, you want to bother him after he hasn't paid attention to you in a few days.

“Fine,” you sigh and start to stand up. “Well, I guess I can’t ask you for your advice on what I bought. If I want to return it, today is my last day, so it’s now or never.”

You only take one step away when his hand grabs your wrist. You smile. Hook, line, and stinker.

You look back in faux confusion. He licks his lips and swallows, hesitant yet desperate to find out what you’re talking about.

“What do you need my advice on?”

Without hesitation, your hands fly to the hem of your shirt. “Oh, just this.”

He sucks in a sharp breath as you tear off your shirt to reveal a lavender corset bra. The lace is embroidered with delicate floral designs to reveal the lower half of your breast, just barely covering your nipples, and parts of your ribcage below. His throat goes dry.

“It has a matching thong too. Wanna see?” Your question is rhetorical because you give him no time to breathe as you unbutton your shorts. You bend over to shimmy them down your legs, making a show of wiggling so your breasts move side to side.

You kick your shorts to the side and stand straight, carding your hair out of your face before placing your hands on your hips and standing confidently in front of him.

“So, what do you think?” you ask, cocking your head to the side as his wide eyes go up and down your form.

“It’s pretty,” he swallows, biting his lip to ignore the twitch in his boxers.

“Oh, see how it looks from behind.” You twirl around and adjust the clips of the corset then the hem of your thong, sticking your ass out in the process. “Isn’t it cute?” Yoongi is screwed.

You look at him from over your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

He nods, barely hearing you as his eyes train on the way the string of the thong disappears between your cheeks. You smirk when his tongue pokes out just over his teeth.

“The lace is really soft too. Here, feel,” you say, spinning back around and walking up to him, rubbing your fingers over the lace below your breast.

He swallows, wanting so bad to reach out and touch, but knowing if he does, it’s over for him, he’ll lose. But shit, you look good as fuck, and he can’t help but give in.

You grin as he reaches his hand out to feel the lace and he hums in approval.

“It’s nice,” he says, voice deep and starting to give away his desire.

“It’s even better here,” you say, gripping his wrist to plant his hand on your breast and he purrs as he lets his fingers squeeze your flesh.

You let him massage for a second or two and judging by his face he looks closer to giving into your distraction, but you'll wait.

“Okay, since you like it, I won’t return it,” you say, dropping his hand and turning to grab your shorts off the ground. “Thanks! I’ll let you get back to work.”

You bend over again to pick up your shirt, your ass right in his line of sight and he can’t deny the rock-hard bulge in his jeans.

“I’ll see you when you get home,” you say as you walk over to the table but his low voice rumbles through the sound-proof studio.

“Get your ass back here,” his words shoot straight to your core, the string of your thong growing wet.

“I thought you said you have to work,” you say innocently.

“Right now,” he growls, and you move towards him like a magnet.

Once again next to his chair, he slides his fingers underneath the lavender straps stretching over your hips to cup your exposed ass. Your skin flares hot when he squeezes.

“I don’t want to distract you.”

His dark eyes filled with lust shoot up to you and flicker with anger.

“It’s a little fuckin’ late for that, doll,” he grits. “You made a problem and now you’re going to fix it.” He moves his other hand to palm his bulge. Your eyes widen at the motion, and you cross your legs because, shit, you want to sit on that so bad.

“And then you’re going to leave and let me finish what you interrupted and wait for me to come home.”

“Yeah? Then what?”

His lips curl in what could be a growl, and he smacks your ass, pushing you to stand between his legs.

“Then I’m going to punish you for getting me hard at work.”

You moan as his hand moves to your front and feels over the lace material that covers your pussy. You shudder when his fingers slip between your thighs, battling with the string of your thong to rake over your clit and slit, groaning at how wet you already are.

“Fuck, you really get this turned on just from teasing me?”

You whimper in response as he drags his finger over your bud before removing his hand.

“We need to do something about that,” he says, sticking his fingers in his mouth to suck your arousal from them. Your legs shake involuntarily. “You can’t keep pissing me off so you can get your way.”

You breathe out a moan as he pops his wet fingers into view and licks over them slowly with his tongue flicking in the v-shape while looking right at you before dropping them to his lap. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you imagine him doing that right on your clit.

“I keep saying, you make it too easy.”

He bares his teeth before gripping your sides and pulling you down to his lap, pushing your hips to roll on his groin.

“Or maybe you just need to have the brat fucked out of you,” he growls into your ear before biting the skin below it. Before you can do anything, he pushes at your waist and tells you to get on your knees on the ground, raking his hair back in frustration.

You hesitate as you stare at his crotch, wanting to reach for it but remembering all the times he's tied you up for touching him without permission.

“Get to work,” he says, letting his wrists dangle casually from the arms of the chair, bracelets clacking.

You greedily sit up on your knees as your fingers dig around under his sweater for his belt. You quiver at the sound of his buckle coming loose and bite your lip when you see the bulge straining in his underwear after you undo his jeans. Just as you begin to reach into his boxers, someone knocks at his door.

You both react in panic.

“Hyung, can I come in? I need to show you something,” the sound of Hoseok’s voice echoes from the other side of the door.

“Shit!” he breathes, pushing your hands away from his belt and rolling in his chair over to where you left your clothes on the floor. However, you have no intention of moving.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He asks exasperatedly in a hushed tone when he finds you sliding back under his desk on your hands and knees.

“Yah, Yoongi hyung!”

Yoongi’s head whips between you and the door, blood pressure spiking. You put your hand out for the clothes he’s holding.

“It’s too late, I’ll just hide under here. He won’t see me.”

Yoongi’s jaw moves in annoyance, but he has no time to argue with you. So, he scoots his chair all the way under his desk to shield you with his widespread legs, throwing your clothes in your face. It works because you can barely see out beyond his lap, thanks to his wide and thick thighs, but this is no good news for Yoongi because another evil and salacious idea forms in your mind.

“It’s unlocked!” Yoongi calls and braces himself, praying that Hoseok cannot see under his desk.

As the door opens, Yoongi quickly busies himself at his computer, pretending that he doesn’t have his half-naked girlfriend underneath his desk and face level with his crotch.

“Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to ask your advice on something.”

Yoongi’s brow ticks. Why is everyone asking for his advice today?

“It’s fine, Hob-a, what’s up?” He asks, trying to play it cool.

But as Hoseok stands next to him at his desk, he feels hands slide onto his lap and he grips the edge of the table, hoping that you're only just teasing him. But that hope doesn’t last very long.

Hoseok wants to know what he thinks about one of his tracks, that there’s something off about it but he can’t figure out what. Hoseok hands Yoongi his flash drive and he plugs it into his PC, and as he clicks around for the file your fingers inch towards his unopened jeans.

As Hoseok points at the screen about different parts of the track he’s concerned about, Yoongi grinds his teeth, urging himself to stay focused even when you begin to palm at his clothed dick. He thinks about kicking you, but all thoughts get cut off when you reach in through the hole in his boxers and pull his cock out. Fuck, he's needy for you, even in the most unorthodox way. He jerks when your hand wraps around his length, the other diving back in to squeeze his balls but he plays it off like he’s adjusting in his seat, masking his moan with a cough. He slides forward in the chair so you can have easier access.

Shit. How can something so wrong feel so motherfucking good?

“You okay?” Hoseok asks, giving him a wary side glance as Yoongi clicks around the screen.

The older, sweating man nods stiffly and clears his throat.

“Yeah. It’s just been a long day. Do you wanna run it through?”

Hoseok leans over for the mouse and Yoongi takes the chance to let his expression crack while you run your tongue up the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his dick, hand circling around his base.

Yoongi’s eyebrows pinch in fierce concentration on Hoseok’s track once he hits play but all of a sudden, your lips wrap around his tip, and you suck him into hollowed cheeks, devastatingly slow so as to not make noise even though the music would surely cover it. Stifling a groan, he straightens his back and presses his ribcage against his desk when you swirl your tongue around him. He’s going to fucking get you later.

Hoseok hits the spacebar and pauses the music. As it stops, you halt your movements. “See, there. Something doesn’t sound right.”

Yoongi’s brows furrow as he tries to center his attention even though your hand is massaging his balls.

“I think I missed it, sorry.”

Hoseok sighs but moves the mouse to rewind back a few beats. He points at the tracker on the screen to tell Yoongi which part to pay most attention to and he nods.

As the music resumes your mouth returns to his length, and you slowly move down until his tip hits the back of your throat and he holds his breath at the pleasure, moan catching in his chest. He's so goddamn pissed that you’re doing this to him, but it feels so good at the same time. He tries his best to resist the urge to let the pleasure consume him, so he knocks off his snapback to pull his fingers through his hair and begs his brain to focus on the music.

“Right here, hyung,” Hoseok murmurs next to him and Yoongi nods, listening closely even though your hot tongue licks from his base to the tip.

Then he hears it, some strange offbeat in the background and he taps the spacebar, sighing through his nose when the silence makes you retreat.

They go over it for a while until Yoongi finally figures out what’s going on since the blood returns to his brain once you stopped touching him (although that doesn’t mean he isn’t still hard, and his dick isn’t twitching in your face and making you salivate and want to touch yourself).

“Ah, okay, I see what you mean,” Hoseok says when Yoongi explains that there’s an extra beat embedded that’s easy to miss. “Thanks.” He claps him on the shoulder.

“Is that all you need?” Yoongi asks just to be polite but prays Hobi makes a quick exit.

He nods as he saves the file before ejecting it and Yoongi pulls out the flash drive and hands it to him.

“How long have you been here?”

“Uh, a while, but I’m almost done.” Yoongi hopes Hoseok doesn’t see the way his eyes squeeze shut when you begin to move your thumb over his leaking tip.

“Good. You deserve a break! You’ve been working so hard.”

“Thanks, Hob-a. You too.”

“How’s your girlfriend?”

Yoongi internally groans, now of all times Hoseok wants to make small talk.

“She’s fine,” he says in a tight voice, only because you have lightly dragged your fingers up his length.

“Uh-oh. Troubles in paradise?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen in confusion and your hand stills. “No? What makes you say that?”

“Oh, just saying, because usually when anyone asks you about her, you gush for like twenty minutes.”

Yoongi’s face and neck flushes a dark red and you have to press a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“Do not,” he grumbles, although in denial.

Hoseok snorts. “Fat lie, hyung. You always jump at the chance to talk about her, you don’t realize that? It’s cute! Well, in a sickening kind of way, but still.”

Yoongi glares at him as he feels your head fall onto his knee, trying to keep yourself from laughing.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” Hoseok teases in a baby voice, bending down to pinch at Yoongi’s cheeks. “Cute Yoonie loves his girlfriend so much that he wants to talk about her all the time.”

“Fuck off, Hoseok,” Yoongi mumbles, swatting at Hoseok’s fingers and pushing him away as he turns back to his computer, and thankfully you’ve cut him a fucking break under his desk.

Hoseok snickers and grabs his laptop. “You better go home and see her, go on a date. But if you’re too busy, I’d be more than happy to take her out for you!”

“Yah, Jung Hoseok!” Yoongi bubbles with fury and Hoseok just cackles and scurries to the exit.

“Bye!” Hoseok grins mischievously, wiggling his fingers in the air before closing the door behind him.

A few seconds after the lock clicks shut, you burst out into laughter, and Yoongi flushes a hot, steaming red all the way up to his ears.

Yoongi pushes away from the desk and ducks his head down to look at you as you begin to crawl out on all fours. He scowls when you giggle once you make eye contact with him.

“I don’t see what’s funny. You’re in big trouble, you know,” he says, stuffing himself back in his underwear.

You stifle a laugh as you stand up. “You mad?”

“Clearly!”

You cock your eyebrow when he darts a hand out in frustration. “At what, the fact that I sucked your dick under your desk or that I found out how much you love to talk about me?”

Yoongi narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Both.”

You smirk. “Aww, come on, Yoonie~” you tease, mimicking Hoseok as you go to sit on your boyfriend’s lap.

“Go away,” He tries to fight you off but you trap him by grinding down on his hips and shoving your tits in his face.

You hum as you press an open-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You sure?”

Your hand slides down to his clothed dick, still solid under your palm. “Don't you want me to take care of your ‘problem’?”

He swallows moan as you grope him. But he feels embarrassed and upset that you went down on him when Hoseok was there. Deep down he thinks it was hot, but he knows Hoseok has always had a crush on you and he doesn’t like the idea of him seeing you like that, especially with the kinds of comments he sometimes makes implying that he can treat you better.

“Yeah, when I get home,” he sighs and you deflate. “I’m almost done.”

“Seriously, are you mad?”

“No, babe. I just want to finish up now so that I can be done for the weekend. That’s what you want, right?”

You grimace, wondering what he means by that. “Fine,” you acquiesce, hopping off of his lap so he can roll back up to his desk.

You slide on your clothes and gather your things, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything smart, but you can’t help feeling that his words don't sit right in your chest. As you walk to the door and slip on your shoes, you glance over to see him hunched over his desk, not even bothering to look back as you leave.

“You know, maybe I’ll go find Hoseok and take him up on his offer. Since it seems he has the time for me,” you sneer after you open the door, stepping out and slamming it shut behind you.

Yoongi jerks his head and swivels around but you've already disappeared. Oooh, that pisses him off. He knows you only said it to do just that but that sits right along his insecurities and he wants to lose it. But he really is almost done with work so if he hunkers down now, he can finish and go home and tell you off.

90 minutes later he receives a notification, a text from you with an attached image. You’re lying in bed on your stomach in your corset bra, holding up your head as you pout into the camera with your cleavage on full display.

my brat: Hoseok was busy :/

Yoongi drops his phone on the table, and it clatters, free hands rubbing frustration down his face. He knows what you’re doing, and he should have the willpower to ignore it but- FUCK are you good at getting what you want. You like pissing him off so that he'll be rough with you. And although he enjoys the dynamic, finds it fun, this is just one of those times that he really doesn’t like how you piss him off. He hates the idea of you alluding to the fact that you asked another man to fuck you. He knows you indeed haven’t, that you’re just messing with him, but he’s getting in his head with his self-doubt. He angrily decides that the track is good enough for now, that he can meet with Namjoon tomorrow or something to tweak it. He has to get home to make sure no one else has touched you but him.

You are in Big. Fucking. Trouble.

When Yoongi walks through the door, you’re in the kitchen getting something to drink, wearing one of his flannel shirts over your lingerie. When he appears you smile and greet him, but falter when he ignores you and quickly shuffles by to the bedroom. You watch him pass you and your smile slips at the stone look on his face. You know you pissed him off but did you make him upset? You never want to hurt his feelings, you just want to get his attention. You set your drink on the counter and pad after him.

When you walk into the room and lean against the door frame, his back is to you as he strips off his sweater to reveal his dark gray t-shirt and silver chain.

“Did you finish?” you ask, twiddling your fingers over one of the buttons of his flannel.

“No,” he says, keeping his back to you. You frown.

“Oh. How come?”

“Because my bratty girlfriend can’t be fucking patient," he grits, swiping off his snapback.

You cross your arms, not appreciating his tone. “I left, didn't I?”

His shoulders shake in a sardonic laugh, fingers combing through his hat-hair. “Yeah, only after telling me you were going to look for Hoseok.”

“Yeah well, maybe if you paid more attention to me, I wouldn’t feel the need to do that,” you sneer before pushing off of the door frame to speed-walk into the living room.

You only make it halfway down the hall before a hand grabs your wrist. You’re met with Yoongi’s looming figure exuding anger as he glares down at you and you match his energy immediately.

“And you think the way to get my attention is by making me jealous?”

“Well, it seems to be the only thing that’s working! Isn’t that why you came home before you got done with work? Because you think I asked Hoseok to fuck me? Not because you-“

“Did you?” he interrupts and your jaw moves in irritation.

“What do you think?” you bark. He blinks down at the floor. There it is again- that insecurity. He backs you into the wall as he tries to control his anxiety.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly and that pisses you off. He really thinks you would stoop that low?

“Really? What, you think I wanted to suck you off while he was there hoping he’d catch us? Ask to join? Have me suck his dick too?”

Rage floods through him at the thought and his hold around your wrist tightens.

“Would you?”

Your mouth drops open. “Wow. Screw you." You pry his hand off and angrily walk back into the bedroom, wanting to put on more clothes now that you’re upset. As he follows, you make a petty point by taking off his flannel and exchanging it for your own clothes, pulling on your own t-shirt and sweats.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says when he stands in the doorway.

"No? You don’t think that I’d jump at the chance to suck another man’s dick if the opportunity presented itself?”

“No, of course not,” he shakes his head, feeling guilty when you say nothing else so he continues, wanting you to understand where he's coming from.

“I just… You know he likes you.”

You spin around, flabbergasted. “Fucking so?”

He closes his eyes, feeling embarrassed that he’s about to bring this up. He has no reason to be worried that you like Hoseok but… he still struggles deep down that he doesn’t deserve you and that you’d be better off with someone else. Maybe someone like Hoseok.

“Why don’t you go ask him whether or not I took him up on his offer?” you snap. Then you stride across the floor and stand toe to toe with him.

“Or how bout you find out for yourself,” you provoke.

He looks down at you with your chin tilted up at his and a heartbeat passes before his hands fly to your face and he presses his lips to yours. You respond immediately by scraping your fingers over his ribs, hooking over his spine as he licks into your mouth, teeth clashing together desperately.

He begins to walk you backward towards the bed and when you hit the edge of the mattress, he tears your shirt off and lifts you by the waist to settle you down and kiss you hungrily as he climbs on top of you, chain laying on your throat. His hands move down to your sweats and he stands straight to rip them down your legs and onto the floor, looking down at your body decorated with pretty lingerie and he intrusively thinks about Hoseok seeing you like this and jealousy fires through him again.

He falls to his knees and loops his fingers under the straps of your thong to roughly pull them off, licking his lips at the sight of your bare pussy, glistening with the return of your arousal. He adds to it with his spit and promptly attaches his lips to your clit, growling when you cry out and arch your back in response. He wraps his arms underneath your thighs to hold you in place as he slathers your pussy with his spit and teeth and tongue.

His eyes close as you let out whimpers and whines of his name while your hands grip his hair, every sound making his dick twitch in his jeans. He sucks and slurps all over your cunt, making it messy between your thighs and on his chin, anything to make you keep wailing his name. He flicks his tongue over your clit and between your folds just like he demonstrated on his fingers back in the studio, and he has to flex his biceps around your thighs when you thrash. He can tell you’re close by the way your legs quiver beside his head and he slides your clit between his teeth before pressing his lips around it and sucking in a fast, relentless rhythm.

“Yoongi, gonna come!” you cry and a dark chuckle rumbles through his chest at the thought that no one else can get you to your peak as quickly as he can. He mercilessly continues sucking your clit until your legs violently shake and press against his head and you come with shrieks of his name. His tongue dives to your hole as it pulses and he licks your essence into his mouth and groans while he swallows, grinning victoriously as you continue to shake through throes of pleasure.

He slows his movements as you spiral down, loving the way you twitch at every touch of his mouth. He presses a final kiss to your clit before he moves his arms from under your thighs so he can hover over you while you catch your breath. He places his knee between your legs and leans down to kiss you so you can taste yourself, chain swinging over your heaving breasts. You moan as you dart your tongue against his and loop your arms around his neck to pull him down. Then he slides his lips down your jaw into the crook of your shoulder and speaks gruffly into your ear.

“You think he could make you come like that?”

You immediately shake your head, heat filling your gut at his dark tone. He bites your neck then rolls his tongue over the spot to soothe the sting.

“You need to say that out loud.”

You draw in a sharp breath. “No! No he couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what?” he snaps.

“He couldn’t make me come. Not like you do.”

Pride shoots down his spine and he sits up to straddle your hips, turning you over onto your stomach so he can grab handfuls of your ass.

“You think he could fuck you like I do? Huh?” he experimentally rolls his clothed bulge over the swell of your ass.

“No,” you whimper with a desperate shake of your head.

“No?” he challenges. “You don’t think so?” He drags his hips against you slowly, hissing at the friction.

You continue to agree and he hums, still taking his time to drag this out. He just wants to hear it as much as possible but your smart mouth fucks you over.

“If you’re not convinced then we can go find out,” you say, voice muffled by the sheets but he hears you and snarls.

He leans down to grip a handful of your hair to turn your ear to his mouth.

“Why don’t you do that and I’ll go re-acquaint myself with Mina.”

A vicious green monster tears through your chest and you turn over to face him as your head fills with intrusive thoughts of the hands and body of his ex you once envied all over him while he enjoys it.

He chuckles mockingly at your expression. “Don’t like that, huh?”

You say nothing but look at him angrily as you picture him with her, hating it with a passion.

“Do you, baby?” he coos sarcastically, trailing the backs of his fingers down your cheek. “Don’t like the idea of my hands and my mouth being on someone else?”

He leans down to emphasize his point by kneading and kissing at your skin that he can reach and your chest heaves in response.

He rolls his hips. “Or my dick fucking someone else’s pussy?”

You see red and your hands fly up to grab his chain and tug his face parallel with yours so he grunts, a dark grin spreading on his face.

“No, I don’t fucking like it,” you seethe.

“Now you know how I feel,” he says mockingly. You scowl, fucking annoyed, and let go of his jewelry.

“You brought this on yourself. I never talked to Hoseok. He was the one who said he would take me out if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have heard that if you hadn't been hiding under my desk sucking me off.”

“Oh, right and you were trying real hard to get me to stop,” you snap, pushing at his chest.

His jaw ticks, realizing you have a point. He leans up and sits back on his heels.

“Or just admit that you didn’t want me to,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows. His eyes flicker to you darkly.

“That you liked it,” you taunt, moving to sit up on your knees so that you're level with him.

“That maybe if he did catch us he’d be jealous of your long, fat dick.” He shivers as your words send shocks to his core and his ego.

“And how good my throat is for fucking.”

His gulps at the imagery as your fingers trace under his shirt.

“And how he’d never get to find out for himself,” you say earnestly, looking directly into his eyes.

Then your hand slowly travels down to his groin.

“But if you want to go find Mina and see if she makes you feel as good as I do,” you mock as you grab his bulge and squeeze under his balls, making him hiss and involuntarily buck against you.

“Then be my fucking guest.” Your teeth grind as you let go of him to move off of the bed but you’re quickly stopped with a hand squeezing your elbow.

“Lay down,” he demands, warm breath fanning over your cheek.

“Make me." He huffs before moving his hand to your throat and pressing lightly on either side, making your resolve slip.

“Keep it up, brat.” The very brat in you comes back for an encore as you grab his wrist.

“Or what? Gonna go call up Mina? You think she’d even want you anymore?”

His eyes flash menacingly at the venom in your voice and you squeak when he bends down to pick you up, arms supporting your back and under your ass to carry you over to your shared desk.

“It doesn’t matter whether she would or not. Because I don’t want her,” he says simply as he sets you down, knocking the notebooks and tchotchkes out of the way, paying no mind as they clatter onto the floor.

“No? Then who do you want?” You know it’s a stupid question but you’re fucking triggered and you want to hear him say it. He tilts his head as he undoes the buckle on his belt.

“I’m looking right at her, sweetheart.” You falter, but you’re not about to let up that easy.

"Just - Fuck you for bringing her up." Gently pushing your legs apart, he gives you a remorseful smile.

“I’m sorry. I only wanted to get back at you but I took it too far.”

“Get back at me for what?” you ask, glossing over his apology and you’re almost able to ignore his fingers massaging the inside of your thighs.

He cocks his brow. “For that selfie you sent and your text implying that you asked Hoseok to fuck you but he was too busy?”

“You started it,” you scoff and cross your arms, chest heaving as his hands move slowly to the part of you that’s aching for him.

“Did I? You were the one who came into my studio and shoved your tits and ass in my face wearing this pretty lingerie all because I haven’t been paying you enough attention.”

“Try ‘any’ attention.” He hums and looks down to watch his thumb brush over your clit, smirking when you gasp and grab his forearm.

“Baby, it’s only been a few days. Are you that needy for me?”

You huff but don't try to deny it, eyes rolling to the ceiling when he slides two fingers between your wet folds, lifting up your knee to hold it on his hips so he has a better view and access.

“Thought so.” You shut your eyes so his smug face won’t piss you off.

“Well, remember I tried to leave but you told me to ‘get my ass back here right now,’” you recount, leaning back with a hand on the desk.

You bite your tongue when his fingers sink inside to slowly work you open.

“Yeah, well you’re sexy as hell in this lingerie and I’m a weak bastard for you, so sue me,” he grumbles, staring at your pussy as his hand picks up the pace.

“I’m only sexy in lingerie?”

He sighs. “Sweetheart, did you miss the part where I said I’m a weak fucking man for you?”

You hum nonchalantly, his words filling your heart up with butterflies but the brat in you is refusing to leave the stage so you ignore him.

He shakes his head and grips your thigh to get you to look at him, making sure you’re paying attention.

“Just shut that smart mouth of yours, baby girl. And let me show you I mean what I say.”

He lifts one of your arms to hook around his shoulder and you reluctantly acquiesce, letting him situate you in a way that’s comfortable before he pushes down his jeans to free his dick from its confines. Jerking his shaft, he tilts down in concentration to inspect your puffy cunt.

When he thinks it could use more lube, he holds his hand next to your mouth.

“Spit.” Letting go of your stubbornness, you obey, only because you enjoy the way he doesn’t mind your saliva dropping in his palm.

“Good girl,” he mumbles. You watch impatiently as he tilts his head back while spreading your spit over his tip, making you clench around nothing when his knuckles brush your folds. You whine his name again when you feel his head rub up and down your wet slit before he taps it a few times.

“Beg.”

Your hand slaps his back, matching your huff in frustration and his lip curls.

“Minus the fucking attitude.”

“It’s been three days.”

“What?” he snaps.

You lift your head with a glare. “I said it’s been three fucking days, why should I beg?”

He slides his hard, lubed up length in between your folds to show you what you’re stalling.

“Shouldn’t that be all the more reason to?” he growls as he smacks the side of your ass.

“I'm not the one who didn't come home. So shouldn’t it be you doing the begging?”

He stills.

“Maybe,” he says softly, massaging your skin that he knows is stinging from his hand. Your chest squeezes at the sad tone in his voice even though you’re pissed off.

“But you remember what I said about punishing you for getting me hard at work?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, lips pursing as you nod.

“This is part of it. You’d better fucking beg.”

He sighs and shakes his head, digging his fingers into your waist when you take a second too long to respond.

“I’m not going to tell you again.” He steps back, threatening to walk away. In a panic, you hook your heels behind him to keep him from going any further.

“Fuck, fine! Yoongi, please. Please fuck me!”

With a dark chuckle, he closes the distance between you again, arm circling around your waist, licking and marking under your jaw. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds up your thigh, you moan when he teases your entrance with his throbbing tip.

“I’ll always give you what you want when you’re a good girl for me.”

And just like that, the brat in you is gone. At least for now. He groans when you kiss him with ferocity and allows you to take the reins a bit. You moan and fist his hair in both hands, whining when his hand trails to your core to make sure you’re still ready, and he’s confirmed when he easily slips in three of his fingers, making you gasp into his mouth.

“You want it?” he growls against your swollen lips as he removes his hand covered with your essence to use it as lube on his dick. You nod frantically.

“Words.”

“Yes!” you wheeze.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?”

“Yes!” You exclaim louder.

“Then turn around.”

He helps you settle on your feet and twirls you around with both hands on your hips, biting behind your ear while he lines himself up behind you.

“You know I love you, right?” You nod, leaning into his teeth and wiggling your hips to entice him but his firm hand on your ass keeps you in place. “But right now I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

A spark floods through you at the way he curls a hand around your throat and simultaneously rubs his head up to your aching clit. You’re screwed, but you are so, so ready.

“Please!”

Without giving you a second to breathe, he spears into you, forcing you forward with your hands flattened on the desk. You yelp out when he begins ramming into you at an angle so deep your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He slaps your ass, harshly enough to sting, and grunts when you clench around him, continuing to make the room swell with lewd sounds of your wet pussy squelching with every smack of his hips. It feels feral, the force of his thrusts causing the desk to thump against the wall, but the rhythmic sound is drowned out by your mindless moans.

He fucks you like he hates you, like he doesn’t care how the wooden edge is digging into your waist, or the way he’s slapping your ass until your skin is raw, slamming his hips against yours so it’s certain you’re going to have trouble walking. If you didn’t like it so much, you’d be telling yourself not to piss him off ever again.

A hand on your spine pushes you down onto the desk, breasts and face squishing on the lacquered wood, and you moan when he pulls your cheeks a part and you can just picture the way he’s watching himself pound you, tongue poked out in fascination, head moving from side to side to see all the different angles.

“Nah.” He mutters to himself and you glance over your shoulder to see him shaking his head as your body moves up and down. “No one else can fuck you like this. Right?” He grits, fingers digging into your ass as he takes a long stroke of emphasis.

“Mhmm!”

He hums to himself in satisfaction, letting out an amused chuckle before he starts fucking you so hard and so fast and so goddamn good that you don’t realize you’re coming until it hits you, and your finger nails dig into the desk for dear life, leaving scratch marks. As you clench around him he lets out a string of curses that would make even a sailor blush, rubbing his hands up and down your back, fingertips kneading your ass as you shake and come apart.

You’re still trembling when he finally slows his thrusts to a moderate pace and his hands on your skin are moving more gently now that you’re coming down.

“Baby, talk to me. You good?” It takes you a second to register that he’s been talking to you for a few seconds. He just fucked you into euphoria, you’re drooling on the desk because of it, so you need a goddamn minute.

You whine in dissatisfaction when he pulls out of you, only for him to reach over to brush sweaty hair out of your face, and you blink open tear-filled eyes to him peering down at you with concern knitted into his brows.

“You good?” he repeats, continuing to brush your hair back and smoothe his hand down your spine.

You nod. “Mhmm. ‘M a good girl.” His eyebrows lift in relief when you say something that’s somewhat coherent.

“That you are.” You swoon. That’s all you ever want to hear him say, even though more often than not your behavior speaks otherwise. At least he’s shown you that he loves to deal with it.

“I’m gonna bring you over to the bed. Can you make it?” Pushing your hands against the desk, you try to put some weight on your feet and know without even trying that you won’t. It feels like he was on the brink of splitting you in half.

“Only if you carry me.” You can feel his smile on the side of your face as he rubs your shoulders before gently pulling back on them, holding you against his chest once you straighten. He presses light but necessary kisses to your neck and cheek before turning you to the side so he can swoop you up in his arms like you’re his bride. You hope one day you will be.

You could almost cry at the tender way he puts you down on the mattress, his face dewy and red from exertion, and adjusts the pillows beneath you, fluffing them how you like it. How he can so easily slip from being your insane freak in the sheets who hates you to your sweet, doting boyfriend is beyond you but it’s one of the many things you love so much about him. “Too much?” Your heart swells again at his loving tone as he coasts his hand down your torso, inspecting the indentations left on your waist from the desk to make sure they’re ones that won’t bruise.

You shake your head. “I can still remember my own name.”

“Dang, so I could do better,” he smirks.

Blowing a raspberry, you playfully smack the side of his head and he only chuckles and leans down to kiss you. Just as he brushes your lips, you push at his clothed shoulder, suddenly very much bothered by the fact that he is not completely naked yet.

“Shirt,” you mumble, tugging at his collar. “What about it?” “Off.”

He cocks a brow, mouth pulling up into a smirk. “Are you telling me what to do?”

“Yes. Problem?”

He hisses an amused sound, sits up on his knees and blinks down at you, lightly batting your hands away when you reach for the hem of his now unapproved fabric.

“We just went through all that, but you still want to have a fucking attitude?”

You withdraw your hands, rest them on your tummy as you look up at him sheepishly. He looks at you patiently, waiting for a response, but you don’t have one, so you instead raise your hands to the side in a shrug because what can you say? The smirk on his face grows until it turns into a laugh, and he kicks his head back. Fuck, you love his laugh. His shoulders start to shake, gummy grin on full display as he looks down at you through his stringy bangs, and you fall just that much more in love.

“It’s like that, huh?” He muses, coasting his hands up and down your thighs.

“It’s fun to piss you off,” you justify, holding your arms up in invitation and he pauses for a split second before lowering into your embrace.

“Yeah, and I know you have a blast doing it, much to my expense,” he mutters, letting you pepper his jaw with kisses. You giggle as you get over to his mouth and he opens up to swallow down your sounds.

As you makeout, his hips start to rock over yours under the covers, heavy cock desperate to fill you again so you trail your hands down to his ass, digging your go ahead into his skin. Keeping a hand next to your head and his tongue over yours, he reaches down to guide himself back in, humming when you moan in satisfaction. He lifts his head with a curse when you suck him in with ease, baring your neck to him that he nips before straightening his arm to plank above you. He stares down at you with lust-blown eyes as he takes your leg from under the sheets to rest on his shoulder. You bite your lip and grapple for his neck as he fucks into you slowly, hips rolling with deft, meaningful strokes. For a few moments he fucks you like that, reveling in your moans and whimpers, especially when he ducks his head to suck your tits into his mouth.

“Missed you, Yoon,” you whisper suddenly, blissed out and slack-jawed. He pauses his thrusts to put your leg back in place before dropping down to grab your hands and curl them under his, tongue licking roughly over the top of your mouth. Your chest heaves, breathing him in while he sucks on your lips and tongue.

“Missed you too, doll." His hips resume to a slow rhythm, and you let out a soft cry at the sensation of him filling you up to the brim despite never leaving.

You struggle to kiss him back as you get lost in the clouds again now that he’s rocking into you at a slower pace, pressing deeply into you so you can feel every inch of each other with every stroke.

“So fucking good for me,” he grumbles into your mouth, building rhythm as he brings himself to peak.

“Wanna be,” you slur.

“Hm?” His tongue pokes out as he focuses on rolling his hips against a tight, cushioned spot that kisses his tip and draws his orgasm closer.

“Wanna be so good for you. Always.” He grins, pride swelling his chest at your promise.

“Not for Hoseok?” Because he has to make sure.

“No,” you whimper, yanking at his chain to bring him down in a messy kiss. “Just you.”

He kisses you with a relieved smile, bites at your neck a few times, and slaps your hip.

“Then get up and ride me. I shouldn’t be doing all this fucking work,” he commands and slips out before pulling you up by the elbows. He crawls around you to sit against the headboard while you turn to face him and prop yourself up on shaking knees.

Noticing this, he pauses and holds you still. “Can you?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, confirming it with a sloppy kiss.

Grinning, he pulls you forward until you hover over his lap and fists his dick to hold himself in place while his other hand pushes you down by your hip. You grip his shoulders and whine as you sink onto him, waiting until you’re fully breached to start circling your hips. As you lean in to lick between his teeth, you rake your fingers down his chest, lightly scratching over his nipples and smiling when he moans.

“Shit,” he curses against you as you press your thumbs against his buds and he gets you back by attacking your neck with bites and bruises that you’ll have for days. You begin rolling in his lap and hold onto his shoulders for leverage, gasping when he wraps his arm across your waist to pull you closer so your breasts are right in his face and he attaches his mouth to one, leaning back on his hand to hold himself up.

He releases your tit with a pop and tilts his head to watch in content as your knees move to prop yourself up so you can bounce on his dick, appreciating his hand on your ass supporting and guiding you.

“Fuck, doll. Yeah, just like that,” He moans and breaks from your lips to throw his head back as his balls tighten, and you take your turn to make marks on his neck.

“Nngh, gonna come,” he groans deep in his gut, Adam’s apple bobbing and eyes squeezing shut as you continue to rock against him and it throws him over the edge. He pushes at your hips to force you off of him until you fall back once more on the mattress as he pulls out with a gasp. He growls and grunts as thick ropes of hot cum shoot out over your stomach and tits and you moan at the feeling and the sounds he makes.

“Goddamn,” he wheezes, jerking his dick through the final pulses of his orgasm and he grips your thigh to keep himself grounded. When his dick stops twitching, he falls back over to kiss you roughly.

“Close,” you tell him against his lips and he curses.

“Fuck, okay.” Anticipating being overstimulated but wanting nothing more than to satisfy you, he sits on his heels, pulls your hips onto his thighs and waits for your nod for him to plunge back in.

He wastes no time rutting into the very spot that he knows will guarantee you to come fast and hard. He has to bite his bottom lip to keep from whining at the overstimulation. But it proves fruitless when you pulse your orgasm around his dick, squeezing him so tight, that he starts to come again, encouraged by your endless moans of his name. He manages to keep his release at bay until he feels your wave wash back and yanks himself out at the last second so that he doesn’t give into temptation and come inside you. That level is on the horizon, but neither of you are quite ready for that. He knows just how addictive that will be and it’s too much of a risk.

So he opts to come on your stomach and chest for a second time, not bothering to jerk himself through it and just lets his cock bob on your center as he returns to his place above you. You open your mouth to welcome him before he even lands his fists beside your head.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he breathes over you, ducking his head into your neck so he can hear you whisper the same.

Dick softening on your lower stomach, he kisses you until his biceps strain under his weight.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, sitting back on his heels and smiling warmly (proudly) at your fucked out expression.

He presses his hands on your hips, heart racing when you won’t stop staring at him and he has to look away to prevent a rise in blood pressure, instead staring at all of his cum spread over you.

He looks back up when he catches your hand reaching for him and he grabs it, wrapping his fingers around your knuckles and bringing it to his lips to kiss your palm, eyes never leaving yours.

“What?” He asks as you pout. He kisses the inside of your wrist and you sigh, let his lips linger there and your heart stops for a moment at his tenderness.

With a smile and one more kiss on the back of your hand, he gets up and grabs a pair of sweatpants on the way to the bathroom, running a washcloth under warm water and wringing it out lightly before bringing it back to you to clean up his mess.

A moment later, he watches you with wide eyes as you slide out of bed and head to the bathroom without a word, albeit with a noticeable wobble. He sighs when the door shuts, getting the feeling that fucking the shit out of each other just now did nothing to solve your problems. While he waits for you to come back out, he strips the bed of soiled sheets to take out to the washer in the hallway closet. Just as he starts the cycle, you emerge from the bathroom, arms crossed over your breasts as you scurry into the bedroom to dress into his hoodie and a pair of his hoochie daddy shorts. You keep your head down while you walk past him for the kitchen, but he catches you with an arm pressed into your abdomen.

“Hey,” he murmurs above your head. “Whatever you’re thinking, you can tell me.”

You nod against his bicep, slipping your hand down to his fingers and tangling them together to lead him into the kitchen. He doesn’t take his hands off of you while you maneuver around to retrieve glasses of water for you both, but you end up just sharing yours. Neither of you say anything for a moment after you refresh yourselves. Then, his knuckles under your chin bring your face level with his, away from staring into the void behind his shoulder.

“The sex was good in there, but it didn’t resolve anything,” he reminds you softly. “We should talk it out before you get too far into your head.”

Fuck. He knows you so well. With a sigh and a blurry waterline, you lean against him, head resting on his shoulder so he doesn’t see.

“I just really missed you,” you start in a small voice. On your temple, he frowns. “And I know it’s kind of pathetic because we live together and you were only gone for three days but I just wish you would make up your mind about coming home or not. It’s just frustrating when you say you’ll be done in a couple hours but it turns out to be five. Or I wait up for you just for you to tell me you’re staying overnight. I know how important your work is, especially when you have a deadline, and I never want to take you away from it, but sometimes it feels like when I tell you to take a break, you act as if I’m asking you to stop altogether. I’m just trying to make sure you eat and rest properly so you don’t burn yourself out and get sick.” Your voice chokes the more you admit, and he lets your words hang in the air before rubbing his hand across the back of your shoulders. Resting his head on yours, he takes a deep breath.

“I love how supportive you are of my job and how much you worry about me, but I’m sorry I make you feel neglected. That’s never my intention.” You hum in acknowledgement and he squeezes the back of your neck.

“I mean, I’m not trying to dig myself out of the hole here, but a lot of the time when I come to a dead end with a project and feel like giving up, I think about you and how the faster I get done, the faster I can come home and devote all of my time to you.” You can’t hold back a sniffle. He frowns and gently pulls you by your shoulder and waist to press your fronts together. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest, along with your tears.

“I’m so sorry I made you upset, baby,” he whispers, his own voice choked up. “I just get stuck sometimes and it’s hard for me to give it a rest. Thank you for loving me so well that you knew when I needed you to come drag me out. And three days is way too long to not he home. I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t.” You swallow a sob and hold him tighter.

“Well, I’m sorry I made you think I wanted Hoseok to fuck me.”

His nostrils flare with a small laugh. “I know you were just trying to piss me off. But I don’t know if I want us to make each other jealous by doing that anymore, y’know?”

You nod in quick understanding and he purrs gratefully, lifts a hand to gently tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Because I guess sometimes I just worry that you could do better.”

Your limbs freeze as his words sink in and spreads your blood thin. Placing your hands on his hips, you lean away to look right at him, eyebrows furrowing at his pained smile.

“That has to be the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said.” Chewing the inside of his cheek, he suppresses a laugh.

“I’m serious.” You reach up to cup his jaw. “Don’t tell yourself that. I love you. You’re it for me, Yoongi.”

Starlight fills his eyes as he gazes down into your soul. He hugs you tightly, and whispers those same three words back, all of the weight he’s ever carried lifting off of his shoulders now that you’ve solidified that you’re his forever.

“I’m gonna do better to not spend so much time at the studio,” he promises, fingertips massaging the back of your head.

“Maybe just limit your overnighters to once a week.” He smiles, leans in to kiss you, hearts feeling warm and full. “I can work with that. And next time you want to blow me at work, try not to do it when one of my colleagues is in there.”

“Fine,” you sigh in exaggeration. “But at least admit that you liked it.”

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“Why not?” you challenge playfully. “It was a one time thing, so the least you can do is-” He cuts you off with a kiss that wipes your brain clear of any thoughts.

“You were saying?” he mumbles against your lips with a knowing smirk.

“Fuck if I know,” you breathe and he chuckles.

Leaning back in, he kisses you slowly, thoughtfully for a few moments, then breaks away with eyes hazed with love and boops your nose.

“Why don’t we go shower and get dressed so I can take you out on a date, hm? We’ll go wherever you’d like.”

A bright and wide smile on your face, you tangle both of your hands together and lean up to kiss him. He melts into you and your heart glows as radiant as the rising sun. You break, and your cheeks burn when you notice how his have turned a noticeable shade of pink.

“Let’s both decide on a place. But maybe tomorrow or the day after when I can walk a little better.” He grins and kisses your forehead, softly pats your ass.

“Sounds good to me.”

Thanks for reading! i've had this sitting in my drafts for a while and finally got the courage to post it so I hope you enjoyed! lmk what you think if you want! Also im the queen of run-on sentences so i apologize for that! And some of it might seem kind of rushed, but i was really trying to keep it under 10k.

xxx - claret

p.s. check out my yoongi mafia series not in the cards if you haven't already! thanks again!!

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beababoobies · 11 months ago

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Hey there you said you needed a Hazbin Hotel request? I got just the thing. Is it okay you do a Alastor x witch reader? Like reader was a witch before she died and is basically pretty powerful especially in magic? I like to think she covers up her body because she’s covered in tattoos that look like magic ruins or ritual symbols. Idk i just thought it would be cute of Alastor falling in love with a classy yet a badass witch who can put him in his place.

Heya Anon! Yes, Absolutely! I love my witchy friends (shoutout to Tatianna because she follows my blog.) I wasn’t sure exactly on which type of Witch you were referring to, so I decided on a random mix of diff witch cultures! Please shoot me a request if that’s not what you had in mind and I can re-write this for you. Thanks a ton for the request!

From Experience

Alastor x Fem!Witch!Reader

words : 1k , no warnings!

You let out a sigh as you started the spell you had been planning for weeks now. You had to go to Lust to get aphrodisiac rose powder, cannibal town to get the dried blood (and have a coffee and chat with Rosie, of course.) you even attended to Blood Moon festival very shortly to get some black tree root straight from the source from your friend Sally Mae. The candles had been lit - your spirit guides told you it was ready. You closed your eyes softly as you started to read out the incantation in your head.

You sighed softly through your nose as you felt yourself slowly start to float, the bone-marrow candles you had bought starting to glow a blood red colour as you felt the power of the spell start to wash over you, the magical ruins carved into your body lighting up, making you glow softly, and it was all coming together nicely, perfectly one might say -

“Hello, Darling!”

You let out a small scream and opened your eyes, falling to the floor with a small thud, groaning as you open your eyes to the familiar face smiling back at you, chuckling softly as you rub your head gently, rolling your eyes. Not an evil spirit. Okay, an evil spirit. But a very familiar one. “Alastor, what a surprise.” You said as he walked over to you, offering you his hand and you took it, hoisting yourself up and letting out a soft sigh as you saw the spilt wax across the floor.

“How rude of me to interrupt you! Allow me.” He hums softly, and you watch as the candles are returned back to their original state, turning back to him with a smile, brushing your now messed hair back into place, tilting your head. “Back again so soon?” You said with a chuckle, walking into your kitchen to get a cup of tea, him following quickly behind.

Now that you thought about it - he was back very, very soon. You had last seen him yesterday for lunch, and just two days before that for an evening stroll. After seven years of absence, you could’ve sworn you hadn’t even seen him this much before he disappeared. This meant he either needed something, or he was playing you in a big plan.

“Oh, well you just make the best steaming cup of chamomile, my dear.” He compliments, sitting at your small window-side table. You chuckled, taking a spoonful of the mix you had taken years to perfect, crushing the leaves, adding in just a bit of cinnamon. You had even figured out the best tea bags. Possibly your best spell ever. You dismissed your worries as your own overthinking, sighing as you poured the boiling water into the mugs.

“No sugar for you again?” You say, eyes not looking back at him as you pull the cane sugar out from your cabinet, spooning a couple helpings into your mug. “You know me too well, darling.” He says and you blush softly, putting the cane sugar back, bringing both the mugs to the table, placing one in front of him, and one in front of yourself.

“So, why are you back so quickly, hmm?” You said teasingly, leaning back in your chair, mixing the tea in your mug lazily, toying with the spoon as you watching him dip the boiling liquid - always uncanny, how he could do that - before looking back up at you.

“One could say I’ve taken a bit of a liking to you, my love.” He says with a smile, and you feel your face get hot - from more than just the steam from your tea. He chuckles softly at your reaction, taking another sip from his mug, leaning back in his chair and watching you try to find the right words. Platonically? It’s hard to decipher a man who’s walked out of a couple decades before your time.

“One might even say you… like me?” You say, testing the waters as you discard your cup back onto the table, crossing your arms over your chest, skepticism all over your expression causing Alastor to let out another chuckle. “One could say that. But I hate that way of saying it.” He responds flatly, putting his mug down as well, tilting his head at you. Trying to read a man who’s face was always carved into that sharp-toothed grin was hard.

“While we are speaking of taking a liking to things.” He says, holding out his hand, a small jar of black sand from the burning desert - one of a kind, unbelievably expensive, and your eyes widened. You swallowed thickly as you eyes the small vial, looking up at him with a small grin.

“I’m not giving you my soul for this. Tempting, though.” You said with a playful smile, watching him place it delicately on the table. “Oh, no, darling, it is yours for the price of this cup of tea. A friend gave it to me in exchange for a… favor.” He says with a small chuckle, watching you pick up the vial cautiously and inspect it, turning it upside down and watching the pitch black sand move around in the glass.

Oh, the things you could do with this.

“And why should I take your murder sand?” You say with a smile, looking back up at him as you toyed with vial carefully, raising your eyebrows, watching his eyes trail down to the vial and then back up to you.

“Well, I’ve heard it’s good for love spells.” He hums softly, taking another nonchalant sip of his tea, watching you nearly cough on your own spit over the statement, collecting yourself before piercing your lips together, eyes going from him to the vial over and over.

“And how would you know this, hmm? You some sort of ritual expert now?” You said with a playful smile and tone, clutching the vial in your hand and leaning forward, chin resting on your palm.

“Let’s just say I can speak from experience.”

#hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin #hellaverse #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you

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learnastrowallura · 4 months ago

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🕯Mercury in Astrology

Information is from Chris Brennan's video on The Astrology Podcast YouTube channel on the topic of Mercury significations <3

Mercury: writing, speech, words, message, reign, translation, conveying, transmitting, information, interpretations, numbers, analysis, reasoning, details, dialogue, exchange, money, businesses, contracts, commerce, negotiating, indecision, disputation, questioning, doubts, distractions, speed, variety, irregularity, verstatility, changing, adaptability, flexibility, instability, inconsistency, knowledge, philosophy, service, teaching, mind, intelligence, intellect, language, communication, learning, poetry, voice acting, narration, acting, sharing, masculine, neutrality

Sun and Mercury:

Sun and Mercury are both centered around intelligence but in different ways; they complete each other. Sun is about divine knowledge and Mercury is about conveying, transmitting or communicating that knowledge or even perhaps analyzing it and extracting more wisdom as well as detail from it so I found this point particularly interesting. Sun illuminates with its rays and gives clarity by providing us with the truth and then Mercury expands on that truth and shares it with others in its charming versatile way as well

Sun vs Mercury sign:

Mercury does not move further than 28 degrees from the Sun meaning that the Mercury sign will always be the sign before or after the Sun sign (zodiacal signs are divided into 30 degrees) and so there is a bit of a differentiation (for lack of a better word) between who we are and the way we communicate and exchange information with other people if the Mercury and Sun signs are not one of the same. First example that comes to mind is having an Aries Sun Taurus Mercury and two people who are quite close to me have these placements; you would not know they were Aries Suns unless u asked hahaha even though one of them is an Aries rising too so that is something I wanted to note as well. Another example would be Sagittarius sun with Scorpio Mercury adding a lot of intensity to the person's communication style as well (which is something I relate to as you will see later on)

Domicile and exaltation:

Sooo Mercury rules over Gemini and Virgo so those are its domicile signs, it is how Mercury can manifest itself most comfortably whilst embodying its true essence. And then Mercury has its exaltation in Virgo as well which is pretty unique might I say and this gives me the vibes of (this my own way of seeing it so take it with a grain of salt) Mercury being more constructive in the sign of Virgo versus in Gemini just because of this particular distinction

But speaking of these two signs I do think they embody their Mercurial energies quite differently and shoutout to my friend @saturnianoracle for giving me the key words to describe this. First of all they are both analytic but Virgo is more of a skeptic I feel while Gemini tends to have more of an open mind. Virgo wants to see the evidence behind certain things to determine the merit or validity, to a certain extent, of the topics at hand to then decides if it wants to invest energy into looking into it more. It is very grounded as well as organized. With Gemini there is a certain sense of childlike curiosity that takes hold of this sign making it want to explore deep topics and of course stimulate its mind; it dives in without thinking and is more disorganized, inconsistent and chaotic I would say, and it loves conversing about its findings as well. I saw a tiktok video ancient astrology based describing Virgo and Gemini as the most intuitive signs which was fascinating to be honest u can watch it here

Detriment and Fall:

Mercury has its detriment in Sagittarius/Pisces and its fall in the sign of Pisces as well and the interesting thing noted in the video I watched (mentioned at the start) is that Sagittarius and Pisces are ruled by Jupiter, the biggest planet ruling over expansion and abundance, and with Mercury being on the smaller side you can really see that distinction of the Mercurial signs really often looking at the detail of things and well in contrast the Jupiter signs seeing the bigger picture. Also Jupiter being a benefic and ruling over luck makes me think that having these two placements is honestly not so bad tbh

Mercury in first house:

Mercury has its planetary joy in the first house of the self, highlighting the utmost importance of the curious, inquisitive and messenger qualities of the planet. What is interesting is the neutrality of Mercury and how we can link that with its joy being in the 1st house; a house that can be above or below the horizon, so even in this regard it stays neutral and does not "pick a side" if that makes sense; "acting as a bridge between the upper and lower hemispheres of the chart, a bridge between the celestial and terrestial realms which are united in the degree of the ascendant".

Source for the planetery joy information is Hellenistic Astrology: The Study of Fate and Fortune by Chris Brennan

I have made a more detailed post on planetary joys so check it out <3

Neutrality:

Mercury is not seen as a benefic or a malefic; it is considered a neutral planet. Of course, its manifestation and expression can be positive, negative or stay neutral depending on a few factors, such as:

Being in its domicile (Gemini/Virgo) or its exaltation (Virgo) sign is gonna lead it to manifest in a more constructive/beneficial way

Being in its detriment (Sagittarius/Pisces) or its fall (Pisces) sign would generally lead it to manifest in a less constructive way

Aspecting a benefic planet (Jupiter/Venus) would lead Mercury in this instance to manifest in a more constructive way as it is said to adopt the traits of benefic planet it is associated with

Being in a benefic ruled sign; meaning a Jupiter ruled sign as mentioned beforehand (Sagittarius Mercury, Pisces Mercury) or a Venus ruled sign (Taurus Mercury, Libra Mercury) would manifest in the same manner mentioned above

Aspecting a malefic planet (Mars/Saturn) leads Mercury to take on the traits of that malefic planet as well

Being in a malefic ruled sign so either Mars ruled (Aries Mercury, Scorpio Mercury) or Saturn ruled (Capricorn Mercury, Aquarius Mercury) leads us to Mercury adapting to that malefic's traits again

Triplicity also matters and I will make a detailed post on it soon but for now all I can say is that having Mercury in an air sign (Gemini, Aquarius, or Libra) adds on to the "power" that the Mercury placement has within the chart and the support that it gives to the native; if we are dealing with a day chart then Mercury has moderate support in the air sign in question (Saturn being its triplicity lord), and if it is a night chart then it maintains a powerful position within the chart, being its own triplicity ruler. (Source for triplicity rulership intormation is Ancient Astrology: in Theory and Practice: A manual of Traditional Techniques, Volume One: Assessing Planetary Condition by Demetra George)

That is all!! I wanted to go into more detail tbh but time simply does not allow it these days as I have my internship going on as well but I hope this was informative haha

Thank you for reading <3

Masterlist

Paid readings open

#astrology #astro notes #astro community #astro observations #astro tumblr #astrology made easy #astrology basics #astrology tumblr #planetary joys #triplicity rulership #mercury #mercury in astrology #mercury in 1st house #ancient astrology #hellenistic astrology

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tiktaalic · 2 years ago

Note

neil has made himself such a nice little saw trap! if the kiss is a bait-n-switch he has Got to be sweating bc clearly it was meant as a fun lil 'treat' for the gays (no one expected a real kiss so fake kiss = no real disappointment + gifs of the coconuts), but now fans have months to build up excitement for real canon relationship and if it turns out to Not be that. well.

meanwhile on the off chance it Is cannon gay the man has spent years swearing up and down that his beautiful gay vision of two men being bros on screen is better than kissing and also it would be soooo disrespectful to Pratchet to make them gay (which they are, deeply and profoundly in gay people's heads, where it's most beautiful). so well if they kiss now either. he believed those things but you flash a dollar and he gets all gung-ho about disrespecting dead friends. or he never believed those things and has been manipulating gay people online for fun and profit and homophobia

such a pity much of the film fandom doesn't know how to bully an author, it'll be such a waste :( shoutout to the handful of GO fans fighting the tides to reclaim the natural order (if the author's not dead we'll murder him)

This is so succinct. Yeah. You’ve penned my huge jello blob of thoughts into something that makes sense. Like any way you slice it he has done something that deeply undermines dozens of emphatic posts he’s made about Integrity. Gay people joke? Hypocrite. Gay people real? Hypocrite. This is because he is a hypocrite who likes having his ego stroked before he is an ally or even. A friend to his dead friend. Sad!

#ask #anonymous

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circle-with-me · 1 year ago

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My, My, Those Eyes Like Fire

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Female Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, sex with strangers, panty sniffing (lol), creampie, bathroom/mirror sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

Taglist: @deathblacksmoke @concretenoah @tearfallpixie @nerdraging4point0 @lyschko666

Author’s Note: I saw this post the other day and @spicywhenspeaking’s little blurb gave me total brain rot so I thought I’d expand on it. I hope you enjoy it ♥️

Also second shoutout to @deathblacksmoke for being the best beta reader ever 🤍

You caught him staring not long after arriving at the party. His tall slender frame leaning back against the green velvet couch. His tattoo covered arms were stretched along the back as he took in your form. You felt his gaze burn into your skin and at first you refused to look at him.

A few moments later you pluck up the courage to sneak a peek at him. Thankfully, he was focusing on his friend who was somehow equally as gorgeous as he was. You turn your attention back to your admirer and you were certain he was the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on.

Your eyes scan over his jaw, neck, and shoulders assessing him completely and making mental notes of which parts you wanted to sink your teeth into first if you got the chance. You continue your assessment as you examine his chest and arms. One of his hands rested on his thigh, his long fingers were flexing and lightly gripping the fabric of his trousers. A nervous habit, you presume.. The thought of him gripping your hips as you bounces on his cock entered your mind and you bite your lip to hold back a moan.

You slowly lift your gaze up his body to find him staring at you again, a devilish smile on his face. Your breath hitches and he must have noticed because he raises an eyebrow at you. Slowly, he brings the hand that was resting on his thigh up to his face, flexing his hand and using his index finger to trace his bottom lip. Before you can catch yourself, your mouth drops open and the smile on his face turns into an outright grin.

You turn away quickly to hide the blush on your cheeks. Dammit. He caught you ogling him not once but twice, and what the fuck? Was he teasing you, now? Pushing down your embarrassment you decided that if he was going to play this game you were going to play too.

And you were going to win.

It may have been the alcohol, or the thought of this absurdly gorgeous man gawking at you, but as the night progressed you became much bolder. You start out with little teases. You want him to focus on your lips first, so you lick your lips as you talk to your friends. You remembered you had lip gloss so you reapplied it tediously, making sure to drag the brush slowly along your lips.

You even bought a margarita just to lick the salt rim from the glass. You weren’t typically a margarita girl, but since you had an audience you thought you’d make a show out of it. There was no point in checking, you knew his eyes were still on you. He had barely looked away from you all night.

When you bounce from your friend group to the bar you make sure to sway your hips as you walk. You bend over the bar slightly, making sure your dress raises a little, and look back to see him leaning forward resting his arms on his knees. He didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t checking out your ass.

Strike one, you giggle quietly to yourself.

Next, you play with the long necklace around your neck slowly dragging your hand down into your cleavage and letting your fingers linger there a little longer than usual. You catch him ogling again and his eyes meet yours. If he was embarrassed, he didn’t show it. You threw his signature devilish smile back at him and returned to your friends.

Strike two.

Your little game with each other continued for a while longer and you wondered if that’s all it would be. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch all night and there wasn’t enough alcohol at this party to get you to approach him.

If your teasing so far wasn’t enough to get him to make a move, you were going to take it up a notch.

You scan the room trying to find a reason to get closer to him. You weren’t going to say anything to him, but you figured closing the gap between the two of you would increase the tension. A familiar face comes into view on the second couch across from your admirer and you practically trip over yourself to take the seat next to them before someone else does.

As you walk in his direction his eyes widen and you watch him swallow harshly. Your heart rate quickens and you consider just saying hi, but you wanted to see if this last idea of yours would work on him.

You wait until you’re almost right in front of him before you take a sharp turn towards your friend. You sit down and strike up a conversation about nothing in particular. You sit at the edge of the couch with your legs crossed, giving the man across from you the perfect view of your legs and thighs.

You delicately run your hand up your thigh and back down to your knee, repeating the motion a few times. You hear him clear his throat and you look towards. His eyes are locked on your hand as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

Strike three.

Running your hand down to your knee one last time you don’t stop this time and continue down the rest of your leg bending over to “adjust” the strap of your shoe. You watch his eyes move with your hand the whole time and drift up your leg to your breasts that are spilling out of the top of your dress.

He leans forward and licks his lips, nostrils flaring. Even in the low lighting you can see his eyes darken. His gaze returns to yours and he subtly jerks his head in the direction of what you assumed to be the bathroom. Your mouth goes dry because holy shit this is actually happening.

Wasting no time, you stand up from your seat and do as you're told. Sure enough, not far down the hallway there was a bathroom. You slip in and shut the door behind you, leaning against the door and trying to control your breathing. The gentle knock on the door startles you and makes you jump a little.

That was quick.

You turn around to open the door. You’ve barely cracked it and he’s pushing in, backing you into the counter behind you. He rests one hand firmly on your hip and the other wraps around your jaw forcing you to look up at him. The realization of how big he is settles in quickly because he’s towering over you and you’re not exactly short, especially in heels.

He runs the pad of his thumb along your lips, silently asking for access and you open your mouth. He pushes inside and you suck on his thumb, twirling your tongue around him. A quiet groan escapes his mouth as he stares at yours.

He shoves his knee in between your legs and you grind down on him involuntarily. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he envelopes your mouth in a searing kiss. It’s desperate, needy, and makes you grind against him more for some relief from your throbbing pussy.

He grabs the hem of your dress and bunches it up around your waist, gripping your hips tightly. He pushes his hand between your legs and moans at the soaked lace material he finds. “All this from our little game, huh?” he rasps, sinking his teeth into the flesh behind your ear.

You gasp and nod. Those were the first words you had heard him speak and you hoped to hell you would hear more. You didn’t even know the man’s name and here you were pinned against the bathroom counter with him rutting against your thigh.

He pulls your panties down, bending down to retrieve them from your ankles. He bunches up the material and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. You watch intently as his eyes turn black with lust and he slips your undergarment in his pocket.

Without saying a word he twirls his finger motioning for you to turn around. You do as you're told and you feel his hand press firmly into your back as he bends you over the counter. You watch him in the mirror as he runs his hand around the curve of your ass, gripping and kneading at the flesh. His eyes are glued to your pussy and he smacks your ass firmly causing you to jolt forward.

You hear him groan behind you, then he runs his fingers through your folds, slipping one inside you with ease. He curls his finger and pumps in and out of you slowly. You clench around him and a quiet “oh fuck” falls from his lips.

You watch him fumble with his belt and push his pants and his boxers down, his cock springing free. He strokes himself a few times and licks his lips. He removes his eyes from your pussy and makes eye contact with you. The devilish grin from earlier returns and he bends over you, his chest flush against your back. He grips your hair and pulls your head to the side and leaves a trail of open mouth kisses up your neck and jaw.

Your intense stare down continues as he grabs his cock and places it at your entrance. The smile on his face is replaced with a look of pure lust and he slams into you with a single thrust, both of you moaning loudly at the feeling.

He sets a brutal pace immediately giving you no time to adjust to his size. His harsh shallow thrusts cause your hips to dig into the countertop. It’s slightly painful but the tip of his cock is hitting that spot and you’d proudly wear any bruises or marks for this. He pushes off of your back and grabs handfuls of your ass, forcing your hips back into his.

You gave up on trying to be quiet and let your moans fly free. The music from the party was still playing in the background and this man felt so good you didn’t care who heard. In fact, you wanted everyone to hear. He wasn’t particularly loud, but his panting breaths and quiet “fucks” as he watched where the two of you were connected told you enough.

You feel your climax building and you selfishly needed even more from him. You push your hips back to meet his and it feels so good your vision is blurring. You hear him moan “Oh god” loudly and look back into the mirror. Through your blissed out vision you can still see him, his eyes shut tight and head tilted back. His mouth is hanging open as he moans louder. You notice a sheen of sweat on his face and his exposed neck and you wish you could bite into his neck.

As if he could feel you staring, he looks back at you. He smirks at you and pounds into you harder. You were thankful for the countertop below you because your arms and legs were completely useless at this point. He sneaks his hand between your legs and massages your clit. You reach behind you and grab his arm to find some sort of purchase as your orgasm quickly washes over you.

You convulse and shake around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm. His fingers don’t leave your sensitive bud until you're scratching at his arm and practically forcing it away. He pulls you up against his chest and fucks into you, wrapping his hand gently around your throat. You can tell from his quickened panting and sloppy thrusts that he’s near his climax as well.

The hand around your throat slides up to your cheek and he brings your lips to his. It’s all tongue and teeth and you almost sense desperation in it, like he doesn’t want it to end. You pant into each other’s mouths as he continues his thrusts.

“Please” he whines, breathlessly.

You knew exactly what he wanted. You didn’t even have to ask. You nodded and kissed him again. He grunts and thrusts into you one last time. You feel his cock twitch and ropes of cum painting your walls. He stays inside you for a moment, his lips attached to yours trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he pulls out of you and you wince from the loss of him. Stuffing himself back into his pants, he searches the cabinet for a washcloth. He wets the cloth with warm water and softly pats the side of your leg to get you to spread them. After he cleans you up he throws the cloth in the hamper, and turns to you. You haven’t moved a muscle so he pulls down your dress and adjusts the straps on your shoulders.

You stare at each other for a second and this time you can’t read his expression. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and turns towards the door, slipping out without saying a word.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #bad omens x reader #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens smut

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sozila · 6 months ago

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convalescence. (sukuna x reader)

synopsis: convalescence noun. time spent recovering from an illness or medical treatment; recuperation. ryomen s. itadori was a disease that infected every part of your life, and you didn’t notice until it was too late.

pairing: best friend's older brother!ryomen s. itadori x pre-med uni student!fem reader.

warnings: explicit content eventually, mdni. mentions of sexual assault.

masterlist | previous | next

you are on: incubation. (part three)

a/n:

i'm so sorry this took literally forever to release! i was writing parts of the nanami fic and this chapter simultaneously, and then got really busy in between :( as an apology, wc for this chapter is 7.3k!! biggest shoutout to @beeh-ive, my one and only beta reader <3 ilysm and you are my iv, my lifeline. mwahs. anyways i hope you enjoy!!

ao3 link here.

incubation. (part three)

sukuna kept the hello kitty band-aids you gave him in his wallet.

he had no intention of using them, though he kept telling himself they were there if he needed some in an emergency. if that was the case, they wouldn’t be sitting in the photo pocket where he could see anytime he opened his wallet.

what he forgot was that anyone else could also see them in his wallet, in all their flashy pink glory. that brings him here; when he begrudgingly pulls it out to pay for gojo’s food and he hears the brat start ooh-ing at the sight of them.

“aww ‘kuna, when were you gonna tell me you got a girl?”

he prods around sukuna hoping to sneak a glance at any other evidence. albeit sukuna didn’t hold anything else of yours, he sure as hell didn’t need fucking gojo knowing anything. before he could continue with his trifling, the cafeteria attendant hands sukuna his card back and he shuts the wallet with a quick slap, thrusting the tray into the over-curious man.

“shut the fuck up and eat your damn food. moocher,” he grumbles under his breath as he walks far ahead of gojo, who was skipping behind him like a satisfied child. satoru knew that the band-aids could just be a fluke, but he knew better than to overlook such a detail if it gave headway to bothering his grumpy friend. you think satoru gojo would miss the detail of seeing you on his motorcycle that night? no one was allowed to ride with sukuna minus his family. all he knew now was that he kept an eye peeled for you, the girl that sukuna threw punches for a couple nights ago.

geto’s eyes flick up from his phone when the two reach the table he and shoko were already sat at and nods in greeting. “got my fries, bossman?” sukuna slides a container of fries to shoko and she puts her palms together in thanks towards him, already digging in.

geto turns to the older itadori, brows knitted. “i didn’t want to grill you at the house, but todo found out about the mahito shit.” sukuna rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, sinking more into the chair. “you saw what the fucker did. you think i was gonna let my little bro’s friend get felt up by a frat brother?” geto sighs and puts his phone on the table. “i let you get some in because he touched her. but it’s not a good look when other frats saw an upperclassman beat up his younger out of the blue. todo says he’ll let it slide because of the circumstances, but next time, he’s gonna call an advisory meeting.”

sukuna was irritated beyond belief. so sukuna was on thin ice, and mahito was facing nothing because he got his shit rocked? he scoffed. this was the exact reason he couldn’t be on the executive board for the organization. “whatever, man. i would’ve done the same even if it wasn’t a brother.” geto nods solemnly. “as a person and your friend, i don’t see anything wrong, trust. but as the vice, i have to tell you this so you’re aware. rules are shitty, i know that the most,”

geto seemed genuinely apologetic so sukuna lightened up a tad. as the year had progressed, he could tell geto was getting fed up with dealing with social events and conflict resolution at the fraternity house. sukuna was surprised that todo was also slipping in his spirits, considering how proudly he boasted and enacted his duties as fraternity president. there’s no way he was able to make the decision to warn sukuna without feeling bad. todo was big on making the “respect women” rhetoric heavily enforced amongst them– so sukuna boiled it down to the answer that the panhellenic caught drift of the fight and made a push on todo. it checked out. the main board always did drown out scandals and washed blood from the hands of their brothers, unfortunately. therefore, sukuna was grateful this was his last year in the wretched organization as an active. he was only here because his grandpa was an alum anyways.

“yeah, i don’t give a fuck about that consequence bullshit, geto. mojito got his ass kicked for touching up a girl, the end.” shoko pipes up, not looking up from her food.

satoru bursts into a cackle, his drink spitting out a little. “shoko, his name’s mahito!”

she gives him a grimace of disgust. “the fuck? mahito, mojito.. bitches need to get better names, i swear to god.”

“...and then megumi told him to eat a dick, can you believe it? i think the guy was too embarrassed to say anything after that–”

yuuji was raving about something that happened in his design class that you thought was just so yuuji of him to find hilarious. you laugh at his recreation of the scene, only to stop with the sight you caught from across the pavilion.

it was a familiar 6 foot 5 inches of black leather and faded jeans. your cheeks heat at the memory of your last exchange from the past weekend. his hands brushing yours, your eyes watching the drop of his eyelashes, your lips inches from his enough so you could feel his warm breath– you had to shake the thought away. it was inappropriate to assume that anything was even going to happen. you notice sukuna wasn’t alone. he was walking with the same brown haired girl from the party. the pretty one in the little black dress, you remember. she was in deep conversation as they walked, and sukuna seemed awfully in tandem with her.

what, why did you even care? it wasn’t like you harbored any interest in the older itadori anyways. he was bad news all around, too brash for your liking. did you forget how every person you knew thought he was an asshole, save for his brother? he’s only ever insulted you! you bet he took you home out of necessity, you would imagine he’d get a scolding from yuuji if he found out sukuna could have helped you and didn’t. he was nothing more than your best friend’s emotionally-constipated older brother.

but.. you didn’t let your brain register that your heart sank at scenarios in your head between him and that cooler girl. she was definitely more fitting to sukuna’s type, you were sure. her style was more mature, and aesthetically matched his. she wore demonias and you had a collection of mary janes. she probably didn’t even own any pink glitter ribbons, like the ones you liked to wear.

“aww, you always do this! are you even paying attention to me?” you snap out of the gloomy bubble you were ruminating in. you were too focused on a man that didn’t even appear in the same social circles as you, how pathetic! you had bigger things to worry about, too. your shiny new internship was waiting for you. yuuji gave you a whiny tug and leaned his head on your shoulder, enlisting a chuckle and shove from you. he truly had the face of a puppy. “okay, okay! you have my full presence now, you big baby.” yuuji beams at you with a goofy grin. he continues on, animatedly, distracting you from the revelations you’d made. what you didn’t catch was that he followed your line of vision when your mood dropped, and was well aware it had something to do with his brother..? he had every intention of finding out why.

the both of you enter the lecture auditorium and you tap into your rhythm again, forgetting your gloom. physics was easy for you to lose your brain into as the subject was satisfying once you got the hang of it. on the other hand, yuuji found it unnecessarily confusing and ended up needing your help from time to time. after the three hour lecture, your professor informed the class that you were to work on a project that weighed a quarter of your grade for the course. it was allowed to have a partner, but you could work individually if you wished. while you preferred doing such high-risk assignments by yourself, you couldn’t say no to the same puppy face that mouthed pleads to you. when you pack your things and go down to write your choice on the professor’s clipboard, you add “yuuji itadori” next to your name. “did i ever tell you i love you more than nobara and megs? you should know that,” he loops an arm around your neck and ruffles your hair, tousling the hairdo you had it in. you chortle. “you owe me like, thirty coffees.” “heard loud and clear, cap’n!” you decide that it would be best to start working right away and yuuji tells you they should work at his place so he could shower you with snacks and things (look at him, already living up to his deal). obviously there was no way in hell you’re passing that up, and you get to hang out with your lovely best friend for another couple hours. a total win-win.

10:00 P.M.

whoever said this was a good idea was a big fat liar. you were on the fifth reiteration of the same problem you were trying to explain to yuuji and he looked like his brain was going to spontaneously combust from the words you were throwing at him. “wait, what do you mean hooke’s law applies here?! i’m so loooost!” he threw his hands up in defeat and slumps on the coffee table, face mushed into the glass.

“we need to take a break or i might die…”

you sigh and shut your laptop. “me too. i think i forgot what i said as soon as i told you.”

you pick up an unopened bag of doritos and toss it to yuuji’s head. “nothing like red 40 to clear your sadness, though,” he moans in agreement and reaches for the bag, his head still stationary to the table. you dig in the tray of snacks for a packet for yourself when you hear the front door unlock.

in comes the same leather jacket and faded jeans, along with a bunch of grocery bags in each hand. they looked extremely heavy altogether, but he seemed to carry them with no real effort. he sets them on the kitchen island and peers at the two of you in the living room. sukuna’s face shifts slightly when his eyes land on you. you turn your head away with a jolt.

“got your shit, yuu,” he calls.

the younger itadori lifts his head finally to look for his brother, throwing him a thumbs-up.

you pretend to be immensely busy with your search for chips when you felt him walk by, and out of the corner of your eye you could see him glance at you as he goes up the stairs.

of course he would stop by when you were trying to forget about his existence. but again, why did you care?

yuuji peeks at both of your reactions and frowns. he didn’t like this one bit. at best, sukuna was just being his usual rude self to you. at worst, something was happening between his best friend and his older brother… eughhh. the thought made him writhe a little. he knew that nothing good would come out of it for either of you. growing up with a brother like sukuna.. he knew how he could get.

“i hate you so much! you’re pushing dad away!” sukuna throws the first thing he sees at the woman in front of him. her eyes are dim with guilt. “ryomen, you know it’s not like that..” her words fall in nothingness, and she falters. what could she say? her red fingernails fumble with the button on her suitcase. “you’re throwing us away! you’re leaving me and yuuji for that ugly stupid man!” he screams in anger, but tears are flowing heavily over his bruised face. yuuji watched as his brother berated their mother, helpless. he wanted to tell him to stop, that this was too much.. he shut his eyes tightly and imagined the day before, when they were going out for ice cream instead. the giggles they had, his mother wiping his chubby chin with her sleeve, the game of hide and seek he and his brother shared at the neighborhood park. “yuuji, my messy boy,” his mother cooed, eyes crinkling with a smile. her blouse billowed with the summer wind. heavy footsteps broke the evocation, and from the crack of the door he saw another figure. no! he clamped his tiny hands over his ears until they went white, knees to his nose. the smell of his mother’s perfume in the dark closet helped him go back– to tune out the muffled sounds of fighting. the voices of his mother, his grandpa, and that man ebbed away. slowly, he drifted, his mind crystal blue.. the only thought left was the taste of chocolate and his mother’s soft caress; a silent requiem.

yeah, fuck that. and fuck him for trying to mess around with your head.

yuuji throws a dorito at you. you make a sound of annoyance and throw one of your own in retaliation. he giggles. “wanna go get banana milk?” you stretch your arms above your head with a yawn, cracking your fingers. “yeah, we could use some fresh air.” he hops up immediately and goes to put on his shoes. “hey, ryo, we’re going to the convenience store for milk, be back soon!” he yells from below the stairs. you hear him give a grunt of acknowledgement from above and you both make your way to take your minds off things. it wasn’t just physics that lay heavy on your hearts.

as soon as sukuna’s saw yuuji’s text that he would be studying with “a friend”, he was already speeding through his last repair at the shop. choso, his cousin-slash-coworker, nearly yells at him with the speed he was screwing the bolts back in on the vehicle. no matter. he’d done this same shit a million times over, it was like clockwork. he changed out of the oily uniform and got on his bike before he could get a proper scolding. he shoots a reply.

“bringing groceries. be there in 20.”

he tucks his phone away before yuuji could deny him. and just like that, he was lumbering to the elevator of yuuji’s complex with a giant load of bags in each hand. it was insanely efficient, if he said so himself( sukuna was conveniently leaving out the part where he switched out his bike and borrowed satoru’s camaro to make the aforementioned grocery trip, but he digresses).

he entered the apartment with a little difficulty, but it was worth it when he saw the mary janes sitting neatly on the shoe rack.

when he sets the bags on the counter, he looks to the living room to see you looking at him with that gorgeous face of yours. something about your complexion was so naturally saccharine, like you radiated sunlight.

he raises his hand to give a small wave but falters midway seeing your expression flip, snapping away from his gaze with your face flushed with an emotion he couldn’t decipher.

sukuna was mildly confused. weren’t you on new terms since that night? not even a bit?

“got your shit, yuu,” the kid throws a thumbs up.

as he takes off his jacket, he finds himself glancing repeatedly at your now-nervous form. he couldn’t help feel a little irritated. sukuna was seemingly the only one exempt from your natural state, for whatever reason(sukuna’s aloofness to the fact 1. you both met officially only two weeks ago and 2. the amount of times he’s argued with you, was borderline insane).

you were wearing a different set of ribbons today, a pale lavender in hue. he wondered how many more were in your collection. the outfit you wore was simple but flattering, albeit he couldn’t see it properly.

a chuckle rumbles his throat when his focus shifts to see your face was almost entirely inside the tray of chips, doing anything to avoid small-talk he assumed.

his brother was slumped on the other side of the table as well, and he just shakes his head. it always was hard to tutor yuuji, the little brat was just so hyper. he says a silent prayer for you and walks up the stairs without another word.

he’d talk to you tonight eventually, he would make sure of that.

the street was mostly empty and dark, save for the streetlights marking your path back. the trip was fairly short but you and yuuji were walking at a leisurely pace, sipping on the tiny drinks. yuuji hesitates to ask you about sukuna, so he settles for talking about the party.

“so how’d you like the party? i was totally shitfaced, so i never got to ask you,” he joyfully perked up. you sigh and look at him with a small accusatory smile. “yeah, you totally left me in the dust, whore. the party was okay, i guess. i did meet this cool guy,” you began.

yuuji ooh’s and bumps your shoulder with his. “well, don’t just say that and stop! tell me more,” he eggs you on in a lilty tone. “actually, he said he knew you. his name was suguru,” yuuji snaps and shakes a finger in the air. “yeah i do! he’s super chill, one of sukuna’s frat brothers. he’s the vp for the fraternity!” your eyebrows lift in surprise a little. “oh wow. i didn’t know he was the vp,” you murmured, taking the information in thoughtfully. so suguru was more than just affiliated, he was practically running the show. and he was close with sukuna, which was kind of unfortunate. so much for having an interest in someone decent. “yup! he doesn’t seem the type, but he does a good job. or so i’ve been told by gojo and ryo,” he laughs, taking another sip.

“sooo… anything i missed at the party?” you were hoping he wouldn’t ask, but you assumed it would’ve come up eventually. you nod and sigh, looking up at the dark sky. yuuji slows down to a stop, brows cinched together. “something bad happened?” his voice drops to a lower, more serious tone.

“when you guys left, i ended up bumping into this really sleazy guy.. i guess he was trying to flirt with me?” you began.

yuuji looked visibly enraged, his eyes twitching. “go on.”

“he didn’t end up doing anything crazy because megumi came, but he did.. grope me.” you mumbled.

this was so stupid, you genuinely wanted to forget it even happened. you hadn’t put a ton of thought on the event until you recounted it, and it left a pit in your stomach.

yuuji crushed the milk carton in his hand and started walking faster. “i’m calling suguru and figuring out who the fuck that was, there is NO WAY–”

your eyes widen as his usually innocent and sunshine personality switches to an aggressive demeanor. you catch up to him and stop him from starting a second round of fighting. man, maybe yuuji was related to sukuna– the way both of them reacted instantly was too alike.

“wait! oh my god, hold on!” your hands push into his chest and he looks at you incredulously. “he got beat up at the party! he got what he deserved,” yuuji looked properly confused.

“megumi never told me he beat up someone, what?”

“it wasn’t megumi, yuu! it was sukuna.”

his face dropped the confusion and something unreadable replaced it. “...oh, i see. he saw that shit happen to you then?”

your face blanched. you didn’t think about that. did sukuna just watch you get assaulted? you wracked your brain to figure out the chronological order of events, but the adrenaline in the memory made everything a blur. “i.. i don’t know, maybe!”

yuuji’s face hardened. “and he did nothing to stop it?”

you had to defend sukuna, he literally beat up the slimeball for you. there was definitely something you were missing, but you didn’t know what. your voice was wavering. “megumi stopped it, so it’s fine, yuu! can we drop it now? please?”

yuuji notices that this was getting hard for you to talk about, and his anger for his brother was getting displaced onto you. he softens, shoulders untensing. “I’m sorry, [name]. that was shitty of me to grill you.” he looks away, a guilty look falling on him. you wrap your arms around his torso and squeeze lightly. “it’s okay, yuu. i know you’re just worried for me. i really appreciate it.” he squeezes you back tighter. “i feel horrible that i was trashed and did nothing to help you. that’s so not what a best friend should do,” he says into your hair. you sigh, cheek pressed on his chest. “seriously, i don’t blame you. i just.. don’t know how to feel about it yet, so be patient with me.” he squeezes you tighter. “i’m gonna be here for you always, babe. nobara, megs, all of us okay? if you ever need to talk about it don’t hesitate. i love you so much,” your heart swells with warmth. you knew how much your friends cared for you, you never had a doubt about it. “you’re gonna make a bitch cry, yuuji, seriously,” you fake punch him in the stomach and he doubles over groaning, playing along. “now, i’m going to teach you that physics problem and you’re going to understand it,” you pull away from his chest to shake a strict finger at him, lips quirking in a smile. he gives you a firm salute and starts bounding to the apartments. “sir yes sir!”

when you entered the flat again, you make a beeline towards the bathroom upstairs. you hadn’t noticed your eyes got teary enough to smudge your makeup during your heart to heart with yuuji. he was bent over with laughter when he showed your raccoon face to you in his phone’s front camera, earning him a smack.

you’re looking down at your own phone as you walk up the stairs to take a better look, when you’re met with a wall you didn’t notice before. or wait.. a firm surface? sukuna has an arm propped on the wall before the bathroom, and he was looking straight down at you.

your face goes red immediately, and you can’t back up because you’d end up tumbling down the stairs. a weird checkmate. “so what’s with you avoiding– why are your eyes like that?” his eyebrows go from serious to confused. you frown up at him and start wiping at them. “is it really that bad? god…” a rough hand holds your chin and pushes your head up, the other rubbing under your eye gently with his thumb.

“you cryin’, sweetheart?”

his voice rumbled in a whisper, breath on fanning on your lips. your heart was pounding so hard in your ears you barely heard him. you were so close you could see his stubble, the scar on his upper lip, even the intricacy of his neck tattoo.

“no, i wasn’t, well– actually i was, but not for the reason you think-”

your eyes drift to the bathroom door as you ramble until the hand that was holding your chin is now wrapped around the small of your back, just shy of your ass.

you shut up.

he smirks.

“alright, you just look like a panda then. now, are you gonna tell me why you're avoiding me?”

your face pulls into a mild glower. “i’m not avoiding you, what?”

“yeah, you are. didn’t say hi to me.” your hands press on his chest to ease from the proximity. you notice he’s wearing a wife pleaser like the first day you met him. what was your mind going to? your eyes flick back up quickly and narrow at him.

“we’re not even friends, why would i say hi to you?”

his head leans closer to yours, noses almost touching. "didn't yuuji tell you to get along with me?"

you glare. "he never said that, asshole."

sukuna gave you a vexed look. did you expect him to remember the words verbatim? "okay, he said some bullshit about warming up to each other! god, you're so difficult."

"me? difficult?” a scoff leaves your lips. all you could think was that the audacity of this man was unbelievable. “you are literally cornering me to talk to me!" you gesture to the position you were both in, but he didn’t seem to budge.

sukuna huffs, almost petulantly. you try to push him away, but the grip of his hand on your back wasn’t letting you go. he didn’t get the answer he needed from you, and he wasn’t going to let you leave without it. between the party and now, something had happened for you to act so differently. you were so soft and open with him that night, but now? it was back to square one.

“...you’re still in the way! seriously sukuna, what do you want from me?” you were exasperated at this point. his insistence would be endearing, if he wasn’t such a major fuckwad. honestly, out of every girl he could have bothered, he had to choose you? where was that other girl he was so stuck to anyway? why couldn’t he have just called her instead of holding you hostage and bombarding you with questions about your attitude? your irritation was growing, and his lack of response only proved to increase your frustration. why was he just looking at you?

sukuna was wracking his brain to form a coherent thought after you dropped that bomb on him. what did he want from you? this was unlike him to chase after a girl, and to almost harass her over a simple ‘hi’? he was obsessed over what? fucking hello kitty band-aids. he’s barely keeping his hands off of you with the way you were staring at him, assessing his every feature. your cheeks were puffed and rosy, your eyes still blotchy with mascara but god, you looked so perfect standing before him. he wanted to kiss you. he wanted to kiss you so bad. he wanted to kiss you that night when you told him his eyes were sanguine red. what the fuck did that even mean? he had to look that shit up and lo and behold, it was the perfect shade match. you were so fucking smart it pissed him off. he enjoyed riling you up by telling you otherwise. he wanted to yank those lavender ribbons out of your hair and never give them back. it was so perverse; the way he was holding you wasn’t enough for him. you smelled like honey and sandalwood, he couldn’t get that out of his head ever since you rode behind him on his motorcycle. he wanted his bed to smell like you. he longed to wake up there and it would be the first thing to hit his senses. this was testing his restraint in ways he didn’t know existed. he knew he couldn’t cross that line, this was mental to even consider doing! what was doing him in so badly?? even he didn’t know what had gotten into him. all he knew was that he felt a little more than just irked you were taking precautions to avoid interaction, especially when he was dying internally to merely hold your gaze.

“y’know, i really need to go to the bathroom, so if you have nothing to say to me, i’m leaving. stick to teasing other girls.” a pregnant pause. his face fell at your last sentence, it definitely held some edge on your tone. sukuna shifted, a hand going up to your cheek. you scrunch your brows in flushed inquisition. he looks to the side before bringing his eyes back to you. they appeared poignant, almost wistful. you weren’t able to discern why, though. his voice was more delicate this time.

“..did you feel–”

“you okay babe?” yuuji’s voice from below snaps both of you out of your heated exchange. sukuna’s hands drop from you like they never belonged there to begin with. you take the opportunity to finally go to the bathroom, accidentally shouldering sukuna as you push past him. yuuji’s worried expression immediately becomes one of annoyance as he watches his brother come down instead, sourness cast on his rough face. “are you kidding me? what was that about?” yuuji had his arms crossed, jaw ticking. sukuna halts and turns to face him. “mind your fuckin’ business, brat.” yuuji bites back an insult, opting to check up on you instead. he knew he couldn’t start something with sukuna when you were home as well.

yuuji knocks on the door of the bathroom. “did sukuna say anything to you?” you were in the middle of splashing water to cool your flaming cheeks. “no, it’s fine! don’t even worry,” you call back loudly, drying your face in a manner that was definitely too rough on the skin.

your mind was racing with images of sukuna, his lips, the feel of him holding you, his cologne stuck in your nose– coming to do physics at the apartment was supposed to be a distraction from what was going on between you two. how come when you threw yourself more into your work, this idiot would weasel his way back to you!

you look at yourself in the mirror and you cringe at the sight. yikes. the combination of no makeup and your blotchiness was not the best. as you go to pick up your phone from the counter, you see the time flash. 2:35AM. you were an hour past the time you wanted to leave, you had an 8am that next day. technically, it was already the next day.. you wince. sighing and opening the door, and there was yuuji. “i know i said we need to finish the problems, but i’m really tired yuu,” you admit with a nervous laugh. “i have anatomy and physiology at 8 tomorrow, and i can totally explain it to you at lunch! right?” this had got to be the lamest excuse. coming from you, the person who never avoided doing work, it was suspicious to say the least. the morning class was buyable, but procrastination was not in your vocabulary. yuuji suffered firsthand from you about it. he raises a brow. “aaalright, no worries. don’t have to tell me twice.” he laughs back weakly. this was becoming extremely awkward. both of you were acting off and the silence that followed did not help either of your cases. “okay! so i’m just gonna head home, get my things, yup!” your voice was weirdly pitchy and before yuuji could question it, you were already down the stairs in a blast. “wha– girl, it's way too dark out!” he calls after you.

you start collecting your computer and belongings into your tote bag, quickly moving. you almost trip over while putting on your shoes, slipping them on carelessly. sukuna had rounded the corner from the kitchen upon hearing your commotion, yuuji on his tail. “whoa, you’re goin’ now? it’s too late at night, let me–” you throw a hand in sukuna’s face. “you’re not giving me a ride, i brought my car.” having another experience of prolonged close proximity with him in the same night was too much for you to handle. besides, this time you thankfully had a saving grace. barely. “at least let me walk you down, it’s dark as hell outside.” sukuna looked sincere in his concern, but yuuji was eyeing him indignantly. “you okay with that, babe?” yuuji gives you a face that says it was okay to say no, but you nod your head in reassurance. “yeah, it’s fine. i’ll see you tomorrow, yuu.” you blow him a small kiss with your two fingers like you usually did, and he mirrors it back. sukuna puts on the first pair of shoes he sees, already halfway out the door when you turn back around. he gestures to you to get a move on with his head, earning an eye roll from you.

you walk out and he closes the door behind you, giving yuuji one last wave. the walk down to your car was wordless, and sukuna didn't look at you once. better than him looking at you fervently, you suppose. when you step into the driver’s seat and reach to close the door, he stops you. his tall figure crouches down to meet your level, now meeting your gawking stare. again?

“you didn’t let me finish earlier.”

your eyes dart to the console, fingers fidgeting. “okay, out with it then,” you mumbled.

“i wanted to ask you if you felt the same shit i felt that night when you told me that stuff about my eyes.”

his body language was firmly attentive to you, but his voice had a weird waver to it. he remembered what you said about his eyes? what did he mean, feel the same shit? the silver chain around his neck dangled between the both of you, glinting in the streetlight as it moved. you noticed he was breathing deeply. nervously? what the fuck. “what are you talking about?” he silently cursed and readjusted his footing, clearly uncomfortable with the fact he needed to spell it out. he wasn’t exactly in touch with his emotions. “you really are the most difficult fuckin’ girl i’ve ever met, fuckin’ hell. just tell me what you meant by it.” you peer at him from the side of your eyes, trying to search his face. you were pretty confused at what he was trying to get at overall, but you just answered his question. “nothing. your eyes are just sanguine red. i like that color.” his lips quirk up and he angles his head at you. “you like my eyes?” your face flames. “i said i liked the color! what is it with you and mishearing people?” you throw back. with a huff you turn the key to turn on the engine, which prompted him to move out of the way so you could shut the door, him laughing at your irritation. he knocks on the window and motions you to lower it. you oblige angrily.

“you literally have 10 seconds or i swear to god i’m running over your toes.” you seethe.

his stupidly handsome face was just egging you on. his hair was tousled, the wind breezing through it gently and he looked unfairly good. you shivered with the chill going up your neck. he licks his lips and you watch it shamelessly. he notes this.

“just tellin’ you that you got lucky with your car today. whenever you think about getting an uber, don’t. you’re not getting in a car with any other man besides me.”

your heart skips a beat. nope, that was just a palpitation. your heart does not skip for sukuna, you did not consent to it. before you can register it, he flicks your nose with a grin. you rapidly blink, enlisting more cackles out of him. you punch him in the arm before he’s running back to the apartments. “not fucking happening!” you yell after him, head sticking out of your window. you fume all the way home, your music turned up to drown out the pounding in your chest.

when sukuna opens the door, he’s met with a really pissed off yuuji. “you need to leave [name] alone, ryomen.” sukuna knew this was coming given that he witnessed your altercation to a certain degree, but he was definitely overreacting. he’s kicking his shoes off and trudges to the couch, unbothered.

“i’m not doing shit to her, yuu. it’s just teasing.”

sukuna leans to grab the remote off the table when yuuji grabs it instead. “i’m fucking serious. stop fucking around with my friends.”

sukuna looks up at him with a raised brow, jaw flexed. “i said, i’m not doing shit to her.”

yuuji laughs bitterly and shakes his head. “i’m not four anymore, ryo. i can see what you’re doing and you need to quit now.” he jabs a finger on his brother’s chest, which garners him to stand up and face him, his height paralleling yuuji’s. sukuna was just as irritated now. looking down at yuuji, he takes a moment before he speaks so it doesn’t end up in curses.

“you forget you’re speaking to your aniki, brat.” he grits through his teeth, fists balled up on either side of him, shoulders tense.

yuuji’s eyes narrow. “she doesn’t need someone like you fucking her life up, ryomen. i don’t care if we’re brothers, if you toy with her and she ends up hurt, i’m killing you.”

sukuna suddenly gives him a shove to the chest. “and you need to mind your fuckin’ business like i told you to!”

yuuji’s face flashes with mild shock at sukuna getting physical, backing up with a stutter. “so what, you’re gonna fucking hit me now? what is wrong with you lately!” yuuji throws his hands up in the air and paces the room intensely.

sukuna’s stony face falters, his arms relaxing. what was he doing?

“you always do this shit! you talk about respecting women and you can’t seem to fucking treat one right! is it because of mom? how much longer are you going to hold on to that?!”

sukuna begins to bound towards him to give him a real piece of his mind but yuuji throws the remote on the couch towards sukuna, cutting him off and gesturing aggressively. “but you know what? that’s not my shit to figure out. if you want to distract yourself from your baggage, that’s fine by me, but like i said, [name] deserves SO much more than someone like you.” he spat, chest heaving from his tirade. “i’m going to bed. you can see yourself out.” the younger itadori brother’s stomps fade into the apartment as the other is left speechless, thoughts muddy with guilt and a reopened wound.

the next day you had plans to meet with nobara at the university coffee shop, which made you mildly uneasy. with your permission, yuuji had told nobara about the party situation and her reaction was similar to his, and she had approached you at lunch to talk about it. it went rather smoothly so you didn’t feel so horrible about retelling your thoughts– nobara just understood.

what you hadn’t told her was the events of yesterday with sukuna, and those were definitely going to be coaxed out of you over coffee. she had a knack for making you empty your guts with her. it was her evil superpower, you say. your shoes clack on the tile floor of the small joint that resided by your university as you made your way inside, head flitting to search for your redhead. it was a cozy spot, mostly run by employees that were also students at the university. the owners were an old couple that were alumni and had the place built on the courtyard spot they had first met at. the story was widely known by students and carried the spirit of the place, pictures of them and other former students littering the walls. you found it absolutely adorable as a hopeless romantic. you finally spot nobara waving at you by a window table and make your way towards her. “you look cute today, any special occasion?” you shrug, a small smile on your lips. “it’s 10 degrees warmer today, so i decided to celebrate.” “well i’m loving the skirt, don’t be surprised when i borrow it.” you giggle, sticking your tongue at her. “you mean steal, not borrow.” nobara pretends to weigh the two words with her hands. “steal, borrow, it’s all very subjective babe.” you set your bag down on the chair next to yours, a stray piece of hair falling in front of your face in the process. “hey, you.” your head spins to where you heard the deep voice and finds a tall black-haired man. “oh hi, suguru!”

nobara looks at you with a question mark on her face, eyes flicking to him and then you. you give her a little “stop it!” look with your eyes, hoping he didn’t see it. geto was awfully observant and a smooth talker to boot, so you were generally screwed much to your oblivion.

he leans a hand on the back of your chair and tucks the stray hair piece behind your ear. “you look pretty as per usual,” his grin was mind melting. your clothes suddenly felt too warm even though they were the most ventilating pieces you owned. you throw a hand in flattery at him, gushing. “oh stop, you’re too sweet!”

if nobara didn’t have questions before, she certainly did now. from the corner of your eye you could see her gaping at the scene unfolding before her.

you feel embarrassed with the display you had created and changed the subject quickly. “oh, this is nobara, by the way. you probably didn’t see her at the party but she was the one with the green haired girl.” suguru snaps and points at her. “you were the one fucking up the dance floor! i remember,” he sticks a hand out and nobara shakes it firmly, a too-sugary smile plastered on her lips. you could tell she was assessing the guy to his very bones.

“that’s me! and the girl with me was my girlfriend maki.” suguru nods in recollection. “well it’s nice to officially meet you, outside of the frat stuff! it can be a lot sometimes," he glances back at you and frowns apologetically. “which is technically why i came over to talk. i really wanted to say sorry for what went down. the pres, todo, is handling mahito’s consequences so i hope that reassures you,” he looks at you with a face of worry and concern.

“i’m glad not all frats are shitty,” nobara tells him vaguely, code for “thanks for doing your fucking job for once”. he chuckles nervously and nods in thanks. “well, i’ll leave you guys to your coffee now. sorry again,” he pats your head and beams, vanishing out the door with a jingle of the bell overhead. instantly, nobara slammed questions down back to back in hushed screams. “what the fuck was that?! and he tucked your hair? what is this, bridgerton? you didn’t freaking tell me about meeting a GUY at the party, you bitch!” you begged her to quiet down as people started paying attention to the wild hand movements she was doing. nobara, oh my god please! it’s been literally two days!” “yeah, two days of girl code betrayal! i needed to know this shit like yesterday!” she squealed at you and shook your shoulders. you wince at the bombardment and wave an imaginary flag of surrender.

“okay, okay fine! at least let me order my coffee?” she abruptly stops for a moment and notices that you in fact had nothing in front of you. “oh em gee i didn’t even peep that, my bad.” she holds her hands together in a “please forgive me” position. you both immediately burst into giggles. “buy me a cookie?” “you got it.”

you walk up the register and ask for your favorite drink and nobara’s cookie. the girl that took your order was really nice to you for some reason, but you weren’t complaining. she was giggling a lot when she rang you up, which was odd but.. okay.

“your boyfriend is so sweet, by the way. i wish mine tried half as much,”

ohhhh. she must’ve seen you and suguru talking. you let out a small laugh and brush it off. “oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” you say. her brows furrow in confusion. “the pink haired guy with tattoos? he literally told me to give this to his girl in green ribbons!”

you notice there’s a pain au chocolat on the bill that you didn’t put down. pink hair.. there’s really just two choices in that description. you flip around to see if yuuji or sukuna were around, and from the outside of the cafe in the courtyard, you see sukuna leaned on the bricks, smoking. he gives you a small wave, cigarette in hand. you roll your eyes in disgust and ignore him. insistent asshole and a nicotine addict, great.

you turn back to the girl and give her a nervous smile, awkwardly accepting the free pastry. you didn’t tell nobara about the occurrence because you could handle only so much whiplash from shaking in one day. she just took it as another freebie from you and ate it happily.

you rub your temples and sigh. something tells you you’re going to have to be a lot firmer with sukuna going forward.

ahh! this was lowk a pain to format but i hope you loved it :) also, some people wanted to be in a taglist!! here they are:

@kawliflo @deepcloudspyhairdo just so i don't lose track, my taglist will tag you for any of my works! if you choose to opt out, please message/inbox :) also, i will cap it eventually! don't worry about this because i cross-post on ao3, and they also have a subscribe feature that can notify you when i post :)

peace luv bathtub!!!

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