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norrizzandpia · 7 months ago

Note

this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!

Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)

Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol

Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx

If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.

Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”

Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”

When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.

Unknown Number

Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…

Y/n

Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.

The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.

Unknown Number

WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?

Unknown Number

YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN

Unknown Number

If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit

Unknown Number

LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE

Unknown Number

Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder

Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.

Y/n

You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!

His response was immediate.

Unknown Number

Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?

Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.

Y/n

*Image Attached*

Y/n

I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.

The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.

Unknown Number

Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.

Unknown Number

You are very pretty tho

Y/n giggled,

Y/n

Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.

Unknown Number

Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.

Y/n

How do I know this for sure?

Unknown Number

Trust me?

Y/n

Okay, ig. What’s your name?

The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.

“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.

However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.

Unknown Number

Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?

Y/n

I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)

Y/n

Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny

🏎️

The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.

Bob!

Good morning :)

Bob!

Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?

Y/n

Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.

Bob!

GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n

Y/n

Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol

Y/n

I live in London! What about you?

Bob!

Monaco

Y/n

Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?

Bob!

NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho

Y/n

Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.

Bob!

😭

Y/n

No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces

Bob!

Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.

Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.

She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.

Y/n

Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.

Bob!

Ok! text me when you’re free?

Y/n

yesss

—

There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.

Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.

Bob!

Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!

Y/n

sry, i just got home.

Bob!

Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??

Y/n

yeah

Bob!

Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you

Y/n

that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?

Bob!

you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times

Y/n

thats love fr

Y/n

but yeah its been a long day

Bob!

oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?

Y/n

Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.

Bob!

Talk to me about it then <3

Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.

Y/n

it’s ok. Thank you tho bob

Bob!

Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?

Y/n

no one?

Bob!

you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.

Y/n

We barely know each other.

Bob!

Do i look like i care?

She laughs and types,

Y/n

Bob, I don’t even know what you look like

Bob!

We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything

Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.

Y/n

People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?

There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.

Bob!

I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.

There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.

Y/n

Thank you. That means a lot.

Bob!

Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.

Y/n

When were you experiencing it?

Bob!

A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.

Y/n

You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.

Bob!

There’s not much to tell, Y/n.

Y/n

You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?

Bob!

I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.

Y/n

VAGUE

Bob!

Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs

Her eyes twinkle,

Y/n

Haha yeah right brotha

Y/n

That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.

Bob!

Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.

Y/n

You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?

Bob!

If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha

She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.

“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.

She breathes, “Bob?”

There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.

“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”

He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”

“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”

Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.

Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.

“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.

Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”

She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”

The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.

Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.

🏎️

“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.

“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.

Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”

Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”

Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”

“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.

Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”

Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.

“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.

Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”

“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.

Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”

Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”

Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.

“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.

“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.

Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”

He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”

She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.

Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”

Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”

“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.

Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”

Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”

Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”

As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”

Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.

—

Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.

“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.

Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”

Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”

Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”

Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”

“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.

Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.

🏎️

There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.

Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.

“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?

But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.

Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.

A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.

Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.

This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.

Robert Dancing does not exist.

🏎️

Unknown

Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?

Y/n

Everything is fine.

Unknown

Can I call you now?

Y/n

I’m busy.

Unknown

It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?

Unknown

Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?

Y/n

Stop messaging me.

Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.

Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”

She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”

Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”

“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.

“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.

Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”

A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”

A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.

“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.

He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”

She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n, I-”

She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”

A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”

Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.

He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.

What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”

With that, she hangs up the phone.

—

Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.

No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.

“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.

A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”

Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.

“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.

Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”

Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.

Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.

—

It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.

The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.

From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.

Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.

She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.

Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”

The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”

Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”

He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.

Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.

Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.

With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.

🏎️

The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.

She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.

He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”

It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.

When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.

“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”

The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.

The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.

The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.

He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”

Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”

He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.

Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He lifts his head slowly, “What?”

At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”

A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.

He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.

“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.

She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”

Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”

“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.

Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”

She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”

He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”

Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.

At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”

He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”

Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”

He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.

Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”

Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”

🏎️

The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.

Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.

So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.

“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.

A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”

Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.

When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.

Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.

He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.

He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”

He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.

The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.

Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.

She doesn’t know who he is.

He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.

“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.

Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.

“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.

“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.

“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.

Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”

What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.

“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.

She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.

“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.

“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”

Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”

Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”

Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”

Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.

“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.

He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”

Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”

His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”

She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”

Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”

She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.

🏎️

Y/n

Can you stop blowing up my phone

Bob <3

Why????? I’m bored baby

Y/n

im at work girly

Bob <3

girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me

Y/n

I think you might be obsessed with me

Bob <3

i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?

Y/n

girl

She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.

“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.

She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”

“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.

Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”

Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”

Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”

Lando hums, “An hour?”

“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”

Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”

She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”

He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”

“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.

He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”

She’d never get tired of saying it.

2K notes · View notes

hellishjoel · 1 year ago

Text

talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods.

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?)

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there. “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there. He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel

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multifandomimagin3s · 2 years ago

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Pregnancy Reactions - 141, Los Vaqueros + König

Requested by Anon

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Honestly, he's stunned.

Doesn't matter how close you two are, his reaction will be the same; internally, he's panicking but on the outside? He's cold.

Probably would disappear for a while to think.

I don't think he necessarily didn't want kids - more so that he didn't want his child to end up growing up how he did, and so decided that he actively wouldn't pursue having any.

But naturally, life doesn't always work out like that.

He'd absolutely want to be a part of the child's life, he wouldn't up and leave, but it would take him a lot of time and effort to figure out how he was going to voice his concerns to you.

Doesn't like being vulnerable in any way shape or form, and talking about his past is something he avoids at all costs.

Simon wants to be able to be open with you and tell you everything but Ghost wants to shut himself off and keep it to himself.

He'd probably reappear out of the blue after a few days - wouldn't be surprised or annoyed if you were angry at him for disappearing, he expects it.

It would probably be further along in your pregnancy before he would start talking about his past - mainly snippets about how his father raised him, and why he'd been so distant with you.

He'd be the type to just watch you as you sleep - not in a creepy way, you just look so peaceful - and his eyes would trail over your growing bump, knowing that you were carrying his child and he would do anything to keep you safe.

Wouldn't want you going anywhere by yourself, especially when you're closer to your due date; doesn't trust people in general, especially strangers, so if he can't go with you he'd probably ask Johnny or one of the Team to go with you.

Feels the baby kick for the first time and he can't speak. Literally can't get a word out. There's this cocktail of emotions churning in his stomach, and all he can do is keep his hand on your bump, thumbing over the skin where he could feel his child moving.

This guy would probably scare the shit out of the Doctors when you go for your ultrasound appointments - he doesn't even say a word, he's just this hulking figure dressed in black sitting in the chair next to you, gaze burning through everyone else in the room.

He'd probably be deployed when you gave birth - would be as angry as a bear in a cage when he found out, chomping at the bit to get back to you.

The first time he held the baby, all wrapped up in their little blankets, he felt his heart swell.

They were so small in his arms, big eyes peering up at him in wonder at their Dad's face.

So innocent and pure, not yet hurt by the world.

He felt a tug in his stomach as he remembered how he felt when he held his nephew for the first time…

And he made a promise to both you and his little one that he would never let anyone hurt you or take you away from him.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

His first reaction? "Ah shite."

Now don't take that as him being angry or annoyed - he's not, he's just surprised. It's a knee jerk reaction.

Regardless if it was a one-night stand or you've been together for a while, he's going to be equal parts shocked and amazed at the prospect of being a Dad.

He'd thought about the prospect of having a family before but with his job, he just didn't think it was a possibility.

Goes with you to every appointment - if he's deployed, he phones and texts you when he can, asking how you and the "wee one" are doing.

Carries an ultrasound picture in his wallet and is definitely the type of guy who shows the Team every time it comes up in conversation - Ghost acts annoyed but was secretly honoured when Johnny said that he could be "Uncle Ghost."

The Team - well, mainly Soap, Gaz and sometimes Price - would try and decide on a nickname for the little one for when they were born; they decided on 'Suds,' since Soap and Suds sounded cool.

He's not really bothered about what gender the baby will be - a mini version of either of you would be amazing in his eyes, and as long as they're a happy and healthy baby that's all he could ever want.

Absolutely panics when you go into labour - and probably would faint at least once in the delivery room.

If you ended up having a caesarean section, his face would be absolutely priceless - he's no stranger to blood and gore, but the fact that you're awake and talking to him while your insides are being moved around makes him queasy.

Definitely cried when he held the baby for the first time - and wouldn't let them go for a while.

Captain John Price

Now this was something he wasn't expecting at all.

He's an older guy, and considering his role in the military and his lifestyle in general he didn't think he would ever have kids of his own.

Would be protective of you from the get-go, wouldn't let you do any heavy lifting or anything strenuous.

Probably wouldn't tell the Team outright - it would end up randomly coming up in conversation and they all would be so amazed and confused since they had no idea.

Absolutely dotes on you throughout your pregnancy - rubs your feet, gets you any foods or drinks that you're craving, even does that thing where he lifts your bump from behind to give you a reprieve from the weight.

Would love to have a son but would be equally as overjoyed if you had a daughter.

Definitely packs your maternity bag well in advance of your due date - everything is crisply folded and organised, showing his military training.

He's easily the most calm out of everyone when you go into labour - he may have cringed a bit when he saw the epidural needle but you didn't see anything.

I can see him as the Dad who doesn't do babytalk, but he doesn't speak to the baby like an adult either - he just chats away to them while they're bundled up against his chest, little hand wrapped around his thumb.

Yep, they'd absolutely have him wrapped around their finger from day one.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Similarly to Soap, his initial reaction is basically “oh shit.”

He’s still quite young, and he’d never thought that far ahead in his future about settling down and having a family, so he’s gobsmacked.

Gradually warms up to the idea of being a Dad - he’d probably end up going to Price for advice, and his Captain was secretly flattered.

His face lights up and a smile spreads across his face when you guys went for your first scan appointment; seeing the baby, like a little jelly bean on the screen, made things feel so much more real.

Eventually tells the Team - Soap pats him on the back, and may or may have not asked if he can be “Uncle Soap.”

Inwardly melts when he sees the baby shoes - they’re so tiny.

I can see him as the type of guy who buys little shoes that match ones he has - him and the baby would he fashion icons.

Absolutely shits himself when you go into labour - no amount of preparation was helping him in the moment, he almost forgot to lift the maternity bag on the way out the door.

Holds the baby with the upmost care - at first he was a bit awkward because it had been a while since he’d even been around a child, but once you showed him how to hold them properly, he was golden.

Like Price, the baby has him wrapped around their tiny fingers from the jump, and he promises to protect them from anything the world could throw their way.

Alejandro Vargas

He's a passionate man so regardless of whether it was a fling or if you had been together for a long time, he's ecstatic.

Rudy is probably the first person he tells, his friend patting him on the back in congratulations.

Definitely would already start looking at baby names - he'd have a list.

Very protective, doesn’t like you going anywhere on your own and only trusts certain people to be around you, especially when you’re in your third trimester.

Rudy is number one in his list of trusted people, alongside 141; it’s so strange seeing these hulking, intimidating men become so soft and caring around you.

I reckon he’d hope for a baby girl - he’s love his child endlessly regardless of their gender but something about being a girl Dad just fits him so well.

If the baby did end up being a girl though, he’s going to be her personal bodyguard - doesn’t matter if she’s 13 or 30, nobody will be messing with his daughter.

If the baby ended up being a boy, he’d be equally as happy - having a mini version of himself around the house would be adorable.

You’d have to try and tell him to stop buying baby clothes - every time he’d go to the store to get you whatever foods you were craving, he’d come back with a million different outfits and little shoes, and honestly you guys were running out of space to put it all.

Carries the ultrasound pictures with him but only shows those who he can trust - so, mainly Rudy and some of the other members of Los Vaqueros.

Can’t stop smiling when he sees the baby for the first time, it’s surprising that his cheeks aren’t sore.

Tries not to be the overbearing Dad but watches others like a hawk when they’re holding the baby.

He’s honestly just so delighted to be a Dad.

Rudy Parra

He’s a quiet guy, so his reaction is a lot more contained in comparison to his comrade, Alejandro.

Asks if you’re sure, a small smile on his lips.

He’s excited at the prospect of being a Dad but is also worried that you or the baby would be in danger considering his line of work.

Tells Alejandro - his comrade is bursting with excitement, congratulating his friend.

You’d have the whole of Los Vaqueros and 141 ready to protect you, quelling Rudy’s fears a bit.

Doesn’t like you doing any heavy lifting and always either offers to do it for you or, as if he read your mind, goes ahead and does it for you.

Would probably try some of your pregnancy craving foods - some of them he liked, others, well he tried not to judge you too hard for your choices.

His arm is always wrapped around your waist, hand wresting on your bump, especially when you’re out somewhere; it makes him feel less anxious knowing your beside him, so he knows you’re safe.

Doesn’t really mind what gender the baby would be, hasn’t really given it much thought.

If he was deployed when you gave birth, he’d be fighting tooth and nail to get back to you.

Doesn’t let the baby go when he does - would lay next to you in bed on his back with the baby on his chest.

Does that a lot actually - you’d walk into the living room and he’d be out cold, baby sleeping away on his chest, bundled in their little blankets.

Honestly would be the best Dad

König

Similarly to Ghost, he's petrified.

He's thought about settling down one day, living the white picket fence life, having a few kids - but he rationally knew that it probably wouldn't happen like that.

As soon as you tell him that you're pregnant, he has to sit down otherwise he'd probably faint.

He's terrified of hurting you or the baby with his strength, so he'd probably close himself off for a bit to think.

Cries when he sees the scan pictures of the baby for the first time - his child.

I reckon he's still very close to his family, namely his Mother, back home and so he'd be trying to figure out the best way to tell her that she's going to be a Grandmother.

His heart melts when he sees the little baby outfits you'd picked out - the little soft-soled shoes look even smaller in the palm of his hand.

He was already protective of you before but the bigger your bump gets, the more he's practically glued to your hip.

Always worries about you when he gets deployed - he's even more vicious and calculative on the field now that he knows that he has to make it home to you and the baby.

When you go into labour, he almost has a panic attack.

He's practically running around the house trying to find the maternity bag -- it was under the bed.

Holds your hand the entire time, doesn't complain at all when you practically crush his hand during contractions.

He's almost scared to hold the baby once they're born; the Nurse hands them over to him, swaddled in their little blankets, and he handles them like they're made of glass.

Starts sobbing when he notices that they have his eyes.

His heart is so full.

#simon riley #soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #konig #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #konig x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rudy parra x reader #call of duty #cod #multifandomimagin3s

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iluvmattsbeard · 7 months ago

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what have you done to me? (c.s)

master list

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: swearing

preview: you and Chris have been friends for a long time. everyone has teased how good of a couple you'd be. but Chris has always shot down the rumors. you never looked at him that way. but Chris on the other hand? he's been acting off.

a/n: I love mamma mia and obviously I love chris, so I have decided to write this inspired by one of the scenes from the movie. but with my twist of course. hope you enjoy!

you wake up with the light hitting your face from it peeking through the curtains. you rubbed your eyes as you grabbed your phone. to see a text from Nick.

nick

y/n wake up! you have to help us prepare for today!

you lay your head back smiling as you reply. today the triplets have planned a trip to the beach. inviting a bunch of people from school. it wasn't really your thing but Nick, Matt, and mostly Chris convinced you on going.

y/n

i'm sorry for waking up so late. I was up all night tossing and turning. i'll be there as soon as I finish getting ready!

you get out of bed as you walked over to your bathroom. you do your morning routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, and you ended up shaving your legs. you don't remember the last time you've been to the beach. to be completely honest, you didn't even know how to swim.

you go to your closet as you scrummage through your drawers trying to find a swim suit. after a minute of searching, you find a flattering blue two piece where the top is strapless. you put it on as you stare at yourself in the mirror. it complimented your body very well. you smile a bit before putting on ripped shorts and a crocheted cover up top. you packed your tote bag with extra clothes. just in case you actually go in the water.

you pick up your phone wondering why Chris hasn't texted. he usually is the one texting and blowing up your phone. but he didn't today. "that's odd." you whisper to yourself.

Chris' POV

today I woke up with a thought in my head. which i've been having these past days. me and y/n have been friends for years. she practically looked at me and my brothers as her own siblings. but I couldn't push the thought out of my head. I could hear my heart pounding when I thought about it.

i put a pillow over my face as I laid there and sighed. Chris you're being delusional i said in my head. I took the pillow off my face and reached for my phone. I clicked on her contact, going to text her, but, I stop myself. I shake my head as I put my phone back down. I need to stop with the thoughts. she's my best friend. nothing more. despite what everybody says.

"Christopher! have you texted y/n? it's already 10 a.m!" nick yells out at me. "no I have not." I said stepping out my room. he looks at me while shaking his head, "why not? she has to help us out." he says grabbing his phone, "I have to do everything myself like always!" he continues on. Matt lets out a laugh as I roll my eyes walking to the bathroom.

End of Chris' POV

you grab your keys as you head out the door. you get into your car and buckle up pulling out your phone to connect your music. the triplets lived 10 minutes away so you texted the group chat saying you were on your way. you drive as you hum to the music playing.

Chris' POV

"she's on the way!" nick yells out practically jumping. "at least I'd finally get some help." he continues as Matt and I roll our eyes.

as time passes by, we hear the door bell ring. shit. it's her. Nick runs to the door and opens it with a big smile. "finally!" he screeches out. they both hug as I lock eyes with her. they pull away from each other and she walks up to me hugging me. "why haven't I heard from you?" she says curious. "I didn't have time to text. I was busy getting ready." I lie with a small smile. "Chris your hair is still a mess and you're in your pajamas. i'm pretty sure you're not ready." she says laughing.

i roll my eyes before replying, "whatever. you don't need to know everything." she smiles going to hug Matt. "so... what is the plan for right now?" she says grabbing a water from the fridge. "well we have to head to the store and buy a few things. I told everyone to bring whatever they want." Nick says. "then what are we doing standing around?" she says with a smile, "lets go!" she shouts happily. "wait! I'm not ready." I say. "then go Christopher!" Nick shouts at me. Matt and y/n laugh at Nick's words. I ran to my room and got ready.

End of Chris' POV

as you guys waited for Chris to finish up, you sat on their counter thinking. why did he lie? a very obvious lie. he's acting so strange. he couldn't even keep eye contact with you. you shrugged it off. it bothered you because he was your best friend and you wanted him to tell you everything. Chris finally finishes getting ready and you guys put your shoes on heading out the door.

you all take the mini van with Matt driving, Nick in the passenger seat, and you in the backseat with Chris. you all buckle up as you hear Nick speak, "here we go!" you giggle at his enthusiasm. as Matt starts driving, you glance at Chris trying to read his face. he was too busy on his phone. he looked normal even though his actions said other wise.

you guys finally arrived at the store. you guys get out of the car, walking inside. you see Nick gasp right away. "fruit platter!" he exclaims. showing you guys, holding it like a prize. you laugh as Chris joins. "nobody wants a fruit platter Nick. come on, head towards the chips aisle." Matt says, walking past Nick grabbing him by the shirt lightly. Nick pouts jokingly. you hold in a laugh. you all follow along. you guys grabbed a few bags of chips and grabbed some candy, along with some cans of soda. Pepsi, Dr pepper, and Sprite.

Nick ended up paying for everything. “thank you for helping me carry these bags y/n. since these two couldn’t do it” Nick says in a sarcastic tone. “didn’t seem like you needed help.” Chris says as you giggle at the response. “yeah no problem Nick.” you say with a smile, putting the bags in the back seat, in between you and Chris. after the store, you guys finally start heading to the beach. it was already close to 1 p.m.

y/n's POV

the car ride wasn't mostly quiet. the only thing quiet was between me and Chris. usually, he's the one talking the most, being the loudest. but he was so glued to his screen not even looking at me. it's starting to worry me. I decided to tap him, but by the time he looks at me, the car stops and Matt says, "we're here!" I turned to look out the window, "oh wow. looks like we're late to our own party." I say looking at the group of people messing around. there was people dancing to music, people in the ocean, and a group of people just sitting around talking. i went to turn back to Chris but he already was in the middle of getting out the car. i sighed as i got out myself. Matt and Chris carried all the bags because they were told to by Nick since they didn’t help at the store. we all walk up to a free spot. i unfold the blanket from my tote bag and lay it out. Matt and Chris lay down the bags on top of it. “i’m going to go greet people!” Nick says with a big smile as he walks off with Matt. Chris looks at me, “you okay staying here?” he says. i nod with him nodding back walking away to a group. I stand there looking around as I see one of my friends come up to me. Grayson. he was tall and muscular. i'm not going to lie, I find him quite attractive but, it wasn't anything more. "hello y/n" he says flashing a smile at me. “hello grayson” i reply with a smile. we decided to talk while he passes me a drink. “what is this?” i ask swirling the cup looking into it. “beer” he responds. but before he answers i was in the middle of taking a sip. i swallowed making a bitter face. he takes the cup away from me, “okay not your thing i see.” he says letting out a chuckle.

we both laugh together as he asks me if i want to walk around. i nod and we stand side by side just chatting. “i never see you at these type of things.” he says. “well because it’s not my type of scene. i’m only here because of the triplets.” i respond with a smile. he smiles nodding, “oh yeah. you guys are pretty close.” “yup” i say.

Chris' POV

as I was talking to a group buddies from my lacrosse team, I couldn't help but catch something with my eyes. there she was. y/n talking to Grayson. usually it didn't bother me but with the thoughts i've been having? I couldn't help but feel something. I wasn't the jealous type or the possessive type. so this was new.

i continue to take glances at them talking. glances until in a second my eyes stayed on them longer as I see y/n take off her cover up and her shorts. I tense up poking my tongue to the inside of the side of my mouth. I couldn't even look at her because I was too busy looking at Grayson look at her up and down. it infuriated me. something inside of me almost walked over there but my thoughts were interrupted by one of my team mates, "you staring won't stop them from talking Chris." he says. I roll my eyes as I just continue to sip my drink as the rest of the team laughs.

Y/n's POV

"let's get in the ocean?" Grayson says while holding his hand out. I looked at his hand and then at the ocean. “uh i don’t know. i wasn’t really planning on it.” i say trying to make an excuse. I don't know how to swim. but I didn’t want to blurt that out there. I looked at Grayson and he responds, “come on. it’s better than standing around. plus you have a bathing suit on. clearly you were going to go in.” I grabbed his hand, “okay fine but only my feet.” i say with a smile. he smiles back as he drags me closer to the water.

Chris's POV

i put my drink down as I see y/n and Grayson walk towards the water. holding hands. was she trying to drive me insane? she probably doesn’t even know what she’s doing. i mean i have been trying to avoid her today. which was stupid of me because maybe if i just talked to her she would be holding my hand. not his. it was getting harder to keep my composure. why am i being like this?

End of Chris' POV

as you and Grayson make it to the water, you let out a small yelp when your feet submerges. it was freezing. Grayson lets out a small laugh when he sees your face. as you both stand there you spoke up, "it's really cold" you let out a nervous laugh. “there’s only one way to get rid of the cold.” he says. “which is what?” you respond curiously. “by getting all the way in with no thought!” he says. next thing you know, Grayson carries you by the waist and runs with you more towards the water. you let out a playful scream. which catches Chris' attention. you hit Grayson's arms softly asking him to let you down laughing. Chris had enough. Chris walks towards the both of you and shouts, "put her down!" you and Grayson whip your head around towards Chris standing there clearly bothered. "Chris?" you say as Grayson puts you down, "what's your problem?" you continue.

"does he know you can't swim?" he says. “well no he doesn’t.” you respond with a nervous laugh. “well i don’t want to be the one having to save you so…” holding his hand out, "come on." he says seriously. Grayson steps forward a bit, "dude she's just trying to have fun." he says but Chris ignores him waiting for you to grab his hand, "lets go y/n." Chris says. but before you say anything, Chris just grabs your arm pulling you away from the muscular boy walking the both of you away from everyone.

"Chris!" you yelp as you try to get out from his grip. "let go of me!" he listens and lets you go. he's avoiding eye contact. "what is your problem?!" you say in a frustrated tone. "you barely talk to me all morning and now you want to get in between me having fun?"

"fun?" he says with a scoff, "wouldn't have been fun if I were to run into the ocean saving you if his dumb ass continued to push you more in the deep end." you scoff, "that would've been my choice! i wouldn’t need your help." you say.

Chris' POV

she can't be serious. she's mad at me for just trying to be a good friend? even though my reason for dragging her away from the situation was just because it was making me angry staring at them. because it should’ve been me and her laughing and having fun.

"answer me Chris" she says, snapping me back into the moment. "look, the truth is I couldn't stand it. I couldn't take it anymore." I stepped closer to her, "I don't know what's happening.. but you did something to me. I don't fall easily and you know this. when you're not near, I get this sudden urge of yearn. when I saw you with him? I couldn't keep watching you waste your emotions on some stupid idiot who clearly doesn't know you. this is all new to me and i’m confused. confused why all of the sudden i feel like this. but it’s you! you are making me like this. so me seeing you with him? was enough for me.” I practically shout. my heart was beating fast. anticipating for her response. she looks away and lets out a small sigh but I decided to hold her cheek making her look into my eyes. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i was just trying to figure this all out.” i say.

"Chris..." she whispers putting her hand on my cheek as well. before she had the chance to say anything else, I pulled her in and kissed her softly but passionately. she wraps her arms around my neck kissing back. I pull away as I rub her cheek softly, “so what are you trying to say exactly Chris?” she says with a smile. all i could do was let out a nervous laugh and respond, “what i’m trying to say is… you’re my best friend and i love you. i love you more than just a best friend.” and next thing you know she jumps on me wrapping her legs and arms around me hugging me. she giggles, "i love you too Chris." she exclaims happily. I smile pulling her back in for another kiss. this is the happiest i've been. all the worries and fears left my body as soon as she laid all her love on me.

our kiss was interrupted by a familiar voice, "finally!" we pull away to see Nick shout. me and y/n looked at each other laughing as I kiss her again. feelings butterflies in my stomach. oh what have you done to me y/n?

a/n: if you get to the end where you can read this, thank you for taking the time to read! likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! leave a follow if you like my content! I will continue to upload more imagines and post random shit about the triplets. I can't wait to write more like this. make sure to check my master list. I will try to upload as much as I can!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #imagine #x reader #mamma mia #fluff #christopher sturniolo fluff #Spotify

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miabebe · 3 months ago

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Reverse Trope Series - Accidently Kidnpping A Mafia Boss (Teaser 2)

Kidnapping the Yoon Jeonghan was not on your 2024 bingo but sometimes, shit happens right?

Read part 1 here first!

Pairing - Yoon Jeonghan x afab!reader

Word Count - Teaser 2 is 3.9K (Estimated fic word count - 25K)

Genre - Strangers to something more than that I guess? Crack, angst (just a small splash) and smut. (Loads of it, but in the full fic)

Warnings - mentions of kidnapping and mafia. (But just to be clear, this is not like your usual mafia fics - it’s not dark, there’s no violence and things of that sort)

A/n - This fic was supposed to be out so long ago but I've been really really busy and also this plot underwent like 2039805938 changes so I've also been a bit inefficient T.T Here's another teaser to make up for it before I drop the whole fic - I've tagged the people on the taglist so far, if I've missed you I'm sorry, please remind me and if you want to be newly added, also lmk!

“They aren't picking up.” You sighed, pacing around the room. “Why aren't they picking up??”

All three boys who were perched on the breakfast bar shrugged, continuing to munch on their chocolate bars.

“You guys are awfully calm considering the mess we’ve landed in.”

“The mess you landed us in.” Soonyoung, who had been filled about the situation, pointed out, licking his fingers. “If you hadn’t tried to pull that terrible prank on me-”

“Okay Kwon, I don’t need this right now.” You rolled your eyes as Soonyoung made a mocking face before returning to his snack. Sighing, you dialed the number again, hoping for a response at least this time.

“Voicemail. Again!” You squeezed your phone, nearly throwing it across the room, half screaming in frustration. The boys hissed, signaling you to shut up as you bit your tongue and turned towards the elephant in the room.

Well, not a literal elephant, he was barely one sixteenth its size, the figurative elephant - Yoon Jeonghan.

He still sat, unconscious and beautiful as ever, only his hands were now tied behind the chair, securing him in place. Seokmin insisted it was necessary considering this would be his second time attempting to try and escape. When you had expressed your confusion, Seungkwan pulled out his phone and showed you a picture he had clicked in the city a few days ago - a poster with Jeonghan’s face on it, a text on the bottom.

Dangerous criminal Yoon Jeonghan escaped from prison on the 8th of August. Please be cautious and if seen, call the number below. A reward of 20,000 dollars is offered for any and all incriminating information.

The moment all of you finished reading, it was like a switch flipped.

Soonyoung immediately secured Jeonghan's hands, Seokmin darkened the room, turning off all the lights and Seungkwan shut all the curtains, shoving his phone into your hands. You though, just stood frozen, watching all of them getting to work, unable to comprehend the situation. It was only when Seungkwan shook you physically telling you to call that number that you finally came to your senses, quickly dialing it.

Since then, it had been over an hour and you had called almost 48 times unsuccessfully, much to your frustration but not so much to the boys. They simply continued to raid your snack drawer, chattering away in hushed whispers while you wanted to pull all your hair out.

“Why do you look so distressed hon?” Soonyoung looked at you, worried.

“Why?” You raised your eyebrows. “Why?? Can you not see why? Do you not understand how risky it is keeping him here-” You shot the unconscious man a glance, whispering. “What if he wakes up?”

“Then you knock him out again.” Seungkwan chuckled.

“This is not a joke you guys.” You tried to be heard above all the reenacting and laughing. “I get that the 20k offer looks enticing but should we take a risk this big-”

“You think this is about the money?” Seokmin looked at you almost offended. “He’s a criminal Y/n, handing him over to the cops is doing what’s right! That’s our duty as responsible citizens-”

“Well this can’t be the only way to go about it? I’m sure there are other ways-”

“Like what?” Seungkwan frowned curiously.

“I don’t know.” You bit your lower lip, turning to Jeonghan, hands shaking nervously. “We could go out there and find a cop-”

“When was the last time you even saw a cop in this vicinity?” Soonyoung raised an amused eyebrow.

“Fine, then we’ll take him to the nearest police station?”

“That’s almost twenty five miles from here.” Soonyoung pointed out. “What if on the way he becomes un-unconscious-”

“Conscious.”

“-then wouldn’t we be in more danger?”

Sighing, you buried your face in your hands, shaking your head. “How did we get ourselves stuck in a situation this terrible-”

“Oh come on, it's not so bad.” Seungkwan clicked his tongue. “It's not like we're committing a crime, in fact we are doing the complete opposite of it - you should be proud of us.”

“I prefer my sanity over pride please, thank you.”

Soonyoung clapped his hand. “So let's get you your vanity back-”

“Sanity.”

“-the more we try to call that number, the sooner we manage to contact the authorities and before you know it, he'll be gone and all of this will be over.”

Sighing, you handed the phone to him, gesturing that he try now, sick of hearing the voicemail message over and over again. No sooner after he reached for it, a loud ringtone echoed in the room making you nearly jump out of your skin because a. it was really loud and b. it was not coming from this phone…..

All four of you exchanged looks, slowly turning to the source of the sound - the pocket on the inside of Jeonghan’s jacket.

Noticing how Jeonghan was starting to stir, Seungkwan quickly moved closer to him and pulled out the phone, fingers moving swiftly to mute it. As it continued to vibrate in his hand, the rest of you gathered around, looking at the screen over his shoulder - Assistant 1, annoying, do not pick up. But before any of you had to make the executive decision whether or not to lift the phone, thank god for the timing, the call ended, allowing you all to take a sigh of relief.

Trying to catch your breath again, just as you almost moved back to your original position, it rang again, somehow even more loudly this time and like an idiot in his hurry, Seungkwan accidentally lifted the call, making you gasp and almost scream.

“No, don’t-”

“Boss.” Though it was barely audible, he sounded exasperated. “Please tell me you’re not with a girl.”

As Seungkwan put the call on speaker, the boys looked at you, signaling you to talk. Looking lost, you stuttered. “I uh…yes, he’s with me.”

“Of course he is.” His voice boomed in the room. “I need to talk to him.”

You hesitated, looking at Jeonghan still sitting slumped. “I’m afraid he can’t come to the phone right now.”

“And why not?”

“Cause he’s tied up?” You shook your head fast, when your friends looked at you wide eyed - now was not the time for truths??? “I mean he’s tied up with some work-”

“Oh please, there’s no need to cover up.” The man sounded amused. “I always had a feeling that this was one of his kinks.”

You looked at the screen mortified. Did he just say kinks? “I’m sorry, what?”

“No, I’m sorry you’re stuck with that sadist of a man. If you’re free after you’re done with him, I assure you, I could show you a much better time.”

Gasping inaudibly, you felt the heat in your cheeks rising. “I’m not a…. no, god no. He’s tied up as in, unconscious and tied up. Kidnapped, unconscious and tied up.”

The boys’ jaws dropped in disbelief. What the hell were you blabbering?

“Did you just say you kidnapped him?”

Hands shivering, you tried to shove the phone into someone else's hands, only for all of them to quite literally run away.

“Woman, I’m asking you something. Did you just say you kidnapped Jeonghan? The Yoon Jeonghan?” He paused, as you moved, standing in front of the man in question, watching him carefully. “Do you even know who he is?”

“I….yes.” You sighed, sweat rolling down your forehead. “Yes I know who he is and look, it's a long story, I can’t explain right now and I’m sorry you had to find out this way but I’m calling the cops and handing him over tonight.”

“You called me to tell me that you were handing him to the cops?”

“Actually you called-”

“And for what? That measly twenty thousand?” He scoffed. “I know what you’re doing here - I’ll give you thirty in exchange for him.”

And suddenly, all the boys were around the phone again.

“No thank you.” You shook your head. “This isn’t about the money, it’s about doing the right thing and that is to hand him over-”

“Wow, you’re really playing that card?” He sighed. “Fine, I’ll give you fifty.”

At this point, Seungkwan lunged for his phone, narrowly missing it as you swiftly moved your hand away, surprised.

“Seventy five?”

Seokmin tried to reach for it too, but you were too quick for him too, moving away, looking at them incredulously. What the hell were they doing?

“Final offer, a hundred thousand or I have other ways-”

“Done.” Soonyoung, the nimblest of them all, quickly grabbed the phone from your hands talking into it. “Hundred thousand and he’s yours.”

“Kwon-”

Seokmin covered your mouth, holding you back. “We want it in cash.”

“That might be an issue-” The man on the phone let out a tired breath. “-things are tight now, cash will be hard.”

“It’s cash or he goes to the cops.” Seokmin continued, still holding you back with his strong arms, rendering your struggles pointless.

The line went quiet on the other side. The boys look at each other, worried.

“Fine.” He finally agreed as they sighed in relief. “But I’ll need about ten days to arrange for it.”

“We are in no hurry.” Seungkwan added. “Whenever you send the cash, we’ll send him.”

“And till then?”

“Till then, he’ll be here, with us.” Soonyoung confirmed, earning a protest from you that drowned out.

“I hope you remember that the cops are actively looking for him-”

“We do. Which is why you need to make sure the money reaches us by the tenth day.” Seungkwan pointed out. “Otherwise you know where he’s going.”

“No don’t….” The man sighed. “There’s no need to make such hasty decisions, you’ll get your money.”

“Good, keep in touch on this number and let us know when you have the cash ready and….that's all for now, okay bye.”

Seungkwan spoke quickly before he cut the call and all the boys looked at each other amazed. When Seokmin finally released you, he shrieked, given you landed a few harmless punches on him, hard and fast.

“Are you insane???” You looked around. “Are all of you insane?”

“Hon,” Soonyoung held you by the shoulders, shaking them. “It’s a hundred thousand dollars-”

“I thought it was not about the money.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you wanted to be a responsible citizen-”

“Oh please it’s always about the money.” Seokmin walked over and fell back onto the couch. “A hundred thousand dollars, wow, I’ve never even heard of so much money in my life.”

“Can’t believe I’m going to be a millionaire.” Soonyoung joined him on, earning an eye roll from you.

“How exactly?” You crossed your arms. “It’s twenty five thousand dollars a person.”

“So you are agreeing to be a part of it!” Seungkwan clapped happily, ignoring your words of protest. “We’re all going to be so rich.”

“Twenty five thousand dollars isn’t exactly a fortune-”

“It might not be for you, but not all of us have dropped out of college and are running our own freelance business from the comfort of our grandmother’s apartment.” Seokmin pointed out. “We could really use the money.”

“That’s fair but-”

“No ‘buts’ now.” Seungkwan raised his hand to stop you. “Come on Y/n, do this for us? All we ask is for ten days. Don’t you remember when you moved to this locality, we were the only ones there for you? For 2 whole years we’ve been with you through thick and thin-”

Thud.

Seungkwan stuttered to a stop, turning around at the sound. Seokmin and Soonyoung shifted around too, trying to see what happened, heartbeat rapidly rising with the realisation that Jeonghan was stirring awake..... and more importantly, the knot that “believe me I'm an expert” Soonyoung had tied around his hands had come undone, the rope falling to the floor.

Wincing, Jeonghan opened his eyes slowly as all of you froze, watching the infamous mafia boss raise his head, blinking in the darkness.

You panicked, noticing that your one and only weapon here, your trusty torchlight, was far from you and right by his foot. Wondering if it was dark enough, considering the room was only lit by the soft and minimal glow of the streetlights pouring in, you slowly inched towards Jeonghan who seemed like he still hadn't full come around. Just as you reached him, bending to pick up the torch, Seungkwan, who was inching back to press himself against the wall and somehow blend into it, pressed against the switches, the lights instantly turning on, illuminating the whole room.

Jeonghan slowly looked up, eyes meeting yours, lips parting softly.

You opened your mouth to scream or say something, you can’t remember what exactly, instead resorting to just staring at the way his hair beautifully framed his face, long eyelashes touching the curve of his cheeks as he blinked. As you continued to remain frozen, his eyes ran over the features of your face, before his lips curled into a small smile.

“I love you.”

You snapped out of your trance in a second, jaw dropping.

“God I really love you.” He repeated, as you grabbed the torch and hurriedly moved back. Seokmin, clearly your most sensible friend, quickly got up, putting himself between you and Jeonghan.

“What did he say?” Seokmin looked at you over his shoulder, mumbling.

“You’re….” Seungkwan took a small, careful step. “You’re not mad?”

“My head does hurt like a bitch.” Jeonghan cocked his head at you who was half hiding behind your biggest friend. “But I would have been more mad if I was in jail compared to waking up in….” He looked around again. “.....whatever this is.”

“My house.” You muttered, gripping the torch as Soonyoung silently walked behind Jeonghan and kicked the rope under the sofa before he joined you, looking casual as ever.

“Yes, jail would be bad.” He agreed. “But here, you’re totally safe, no stress at all.”

“And why exactly?” Jeonghan frowned, eyes flickering over all of you. “Obviously you know who I am. Why aren’t you handing me to the cops?”

“That's um…because….” Seungkwan mumbled, putting his arm around your shoulder, with a firm nod. “Because of her uncle.”

You blinked at him.

You had no uncle.

“M-mine?”

“Yes, her uncle was….unfairly arrested by the cops last year. T-they sort of put him away for good so uh….helping you is, in a way.... our revenge against this foul legal system.”

Jeonghan didn’t look even a little convinced.

Maybe just a little when he looked at you with an eyebrow raised in question and you hesitatingly nodded.

“Okay, y’all are clearly a weird bunch but I'm not going to question it since whatever this is is kinda helping me out.” He got up, wincing as he held his head. “and so now I'll get going-”

“No!” All three boys screamed, taking both Jeonghan and you aback, ears almost ringing.

“We mean…” Seungkwan started at a much softer tone. “You can’t go out right now, it’s not safe for you.”

“I am aware,” Jeonghan patted his pockets as though he was searching for something. “I need to call my men and find them in the city. Once they arrange a way for me to permanently leave the country, I'll finally be safe-”

“You are safe here too.” Soonyoung quipped. “In fact, there’s no better place than this neighbourhood to be safe - it’s quiet, almost thirty miles from the city, filled with senior citizens who are absolutely cut off from the world - I'm sure they don’t even know who you are, she herself didn't.” He pointed at you.

“Most importantly,” Seokmin added. “Because this place is so dull, cops don’t even come here, hell, the closest police station is over twenty five miles away.”

“Huh” Jeonghan looked thoughtful, continuing to slide his hands into all his pockets one by one, mumbling. “Where's my phone-”

“It probably fell when you were running around-.” Seungkwan gripped the bulge in his back pocket where Jeonghan’s phone was tucked away. “-now that you can't contact your…gang? it'll be dangerous for you to go unguided.”

“Exactly.” Soonyoung stepped up. “Say you give it some time? Maybe 10 ten days or so, just so the things in the city to cool off a little and then you can go, find your people and leave the country?”

Jeonghan stared at the floor as though he was mulling over it, each passing second feeling like almost an hour.

Finally he looked up, slowly nodding, much to everyone's relief. “I guess I could?” He held the bump on his head again, wincing in pain. “First I'm gonna need a shower and a meal.” He looked at you, lips curling into a small smile. “Is knocking people out your only talent or can you whip up a ramyeon too?”

Tearing your eyes away from his intense gaze you mumbled that you could, earning a two finger salute from him before he disappeared behind the door of the bathroom.

As all of four of you collectively let out a sigh of relief, Seungkwan shoved Jeonghan’s phone into your hands.

“Keep this safe and keep him safe.” He looked around at everyone. “We need to continue making him feel as though living here for 10 days is good for him, not us.”

“Agreed.” Seokmin hummed. “He cannot, at any cost, know he’s being held for ransom. God knows what he might do then.”

“I still can’t believe it though.” Soonyoung let out a low whistle, looking around almost proud. “I can’t believe we accidentally kidnapped a mafia boss.”

“Smells fucking good.”

You bit back a gasp hearing Jeonghan’s voice from behind you, right at the shell of your ear as you stood by the stove, stirring his meal. Gulping you turned, regretting it immediately when you found yourself inches away from him yet again but this time, he was standing in just his towel, blonde wet hair falling into his eyes, rivets of water running down his smooth abdomen. As your eyes found their way back up again, Jeonghan smirked at you.

“Strange.” He cocked his head at you. “On one hand you seem so meek and quiet, yet no one has ever really looked at me the way you do.”

Please don’t say things like that.

Feeling unnaturally hot, perhaps because you were sandwiched between a boiling pot of noodles and a man this attractive, you turned away, turning off the gas, wiping the sweat running down your neck.

Jeonghan chuckled. “I need something to wear. You got anything to spare?”

You nodded, setting the pot down, before moving away from him (thank god) and walking into your office room. Jeonghan followed at a distance, shaking off the water in his hair, looking around confused as he stepped in.

“Aren’t you a bit too old to play dress up?” He pointed at the mannequin in the corner donning a pretty maroon half finished dress.

“That’s…. My work.” You confessed, going through a stack of clothes in the drawers on the far end.

“You made that?”

You nodded softly. “Yeah I’m a..... freelance fashion designer.”

“For who, the dead?” He frowned. “Who even wears clothes like these anymore?”

Trying not to get too offended, you pulled out the pair of pajamas you were looking for and turned to him. “It’s for the main lead of the new Macbeth play. I, uh, custom make clothes for theater productions and stage plays.”

“Ah.” He nodded looking around at the large table filled with pencil and measuring tapes and scissors and big shelves stacked with materials of all knds, two sewing machines lined up against the wall. “Interesting.”

You're not really sure what he found so fascinating but you cleared your throat, trying to change the topic.

“I only have this that might fit you.” Walking over, you handed him a neatly folded purple checkered pajama set. “I made it for my…. for someone a few years back but he didn’t like the colour so it's brand new.”

“I love purple.” Jeonghan grinned, taking it from you, immediately slipping on the shirt. “Those boys are stupid to not like this.”

"It wasn't for them." You scoffed. "I've actually never made them clothes. My style is a little too old fashioned for them?”

“You continue to surprise me.” He looked at you thoughtfully. “Old fashioned in dressing but open minded enough to live with three men.”

You blinked stupidly. “I don't live with three men.”

“Oh they don’t live here?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “You four aren't a thing?”

“Four? As in all four of us??.….” You looked at him wide eyed and scandalized. “Of course not! How could you even think that, w-what does that even mean-”

“Okay relax princess.” Jeonghan took a step back, raising his hands. “Even if you were, it’s cool. I don’t judge.”

Definitely not relaxing, you looked everywhere but at him, heat continuing to rise uncomfortably in your body.

Jeonghan looked at you amused, biting his lip. “But I will judge if you continue to stand here and watch me wear my pants.”

Shaking your head and apologising, you practically ran out, heart racing in your chest as you leaned against the kitchen counter, hands gripping the edge. The kind of things he said, the way he looked at you….Please please please stop it.

Trying your best to push him out of your mind, you got back to the stove, grabbing the pot and placing it on the table. You stared at it for a bit before sighing and pulling out a few of your mom’s sides from the fridge, adding it to his meal. As you poured out a glass of juice, Jeonghan walked up, rubbing his hands, pulling the chair and sitting down.

“You got sides and all? Sweet.”

He grabbed the pair of chopsticks and took a large bite, humming in relief. You knew it was burning hot, but he was probably way too hungry to care because the speed made it look like he was inhaling it.

“Sit.” He looked up mid bite. “I don’t like eating alone.”

Although you didn't wish to be in his presence for long, you sat down, unable to say no. The entire time, Jeonghan ate quietly, tasting everything, drinking the juice in between, loudly smacking his lips after every bite. After devouring it all in less than five minutes, he raised the bowl to his mouth, downing all the soup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That was so delicious princess, I almost wanna stay here all my life.” He got up, stretching as he did. “But unfortunately 10 days is all we have.”

Silently, you half nodded, gathering all the dishes he had left on the table, taking them to the sink. Jeonghan watched you, please stop looking at me, and when you returned to wipe the table, he leaned in, for the third time tonight, putting his face incredibly close to yours.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, but I think I’ll have you all figured out in ten days.” As you tried to move further back, unable to breathe in the proximity, he moved closer, smirking. “Goodnight princess.”

And with that he walked off, turning into your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

You simply stared, rapidly blinking, heart refusing to calm down, chest heaving as you struggled to breathe.

And this was just day zero of ten.

#svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan angst #jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fic #jeonghan oneshot #seventeen fic #seventeen series #seventeen imagines #accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss #reverse trope

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hwaslayer · 1 month ago

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wildfire (cs) | four.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 5.4k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, oc is getting whiplash from prof. choi's lab culture lmao, very vague/general descriptions of mice research work, prof. choi to the rescue fr, lots and LOTS of tension, yes i promise the ending counts as foreshadowing because shit will hit the roof in 5!!

A couple of days later, you and Sunwoo are finally putting the newly built behavior rig to use. A couple of days later, you find yourself becoming way too distracted by Professor Choi.

A couple of days later, Sunwoo is asking you to text your professor about some mice issues?

"Can you do me a favor?" Sunwoo pouts. "Pretty please?"

"What?" You tease and cross your arms.

"Can you take a picture and text it to Professor Choi? Ask him if it's okay to move forward with the vet's recommendations for the mice?"

"Text him?" Sunwoo looks at you and nods, flashing you Professor Choi's number on his own phone screen.

"We usually text him if it's something really urgent and needs his attention."

"You guys don't just do this in a Slack chat or something?"

"Trust me, he's probably the worst with Slack. I don't even think the guy has it downloaded on his phone so it's easily accessible." Sunwoo chuckles. "Y/N, I promise. It's fine. I'm not setting you up for trouble." You let out a small sigh and pull out your phone to take pictures. You're not really sure why you're hesitant, it definitely was a thing in Professor Bahng's lab, too. You're probably just used to the older cohorts of professors that required everything to be sent through email, Slack maybe. The new wave? Definitely a bunch of texters.

you: hi professor choi, this is y/n! i'm with sunwoo and he asked me to send this picture to you of one of our mice. the vet said he's really sick and we should go with a different treatment plan for it. it'll cost a little more if we do, but it should help get the mouse back on track. can we move forward?

San is paused mid-workout when he gets your text, sweat dripping down from his forehead when he zooms into the picture, analyzes a bit and lets out a sigh.

prof. choi: yes please!

you: got it!

prof. choi: could i trouble you and sunwoo to make sure there aren't any other sick mice?

you: of course! sorry about that. ☹️

prof. choi: all good, it happens! no need to apologize for anything. thank you. ☺️

prof. choi: also, can you have him charge it to our outreach account? he'll know and could probably pass along the finance info to you.

you: of course!

prof. choi: 😬

"He said it's fine and to charge it to the outreach account." Sunwoo raises his brow.

"He answered you already? I thought we'd have to make rounds in this room before he responded."

"Yeah?"

"Jeez, what's the trick? I feel like I have to bombard him sometimes."

"I literally just got here, I have no trick." You laugh.

"Sure." Sunwoo laughs and shrugs it off. "Anyway, sounds good! Thanks. Let's go take care of these mice and make sure the rest are fine."

"He said that, too."

"Figured! Always gotta be one step ahead of him. That's the only way to survive here." You laugh and follow Sunwoo deeper into the mice room, looking through the rest of the mice to make sure none of them are as sick. You help him wean a couple and split them into different cages, the last half of the walkthrough consisting of making sure everything else looks good. When you get back to the basement, you spend a bit of time helping Belle before starting on the first half of your behavior experiment with Sunwoo. It's a lot of work spent in a dark room, surrounded by bright computer lights— time moves quick, but your energy drains quicker.

When you finally catch a break after the past few hours of working alongside of Sunwoo, you wander down the halls to head to the bathroom and get a snack. You freshen up after relieving yourself, feeling a bit icky after being in a stuffy room, the stuffy basement, all afternoon. You prance over to the vending machine down the hall, grabbing some peanut m&ms to munch to satisfy your sweet tooth. Just as you turn the hall to walk back towards the office, Professor Choi walks out of one of the rooms, damn near colliding with you once again.

"Woah, hey. Sorry." He says, his arm out in case of any minor collisions.

"You're good, Professor Choi." He smiles, eyes shifting down to the bag of m&ms in your hand.

"Sweet tooth?"

"Need some sugar. Been cooped up with the rooms with Sunwoo."

"You're gonna take a break, right?"

"I will." You give him a toothless smile. "Sorry about texting you earlier. Sunwoo said it was fine, but I don't know. I still feel bad somehow." Professor Choi laughs before shaking his head.

"It really is fine, I promise you Y/N. Especially in that case. You can text or call me for emergency purposes." You pause, unsure how to respond. "I mean it."

"Okay, okay." You chuckle. "I will." He smiles at you before clutching his laptop close to his hip and checking his watch.

"Good. I'll see you later, gotta run off to prepare for this symposium with Professor Bahng."

"Symposium?"

"Mhm. He's leading one next month."

"Are you doing a talk?" He nods.

"Yeah unless he boots me out of the agenda for whatever reason." You giggle and shake your head. "You'll be there whenever it happens, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Can't miss that."

"Good answer." He smirks. "And Y/N?"

"Mhm?"

"Hope that's not gonna be dinner for you. Don't skip meals on me, please." You silently nod, waving him off before turning on your heel to head back to your desk.

That same evening, you have never been so grateful for having listened to a professor. It was such a tiny detail when Professor Choi told you to save his number for emergency purposes, and here you are experiencing said emergency purpose.

You were wrapping up your behavior experiment in one of the lab rooms, excited to finally leave the small room and the darkness behind. You had set your mice down on the cart, taking a few notes on an index card to jot into your lab notebook later on— which, you probably shouldn't have left your notebook in the office area in the first place. You needed to reference something mid-note-taking about the mouse's behavior, but you couldn't. When you decided to run out and grab your notes, the door handle flew off and locked you inside.

Fuck.

You tried your best not to panic, but the room felt like it was closing in on you with how small the space was. How dark the room was, felt like it was getting darker by the minute despite the computers giving off light in the far corners. Trapped between these behavior rigs and the gazillion computers, microscopes and lasers. There was no way to re-attach the handle, or so you couldn't see any possible way, and there was nothing that could help you unlock the door from the inside. The worse part of it all is that none of your texts or calls to Sunwoo are going through due to the sucky ass service in the basement, and you know he's busy doing some neuron culturing off in the wetlab room nearby.

He's definitely not checking his phone, and he's probably not going to check on you anytime soon.

Your mind immediately goes to Professor Choi next. It could be a long shot, but you decide to pace the room, hoping the call could go through at some point. This could be considered an emergency purpose, right? He wouldn't think you're silly for contacting him because of a door handle, no?

You definitely should save the facilities and security numbers, too.

"Hello?"

"Oh. Hi!" You're wide-eyed when the call actually goes through in this one spot of the room, Professor Choi's sultry, deep voice picking up on the other end.

"Hey Y/N. Everything alright?"

"Um, no? I'm kinda embarrassed to say this but I'm stuck in the W072 behavior room. The door knob inside flew off so I can't even open the door." He smiles to himself before letting out a small breath.

"Sorry, yeah. That door's been having major issues. I'll have to ask facilities what's going on with that. I'll be over in about 5 minutes."

"I'm so sorry. I really am embarrassed, I hope I'm not pulling you from—"

"You don't need to worry." He chuckles. "You're not pulling me away from anything. I could use the break anyway. Be there for you soon. Hang tight for me, hm?" You bite onto your bottom lip and nod as if he can see you.

"Mmkay. Thank you."

"You're welcome." And with that, the call ends. You're awkwardly sitting on the computer chair in the dark room, nothing but the sounds of computers whirring in the background; sounds of the mice scrambling around their cages, a little desk lamp and the computers the only source of light. You barely have service down here, and you're eternally grateful the call actually went through to Professor Choi's phone.

You'd be stuck here until Sunwoo decides to randomly pop in, if he randomly pops in. Until who fucking knows when, really.

Professor Choi arrives within that 5 minute mark, and he startles you by the way he swings the door open. He's wearing a Stussy shirt and jeans, sporting that same, dimpled smile of his that you're finding is becoming a weakness for you.

"Hey you." He says. "You okay?"

"Yeah, thank you." You stand, the broken door handle in hand. "Uh, I have this?" He laughs before wedging the small trash can in between the door frame and the door itself.

"Let me see." He says, gently taking the door handle from your hand. You watch from behind as he crouches down to see if he can temporarily re-attach the damn thing. I mean truthfully, he is also trying to look useful and attractive in front of you somehow. Even though he doesn't know what the fuck is going on. "Uh." He hums, making you giggle.

"Maybe you should leave it for facilities." He turns to you with a playful glare.

"Saying I can't fix it?"

"I mean, doesn't look like it." He playfully tuts and stands, setting the door handle aside. "We might both get stranded here."

"That wouldn't be too bad, now would it?" He looks at you with such a shit-eating smirk, it causes you to shy away and release eye contact before you break. "But, you're right. There are things I'm better off with and that's not fixing door handles." He pouts and you shake your head.

"We can't always be great at everything, Professor Choi." You tease.

"Yeah." He lets out a small laugh. "Were you finished in here?"

"Uh, yeah. I just need to put the mice away." You lazily point at the cart behind you with a few cages sitting on top.

"Let me help."

"Oh no, I promise, I'm okay."

"I wanna." He slips on some gloves and starts dragging the cart towards the opposite end of the behavior room where the mice are housed. They sit behind blackout curtains and on ventilated shelves, some sitting a bit higher up that require a small step-stool to reach. You start setting the cages into their open spots in the middle row, but the last three need to be placed on the very stop shelf. "Where do these guys go?"

"Up there." You point and he smiles, grabbing two of the cages for you.

"Got you. Careful, your head. I'm gonna reach over." He says from right behind you, his long arms reaching above to slip them into the open slots. You freeze, eyes watching him grab the last cage and slip it onto the shelf. "Good?" You turn to face him. He's still standing in the same position, not giving you much room to work with in this tiny corner.

"Mhm." You look up at him and god, does he like looking at you from this angle. "Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome." He matches your soft tone. With how close you are, you can smell his cologne lingering in the air.

"You're always coming to my rescue."

"I don't mind. I'd do it again if I needed to." He ticks his head to the side. "Gotta give Sunwoo a little talk about not taking care of you properly."

"He's doing a very good job, I promise." You don't know what the hell comes over you, but you tap him against the chest lightly— and you almost lose it. First, out of embarrassment, but second, because of how firm his chest felt. You knew he worked out, but damn; you were wondering how well built and toned he actually was. He doesn't do anything, though. He's still looking at you with a small smile etched on his lips. You can tell he's having a slight internal debate on whether or not he should also tease and play around.

He knows he can't. Doesn't mean he won't.

"Oh yeah?" He starts as he steps a little closer to test the waters. His eyes are flicking across your features as if he's trying to study you and study you well. It's a bit obvious he's itching to do something— brush your hair back, put a hand on your waist. Something, anything—

"Yo, you all good in there?" You hear Sunwoo's voice at the door, causing you to abruptly step aside and wipe your sweaty palms down your pants. "Oh shit, woah! Professor Choi out in the wild! What's going on?" Sunwoo fully steps into the behavior room and places his hands on his hips, San giving off a hearty laugh at his comment.

"The door handle flew off." Is all you say while pointing at it sitting on the edge of the table. "I tried calling and texting you but none of them went through. Professor Choi had to come save me." Sunwoo nods nonchalantly. Luckily, it doesn't seem like he thinks anything is strange or odd. Definitely didn't catch you two being only inches away from each other, damn near pressed up against one another. You're curious as to what Professor Choi would've done next, and now, you may never know.

Welp.

"The hell did you do?" Sunwoo laughs. "Just started and already breaking things?" He teases.

"You know that door's been an issue since forever." San chimes in.

"I know, I'm just teasing." You roll your eyes. "Anyway, are you all good in here?"

"Mhm. I uploaded everything onto the server."

"Sweet. I'll take a look in a bit." You watch Sunwoo as he starts to leave the room, grabbing your notebook and laptop from the other table before following suit.

"Thank you again, Professor Choi." You give him a cute smile that he finds himself admiring, being last to leave the room.

"Of course, Y/N. I'll come save you any time you need me to." You let out a small laugh before shaking your head and catching up to Sunwoo. He bites onto his bottom lip as he sheds off his gloves and tucks his hands into his pockets, letting the both of you be as he heads back into his office. Once he's inside, he lets out a hefty sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose because fuck.

He needs to control himself better.

"Fuck." He finally says outloud, slightly stressed over you and those pretty eyes.

Pretty lips.

Pretty smile.

He plops back down onto his office chair, shaking off the thoughts before proceeding to check his inbox and review his final draft of the progress report. He needed to find any distraction right now; his thoughts, judgment even, slowly being clouded by you.

—FLASHBACK

"I think I'm getting this all wrong." You rest your head on the library table, reviewing your journal club presentation lazily.

"Why do you think that, Y/N? The way you interpret the paper is gonna make sense to the lab. Journal club is meant for you guys to build off of it and have a discussion." Jiung continues to work on his homework across from you.

"I know, I'm just nervous for some reason."

"Then just send your email to Professor Choi to see if he'll go over it with you. Give you peace of mind." You sigh.

"Yeah. He's probably gonna be so done with me after the past few days." Jiung snorts.

"Imagine if he hadn't saved you." His laugh grows. "How the fuck would you have gotten out?"

"I'd like to believe that Sunwoo would have at least checked on me." He nods.

"Yeah, maybe. Glad you're okay, though. What did Professor Choi say?" You shrug, completely [and obviously] leaving out the details about the close moments you've had with him.

"Nothing. He just came to get me and that was it." Jiung nods silently, giving you the opportunity to type away on Outlook to send Professor Choi an email.

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Hi Prof. Choi, Do you have some time to go over the paper I chose for journal club on Monday? I just want to make sure I'm getting the format and processes right. Here's my presentation attached. Best, Y/N

You minimize the window and continue to work on other things, hoping you can meet with Professor Choi and talk about it soon—

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Sure! We can go over it tomorrow if you'd like? 11am good? - San

"He responded." Jiung hums as a response.

"Nice. What did he say?"

"We can meet tomorrow to go over it."

"See, that's good! I'm sure it'll be fine, but at least you can get Professor Choi's input for your first journal club." You nod.

"Yeah. Hopefully it is fine."

—END

You take your knuckles to the surface of Professor Choi's door, giving it a good two, three soft knocks before you hear a faint 'come in' from the other side. You swing the door open, finding Professor Choi diligently typing away as he sits at his desk. His brows are tightly knit together, and he's wearing a simple white button-up; but today, he's got black glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey Y/N." He says. "Sorry, give me a sec. I just need to respond to this email really quickly."

"No worries." You sit on the couch. "Take your time." His lips curve into a small smile just as he types away, then clicks to send it off.

"Alright. Hi." He smiles his usual, dimpled smile, black strands framing his forehead. "How's it going?"

"Good. How about you?"

"I'm alright, can't complain." He chuckles. "So, you wanted to talk about journal club? I checked your powerpoint and everything seemed fine. What's wrong?"

"I just feel like I'm not getting it right."

"Why do you think that way? You know, journal club is for us to discuss the paper as a lab. You don't have to get everything right, Y/N."

"But, still." You pout and San almost melts into a puddle in his seat. Fuck, he thinks. This is gonna be difficult. "I just wanna make sure I'm at least getting the process or the concept of the paper correct." Professor Choi stands and walks around his desk and it's your turn to internally lose it. He's got on black slacks but they fit him so well— his outfit fits him so well, you don't think you've ever seen someone built so.. perfectly.

"Wanna walk though it?" You barely hear the question as your eyes continue to [subtly] glaze over his figure, and he surely catches on.

How much more obvious can you be?

Well, how could he not know how attractive he is? Him and his friends are a consistent, hot topic on campus.

He's so damn fine. He knows it.

"Y/N?" He leans back against the edge of his desk, snapping you out of your thoughts. He's got a leg crossed over the other, arms crossed tightly against his chest. His head is tilted while he watches you, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while you shift your eyes back up to meet his. You're sure you aren't seeing things. You're almost positive Professor Choi's subtly feeding into this, right? "Lost you there?"

"Yes. Sorry." You purse your lips together. "Got distracted."

"Hm." He hums, licking his lips. "Over what?"

"Nothing." You smile and shrug it off like it's nothing even though it clearly isn't. He knows, and he's not entirely mad about it one bit. It's a relief he's not the only one; question is, who's gonna be the first to break? San knows he can't, and it's a game he hates to play.

Doesn't mean he won't.

"Didn't seem like nothing."

"Swear." You stand to walk over to the whiteboard on his wall, grabbing a colored marker to start doodling out your thoughts for the journal club paper.

"Lying to me again?" He teases.

"I would never lie to you, Professor Choi." He chuckles, coming behind you as you continue to write.

"That's nice to know. I hope you know you can tell me anything, though." You pause, letting his words marinate. No, you don't know that. You don't think you can tell him how fine he is or how much you wanna jump his bones, not at all.

"I'm just confused." You continue your writing. The statement goes for a couple of things: the journal club paper, some of the data that you and Sunwoo have from recent behavior work, Professor Choi himself. "I need to know if I'm understanding it correctly." You point to the board, slowly turning over your shoulder to look at him. "I don't wanna misread anything." He subtly bites onto his bottom lip before stepping closer and taking the marker from your hand, drawing a huge circle around your writings.

"You're not." And for San, that statement can also go for a couple of things: your overthinking, the way you feel silly for questioning your understanding of the paper, you. "If it's one thing I can tell you Y/N— it's to not overthink and question every little thing. You'll waste time doing that when you've had it right all along." He looks at you and gives you one final reassurance: "You're not misreading any of this."

"Okay." You respond softly, eyes shifting to his lips and back up to his almond-shaped eyes. For some reason, this no longer feels like it's about the paper. For some reason, it feels like he's telling you he's on the same page, like he wants you just as bad as you want him. For some reason, you no longer feel like you're just delusional and in your feelings— even though, everything about this is completely wrong and against the code. It could fuck everything up for the both of you.

But, you don't care.

He doesn't either.

"So, tell me again." He clears his throat. You watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows, capping the marker as he sits back on the corner of his desk and looks at you. "What's your understanding about their process?" You continue to write on the board, explaining your understanding of the paper. Professor Choi continues to sit closely behind you, nodding in agreement as you talk him through it. He saw your presentation and he didn't find any flaws with it; he's not sure why you're second guessing yourself when you did everything correctly.

You've done everything perfectly.

"Y/N." He says lowly, almost near your ear. "You've got it down. Don't second guess yourself."

"I can't help it."

"Trust me, don't. You'll make it more complicated than it needs to be. That was perfect. Your presentation was great."

"Should I fix anything?"

"No."

"Professor Choi. Are you lying to me now?" He chuckles.

"Is that what you think of me?" He's fighting with himself, closing his hand into a fist to fight the urge to tuck your hair behind your ear. He continues to keep his eyes on yours, though. "You know I could never do that."

"I'll take your word for it." In the end, you've gotten the reassurance you felt like you needed, you yearned for. But, in the end, you've also grown more confidence— enough to believe that Professor Choi was in the same boat as you. Because he is, he just can't say it out loud right now. This has nothing to do with the lab. His work. Your rotation, your projects.

This is all about you, and just you.

"Good." His tone drops before he checks his phone. He lets out a sigh, a small frown growing on his lips. How the hell did 30 mins go by so fast? "Shit. I gotta run to another meeting." He says softly, eyes quickly shifting around you facial features. "Is it okay if we continue this on the phone later? Just to make sure you've got everything before journal club on Monday?"

"S-sure." You quickly look at his lips, back up to his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

"5pm okay for me to call?"

"Dinner time for you?"

"Mm, not really. Dinner is whenever I feel hungry." You chuckle and nod. "What about you?"

"I can eat after."

"Okay, 5pm."

"Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome." He smiles toothlessly, watching as you carefully walk past him and grab your things. Again, he fights the temptation to pull you by the waist and press you flush against his body—

Doing things only he can imagine in his head.

"Are you walking out or are you doing a Zoom meeting?" San forces himself to snap out of it, lowly clearing his throat as he walks around and plops onto his computer chair.

"Zoom. Talk later?" You smile before waving, leaving San to his peace. The tension in the room feels like it's finally gone, finally been lifted. He almost felt a little suffocated in his own office while having you there— but it's only because of how you make him feel, and now obviously, how he makes you feel. He lets out a hefty sigh, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes before hopping into the Zoom call about budgets and the status of his current grants.

The meeting goes on for so long, it feels like. The whole afternoon is a drag and San feels exhausted by the time it hits 4pm. He's skipping out on the gym today, still a little sore from yesterday's workout. As soon as he wraps up his last meeting, he packs up and leaves, saying goodbye to the one or two heads still lingering in the office area.

He still has enough groceries at home to make it through to the weekend, so he doesn't take any pitstops on the way home. He lets out a huge sigh when he finally pulls into his garage and parks the car, stepping out of his shoes and setting his bag aside in his office. He jogs upstairs to take a hot, steamy shower— enough to help relieve the stress from the week's activities. He throws on some flannel pajama pants and a white tee, heading back downstairs to throw some salmon and vegetables in the oven before cooking rice.

While waiting for his dinner to finish, he settles back down in his office and pulls up your contact info from the text thread just as it's about to hit 5pm. He leans back against the chair, listening to the phone ring on the other line.

"Hi." You pick up so sweetly and it immediately brings a smile to San's face despite his long afternoon.

"Hi. Still a good time to talk?" You sit on your couch, presentation popped up on your laptop.

"Yeah, it is."

"How was the rest of your afternoon?"

"It was okay. I just finished working with Belle on a few things after our meeting."

"Is that going well?"

"Yeah." You chuckle a bit. "I really like working with Sunwoo and Belle."

"I'm glad to hear that. That's all that matters." He pulls up your presentation, clicking through it as his eyes skim each slide.

"How was yours, Professor Choi?"

"Ah, well. Really long. But, it's over with." He laughs. "So, I'm skimming through your presentation and everything looks fine. I think the one thing I'll say is, maybe you should add another slide to talk about the results that didn't pan out well. I know we typically don't do stuff like that, but it helps us discuss what went wrong and what they should've done to get the end result they wanted."

"Oh, yeah. I was thinking about that but wasn't sure if I should."

"You definitely should. Remember what I said about not second-guessing yourself?" He says in a light-hearted tone that has you rolling your eyes and holding in a big smile.

"I know, I know."

"I think the only other thing I'd add is a slide on Figure 2 and 3. It isn't much, but it does relate a lot to what we do in lab. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, I can."

"Yeah?" He repeats, sinking into his seat with his legs spread. "Good." He hears you typing away before you sigh, pausing the conversation for a brief moment while you gather your thoughts and take notes.

"What else are you doing this evening, Professor Choi?" You finally break the silence after a few.

"Hm." He hums. "Just talking to you." You can hear the smirk through the phone, see it even. You bite your bottom lip and shift your position on the couch, heat rising to your cheeks— pooling at your core replaying the deep tone he speaks in.

"Nothing else?"

"Don't really need to do anything else while I'm on the phone with you, no." You sit on his statement, hand toying with the string from your sweats. He doesn't need to do anything else because he's on the phone with you? You take it as a compliment, one that has your heart beating through your chest, palms all sweaty again. He was going to be the death of you.

"Y/N! Let's go! I'm hungry!" You hear Felix from the other side of your door, and San does, too. He lets out a silent chuckle, a little sad he's gonna have to let you go eventually.

"Is there anything else I should do?"

"For?" He questions because his mind is running through a million thoughts at once. You are very much talking about journal club, but he's very much thinking about other things; ways to push you and him forward.

"The slides."

"No. That's all, Y/N. It's perfect."

"Thank you."

"Y/N! Please! They have the best menu tonight, we need to go before everyone gets there!" Felix whines, making the rest of your friends laugh as he pounds on the door. "What are you even doing anyway?!"

"I gotta go." You sigh and shut your laptop. "My friends are about to bust my door down." He chuckles.

"Well, hope the call helped, Y/N."

"It did, Professor Choi. All of this did. Thank you again."

"Course. Have a good night."

"You too." San subtly nibbles on his bottom lip as he hears you breathily respond, the tone and sound of your voice immediately doing things to him. He clears his throat to rid himself of the thoughts, to rid himself of the feeling, distracting himself with the unread emails sitting in his inbox and the random announcements for the week.

Well now, Namjoon's sudden group text with him, Jongho, Christopher, Mingi and Yeosang.

namjoon: my brilliant, all-star fellas

chris: oh lord, what is it?

namjoon: 😀 need ya'll to attend the happy hour event

yeosang: to babysit? yaaaay love this time of the year...... !!

namjoon: lol no, just to hang out! please 🥹 gotta show the students we're involved in student life esp at the start of the new quarter. you know this!

jongho: they run around in our labs and play w/ our equipment

jongho: how much more involved do we need to be exactly

san: 🤣 what're the details again? sorry i totally glazed over that email. it's probably in my trash bin actually

namjoon: all that energy put into announcements just for you to trash it 🫤

namjoon: tomorrow, starts at 7pm at the monroe bar

san: i'll be there

mingi: same

yeosang: 🫡

jongho: 👍🏼

namjoon: knew i could trust my boys!

jongho: make the dean give me and san some real estate

namjoon: putting my phone on dnd now 😅

namjoon: jk yes don't worry, i'll work my magic ok. give me a bit of time, but i got you.

namjoon: thanks guys, have a good evening!

San lets out a breath when he sets his phone aside and runs a hand down his face, mustering all the energy he has left to get his dinner together and onto a plate. He can't, though. His thoughts are too stuck on you, and the way you look. The way you act around him. The way you sound on the phone.

With how big the welcome back happy hour event tends to be, there's no doubt you'll be there with your friends. And as much as San is excited to see you outside of the lab, enjoying yourself in a bar with your friends—

He knows it's equally, incredibly dangerous for him.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension

169 notes · View notes

anadiasmount · 11 months ago

Note

Married life with Jude!!

headcannon for jude bc i’ve never done one! hope you enjoy! 🧟‍♀️🤍

masterlist | jude’s masterlist | send requests/ concepts!

would def introduce/call you as “wife” everywhere you go. doesn’t matter where you guys are headed he would so go “this is my wife y/n.” would make me feel so giddy i will not lie 😣😔

kiss your ring finger whenever he pleases, or when he notices you becoming nervous or anxious because he knows how much kisses with you mean. “relax darling, it’s us. me and you.”

have a random argument in the morning and jude being first to apologize bc he one, hates to see you upset bc of him, two due to the fact he hates when you’re not talking to him, and three bc he hates fighting especially with you. “forgive me okay? i didn’t mean it.”

would text you whenever either of you are out to check in, and starts the text with “wife…” or “husband” to remind to pick something up, or send a quick i love you text, to tell you about their days or something funny you guys saw, to say they miss each other. props if they send pictures instead of just texting.

on random occasions would pull out your wedding photos because it’s the most memorable and unforgettable night of his life. would explain to you how he felt in that moment and pull you his chest and tell you he loves you so much.

calls you “mrs. bellingham” to get your attention or walks into the room bc you and him love it. friends and family would make fun of you and you would shy away from it, but jude just smirks bc deep down it’s a reminder to everyone you’re married to him.

the two of you spending every morning together before he leaves for training or away games, having your daily tea/coffee with cookies/biscuits because you hate being apart even if it’s for just a little bit. “gonna miss you so much angel. wait for me so we can grocery shopping okay?”

LATE NIGHT TALKS BECAUSE WHATTT??? i have trouble sleeping at night and he would def stay up with you and you the same with him when you can’t sleep and just talk about kids, pets, friends and family, work, about the old times when you first got together.

brings you your favorite bouquet of flowers when he comes back from away duty, never getting over the fact that you’re married to him. kissing your forehead first and then leaning down to connect your lips together. “your favorite flowers, but you’re my favorite flower beautiful.”

annoys the shit out of you when he’s sick or clingy, begging for you to hold him and kiss his cheeks or temple because you apparently take the pain away. your hands massaging down his back and neck to smooth him, but sometimes he pretends just so he can feel you. “i need my wife to be with me in ‘sickness and in health’ remember?”

when back in england he loves doing date night at late night. takes you on walks after dinner and treats you to ice cream, buys you something to remember the night. his hand on your thigh in the car or around your waist when walking. “look so pretty for me. why are you so beautiful, wife?”

BYE IM SORRY BUT HES THE TYPE TO BUY SHIRTS THAT SAY “my wife” “his wife” and “my husband” “her husband” and force you go to public wearing them because he thinks it’s hilarious. “i’m sorry i can’t. i need a good laugh. please baby? do it for me?”

buys you small presents because he can’t stop spoiling you. “for you my wife. don’t start with that because i have every right to do anything to make you smile.”

would pull up to your work place when you least expect it and wait in your office/ designated area to eat lunch when he’s off. you would tell him all the gossip or topic of the day to reach, and he’s attentively listening because he loves hearing about the silliest thing that occur in your work place. everyone would just stare at the two of you in awe because you are the definition of couple goals.

when you attend his matches you would surprise him with a “his wife #5” jersey and he would smile wide and pull you close after the match ends. he would make fun of you at first but he loves the idea bc he know it’s a reminder to not him but the whole world. “my wife indeed. it’s gonna become my favorite jersey you’ve worn. gotta remind everyone who your husband is right?”

a relationship especially when married isn’t one sided, so the two of you always go above and beyond to make each other happy even if it’s the smallest word or action. squeeze in a cuddle even if it’s not appropriate timing. always communicating about how you to ensure the two of you are okay.

even the smallest glances you send when you’re not together, it’s glances like those that will never fail to put a smile on each others faces. like the of you would be the only humans alive.

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot

667 notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + seven

authors notes: so this one leaves probably more questions than answers, but there's also a lot of things sprinkled throughout, and all questions will be answered....eventually.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, language, discussion of parental loss, brief (two line) flashback of aftermatch following csa, suggestive themes, ptsd trigger

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 8k

Solana: Are you busy today?

Normally, Roman would keep his phone face down during business meetings but with increasing communication with Solana, he’s leaned more on the side of having it face up so he’s aware when notifications come through.

It’s not a priority. Just a…..preference.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly shoots her back a text.

Roman: What do you need?

Before he can put his phone back down, those three dots appear. He keeps the thread open for her reply to slide in.

Solana: Nvm. I’m sorry to bother you.

Roman curses inwardly, barely keeping it to himself and not making the room of men aware of his frustrations. He can acknowledge Solana has slightly improved with her over–apologizing over the past couple weeks, but it’s moments like this that get him upset all over again.

He fucking hates repeating himself.

But….

There’s that small, annoying ass, nagging voice in the back of his head that reminds him of why she’s always so apologetic, why she thinks her damn existence itself is an inconvenience. And he can’t really fault her, blame her for years of trauma fucking with her mental.

Roman: You’re apologizing again. How many times I gotta tell you to stop that shit?

It could probably, definitely, be worded better. Maybe even a bit…kinder. But Roman is a lot of things.

Kind is not one of them.

He then adds, knowing she’ll probably try to find another excuse to not be honest with him.

Roman: What do you need? The truth, Solana.

There’s an appearance and disappearance of those dots at least three or four times. He can picture her biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to word what probably is a simple request as best she can.

The amount of overthinking she does has to be fucking exhausting.

Solana: I was just gonna see if you could meet me at the library. I wanted to show you something.

Solana: But, it’s not a big deal! Please forget I said anything.

A couple of things strike Roman strange, two in particular. The first being that as soon as she says what she needs, the answer is an automatic yes. Like, it’s not even something he really thinks too much about, but he also chalks it up to a level of genuine curiosity. This might be the first time she’s actually directly asked him for something.

It must be important. Important enough for her to ask him to come see whatever it is, at least.

It’s why he doesn’t even comment on her second, follow up text.

Roman: What time you get off?

He can make whatever work.

Solana: It’s okay. Really.

This damn girl….

Roman’s jaw clench as he types out a text that matches his mood.

Roman: Solana….

She’s giving him a damn migraine. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just ignore her at this point. If it’s that fucking important, she wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time.

But then the stupid nagging voice returns, reminding him that her even asking in the first place is a huge deal that shouldn’t necessarily be shot down because of lingering struggles that are probably going to be around for a while.

Solana literally has years of baggage and trauma she needs to heal from.

And that shit doesn’t happen overnight.

Solana: 3pm

Roman blows out a breath. Fucking finally.

He lays his phone back down, not necessarily wanting to hear any pushback or counter arguments she might try to supply, fake ass reasons she wants to back away from her assertive request.

Not happening.

Roman: I’ll be there.

“Jey.” Roman’s deep voice cuts through the group who set their eyes on him. “I need you and Jimmy to handle the Barrett meeting for me.” While the twins are annoying as shit majority of the time, they’re effective all of the time. Roman has trusted countless meetings with them, and none have turned out badly. They always get shit handled.

His cousins both echo okayness with this change in plans, as expected. The same way Roman expected his Wise Man to be the one with questions.

“My Tribal Chief, we’ve had this meeting scheduled for weeks. What could possibly be more important?”

It’s a fair question, Roman isn’t too stubborn to admit that. But, it’s also not a question that applies. Again, it’s not that Solana is important, per se, it’s just that if his alternative is dealing with Barret’s loquacious business dealings, he’d prefer Solana.

He’s also partially intrigued by the mere fact she’d even had the balls to ask something of him in the first place. It’s promising. Assertiveness has always been more attractive to him than passiveness.

Roman’s answer is both simple and vague. “I have somewhere to be.”

“But—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s childlike smile deepens suddenly, as if he’s been picked to be fucking line leader. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“Who’s the Tribal Chief?”

Rikishi is the only one to offer a visible reaction, hiding his chuckle. He knows exactly where this is going, even if his decades old friend does not.

“Y–you are, my Tribal Chief.”

Romans voice is sharp and lethal. “So why the fuck are you asking me to answer to you?”

Paul’s expression pales. “I would never, my—”

“Sound like it to me,” Jimmy’s messy ass chimes in. He looks at Jey. “What you think, Uce?”

“Sound like it to me too.” Jey, as expected, agrees. Only for him to nearly fall back in his seat when he jumps up so both feet are on the expensive ass leather. Roman is annoyed all over again for a new reason. “Ayo, Uce, ya’ll got a rat problem!”

At that, Jimmy is twinning with his brother in more than just appearance, also with his feet off the floor and onto the leather chair. Roman hopes they both fall over and break their goddamn necks. Rikishi can handle Barrett just fine.

“Ain’t you like a goddamn billionaire? How the hell you got Stuart Little and his fam running around your crib!”

Roman’s gaze follows the line of vision the twins are so damn focused on only to be met with Dulce calmly walking past both of them to sit in front of him, looking up with a tilted head.

She’s clearly looking for Solana.

And he knows this because it’s become a bit of a habit. If he’s home and she’s not, Dulce’s nosy ass seems to seek him out as if he’s supposed to magically make her owner appear. It’s not something he’s brought up to Solana, because he knows she would just freak the fuck out and over apologize for Dulce “bothering” him.

And that’s not the case.

It’s a bit annoying, but it’s not a bother.

His staff keep an eye out for her when Solana works, and he’s even seen Solana come back to the house on her lunch breaks to check in Dulce, so he doesn’t mind. She’s keeping up her end of the deal, being the primary caretaker for the puppy.

“That’s Solana’s dog.”

Jimmy’s bewildered gaze is on him. “This a dog?”

“Yes.”

“You let her get a dog? Like a real ass dog?”

“You fucking see her, don’t you?” At that moment, Dulce calmly lays down on the floor next to Roman’s feet which are literally bigger than her small ass. It’s followed up by Paul starting to sneeze.

Jey, who is now sitting back in his chair like a normal human being, points out, “man, you hate dogs.”

Naturally, Roman goes a bit on the defense, shoulders straightening. “I don’t hate them.”

Jimmy makes a sound, also with his feet planted on the ground. “Bruh, you literally use to tell us when we was growing up, ‘I hate dogs.’ That’s why we started calling you Big Dog, cause it was funny to see you get all mad and shit.”

Roman may or may not remember that, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to acknowledge it. Besides, he’s allowed to change his mind. Hate was always probably too strong of a word to use anyway.

There are a lot of things Roman hates, even more people that he hates, but dogs are not on the list.

It was more irritation than anything.

“Whatever.”

“What’s her name?” Rikishi asks, bending over his chair to try to catch Dulce’s attention.

Roman watches the puppy gradually make her way over his cousin, ears dropping as he gently rubs the top of her head. “Dulce.”

“Dul–what?”

This…..this is why Roman is on high blood pressure medication, why Dr. Michaels recommended he start wearing one of those smart watches to monitor his heart rate and other shit. Not that he did it.

“Dulce. It’s Spanish.”

“Aw man, why you ain’t say that in the beginning?” Jimmy turns to Jey. “The dog only speak Spanish.” He looks over at his dad who now has Dulce in his lap, continuing to pet her. Roman rolls his eyes. This dog is a damn attention whore, just like he predicted. “Hola, lil’ chalupa.”

Jey punches his brother on the arm. “Uce, you can’t be saying that kind of shit. It’s racist.”

“No, it’d be racist if I called the dog Taco Bell since her mama half Mexican, but I ain’t do that shit, cause I like Soso.”

“Stop calling her that.”

Jimmy avoids Roman’s warning and proceeds to ask with all of the intrigue. “So not only did you let her bring a dog up in here, but you let ole’ girl pick a rat for said dog?”

Already irritated and on edge, Roman isn’t sure why Jimmy’s question irritates him as much as it does, and not even because it's a question that’s being posed when he’s trying to review a contract. It’s that Jimmy is questioning Solana’s decision in general.

He answers as calmly as he’s capable of responding. Roman also notices that Paul is red as a tomato as he pulls out an Epipen. Roman easily brings his focus back to Jimmy. “It’s what she wanted.”

“Should have got a big dog,” Jey suggests, hovering over by Rikishi as he tries to interact with Dulce whose eyes are fluttering closed. Roman swears this damn dog sleeps 23 out of the 24 hours in the day.

That answer is simple, Roman grabbing a pen to sign off on the contract in front of him. It’s satisfactory enough. “She’s scared of them.”

“What is she not scared of?”

But that comment, for whatever reason, is what makes him snap. “Get out.”

Both the twins are unfazed, but it seems to trigger something for them as Jimmy exclaims, “I forgot!” He looks over at Jey, reminding. “Remember, Soso made some extra food for us.”

“Oh shit, she sho’ did!”

Roman makes a mental note to write Solana about that. It’s not her job to keep feeding his grown ass, married ass cousins.

The two bid their farewell, Jey shouting out as his parting term, “yeet!”

“Stop doing that,” Roman calls after their retreating forms as Paul also excuses himself for some air.

Maybe he really is allergic to dogs.

Rikishi stands up and walks over to him, still holding Dulce but not saying anything. He’s just looking like he wants to say something. Another of Roman’s pet peeves, of the many.

With a mutter and scowl, he asks, “what?”

His cousin simply shrugs, nonchalantly commenting. “The girl is growing on you, Uce.” It’s an assessment, for certain.

However, Roman has zero desire to have this conversation with his older cousin, or anyone, in general. Hence, his vague ass reply of, “she’s tolerable.”

Because that’s the truth. Solana is neither amazing nor insufferable. She’s in a pretty balanced space between the both: tolerable.

Rikishi gives him that sly ass look that makes Roman want to punch him in his fucking face. “E tua le fale tele i le faleo’ o.”

It’s an old Samoan proverb that means “Even the mighty need others.”

Instantly, Roman’s gaze is cutting. “I don’t need anyone.” He never has, and he never will.

Rikishi just offers a knowing smile, lowering Dulce back to the ground and placing a hand on Roman’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “Of course not, Uce. Of course not.” The older man says nothing else, just walking out, Dulce returning back to stand by Roman’s feet, head up, staring at him.

He rolls his eyes, murmuring as he gets back to work. “She’ll be home later.”

Dulce barks in response.

________

The minute Roman pulls up to Solana’s job, sees the expression on his cousin’s face, he knows something is up.

Solo may have a dangerously good poker face, but Roman invented that shit.

He got the blueprint from Roman.

Solana is sitting near the front of the building, surrounded by fucking children as she reads some basic ass book that they’re all clearly eating up based upon how they can’t seem to take their eyes off her.

Roman isn’t entirely indifferent, instantly taking note of her outfit, more colorful, less covered. It reeks of Naomi’s influence, but in a good way.

As always, she looks good, better than good.

Not wanting to interrupt, Roman motions for a few of his men to take Solo’s place as he gestures for his younger cousin to follow him.

As soon as they’re outside the building, Roman gets right into it. “You got something to say, so say it.”

Roman knows his cousin well enough to know that despite his brutal fighting abilities, the man is always careful and meticulous with his words. Unlike his hot headed older brother, Jey, Solo always thinks before he acts.

It’s why Roman doesn’t think twice about the space between the issuance of his prompt and Solo’s answer.

“You made me your enforcer for a reason, yeah?”

It’s an easy answer. “Yes.”

“You upped me in the ranks to prove myself, right? To earn my way into the inner circle?”

Roman is already bored with the conversation, but considering this is family, he throws a bone. “Yeah.”

“So just how am I supposed to do that when you got me playing babysitter to your new wife?” The turn in topics as well as increase in Solo’s volume does slightly, very slightly, take Roman by surprise. Granted, he does a masterful job, as always, hiding that surprise. “Any lower guy could do this shit. She don’t—”

“Solo.” Roman gives him that tight smile and scratches his beard, typically the last thing people see before they meet their maker. “You answer to me. You do what I say you do, and I say you’re assigned to Solana.”

Roman doesn’t know what’s in the fucking water for people to be testing him the way they are, but it’s really starting to piss him off.

Solo looks down, clearly embarrassed by this talk down but not enough to shut his mouth. “I get that, but—”

“Wasn’t she already hurt once under your watch?” Roman’s voice is razor sharp as he reminds the younger man of his failure. The memory of that fucking bruise on Solana’s wrist from her bitch of a brother returning all of those strong emotions. “I gave you a job, and you didn’t do it. She got hurt while under your protection. It’s because you’re my cousin, you're even still breathing right now. You know better than anyone I don’t accept failure.”

At that, Solo concedes, knowing good and well there is no excuse or justifiable reason. “I understand, my Tribal Chief.”

Roman does his best to chip away some of his anger at this outright disrespect as well as the memories of Solana hurt. He steps past his cousin, calling out over his shoulder. “And Solo, don’t think because you’re family I won’t put a bullet in your head for questioning me.” Out of the corner of his eye, Roman can see Solo still has his head down. “Fail me again, let her get hurt again, and I’ll put your ass six feet under.”

Roman doesn’t allow the conversation to persist beyond that, big steps taking him back to the library just in time to see the children disperse, whipping past him as Solana approaches. The wedges on her feet give her a bit more height, but he still towers over her, which is a usual experience for him.

But, it doesn’t negate the fact that she’s so damn small.

“Hi,” she greets in that familiar unsure voice, eyes darting from him to the ground. “Sorry—I mean—story time ran a bit over.”

He’s appreciative she at least caught the apologizing before he had to call it out. “It’s fine.”

She offers a tight smile and motions for him to follow her, which he does, just as his eyes follow the sway of her ass as she leads the way.

He’s starting to really enjoy seeing her in jeans.

She leads him up the stairs and in the back area he’d visited her before what seems like so long ago, finding that her bastard of a brother had manipulated her into being alone with him. The last fucking time that shit will ever happen.

She pulls a key out her back pocket and unlocks the door, informing, “I have to grab something first.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods. It’s like she feels the need to justify every little thing she does.

Roman watches her walk over to the desk, leaning over as she grabs him something out of her bag, a notebook, the journal he first found her writing in the first time he came to see her at her place of employment.

She’s back by him, closing and locking the door. “Come on.”

Typically, if this was anyone else, Roman would have demanded to know just what the fuck was so important that caused him to have to rearrange his whole schedule. Granted, he can’t take that out on her, nor would he ever, when he’s the one who rearranged his whole schedule for her. She didn't ask him to do that shit.

He did it on his own volition for reasons unknown.

The walk to the next stop doesn’t take long at all, Solana soon sticks her key in another, unfamiliar door, opening and stepping aside but directing him to walk in.

He does as such, naturally and instantly taking in his surroundings once she hits the light switch. It’s a room obviously, a previous storage room he would guess based upon the large filing cabinet lined against the wall to the right of him. There’s also another couple pieces of furniture against that same wall, like a desk and mini bookshelf, but that’s not what immediately catches his attention.

He’s instead more interested by the remaining walls that are essentially lined with larger, white bookshelves, all filled with a combination of notebooks, books, and journals. Completely filled.

Intrigued but also confused, the latter of which is unfamiliar to him, Roman turns to Solana, asking, “what is this?”

Her cheeks redden, but she manages an answer that’s somehow not marked by as much stuttering. “There are all my journals—well,” she stops, giving a nervous laugh. “Most of them. Some are books I’ve read, and….” She walks over to a section that somehow seems different from the others, albeit lined up neatly with the rest of the items. Solana’s hand almost hesitantly feathers over the spines of the journals. At closer look, Roman can see they’re a bit dated and worn than the others. “These were my mother’s.”

Her answer surprises him, but he quickly recalls her sharing that she started writing because of her mother, because they wrote to each other.

She clears her throat and then turns back to him, sharing, “every time I finish a journal, I leave it here.”

Obviously. “Why here?”

“My mom started it. It—it was an arrangement she had with Mrs. Jensen. She worked here, and along with her pay, she arranged so she could keep her writings here and after….” Solana starts to hesitate, and Roman can see it’s because emotion is brewing. Just gently bubbling under the surface. “After she died, I kept up with it.”

Roman recognizes the sensitive nature of the subject and makes a subtle effort to change the topic on her behalf. “You’ve really written in all of these?” It’s impressive. He has to give her that. The thought of writing in general has never appealed to him, so for her to have a room full of journals she’s completed is fucking impressive.

She nods, adding sheepishly, “filled em’ up.” Solana then takes the one in her hand, lifting it a bit. “Finished this one this morning.” He watches her squeeze it into a row that’s probably already being pushed to the limit.

She’s going to run out of space eventually.

She’ll need something bigger, sooner rather than later. Roman compartmentalizes this for a later date and time to navigate.

“You keep em’ here to hide them also, don’t you?”

“They can never know what I’ve written….” She doesn’t need to say who they are. It’s more than obvious. It’d be a sure death wish. “I just—-I know you said you’d write for now and it’s been almost a month, but—but I—I figured if you knew just how important and helpful writing is to me—”

“Solana.” There’s no need for her long ass, drawn out explanation. He understands now why she wanted him to see this space, the goal behind the request. “We’ll write as long as you need it.”

He watches her shoulders drop, a sign of relief. She bites back a smile he wouldn’t be opposed at seeing. She looks even better when she’s smiling. “Thank you.”

He only nods, and Solana finds herself taking him in.

All of him.

In recent weeks, she’s discovered yet another newfound difficulty and source of anxiety for herself. And that new addition would happen to be in the form of the 6’3 man before her.

Roman has always made her nervous, for a variety of good and valid reasons, but recently, the cause of that anxiety has shifted to something else, something a bit on the unfamiliar side for her, or rather something she hasn’t really had to think about since her last disastrous relationship.

Attraction

Solana has come to terms with the fact that she’s attracted to Roman, yes, but also that she hasn’t the slightest clue of what to do about and with that said attraction.

It’s always been there, to a certain extent, but it was more dormant, something she knew was present but voiceless and nameless, almost invisible.

Now, in interacting and engaging with him more, it’s formed more defining characteristics, creating a sense of butterflies in her stomach whenever his smoldering gaze falls on her or when he says something to her, that deep, baritone voice sprouting goosebumps on the back of her neck.

It also doesn’t help that he’s indicated a couple of different times now that he also finds her attractive, or pretty, beautiful even.

That he thinks she looks good.

None of that makes sense to Solana nor can she understand why he would believe any of those things, but she would never make him out to be a liar, so it must be true, to some extent.

And therein lies the dilemma.

One of many that exist in her life.

How she’s supposed to balance attraction with fear, desire with aversion, peace with trauma. It’s all a muddled mess.

“Solana.”

“Sorry.” He only has to sigh one time for her shoulders to sulk, but instead of apologizing, she points out in a small voice. “It’s—it’s a habit.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a fucking habit to break.” His irritation is palpable, and Solana feels even smaller around him, like she’s done something wrong. “It’s not you I’m annoyed with.”

“Oh.” And that genuinely surprises her. In Solana’s experience, she’s always been the source of people’s, especially the men in her life, exasperation. But before she can step out of her comfort zone and ask him what’s wrong, he informs her of something that completely makes her emotions flip and twirl into a puddle of distress.

“Your father called for you today.” And just like that, any sense of relation and ease she’d achieved is dissipated, replaced with growing unrest. “Relax…” It’s not missed upon Solana how Roman’s tone quickly and almost easily jumps from irritated to almost soothing, like he’s trying to calm his nerves. “I told him to fuck off.”

That doesn’t make her feel any better. “He doesn’t like being told no.”

“And you think I give a fuck?” His deep voice is full of indifference and edge, but this time around, Solana knows it’s not directed towards her. He then asks, “do you want to talk to him?”

It takes her off guard. “What?”

Roman repeats himself with a surprising lack of irritation. “Do you want to talk to him?”

Solana can’t remember the last time she was asked such a question. Been given a choice. Then again, it’s happened quite a few times since her marriage to Roman, starting with Bayley asking her something as simple as how she wants her makeup done.

She doesn’t know what to make of that. Just another thing added to that mounting list of confusing and conflicting thoughts and feelings.

“If you want to, I’ll allow it.” He quickly adds the caveat. “But not without me present.”

Prior to the past couple weeks, Solana would suspect Roman’s stipulation stems from a place of possessiveness. But now….now it feels like it comes from someplace else, something so unfamiliar and foreign.

Protectiveness.

It feels like he’s being protective of her.

His proclamation from earlier returns to the forefront of her mind.

“I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you.”

He’d also included a list of people he wouldn’t allow to do as such, including her dad and brother, which is why he clearly would only let Solana speak to her father if he’s around.

It’s just the why that has her stumped.

But, back to the question being posed, the easiest and most simple answer is no. She’d rather not be around someone who’s only ever left her hurt, emotionally and/or physically. Or allocated that task to her brother.

Not to mention the fact that the only reason he probably wants to talk to her is to discuss this nefarious plot she still refuses to allow herself to think about because it’s so inconceivable.

“Not really,” she answers after what feels like forever, “but…”

Roman picks up on her hesitation. “But?”

“Like I said, my–my father doesn’t like being denied.” And before he can protest or again reiterate his outright indifference to her father’s feelings, Solana adds in a quiet voice, “and I usually end up being the one to pay for it.”

Roman steps towards her, and before she can process what’s happening, his finger is under her chin, tugging so that her head is lifted, eyes locked with his.

His voice lowers, quietly asking, “you still don’t believe me when I say I won’t let anyone hurt you, huh?” It’s rhetorical, sure, but Solana is too focused on the fact that this man is touching her. It’s as innocent as innocent comes, but it’s still touch, something she usually hides away from like the plague. However, outside of the initial shock and borderline discomfort, Solana doesn’t jump away, doesn’t feel the need to put as much distance between them. She’s almost….almost comfortable.

“I’m going to kill them both, eventually. Fucking with them in the meanwhile only makes the outcome that much more worthwhile. But…” And the surprises keep coming, especially as he makes her aware of his intentions. “One word. All I need is one fucking word from you. That you want them gone, and it’s done. No questions asked.”

Power.

Solana wonders if this is what power feels like, the ability to say one single word and have a life be ended. How she feels about those lives belonging to her brother and father remains to be seen, but even being given such an option, such an almost promise, it’s an indescribable experience.

Roman’s brown eyes, light and contrasting everything about him that is sharp and hard, study her. “You understand me?”

Naturally, she nods against his index finger that’s under her chin, demanding maintained eye contact.

“I need words.” It’s a reminder from the infamous wedding night, something that seems so far in the rearview mirror now.

“Y–yes.”

He seems pleased by this acknowledgment, enough to pull his hand away from her, Solana trying not to make too much of the strange sensation that floats in her stomach at the absence of his touch.

Roman suddenly offers. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll up your security detail.” Before she can protest and probably apologize if she’d unintentionally indicated it wasn’t already enough, he asks, “you get off at 3 every day?”

“Essentially, y–yes.”

“I’ll start meeting you.”

The surprises just keep on coming.

Instantly, she feels bad, shaking her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Solana.” This man must get tired of having to say her name, she’s certain of that. “I’ll meet you.” He says the same thing, but this time, she knows not to push back because it’s a done thing. “Just make sure I have your updated work schedule.”

“Wh—what about Solo?”

“He’ll still be assigned to you for any other outings.” This makes her feel a little better, that he’s not entirely rearranging and inconveniencing himself for her. “You ready to go?”

Yes. No. Maybe. There’s so many different questions she has with only a select number of answers, but in this moment, she goes with the one that feels most right.

Especially with Roman reaching for her hand.

Nodding, she swallows and accepts his gesture, noticing how his large hand closes over hers, almost protectively.

“Yes.”

________

“That for me?” Solana looks up from the notebook she’s almost certain she’ll have filled and completed by the end of the month. Roman’s presence and question both catch her off-guard. She didn’t really expect to speak to him again today, especially after he already spent time with her earlier that day. She figured he’d had his maximum daily dosage.

Especially after she’d already prepared and fixed dinner for him, the two of them falling into their now routine of him eating in his office, her in the living room before she makes her way out back to the patio where she either writes or, now, plays with Dulce.

Solana shakes her head, answering softly as Roman sits on the chair opposite her. “no. It’s…”

“About your mom?”

With him now aware of the nature of some of her writing, she answers, “yeah.” Roman’s question triggers something she’s certain she intentionally never commented on because it was such a shock to her system that she really didn’t know how to respond. “When….when you said it wasn’t my fault….did—did you mean that?”

If she expected there to be delayed response or even confusion on his end, she was entirely wrong because he answers almost on the spot. “Yes. I told you, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She’s starting to believe that.

Wetting her lips, she informs in that same small voice, “no one’s ever said that to me before.”

Xavier’s unshaven face and dark, judgmental gaze is focused on her, Solana doing her best to ignore the pain that wrecks her body, the beeping of the machines and IV’s in both her arms. The throbbing between her legs is equally scary as it is confusing. What did they do to her, and why did it hurt so much?

He pulls the cigar from his mouth, dropping and stomping it on the floor, gruff voice asking, “why didn’t you fight back?” He shakes his head, spitting at the same spot that’s littered with remnants of one of many poor habits. “You’re weak just like your mother.”

Roman’s firm voice snatches her away from spiraling too deeply in dark memories of an even darker past. She does her best to shake away any sign she was about to dissociate when he surprises her for what feels like the 10th time today, almost quietly sharing, “My mother was killed when I was ten years old.” There’s a synchronous dropping of her mouth and stomach at the exact same time. “You think that shit was my fault?”

The answer is obvious and immediate. “No. Of–of course not. You were—you were just a kid.”

While her response is borderline automatic, coming from a place of pure logic, everything else is so confusing. Roman’s mother is….dead? Not even dead but murdered when he was a child?

Just like hers.

Solana doesn’t know how to process this. It’s not until this very moment that she realizes not once has she ever considered or thought about his immediate family, like parents and even siblings. At the wedding, so many people were present, obvious family members of his, but she’s just now realizing she never considered who was who. Were they all cousins, aunts, in-laws even?

Where is the rest of his immediate family? Better yet, who makes up his immediate family? She’s aware of the twins and even his older cousin Rikishi, but is there not more?

“So were you.” She can’t tell if Roman intentionally works to redirect the focus back onto herself or if he’s unaware of the fact she’s suddenly wondering just how much about the man across from her she still knows nothing about it. “So why is it different for you?”

It’s an effective diversion and valid question that she’s never once asked herself.

“No one’s ever said that either.” Her voice is only a couple octaves above a whisper, and Solana finds herself sharing more than she’s probably ever divulged to anyone. “When I….when I’m writing, a lot of the times, I’m writing letters to my mom.” Having this conversation with anyone, let alone Roman, of all people, wasn’t on her life agenda. But, it seems like a lot of ‘nevers’ are gradually morphing into ‘actualities.’

It’s such a strange experience, too.

“Like I said, we used to write to each other, and after….after she was killed, I couldn’t find it in me to stop. I think at the beginning, I kept doing it because….because I didn’t want to accept she was gone.” The understanding and underlying emotion shifts to the surface, resulting in her quickly wiping at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Like I was waiting for her to write me back.” It’s not missed upon Solana how Dulce suddenly moves closer, tucking her body right up against Solana’s thigh. “And I’ve kept at it over the years, cause—she was the only person I could ever talk to.”

Roman repeats the same message he wrote to her, almost reminding her of a lifeline she’s gradually starting to realize is available for the first time in almost twenty years. “You can talk to me, Solana.”

And she is. She doesn’t know how and especially why, but she is, and as heavy as the topic is, there’s a hint of relief at finally having another living, breathing person to speak to and with about these things.

Especially…..especially someone who can maybe relate to her. “How did you do it—how did you….move past it?”

It’s not the best wording, she’s certain of that. Losing a parent. Having a parent be murdered isn’t something one gets over.

Solana knows this better than most, but Roman….he’s so composed, so together, so unbroken.

So unlike her.

His expression darkens as he answers in an eerie but calm voice. “I got my revenge, and I killed every single son of a bitch who played a role.” His delivery unsettles her a bit, but he seems to easily shift back into that almost patient tone she’s only ever heard him use….with her. “But, I’m not like you, Solana. You're innocent. My ledger bleeds red.” Solana doesn’t know what it looks or even sounds like for Roman to be uncomfortable, but his delivery in the next part definitely feels as such. “I don’t….feel things like you do. You feel everything. I feel nothing.”

She whispers. “I wish I was like that, that I didn’t feel.” Because it’s true. Because it’s how she initially started to self harm, because she wanted to feel something other than emotional pain. Even physical pain was better than the anguish that racked her every day, 24/7.

He’s quick to shut that down, to tell her the complete opposite. “No, you don’t. That would mean you’ve lost that innocence you have.”

That actually makes Solana smile, chuckle, but there’s not an ounce of humor as she shakes her head. “I–I lost my innocence a long time ago.” Stolen. It was stolen from her a long time ago is the more appropriate way to word it. Stomach a complete freaking mess, she does her best to power through her anxiety at what she’s about to tell him. “Roman…..I—”

“Ayo, Uce—”

“What!” Roman snaps, Solana jumping back away from him, hypervigilance back on high and alert. He briefly casts his gaze back in her direction, and she can almost swear she sees a speck of guilt. Like he’s apologetic for scaring her.

Jimmy, however, is unfazed by his cousin’s temper. He’s lived with it his whole life. Ain’t nothing new. “Rhodes men were on Bloodline territory—”

“What?” At that, Roman’s head snaps back in Jimmy’s direction. And Solana watches as any sign of Roman, patient and almost kind, is replaced almost instantly with that same cold, stoic demeanor that could strike fear in the heart of even the strongest man.

He stands up, hands on his hips as he moves a bit away from her. Solana also stands, fighting her urge to move closer to him.

Jimmy also presents with a seriousness she’s never seen in him, never even really knew he was capable of, to be honest. “We got three guys down. Another two critically injured.”

Roman curses, turning away, back toward Jimmy and her. He then asks, “you got a location on em’ yet?”

“Pearce should have it any minute now.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Roman nods, stepping away from Solana and in the direction of Jimmy just as Dulce walks over, clearly wanting Solana to pick her up. She must also pick up on the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

Dulce in her arms, Solana finds herself calling for Roman. “What—”

“Not now.” His dismissal is sharp and sudden. It shouldn’t hurt her feelings, because it’s obvious he’s in an entirely different zone now, but it does.

Solana sinks back into her shell of silence as Solo steps forward. “You want me—”

“Stay with Solana. She doesn't step foot outside this fucking house, you understand me?” Roman’s orders are indisputable, an almost sense of urgency in his tone. “Heighten security around the premises.”

Solana has so many questions. Just what is going on? Why is Roman so on edge all of a sudden? Who is Rhodes and why do they present such an imminent threat where Roman marches out the house, Jimmy on his heels without even a second glance at her.

It’s all so confusing.

“You need to get inside.” Solo’s equally stoic reminder, command maybe, pulls her from her thoughts. And Dulce suddenly growling at Solo definitely redirects her focus.

“Shhh. It’s just Solo,” she comforts, petting and trying to calm the puppy who quickly upgrades her growling to barking. This also confuses the mess out of Solana.

She’s not sure she’s ever seen Dulce both growl and bark at someone.

Wordlessly, she walks in the house, past Solo who she notices makes sure to lock the door behind them.

“Stay in your room," he instructs, and while she has more questions than anything, his austere tone is more than enough for her to not push back.

Dulce will just have to use the crate if she has to use the bathroom.

Without another word, Solo carries Dulce up the stairs and into her room where she lays the puppy in her bed and Solana climbs onto her.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she grabs her phone and opens up the latest group text thread she was messaging in.

Solana: Can I ask you guys something?

Their replies come in not even five minutes later.

Bayley: Of course!

Naomi: Anything.

Without allowing herself too much time to overthink it, Solana sends out the simple question.

Solana: Who or what is Rhodes?

Solana: Roman just rushed out of here after Jimmy said something about Rhodes men being on Bloodline territory. I’m not allowed to leave the mansion.

Just like the start of the conversation, the replies come in almost instantaneously.

Naomi: Fuck.

Naomi: Yes, stay put. Solo’s there with you, right?

Solana: Yes.

Solana’s anxiety is only growing. Naomi sounds just as intense as Jimmy and Roman were.

Her follow up text doesn’t do anything to help the confusion either.

Naomi: The less you know, the better. The guys will handle it.

Handle what, though? That’s what Solana really wants to know. What is the story here, and why did this Rhodes person or group have Roman so wired.

Just then, another notification comes through. From Bayley, but in their individual thread and not the group chat.

Solana switches over, reading her messages as they arrive almost back to back.

Bayley: Rhodes is a person, but…that’s a complicated story.

Bayley: And I'd feel bad telling someone else’s story, but what I can tell you is that Rhodes is Cody Rhodes, head to the Nightmare Factory, the Bloodline’s biggest opp. Tensions have been at an all time high for like two generations with countless bodies dropped on both sides. It’s always a bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity.

Solana is regretting even asking anything in the first place. Bloodbath when they’re in the same vicinity, the same vicinity Roman is heading for as she types. Her shoulders drop, anxiety starting to shift to a new target.

Concern for his safety.

Bayley: If you’re somehow ever in a situation where someone from the Nightmare territory is around, get the hell out of dodge. They won’t hesitate to kill you, especially with you being Roman’s wife.

Bayley: Or Rollins. Seth Rollins. Especially him. Guy is fuckin’ psycho.

Solana: Rollins?

Bayley: Roman, Seth, and Cody used to be friends a long time ago, like way long ago, and it just….it went bad. Really really fucking bad, and Cody and Roman have hated each other since. Like, I don’t know if hate is even a strong enough word for how much they can’t stand each other.

Solana: But why?

Bayley never replies.

________

Roman doesn’t step back into the house until almost 4am. He feels every bit exhausted as he probably looks, more physical than anything, some mental, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

Dealing with anything Nightmare related typically has that impact on him.

Solo meets him at the door, looking as on alert as he did when Roman first saw him at the ass crack of dawn this morning.

The first thing to leave Roman’s mouth isn’t intentional as much as it is unintentional. “How was she?”

Solo motions to the marble flooring leading to the spacious living room. “She’s waiting for you.”

Roman wasn’t expecting to hear that, and he’s certain it shows in his facial expression. “What? Why? Why is she still up?”

Solo shrugs. “You’ll have to ask her. She don’t talk to me.” Which is more Solo’s preference anyway. It’s his job to protect her, not be her fucking friend. “Everything good?” Roman nods but doesn’t say anything, still stuck on the fact that Solana is still up. “Imma head out.”

Roman’s response is as distant as his expression. He doesn’t care whether Solo stays or leaves. “Alright.”

Once his enforcer is out the house, Roman sure enough finds Solana sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, notebook in her lap as she writes away.

“Solana.”

She gasps, clearly taken by surprise, but when her head lifts and her eyes land on him, she untangles her legs and moves the journal to the side. Solana walks over to him, keeping a distance that makes sense for her. “You’re back….”

“What are you still doing up? Don’t you have work in a couple hours?”

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head, adding sheepishly, “I–I don’t sleep much anyway.” He knows this well. “I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Her eyes widen as she hones in on the nasty looking cut near the middle of his hairline. “You’re hurt….”

It’s really not until she says anything that Roman remembers the only “injury” he received from tonight’s bloodbath. “It’s fine.” He then redirects the focus to the main topic at hand. “Solana, you don’t have to wait up for me.”

She ignores him, actually ignores him and instead reaches up to feel the cut that’s maybe a bit more deeper than he realized because her feather light touch brings a bit of a sting.

“You need stitches.” It doesn’t sound like a suggestion, and he realizes as such following her next surprising action. She takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down on the stool as she pulls out the medical kit from under the sink.

Similar to the night of WarGames, she moves in between his open legs and starts tending to his cut, meticulously and carefully stitching him up.

She says not a word, and neither does he. Truthfully, it’s more an unconscious thing than conscious, like neither knows what or if to say something. Especially considering both are currently feeling more than what they know how to properly verbalize, or verbalize at all, really.

“There….” Roman can tell when she’s done. She gently runs her fingers over her diligent work, her eyes focused on the source of her apparent concern when all he wants is for her to look at him, for her eyes to lock on him. “I think I’m—” And just as Solana goes to move away, to step back and clean up, she’s stopped.

She’s stopped, because Roman reaches for her, keeping her near him.

His hand is initially on the small of her back, and Solana has the same experience from earlier. That initial tense feeling that quickly mellows into something almost calm, almost secure.

She’s not sure she’s ever been this close to him, not since the last time she tended to his injuries, not since their wedding day, since their wedding night.

But unlike that last almost traumatic time, she’s not pummeled with anxiety, not paralyzed with fear.

It’s just the calm.

His eyes never leave her, bouncing back and forth between her eyes and lips. He then says in a low voice that’s unlike anything she’s heard from him before. “Solana….”

There’s something different about the way he says her name, something more sincere, something almost….vulnerable.

Roman suddenly has both hands on her hips, holding her, just as her nervous hand moves to lay her palm against his chest.

His eyes instantly shut at her touch. Interactions with anything regarding Rhodes have always done something to Roman emotionally, but it’s always been something he can manage relatively well. Something simple and easy. There’s nothing simple and easy about whatever the fuck is coursing through him at having her so close to him, having her touch, soft and unsure as the expression in her eyes.

She doesn’t know what to make of his eyes closing nor does she have time to consider what to make of that because an image, a flashback of a different kind of touch, a much more painful, visceral touch shoots to the forefront of her mind.

And her chest starts tightening, that fear drawing back up.

“I–I can’t.” Because as much as some part of her, albeit big or small, likes this, likes being close to him, feels safe being this close to thim, another part, much larger and much stronger, can't handle being this close to him. “I’m sorry.” Eyes watering, she breaks away, Dulce is quickly behind her, Solana reaching to hold the puppy as she dashes up the stairs.

Roman sits unsure, confused, angry. He stands up, pacing across the floor, hands up and on the side of his head before his fist slams against the refrigerator door. He curses, but not from the blow. That shit doesn’t hurt.

His reaction and frustration is directed solely toward the fact that he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s feeling right now.

The same thing Solana is struggling with as she sits on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, silently crying into her thighs.

Both of them wondering the same exact thing:

What the hell just happened?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!poc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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guiltyasdave · 6 months ago

Text

heaven can't help me now

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You're afraid Dave might not like you as much as you like him. ...Meanwhile, Dave is afraid of the same thing. (They're idiots okay)

word count: 6.5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, phone sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, biting, cream pie, use of panties as a gag, orgasm denial, pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, throwing around these ideas with you is so fun, i love you <3

taylor swift said “what if he’s written mine on my upper thigh” and i took that personally

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading! <3 (and listening to me freak out about this on a daily basis)

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Dave regrets the message as soon as the small text underneath it switches from delivered to read.

He knows that he’s been cruel to you, he could see the confusion and hurt written all over your face when he drove you home. But he has to be the responsible one, the adult in this situation. The one who’s able to hold back. Nothing should have happened between you and him, not once, let alone twice. He shouldn’t indulge in this, shouldn’t give you hope.

He has always looked down on men who were with women much younger than them. Midlife crisis. Not able to have a relationship with someone on the same maturity level.

That’s not who he is. He understands that the reason why you’re attracted to him lies at least partially in your relationship with your father, and he won’t take advantage of that. It’s not who he is and it’s not what you deserve.

You’re gonna go back to college in a few weeks and he can pretend that none of this ever happened. You’re gonna meet a nice boy your age, become a lawyer, get married and live your life the way you’re supposed to. Eventually, the memory of you writhing underneath him, your voice so sweet and needy in your desperation, surely won’t be as vivid as it is right now.

But then he found your panties between the cushions of his couch, still damp with your arousal, still smelling of you. His mind started wandering, conjuring images that he should be ashamed of. The things he could do to you, the things he could show you.

It’s like he’s lost in a haze, stroking his throbbing cock to fantasies of you, all the depraved shit that some respectful fellow student would never do, but that he knows you crave. He hears your whimpers so clearly in his head, pictures your face, so pretty begging him for things only he knows how to give you, until he releases himself all over the lacy bit of fabric that’s clutched between his fingers.

But now you’re not answering, and shame is swirling in his stomach, surely now he’s overstepped, why did he even think–

His racing thoughts are interrupted by the quiet ping of his phone and a message from you. Just a photo, no text.

His eyes widen, taking in the image. He can’t see your face, only the shape of your tits, already so familiar to him, covered in dark, lacy fabric. Exactly the same color, exactly the same pattern as the fabric that he soiled and photographed to send to you.

You put on the matching bra for him, he realizes. Which is probably why it took you longer than usual to answer, you had to get into the lingerie and put yourself all prettily on display for him. He drinks in the shape of you, the skin that he knows would feel so soft underneath his touch, the swell of your breasts, the nipples hidden behind lace, how they would harden for him, how you would squirm if he–

Desire starts coursing through him again, and he feels like a teenager, reduced to this by just a photo. His thumb finds your name on the display almost instinctively.

“Fuck, baby.”

The rasp of his voice hits your ear as soon as you accept the call. Your heart had been hammering away inside your chest since you hit send on the photo.

“You like it?”

You hate how needy you sound, how desperate for his approval. David exhales sharply and you wish you were with him again.

“Trust me, I like it very much.”

Your cheeks heat at his tone. He blows all other thoughts out of your head. You forget how rejected you felt, how you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen again. It doesn’t matter, not when he talks to you like this. You whisper a thank you and he chuckles.

“Are you in bed, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, considering the words resting on the top of your tongue. Deciding to take the leap. “Wish you were here too.”

You don’t need to see his face to know how he purses his lips, how he slowly curls them into a smirk.

“Mhm? What would you like me to do if I was?”

Your face burns hotter.

“I– Touch me, use your fingers to–”

He groans, a rich, deep sound in your ear. You’re still sore, but your fingertips ghost down your body anyway, chasing the need that’s building up between your legs again. You gasp when they find your clit, already swollen and covered in your slick.

“Are you touching yourself right now?”

“Yes, please David, I need–”

“Don’t worry, baby. I got you.”

He keeps talking to you, low murmurs in your ear, directing your fingers over your body. He doesn’t let up until you’ve come twice, until he’s reduced you to a whimpering mess without even being there.

He doesn’t apologize for earlier, not directly at least. You didn’t expect him to. In a twisted way, that you’re not sure anyone but the two of you would understand, this was his apology.

You’re not sure what changed his mind, but he doesn’t go back to his distant self afterwards. Maybe he’s come to the same realization as you. That neither of you is going to be able to stay away.

He’s on your mind constantly, you catch yourself checking your phone for new messages way too often and smiling down at the screen whenever he’s texting you. You know that you shouldn’t act like this, shouldn’t give him that much power in your mind. But it feels so good, to be seen, to be wanted like that.

You’re both busy; he’s working on an important case and you’re in desperate need to catch up on job applications and college work, which you’ve neglected over the past few days, as your father is quick to remind you.

But you keep exchanging messages, keep sharing hushed whispers at night. It never lets up, the thrill of his voice guiding your fingers and hearing the sounds that he makes when he’s putting his hands on himself. Knowing that it’s you, the thought of you that elicits them.

You’re having dinner with your father, who is home earlier than most days, the brightly lit dining room reflecting off the massive windows, when the bubble bursts.

“You remember Dave, right? From the country club?”

You freeze, your fork hovering in the air over your plate. He knows, your mind screams. No, there’s no way he would know.

You fight hard to appear nonchalant, to not let your face betray you. You nod, humming questioningly in a way that you hope sounds innocent enough.

“I told you how he got divorced recently, didn’t I? It’s been hard on him, poor fella…”

Your dad sighs and shakes his head. You furrow your brow, at a complete loss where this conversation might be going.

“Well, guess who got him a date?! Cheryl from the office is single and I realized, she’s perfect for him! An amazing match. He never goes out, always been a bit of a loner, I guess… But I set them up and they went out last night! Great, huh?”

Your mind is running a mile a minute. You force a weak smile, lifting your head to meet your father’s proud grin.

“Y-yeah, dad. Great,” you echo. You feel hollow.

He leans back in his chair, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to play matchmaker for you too, eventually, with the way things are going, hm?”

Under different conditions, the snide remark about your dating life and how he’s never been even remotely happy with any guy you had dared to bring home, would sting a lot more. Right now though, you’re reeling from the fact that David went out with another woman last night.

“Sure,” you whisper. “May I please be excused?”

You don’t wait for an answer, already pushing back from the table and rushing up the stairs. Back in your room, you grab your phone, scrolling through your past messages. You didn’t hear from him last night, which you hadn’t found weird at the time, but it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now.

Maybe he finally realized that someone his age would be much better suited for him. A real woman, not some little girl who still goes to school, calls him drunk in the middle of the night and can’t stand up against her father. Of course that’s not what he wants.

You pace in your room, thoughts running through your head. Do you confront him? You never talked about it, never discussed exclusivity, but still… You don’t want anyone else and you had thought that he wouldn’t either.

After tossing and turning in your bed for hours, you decide not to ask David about it, to not contact him at all. Maybe that’s for the best. Save him the trouble of letting you down. It’s like a weight pulling under, the uncertainty and fear of this being it tying itself into a tight knot in your stomach. But you’ve been desperate enough for him already, you try to reason, you need to stop embarrassing yourself by running after him.

He texts you the next day, sounding just the same way he always does. You can’t bring yourself to not reply to him at all, but it’s clipped, one-sentence answers, which he picks up on soon enough. His name lights up your phone as you’re hunched over your desk in your bedroom, pondering over an essay that you’re supposed to write over the break.

“Hello?”

“Sweetheart.” The deep smoothness of his voice travels from the speaker right under your skin, holding you under his spell the way he always does. “Is something wrong?”

You bite your lip, muttering a no in reply. You sound like a petulant teenager, everything that you don’t want him to see you as.

“Now why do I not believe that?”

You hear his smile in the way he sounds. You want to see him so badly, want to be on the receiving end of that smile. You wonder if Cheryl from the office got to see it last night too. If he’s given her all the parts of him that he’s given you.

“Dunno.” There’s a sting in your voice, not unlike the sting that you feel piercing through your heart at the thought of him with someone else.

Dave frowns at the way you sound. You’re never this short with him, never seemed so sad since that night you called him drunk and he turned you down. And even then, it was different, not dismissive the way you are now.

His anxious mind immediately provides him with a variety of explanations. Maybe you’ve finally come to your senses and realized that you don’t want him. That you don’t want a man twice your age, that him wanting you actually makes him a fucking creep, that he isn’t as great as you’ve built him up to be in your head. Maybe you’ve realized that what you’re doing is wrong. He wouldn’t blame you for it. One of you should be reasonable and end things for good. He has been telling himself that.

But you sound so upset that worry settles in his gut. He feels that pull towards you again, only that it’s not explicitly sexual this time. He just really needs to see you, to touch you, to make sure that you’re okay.

The invitation for you to come over leaves his lips without thinking about it, just the overwhelming need to have you close. You pause, so long that he gets even more uneasy, but eventually you agree.

Dave knows that something is wrong as soon as he opens the door. You look smaller, slightly curling in on yourself. You don’t meet his gaze, eyes downturned and without the spark in them that he sees in his mind when he thinks about you. He pulls you into a hug, one that you barely return.

His bedroom door is once again firmly closed, and he’s directing you towards his couch again. Still the last invisible line, the one that he tells himself will keep him from letting you in all the way. Your eyes linger there for a moment, he can almost see the wheels turning in your head. You deflate even more.

He hates to see you like this. Fights the urge to wrap you in his arms, satisfy his hunger for your lips and fuck you until every trace of that sadness written over your face is erased.

The door that you presume leads to his bedroom is closed, just like the last time you were here. You wonder if he opened it for Cheryl, if she got to see a part of him that you didn’t. Then again, he probably treated her like a lady. Wined and dined her properly, maybe a chaste kiss to say good night. Because she’s someone who’s right for him, someone worth putting the effort in. Not the quick fuck that you had been.

He probably invited you over to tell you in person that he really can’t see you anymore. That he means it this time. You suppose that in his mind, that’s the decent thing to do. You think that you would have rather had him text you about it. That way you wouldn’t have to pretend, wouldn’t have to tell him to his face that it’s fine, that you understand, don’t worry.

Still, he called and you came running. Like a fucking idiot.

You sit down on the edge of his couch, decidedly keeping the images of the last time you were here buried in your memories. “Do you want something to drink?” You shake your head no and he sits down beside you. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the simmering need that you feel for him, even now. Please just get it over with.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.” You’re not looking at him, keeping your eyes on your hands, your fingers gripping each other tightly, tense like the rest of your body.

“Do all what?”

You bite your lip, attempting to swallow down the anger at the fact that he’s gonna make you the one to say it, but it’s no use. Your eyes fly up to meet his.

“Make me come here, to talk to me in person, or whatever it is you think you’re doing. You– you could’ve just texted me.”

He furrows his brow, a hint of defensiveness in his warm brown eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

You scoff. “My dad told me. About your date.” You’re never like this, your voice biting and your eyes glaring. You’re never like this and you have no right to be like this now, getting worked up over the end of something that never even was, not really. “I’m sure she’s nice. A great match, he said, so you’re gonna tell me to fuck off. It’s okay, I understand.”

Your voice breaks on the last word. A lump is building in your throat and your eyes burn with unshed tears. This can’t be happening. It’s bad enough that you feel this much about it, but it’s indefinitely worse to have him know it.

David’s expression softens. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not–” He slips one hand in between yours, gently pries your fingers away from each other. “You thought that’s why I asked you to come over here?”

You shrug, once again unable to meet his gaze.

“The date was shit. I wouldn’t even have gone if Jim hadn’t kept bugging me about it.”

Inhaling deeply, you slowly trail your eyes up to his face again.

“Really?”

He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. His lips press against your forehead.

“Promise.” He sighs. “You sounded so upset, that’s why I asked you to come–”

You sniffle, suddenly feeling stupid about the whole scene you made. He holds you a little longer, and you revel in his scent that’s engulfing you, in the warmth and solidness of his body. When he finally pulls away, his hand finds your chin and lifts it until you’re looking straight at him. A hint of amusement is glinting in his eyes.

“Were you jealous, baby?”

You’re well aware that he can see right through you, but shake your head anyway. He allows himself a grin.

“What then? Worried that you’ll find no one else to fuck you like I do?”

Heat is burning in your cheeks, but you can’t help but laugh. He’s not wrong, at least partially.

Your lips curling up and the soft laugh tumbling out of you soothes him, eases the sting in his chest. The severity of your reaction to the idea of him dumping you for another woman took him off guard. He never wants to see that kind of hurt written over your face ever again.

He should have told you, he realizes that now. He knew nothing would come out of meeting with that woman that Jim had been boasting about all week, but what was he supposed to say? No need pal, I already got everything I need fucking your daughter?

He doesn’t know when you began feeling like everything he needed. He knows that you shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t check his phone as often as he does, shouldn’t spend his days fantasizing about you, shouldn’t imagine you by his side almost constantly.

But how can he not, when you’re looking at him like this, your eyes so wide, so filled with trust. Always ready, always desperate to give him everything of you. Like a dream come true that he didn’t know he had.

“Maybe,” you admit, teasingly but still so, so soft. Everything about you is so fucking soft. His to touch, his to defile. Because, inexplicably, you fucking let him.

He needs to reassure you that he’s worthy of that trust. He leans in closer, feels your breath ghosting over his face as his nose nudges against yours. He pauses, searches your expression for a moment. You dip your chin down in a tiny nod and he’s onto you, chases your mouth with his. He pours all the emotion that he doesn’t understand, can’t begin to name, into the kiss. How much he misses you, how often you are on his mind. How he doesn’t want to hurt you, wants to do right by you, but has no clue how.

Your lips move against his with more fervor, a mess of tongues and teeth clashing against one another. Your whimpers drip into his mouth, leaving him drunk off you. Heat spreads through him, like a fire that’s going to consume you both. He thinks that he wants it to.

He trails kisses down your throat, sucks at the skin, relishes in the shivers that it sends through your body. You grasp at his shirt, trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons, but he stops you. Nipping at your collarbone, he looks up at you, takes in your wide blown pupils, the hunger in your eyes.

Maybe this is all he can give you, but he’s going to do that right. He’s going to give you what he can, as long as you let him.

He hooks his fingers under the neckline of your dress, pulls it down a little, inhales the sweet scent of your perfume. Every new inch of your skin that he reveals fills him with the need to worship it.

“Will you let me make it up to you, sweetheart?” He mouths at your skin again, his eyes still trained on your face. “Let me make you feel good?”

You nod eagerly, a breathy please, David falling from your lips. He runs his hands up your thighs, marvels at the almost feverish warmth of your skin, before he lifts your dress and helps you pull it over your head.

Your underwear is white this time, a picture of innocence that only he knows is an illusion. His arousal swells at the thought, his cock pushing against the confines of his pants.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this,” he admits, his hands trailing over your waist, tightening his grip momentarily and enjoys watching you squirm in response. “I think about you all the time.”

Your gaze flickers for a moment, and he realizes what he just said. It’s not a lie, but also not a truth that he intended for you to know. You bite your lip, expression turning thoughtful for a moment. Then a small smile spreads over your face.

“M–me too,” you whisper, a bit shy, like you’re still half-expecting him to take it back, but putting your trust in him anyway.

He has to kiss you again, remove all remaining doubts about how much he wants you from your mind. Licking into your mouth, he starts toying with the cups of your bra, pulling them down just so that his fingertips can graze over your nipples. You press your body into his touch, your back arching off the cushions, and he undoes the clasp, lets the fabric fall away from your body.

He runs his fingers over your flesh, teases the hardening buds, loves the way you keen into his mouth in response. Palming your tits roughly, he pulls away a little to look at them. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever tire of the sight of his hands on you.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “Like you were made for me.” It stings only a little right in this moment, while he’s touching you, to know that you are not. He can keep pretending, for a while. It’s worth it, seeing how you light up at the praise, how you drink in his every word, sinking deeper into his touch. His, his, his.

David peels your panties off of you, the image of the white lace against his hand one that you know will burn itself into your memory. His eyes linger on the fabric, a grin slowly growing on his face. Arousal tingles at your spine at the sight. You’re entirely bare now while he hasn’t removed one item of clothing. The obvious power dynamic leaves you feeling vulnerable, you and your body at his mercy, but you trust him. To treat you the way you want, need to be treated, to push you to your limits and to still keep you safe.

The weight of his hands lands on your thighs, slowly pushing them apart, making room for his body between them. You’re acutely aware of how wet you are, and how clearly he can see it right now, with your folds all spread out right in front of him. You feel your slick coating your inner thighs, feel his breath ghosting against it.

He groans at the sight and sinks to his knees, almost at eye level with your pussy. The realization of what he’s about to do sinks in as he leans forward and places a gentle kiss against your clit that has you trembling. But still–

“Y–you don’t have to do that,” you stutter, suddenly feeling a different kind of vulnerable. A shame that you can’t explain starts welling up inside of you.

He pulls back, sitting back on his haunches and looking up at you. His hands gently push your thighs back together, leaving you less exposed.

“Do you not want me to?”

You bite your lip, fighting not to avoid his gaze. “I don’t know. I– I’ve never–” Your voice trails off. A fire is burning in his eyes, intimidating you.

“No one’s ever eaten you out?” He sounds incredulous.

You shake your head, shoulders moving up in a shrug, a wave of embarrassment growing in you. “Men don’t really… like to. In my experience.”

He sighs and leans forward, presses a soft kiss to your left knee. “Most men are idiots.” It’s mumbled into your skin, lips moving against it. His fingertips inch up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You deserve to feel good, baby.” His voice sinks into your skin, low and raspy, and you have no choice but to believe it. “Will you let me make you feel good?” he asks again.

His dark eyes are on you, his fingers still tracing shapes over your skin. So close to where you want him. You’d let him do anything.

“Please, David,” you whisper, for the second time.

He pries your legs back open, a low growl in his throat as you’re spread out for him. Then he dives in, licking and sucking at your clit, gently at first, but quickly getting more intense, until stars start to burst behind your eyelids and you’re gasping his name. It’s overwhelming, unlike anything that you’ve ever experienced before.

He lets up momentarily, licking through your slit, drinking up your arousal that’s dripping out of you and groaning at the taste of you. His mouth moves to your inner thighs, kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh. He bites down suddenly, sinking his teeth into your skin and you scream his name at the unexpected burst of pain that transforms into pleasure almost instantly.

He does it again, and again, leaving his marks on your body. It hurts just right, the sensation of him leaving his trace on you, marking you as his. You clench around nothing, desperate to feel him on your clit again, to take you the final bit to the top.

As if he was reading your mind, he lets up his ministrations on your thighs and kisses his way to the spot where you need him so desperately. Your fingers sink into his hair, tugging at the roots, and he looks up at you, smug pride glinting in his eyes. He licks through your folds, nudges at your entrance with his tongue, before his lips find your clit again, closing around the sensitive nub.

You come within seconds, the waves of your arousal crashing over you so suddenly that it takes your breath away. His groans vibrate against your skin as he laps at you, drinking you down. You feel like you’re in heaven.

David gives you time to calm down, gently mouths at your heated skin, licks over the spots where you feel the indents of his teeth, before he kisses his way up your body. You taste yourself on his lips when they connect with yours. It’s messy, and filthy, and you can’t get enough of it.

You whimper when he pulls back and his eyes find yours again, his almost black, the pupils blown wide. He rises to his feet and looks down to where you’re spread out, thighs parted, on full display for him as he towers over you. He leans down, a finger tapping against your mouth.

“Open.”

Your lips part immediately, giving him all the access he wants. He groans at your obedience, trails his knuckles over your cheek for a moment, before raising his hand to your eyes. He’s holding your panties again.

“These are so pretty. Would be a shame to just leave them lying around, don’t you think?”

You let out a sound, something akin to agreement. His grin widens.

“Good girl.”

His fingers push the fabric into your mouth, your spit soaking the material, mixing with the arousal that’s already sticking to it. You moan at the taste, your eyelids fluttering shut.

His palm connects with your cheek in a light slap. Not hard enough to sting, but your eyes fly back open at the sensation. You grind down onto the cushions, desperate for friction as another wave of need floods you.

“Eyes on me, remember?”

You try voicing a sorry, but it comes out garbled and he chuckles. Soothing his fingers over the spot he just slapped.

“There’s no need for you to talk. Just be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?”

Your body is buzzing, but your mind is blissfully empty. Ready to give yourself over to him, to submit to whatever he asks. It feels so good, so easily being able to please for once in your life. To follow rules and be praised for it. Simple. Safe.

He wraps the lace around your head and ties it together in the back, effectively gagging you, leaving your mouth opened, the fabric stretching against the corners. Your desire is coursing through your body with so much force that it’s almost painful.

He kisses you over the gag, pressing his lips against yours. One of his hands wraps around your throat, applying a hint of pressure. Your hips chase him, your arousal close to unbearable. He chuckles against your mouth before he pulls back.

“Such a good girl.”

He teases you endlessly. Drinks in the sight of you writhing under him as his fingers are back on your nipples, tugging them harshly and eliciting soft mewls from you. You look beautiful in the golden light of the evening sun that’s falling through his windows, almost angelic.

An angel that he wrecked, already so fucked out when he finally sheds his own clothes and starts sliding his cock through your folds. He coats himself with the slick of your desire, taps his head against your clit, nudges at your entrance again and again without sliding inside.

Your whimpering cries are music to his ears, your fingernails digging into his shoulders sting just right. You’re pleading with him through the makeshift gag, your words all muffled, and he revels in the desperation in your eyes. Loves the sight of it.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” he coos, slides over your clit again. “Tell me.”

You’re trying, trying so hard to get out real words, and he chuckles at your efforts. Deciding to grant you a little mercy, he pushes the head of his weeping cock into you. He throbs at the feeling of it, of how your slick pissy tries pulling him in deeper. You’re whining at the stretch, your hands desperately grabbing at him, before he pulls back again.

Your eyes are swimming with tears, silently pleading with him. It’s like a rush. You’re always such a good, polite and well-behaved girl, so sweet, and here you are, completely bare and spread out underneath him, crying to get fucked. By him. He’s a bad man, he knows it. He doesn’t care, not when it feels like this.

He smirks down at you. “Say please.”

It’s obvious that you’re trying, your tongue struggling against the soaked fabric in your mouth. He lines himself up once more, looks at your face, at the desperate hope written out in your eyes. Then he slams into you. You scream, gripping his shoulders so tightly that he thinks you’ve drawn blood. He couldn’t care less.

Now that he feels your tight walls all around his cock, engulfing him with pulsing heat, it’s impossible to tease you any longer. He pulls back, just to sink deep into you, again and again. You cry out at every thrust, every time that he hits that spot deep inside of you that leaves you such a trembling mess.

He can tell when you’re starting to tighten around him, your cries getting higher, and he knows that you’re close. Slowing down, he leans his head down to yours, his thrusts becoming more shallow.

“Hold it,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting against the soft shell of your ear. A whine escapes from your throat, fresh tears falling from your eyes, your whole body trembling underneath him, your cunt squeezing him deliciously tight. He’s breathless, high on the control you’re giving him, on your level of obedience, doing every single thing that he asks from you.

Letting you calm down a little, he busies himself with kissing every inch of your skin that he can reach. Almost bursting with arousal himself, he knows that he’s not gonna be able to keep this up much longer.

When he speeds up again, he sets a harsh rhythm, jostling your body with every thrust, mesmerized by the way your tits bounce with the movement. Your walls start tightening around him again, pulling him in. He can’t hold back anymore.

“I’m gonna come. Gonna leave you just as messy as those little panties of yours. ‘S that what you want?”

You nod eagerly, more unintelligible pleads stumbling through the gag.

“Fuck, come here–“ His fingers scramble, ripping the fabric out of your mouth to kiss you properly, to feel your tongue against his.

His hips move at rapid speed, pumping into you and chasing both your orgasms. He’s breathless, high on the feeling of your wet cunt squeezing him so tight. You come with a cry, muffled by his mouth on yours, and the sensation of you clenching around him sends him over the edge as well. He buries himself deep inside of you, spilling his cum to leave you just as messy as he promised you.

“Fucking perfect, like you were made for me, only want you sweetheart…” He’s rambling, barely aware of what he's saying, still lost in the bliss of his orgasm. The words only register when an unreadable expression flies over your face in reaction. Shit. He goes through things to say, ways to somehow explain, though he couldn’t even explain the words to himself.

His mind quiets when you smile shyly and burrow your face in his neck. He moves the both of you until you’re a tangle of intertwined limbs, resting on his cushions, watching as the light slowly fades outside. You’re warm in his arms, your breath coming softly, fanning against his skin. It feels too right to be wrong, he decides silently.

The peaceful silence between you breaks with a chime from his phone, a message from your father.

“Looks like I’m invited to have dinner at yours,” he says, turning the screen towards you.

“Fuck,” you mutter, grabbing for your own phone to check the time. “I should get going.”

He helps you get dressed, until your still soaked panties end up in his hands again. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the hem of your skirt, on the bare thighs beneath them. You take a step closer, your hand stretched out for them, but he pulls them away, sliding them into his pocket.

A smirk grazes your features as you take another step closer. “Again? Really?”

He shrugs, takes your hand to pull you into him. Your responding giggle is a sound that he’ll never get tired of. He sneaks a hand under your dress, palms your bare ass and presses your body against his.

“Be a good girl and stay like this, for dinner,” he murmurs against your lips, before he kisses you once more.

A grin slowly grows on your face as you realize what he’s saying.

“Deal,” you agree, your eyes glinting.

You’re sitting down next to him, sliding into the chair beside him with the most innocent, sweetest smile to both your father and him. You’re still wearing the dress that you left his place in, the one that, if you’ve been good, you’re bare underneath.

He reaches for you almost instantly, hidden under the tabletop, the pull towards your skin too strong to resist. You tense up for a moment, throwing him a quick glance, before you relax into his touch. He draws circles, featherlight on your skin, and you part your thighs a little more, allowing him to slide further between them.

Focussing on the conversation with your father isn’t easy, not when you’re right here beside him, so pliant under his touch.

“So, how was it with Cheryl?” your father asks, far too invested in the whole thing for Dave’s liking. You’re looking down at your plate, your shoulders slumped forward.

He shrugs, his hand traveling upwards, beneath the hem of your skirt, pulling your thighs apart a little more. “She’s nice, but– Not the right fit for me, I think.”

The memory of meeting the woman flashes through his mind. “You must be Dave,” accompanied by a shake of his hand. All wrong, so different from the way it sounds when David falls from your lips. He had wanted to leave right then and there. His grip on you tightens at the memory.

“Well that’s a shame,” Jim sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I really thought you two were a good match.”

Dave grunts noncommittally, taking another bite of his food.

“This one,” your father continues, his eyes falling to you, “has yet to find a good match as well. Not the best choices so far.” He chuckles, either blind or indifferent to the way you seem to shrink in your chair. You mumble something about focussing on school and your career right now, your voice so small that it breaks Dave’s heart.

“Boys your age are idiots anyway,” he says, grinning at how your eyes widen, his emphasis on your age in no way lost on you. “Wouldn’t want to have them distracting you, right?”

You nod silently, but fire burns in your eyes when his hand reaches so high that his fingers swirl through the slick that’s covering your upper thighs. Dave grits his teeth, fighting the urge to kiss you right here and now, consequences be damned.

It’s wrong, it’s so so wrong, but it’s like he’s lost in a haze, high on the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. On the way your thighs fall open so willingly for him, always such a good and obedient girl. On the way you both know that you’re bare underneath your skirt, dripping with the filthy proof of what you did together. On the way he’s staked his claim all over your inner thighs, to the point that he’s certain the indents of his teeth are still pressed into your flesh. All while your father has no idea what’s happening right in front of him.

The secret rebellion of it thrills you, he understands that now. He wonders if that’s what he is to you, an opportunity to do something so deliciously forbidden that you couldn’t resist. He’ll gladly be that for you. The idea to be the person who brought this out in you thrills him too.

He somehow makes it through the evening. Not a single conversation topic has found its way into his memories. All he can think about, all that he knows he will remember is the feeling of you under his tight grip. All his.

You had excused yourself when your father brought out the whiskey, squeezed his hand under the table before you stood up, carefully smoothing out your skirt. Call me, you had mouthed, turning back to look at him before exiting the room.

He knows that he will.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #fic: wildest dreams #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedrostories

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thewritingrowlet · 5 months ago

Text

The Outing Trip pt. 2, ft. tripleS Xinyu and Dahyun

tags: cheating, cum-in-mouth, creampie, ass play, (a bit) rough

word count: ~10k words

author's note: I was 3k words deep into this shit when I realized that I didn't have any picture of them together so here's their pictures from the GND showcase. In terms of plot, I initially wanted Dahyun to have a bigger role but then I decided that I'd give her the spotlight in a future part instead.

Anyway, thanks always for reading <3

p.s. Wolfie if you see this again; send me another idea on June 12th (oddly specific, I know). Thanks in advance. <3

[🐈‍⬛| 08:02]

Oppa

Don’t forget

We have a meeting with everyone today at 1545

Don’t forget to bring Xinyu with you

“Xinyu-yah”, you call out to Xinyu, who’s busy getting dressed in the bedroom, “Nakyoung just reminded me of today’s meeting”. Xinyu gets out from the bedroom after she’s done changing, “yeah, she just texted me as well. You don’t have classes today, do you, oppa?”. You get up from the sofa and shake your head, “I’ll take you to campus, baby. I’ll refuel the car after dropping you off”. She shoves you in the chest and you’re sat back down on the sofa, “it’s like 8, let’s chill for now”. Xinyu then sits on your lap and tucks her head against your neck, “I always like how you make me feel small even though I’m taller than most people”. You chuckle and peck the top of her head, “you can thank my dad for his genes, precious”. She squeals at the pet name, “aww, that’s a new one, isn’t it?”. “Not really”, you say, “I said it last Monday when I was lulling you to nap—remember when you were resting your head on my lap? You probably already drifted away to dreamland when I said that, though”. “Oppa, I want to take a little nap like this until it’s time to leave, okay?”, Xinyu says as she steals a peck on the neck from you.

After a few minutes of seated cuddling/napping, it’s now 10 minutes before Xinyu needs to leave for class. You want to make sure that she’s in the correct state of mind before you take her to campus, so you attempt to wake the napping fox. “Honey”, you say as you give her some taps on the back, “we need to leave soon”. She looks around her as she gathers her consciousness, “huh? Already?”. “Yes, already. Now let’s wake up and get ready, okay?”, you pepper her face with kisses to help her wake up. She holds your head to make you stop, “give me a reason why I should go to class and give up the chance to be spoiled by my boyfriend all day long—it better be a very good and rational one, oppa”. You crank the gears in your head to come up with an answer for your clingy sweetheart, but you only manage to come up with the most dull and basic answer of all time: “your education is important, love—what would people say when they hear that the vice president refuses to go to class because she wants to stay at home with her boyfriend?”. She huffs in false annoyance, “I don’t care about what people say, oppa. The world is ours and they’re merely leasing in it”. “C’mon, let’s not say such thing, love. I’ll carry you to the car, okay?”, you lift her by her thighs and stand up from the sofa.

You’re now in the car, on your way to campus to drop Xinyu off before getting fuel for your car. You notice that she hasn’t made any sound since you two left the parking lot, so you look at her and see that she’s asleep again. You suspect that she’s not feeling too well and not in the best mood, so you decide to make a quick detour to get some ice cream for her—thankfully she doesn’t wake up when you’re in the drive-thru because that’ll spoil the surprise.

“Cutie pie”, you softly tap Xinyu in the arm, “we’re here”. “I’m not feeling too well, oppa. I’m having a period right now and it’s not pleasant”, she says with a weak voice. The tone and manner of her speech makes your heart ache because Xinyu is never one to act like this. “Honey, look at me, please”, you grab a cup of ice cream and show it to her, “I have some ice cream for you. I hope this helps”. She smiles despite the discomfort and takes the ice cream from your hand, “thank you so much, oppa. Your kindness keeps reminding me of why I fell in love with you”. You pull her to you and peck her lips, “I love you, baby. Please hang on until the end of the day, okay?”. She says her farewell before getting out of the car with ice cream in hand, and you wait until she disappears from your sight before driving away.

Xinyu greets you in front of the classroom where the meeting is taking place but instead of leading you in, she pulls you around the corner instead. She pulls you into her embrace and hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for the ice cream, oppa. I’m so sorry for being annoying all the time”, she says. You peck the top of her head in response; “you’re not annoying, baby. How can I say that you’re annoying when I don’t know exactly what you were going through? It’s not fair for you”. She lets go of the hug and wipes her glassy eyes; “you’re gonna make me cry if we keep hugging. Thank you, oppa, seriously”. You take her hand and walk into the classroom with her to get ready for the meeting.

“Hey, look who’s here with me”, Nakyoung says when she sees you two enter—Yooyeon is sitting on her left while Dahyun and Chaeyeon are on her right. “Unnie, hi”, Xinyu waves at her. “Hey, guys”, Yooyeon replies with small waves of her own. “Are you going to be with us for the meeting, Yooyeon-ah?”, you ask her. “I was about to ask if I can, actually. Nakyoung-ie told me to ask for your permission”, she says. You shrug, “I don’t mind having a spectator. We’re getting food after as well so it’s easier like this”. You walk to the four girls and give Dahyun and Chaeyeon a fist bump, “welcome to the council, you two. Run for presidency when you can, okay?”. “Thank you, oppa. We won’t disappoint”, Dahyun says.

Nakyoung told you a few days ago that she wanted to run this meeting, so you take a seat among the 30-something person crowd and let the spokesperson cook. “Alright everyone”, Nakyoung starts as she stands in front of the class, “I’ll be the one speaking today, since Jisung-oppa is having a sore throat today. Let’s get started, shall we?”. Xinyu leans over and whispers to you, “your throat is sore, oppa? Must’ve been the ice cream”. You chuckle and shake your head, “no, it’s not; she made that up”.

Nakyoung kicks off the meeting by explaining the when and where of the trip; 3 days 2 night from September 29th until October 1st on the island across the strait. She then continues by explaining the method of transportation to get there, which is by bus, which will get on a ferry to cross the water before getting off and continuing the ride until you arrive at the resort. Lastly, she announces that each room will be occupied by 3 people and that everyone is allowed to choose who they want to share the room with, as long as they’re of the same gender. She skips the “who” part of the 5W1H because it’s obvious already; who else is participating if not the members and leaders of the council? Nakyoung takes a sip of water and catches her breath before answering a bunch of questions from people in the room. After answering all of them, she sees that no one else raises a hand, so she ends the meeting and tells them to send her an email should they have questions.

Only the 6 of you remain the classroom after everyone else has scattered to continue their day. “Good job, Nakyoung-ah. You did well”, you praise her. She pulls Xinyu to her feet and hugs her, “aaaah, I’m so tireeeed. Is this how it’s always like for you, oppa?”. You chuckle as you get up from your seat, “kind of. You get used to it, though”. Yooyeon chimes in and tells her perspective, “I haven’t got used to it even though we’ve had a bunch of meetings already. Being in the center of attention overwhelms me”. You offer a hand for Dahyun and Chaeyeon to help them up. “Let’s go get dinner, girls. It’s on me, just like usual”, you say as you lead them to the door.

“Does anyone have any idea where we should go?”, you ask the crowd in your car. “Dahyun-ie’s restaurant! I want burgers, oppaaaa”, Nakyoung raises her hand and exclaims. “Any objections?”, you ask once again but get no answer. “Alright, Dahyun-ie’s restaurant it is”, you say. You glance at the rearview mirror and see that Dahyun is covering her cheeks, presumably to hide her blush. You look forwards again and keep driving until you get to your destination.

“Alright, girls; we’re here”, you look around the car and see that everyone was asleep—no wonder the ride was super quiet. Everyone but Xinyu gradually wakes up after hearing your announcement, as they reach for their stuff and slowly get out of the car. You get out of the car and sprint to the other side to help Xinyu get out. “Please carry me, oppa”, she says. You’re concerned if maybe she’s in pain, “are you okay, baby? Does your body ache?”. “I’m okay, just feeling extra clingy today”, she says with a teasing smile. You repay her smile with one of sweetness before giving her a piggyback ride to the restaurant.

“Mom, I’m bringing my friends again!”, Dahyun greets her mom as your group enters the restaurant. “Omo! Welcome back, children”, Mrs. Seo waves to you and your friends, “what’s wrong with the miss on your back, Jisung-ah?”. “She’s having a period so she’s not feeling so well right now. Xinyu-yah, say hi to Mrs. Seo”, Xinyu waves cutely after hearing your words. Mrs. Seo puts her hands on her chest, “and you’re carrying her like that? Oh, how cute and nice you are”. You deflect her words and line up in front of the cashier with the girls to order. After everyone has finished ordering, you pay for everything (without forgetting the extra) and head to your group’s favorite spot near the wall.

Everyone but Xinyu has now completed their meal, so the 5 of you stay seated and wait for her—Dahyun’s mom gave Xinyu an extra serving of fries, so combine that with the fact that she’s not feeling well, it takes her longer to finish her food. Since you’re sitting next to Xinyu, you’re able to offer comfort her and encourage her to keep eating. Chaeyeon praises you for being a good boyfriend to Xinyu and that you and Xinyu are really meant to be together. You thank Chaeyeon for the kind words and pray that you’ll get to spend the rest of your life with Xinyu, because there’s no one else that you love more than her.

You see Dahyun get up from her seat and stand next to Xinyu before whispering something to her ear. Xinyu replies to whatever Dahyun just said with a nod, so Dahyun walks up to you and whisper in your ear. “Oppa, my parents want to talk to you. Follow me, please”, Dahyun says. You give her a nod and follow her to some office space tucked away in the back of the restaurant.

Once you enter, you see that the room she has led you into is actually empty. “Where are your parents, Dahyun-ah?”, you ask her as you look around the room. “Oh, they’ll be here soon”, Dahyun says as she approaches you, “I told them to join us when I tell them to. I want some private time with you first”. You look at her in confusion, and that’s when she pulls you down by your nape and kiss you. Dahyun breaks the kiss after a minute and rests her head on your chest. “What was that, Seo Dahyun?”, you ask her. You don’t hear any answer from her, but you do hear some sobs. “I love you, oppa, but I know I have no chance against Xinyu-unnie. There’s no way that you’ll leave her for me, is there?”, she says after a sniffle. “Dahyun-ah”, you say as you wrap your arms around her slender torso, “what are you saying right now? What does Xinyu have to do with anything?”. Noticing that you’re hugging her, Dahyun rids of any thoughts that’s holding her back and hugs you. “I just wish that you were mine, oppa, but we both know that it’s highly unlikely to happen”, she confesses.

You take a deep breath before pulling away from the hug. “Please don’t cry; I hate seeing girls cry”, you say as you wipe the tears on her cheek, “can we get your parents after this? The sooner we can get this out of the way, the better”. “I lied”, she confesses, “I just wanted to have some private time with you”. You can’t believe your ears; “excuse me?”, you question her. “I lied to you and Xinyu-unnie—is she always that gullible, by the way?”, she says. “Yes, she is”, you admit and sigh, “I’m getting out of here. The last thing I want today is breaking Xinyu’s heart by lying to her”. She grabs your wrist as you start walking away, “can I at least tempt you with a blowjob?”. “No, I get that a lot from Xinyu already”, you say, resolute and clear—not sure why you need to flex your sex life to Dahyun, though.

You return to the dining area and see that Xinyu has eaten all her food. You get on a knee next to her so that you gauge how she’s feeling based on her expressions. “Good job finishing them, baby. How are you feeling right now?”. Nakyoung answers your question for Xinyu, “she said she wants to go home soon, oppa”. “You do, sweetie?”, you ask Xinyu, and she replies with a nod. You get back on your feet and look at the crowd, “are we ready to go?”. “Just leave, don’t worry about us”, Yooyeon says, “go, take Xinyu home. I’ve been in her shoes before, and I wished I had had a boyfriend like you at the time”.

You carry her out of the car as soon as you arrive at your building and hustle straight to the bedroom. “Let’s lie down for a second, okay? I’ll get you some water and clothes”, you say to her after setting her down in bed. “No!”, she blurts out, “just-just be in bed with me, oppa, please”. You grant her request and get in bed to cuddle with her, and Xinyu promptly wraps her long limbs around different parts of your body. “Oppa, you won’t leave me for anyone else, right?”, she asks, as if knowing of what happened in the restaurant with you and Dahyun. “Never, princess”, you assure her with a short but genuine answer. She pecks you in the neck before continuing, “I don’t care if I sound like a broken record every time I say it, but I really mean it every single time, oppa”. “I would much rather listen to a broken record than be the cause of a broken heart—does that makes sense, by the way?”, you say, earning a small chuckle from Xinyu. “I don’t know if it does, but I don’t care; my stomach hurts too much and I don’t want to think about anything”, she says.

Two weeks have passed since Dahyun’s little stunt, and it is now Friday on the 29th of September which can only mean one thing: day 1 of the outing trip. “We should give this trip a name”, Nakyoung says. “You should come up with it”, Xinyu and Yooyeon say at the same time—Yooyeon isn’t coming along, but she wants to be there when you leave. “Sure, I’ll try—you guys like making me do stuff, don’t you?”, Nakyoung says.

Yooyeon then turns to you, “Jisung-ah, can we talk for a second?”. You nod and walk to the other side of the bus with her to get some privacy. “What is it?”, you ask. Yooyeon rubs her forehead with a palm before speaking, “Dahyun-ie told me everything”. You signal to her to keep talking, so she does. “Will you be okay? Xinyu is also on this trip with you”, she asks. You take a deep breath before answering; “I’ll be fine. I’m planning to address it with her at some point during the trip”. Yooyeon gives you an encouraging smile and a fist bump. “Whatever decision you two come up with, try to make it easier for her, okay? She has a good heart, and I would hate to see her lose it”, she says. ”Oppa, where are you? We need to leave!”, Xinyu shouts from the other side of the bus. “That’s my cue”, you give Yooyeon a friendly hug, “I’ll see you on Monday, okay? I’ll treat you guys to lunch”.

You go back to where everyone was gathering and see that they’re getting on the bus one by one. You hold Nakyoung and Xinyu by their wrists to prevent them from getting on. “I’m counting on you two”, you say to them, “help me run the show, please”. They both give you a nod simultaneously, so you let them go and get on the bus with everyone. “Make sure nothing catches on fire when we’re away, okay? See you on Monday!”, you say to Yooyeon as you wave your goodbye, and she waves back with a smile. Once you are seated, the bus starts moving, thus marking the beginning of your last council initiation trip before graduating.

“We’re getting on the ferry, guys”, the co-driver says as the bus rolls onto the ship, “you can get off the bus if you want to. Just make sure you’re back in your seat in one hour”. After being given permission to get off, you walk to the upper deck to take in the sight of the strait. You lean against the railings and feel the fresh and relaxing breeze blowing at you. “Never knew how good it is to be on a ship. I wonder if mama and papa would be down for a cruise trip—for their anniversary, maybe? I should call them later”, you say to yourself

You close your eyes and savor the sense of freedom the sea is giving you, and you feel a hand on your back. “Hi, baby. Here for the wind as well?”, you say without looking. “I like how pet names escape your lips so naturally all the time”, the voice says. “Wait, that’s not Xinyu’s voice. That’s—“, you turn your head and see Dahyun in front of you. “Can I help you?”, you say, trying your best to stay composed. “You can, actually”, she says before pulling you away from the railings to hide behind a wall. “Stay still, please”, she tells you as she gets on her knees in front of you, “you know where this is going, don’t you?”. You can’t help but panic now, “Seo Dahyun, are you out of your mind? Xinyu will feed us to the sharks if she sees this”. “Please, oppa. Just this one time—Xinyu-unnie is busy with the other recruits right now”, she begs you.

You let out a deep sigh and start taking off your pants and boxers, piling them on your ankles. “Oh my God”, Dahyun exclaims, as she wraps her hand around your cock, “now I’m really envious of Xinyu”. You grit your teeth at the sensation, “that’s Xinyu-unnie to you”. “Fuck you”, she says before putting her lips around your cock. If Dahyun wasn’t on her knees with your cock in her mouth, you’d be offended and scold her, but she is, and you can’t think straight right now. “You better make this worthwhile, you slut”, you warn her. She removes your cock from her lips with a teasing smile, “keep the names for when you’re fucking me, oppa”, she says before continuing her work on your cock.

You’ve gotten a lot of heads before from your beloved, but Dahyun is doing an exceptional job right now: the way she’s licking the underside of your cock as her head moves along your shaft is different to how Xinyu usually does it. “This is a terrible time to think about Xinyu—fuck, I’m so sorry, my love”, you think to yourself. “This is the longest I’ve seen a guy last”, Dahyun says, taking a break from stuffing her face with your cock. “Are you going to finish this or what? If you can’t make me cum first try, you don’t deserve a second time”, you tease her. “Oh, I will, no need to worry about that”, Dahyun wipes her mouth before taking you in it again.

“You’ve had enough fun. Time to do it on my terms”, you say. You take her gloriously thick jet-black hair in your hand and start fucking her mouth deep. “Xinyu never gags, so you better not gag”, you provoke her—it’s not that Xinyu doesn’t gag at all, it’s just that she’s gotten more and more familiar your cock with every blowjob she’s done. You push the back of her head into your crotch and feel your tip hit the back of her throat. “Stay”, you command, and she does as you say (not that she has other options). After staying in that position for a few seconds, Dahyun starts gurgling loudly, so you show her some mercy and leave her mouth. Dahyun coughs and pants as she massages her neck, “holy shit, how does unnie do this all the time?”. “Because unlike you, she’s a good girl”, you then yank her hair and make her look up, “I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re gonna swallow it without letting a drop leak, is that clear?”. “Yes, oppa”, she says between pants. “Wrong fucking name”, you say sternly and yank her hair again. “Oh, fuck, my hair—yes, daddy”, she corrects herself.

You put your tip on her lips again and she opens her mouth obediently. “Be good”, you say as you start fucking her mouth harder and faster to chase your orgasm. You take it up a notch and pinch her nose shut as you fuck her face. Your brain starts wondering if you’re trying to make her your side slut, but that’s a question for later. For now, you’re aiming to shoot your load into her stomach. “I’m cumming, slut”, you say, as you release drop after drop after drop of cum into her mouth. The suddenness catches Dahyun off guard and makes her choke, but she tries her best to adhere to your command anyway.

You remove your cock from her mouth and see Dahyun swallow your cum in one gulp. “Good girl”, you praise her. You help her up to her feet and hug her, “let’s make sure no one knows this, yeah?”. “Yes, oppa”, she says, “I have a new idea, oppa”. You squint your eyes, expecting her to say something wild, “and that is?”. She looks at you straight in the eyes and utters her idea, “I can be your side girl, oppa”. You’re taken aback by her words, “what the fuck are you saying right now?”. She shrugs, “I figured since I can’t steal you from unnie, I’ll just be your side girl. You can come to me if Xinyu-unnie is unable to, um, please you”. The angel sitting on your right shoulder is yelling at you to say no, but the devil’s urge is stronger right now and you’re succumbing to it. “Sure, just make sure to keep this between us. Now let’s get out of here”, you say, feeling uneasy.

The 1-hour break flew by, and now you’re sitting on the bus again with Xinyu next to you. She leans her head on your shoulder and sighs, “where were you, oppa? I didn’t see you at all". Your eyes shake in nervousness, “I was sightseeing on the upper deck, baby. What about you?”. “Nakyoung-ie suggested that we should talk to the recruits and know them better considering who we are, but since you were away, I represented you and now I want to sleep”, she says with a yawn. You chuckle and pat her in the back, “that’s my girl. Get some sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when we arrive”. “Your girl, huh? The one you just betrayed by getting a side chick? You’re fucking shitting me right now”, the angel insults you—you never knew an angel was capable of swearing, but you deserve it right now.

“Alright, guys; we’re here”, the co-driver announces. You tap Xinyu in the back a few times to wake her up. “Wake up, sweetie; we’ve arrived”, you say to her. “I wanna go home, oppa”, she says with a pout. “We’ll be home before you know it, love. Patience for now, please”, you persuade her. “I want your cock tonight”, she whispers to you, and you try your hardest to not blush (and get a boner).

You see the co-driver open the door, so you get up from your seat and get off the bus followed by Xinyu and everyone else. You ask everyone but Xinyu and Nakyoung to wait outside the resort complex while you go in and get the keys from the reception desk. “Good morning, miss. We’re from the Silicon Summit State University”, you say to the lady sitting at the desk. “Good morning to you as well. Please wait a moment”, she says as she opens the book in front of her, “I’ll get your keys so please have a seat”.

She returns to you after a few minutes with a bag filled with keycards. “Here are your keys. Have a good stay and please don’t mess anything up—the hall is ready for use, by the way”, she says. You take the bag from her and say your farewell before leaving the front office.

“Attention, please”, you say in front of your crowd, “find the roommates you want to share a room with and line up in front of me with your group so that I can give you a keycard”. They do as you say and make groups of 3 with their preferred roommates. One group after another lines up in front of you, and you give each group a keycard to their room until every group has one. Everyone walks away to find their rooms, leaving the three of you alone with no keys left. “Did you miscount?”, you turn to Nakyoung. “11 rooms for 33 people and 1 room for Professor Kim, no?”, she says. “33 people? You didn’t count us, you dummy”, Xinyu pinches Nakyoung’s cheeks. “Wait, wait—aaaah, I’m so sorry”, Nakyoung says as she tries to push Xinyu away. Xinyu lets go of Nakyoung’s cheeks and turns to you, “so what do we do, oppa?”. You dismiss their worry, “it’s fine. I’ll head back in there and ask for 2 more rooms for you two and myself—I’ll pay, don’t worry”.

“Excuse me, miss”, you say to the lady again, “my friend miscounted how many people we have in the group, so now we need 2 more rooms. I sincerely hope you have some vacant ones right now”. She nods and fiddles with the computer in front of her, “we have 6 empty rooms right now and 2 of them are on opposite ends of the same corridor”. You sigh in relief, “I’ll take that 2, please”. She nods again, “sure, the previous 11 have been paid in full so you only need to pay 2”. She then tells you the sum and you hand her your card. “What about the breakfast and dinner buffet, miss?”, you ask as you enter your PIN. “No worries, I’ll tell the other staff members about the situation so that you can sit and eat with everyone”, she says as she hands your card back to you.

“Hey, girls”, you call out to Xinyu and Nakyoung, who then walk up to you. “Here’s your card. I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with Xinyu”, you hand Nakyoung a keycard. Xinyu looks at you in surprise, “I’m not sleeping with you?”. You shake your head, “you’re not. We don’t want the others to libel us”. Xinyu takes the card from your hand, “I’m so sorry, oppa. I’ll make it up to you one day”. “Don’t worry about it”, you pet her head, “now let’s get some rest before we start doing stuff, okay?”.

You walk with Xinyu and Nakyoung to find your rooms and get in as soon as you find it. “I’ll see you in 2 hours”, you say before closing the door behind you. You drop your bag on the bed and feel your phone vibrating in your pocket.

[🍒]

You’re alone, aren’t you?

Wanna fuck my face again?

[👑]

How did you know?

No, not in the mood

[🍒]

Curious much?

Just tell me if you want to cum

ㅋㅋㅋ

“I need to fuck some obedience into this girl, don’t I?”, you say with a sigh after. You throw your phone on the bed and start opening your back to get some shower supplies. You don’t like the soap and shampoo they offer at hotels and resorts because they don’t make foam. You then head to the bathroom to get a quick shower to refresh yourself after the long ride and the blowjob Dahyun gave you on the ferry.

The 2 hours are up, and now it’s time to go to the hall to officially start the initiation trip. You meet Xinyu and Nakyoung outside the hall, and Xinyu immediately runs to you and hugs you. “I miss you”, she says with a sad tone. “Cutie, it’s only been 2 hours”, you chuckle, “we’ve been apart for longer before”. “Yes, but not when we’re in the middle of nowhere”, she defends herself. You see Nakyoung roll her eyes, “oh, c’mon. 2 hours without oppa won’t kill you, and we’re not in the middle of nowhere, damn it”. Xinyu lets go of the hug to scold Nakyoung, but you pull her back into the hug by her wrist. “Calm down, please. This isn’t my apartment, let’s not make a scene here”. After taking a few seconds to calm down, you drag the two girls into the hall.

“Good afternoon, everybody”, you greet the council members, and they immediately look up from their phones. “Some of you have done this before while some others haven’t, but please allow me to welcome you all the same. I understand that this initiation trip might look or feel pointless to some of you, but it’s important to see this as an opportunity to get to know everyone better. You guys will spend a lot of time working with each other on projects, and that includes me, the vice president, and secretary”, you say and get collective nods as a reply.

“Now, let’s start by introducing ourselves, starting with me. My name is Jung Jisung. I was born in 2001, so this is my last dance both in the council and university. It has been an honor to be the president of the council, and I look forward to working with you guys in my last year—also, it’s okay if you find my title to be weird or cringe; I cringe when I hear people say that title out loud as well. Feel free to call me anything but sunbaenim, please”, you end your introduction with a small bow, “I’ll let those two girls introduce themselves”. Nakyoung pushes Xinyu to go first, so she takes a spot next to your right to introduce herself. “Hello, everyone. My name is Zhou Xinyu, born in 2002 in China. I was Jisung-oppa’s running mate back then and now I’m the vice president. I look forward to working with you guys as well”, she says. There’s nowhere Nakyoung can hide now, so she steps up to introduce herself. “Hi, hi”, she starts, “I’m Kim Nakyoung. I was also born in 2002 but unlike her, I was born in South Korea. Officially, I’m the secretary of the council but outside the office hours, I follow these two around like a third wheel”.

“Thank you, you two. Aside from the three of us, we also have a treasurer named Park Jaehwan, but he’s currently hospitalized for Dengue fever. In case you didn’t know, we also have governors who lead their own councils on the faculty level, and you’ll meet them soon as we collaborate for projects like community service”, you say, “now, let’s continue the train and have everyone introduce themselves”. At your words, Dahyun runs to the front with Chaeyeon behind her. “Hellooo!”, she says excitedly, “my name is Seo Dahyun but you can call me Soda. I was born in 2003 in Busan. I look forward to making memories with you guys”. You chuckle in amusement, “thank you, Dahyun-ah. Next person, please”. “Hi, hi, hello”, Chaeyeon says while waving, “I’m Kim Chaeyeon, born in 2004. I also look forward to making memories with you guys”. “Thank you, you two. Ministers, it’s your turn to shine now—you don’t want to lose out to these two, do you?”, Nakyoung says.

Like a real government, you also have a handful of ministers in your council. They are basically group leaders who have a handful of council members working with them and are usually tasked with coming up with projects and helping run things at the university level and sometimes the faculty level as well. In fact, one of them is coming up to introduce herself right now. “Hiiiiii”, she drags out her greeting in excitement, “my name is Park Aecha and I’m currently the minister of public relations. I was born in 2003 in Seoul and Park Jaehwan, the treasurer that Jisung-oppa mentioned earlier, is my older brother—please pray for him, by the way. Welcome to the council, guys!”.

As another minister walks up, Aecha leaves her spot to sit down again, but you pull her to the side first. “Aecha-yah, if you want to leave first, just say the word. We’re not holding you hostage here”, you say to her. “Thank you, oppa. I’m planning to leave tomorrow afternoon after the interviews, if that’s okay with you and the two girls. Only the three of you matter to me”, she says. “I guarantee you that we’re 1000% okay with that. If you hear anyone say otherwise, just tell me who and we’ll throw them into the strait”, you assure her. Aecha smiles and nods before leaving you to head back to her seat.

“Thank you for introducing yourselves, everyone”, Nakyoung says, “we will take a break for 2 more hours before gathering here again for a leadership and professional ethics class led by Professor Kim Taeyeon—we have a lot of down time today but believe me when I say that you should enjoy it as much as you can”. She looks in your direction, so you give her a nod; “dis-missed!”, she says with a voice crack, provoking a collective giggle from the crowd. “Good job, Nakyoung-ah”, you say to her. “Aaaaaah, why did my voice crack, oppaaaa”, she complains to you as she smacks you in the chest lightly. “It’s okay, happens to the best of us”, you chuckle as you pat her back. You then pull Xinyu in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you girls in 2 hours; I want to sleep a bit—wake me up if I oversleep, okay?”.

You text Dahyun as soon as you enter your room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

[👑]

To my room, please

Door isn’t locked

Make sure no one sees you

[🍒]

On my way xoxo

You lay in bed after seeing her response and immediately hear the door swing open and slam shut. “That was quick”, you say when you see Dahyun in your room. “My room is right across from yours, oppa”, she confesses. “Huh, no wonder you knew where my room is”, you say. “Mhmm. Now, what can I do for you?”, she asks. You get up from the bed and tell her your wish, “I want you to take everything off—now”. She starts by taking off her short black cardigan that’s held together with just one button, revealing the sports bra she has underneath it; “that’s cute”, you comment. She then unbuttons her jeans and take them off, thus leaving her only in her sports bra and panties.

“Come here, I’ll finish the job for you”, you say to her. Dahyun then gets closer to you, “yes, daddy”. You pull the sports bra over her head and toss it somewhere without looking before kneeling to take off her panties. “I like that you keep it clean and shaved. Keep doing it, okay?”, you praise her. “Yes, da—oh, God, yes”, her words are cut off when she feels your tongue on her pussy. You yank her legs apart even more so that you can have more space to move your head closer to her pussy. You lick and suck her clit, forcing Dahyun to cover her mouth to muffle her moans. “Oppa, please”, she begs with a low voice, “please, that’s so good”. You want to make her cum to repay her “kindness” on the ferry, so you stick two fingers into her pussy without letting up the stimulations on her clit.

“I’m-I’m so close—please, oppa, please”, Dahyun says between muffled moans. You finger-fuck her pussy faster and keep licking her clit like it was the most delicious ice cream ever. “O-oppa, hug me, please”, she begs. So, you stand up and hug her as she requests. She hugs you tightly and muffles her scream by biting your shoulder, and you hear splashes on the floor—"she’s squirting, that’s fun”, you think to yourself. Dahyun immediately becomes limp in your arms, so you hold her to make sure she doesn't fall.

“I-I—fuck—haven’t cum that hard in so long”, Dahyun says with heavy pants, “thank you so much, oppa. I-I love you”. You lift her and put her in bed before leaving to get a towel and some water. “Here, have a drink, sweetie”, you say as you guide the bottle to her mouth. You let her hold the bottle herself and walk to the small puddle to clean it. “I’ll get back to you in a minute, okay?”, you say as you walk to the bathroom after cleaning the little mess.

“I’m guessing it’s my turn to make you cum?”, she weakly says. You put on a gentle smile, one that you usually show to Xinyu. “No, sweetie, it’s not. I just wanted to repay your kindness”, you peck her in the forehead, “I love you, baby”. She wipes a stray tear on her cheek, “but I’m just your side girl. Are you sure you want to say that?”. You take her hands and pull her into a hug, “yes, I am”. “Finally accepting her as your side chick, huh? Splendid job, son”, the devil praises you. You shake your head lightly to rid his voice from your brain and focus on the girl in your arms. “I’m so sorry but you need to leave soon, darling. Make sure no one sees you, okay?”, you peck the top of her head apologetically.

You help her put on her clothes, starting from her panties. Before you give her the sports bra back, you quickly nibble her tits; “soft and perky, exactly my favorites”, you comment. Dahyun blushes as she tries to put on her sports bra; “tha-thank you, oppa. I know they’re not as big—“. You cut her off by giving her a peck on the lips, “what’s the point of comparing yourself with others, sweetie?”. Dahyun’s cheeks get even redder at your words, “oh, how sweet. Xinyu-unnie must be—oh, fuck”. You cut her off again with a squeeze in the neck, “say her name one more time, I fucking dare you”. You let go of her neck right away and clarifies to her, “I can be both sweet and mean at any given moment. It just depends on how you act around me. Are we clear?”. She nods in understanding, so you hand her jeans back and she puts them on right away. “I like how you dress, sweetie. Dress like this when we’re together, please”, you say as she puts on her cardigan. After making sure that she’s ready to go, you give her a quick kiss on the lips and let her go back to her room. “Make sure no one knows about this, okay?”, you say as Dahyun leaves the room and closes the door behind her.

You take a glance at your watch and see that you have around 90 minutes before you need to go to the hall again. You decide to take a nap as planned until you either wake up from the alarm or a flurry of missed calls from Xinyu. “What are we becoming, Seo Dahyun?”, you question yourself, “oh, God, Xinyu would be so hurt if she finds out about this; she was my first and now I’m two-timing her—fuck, I’m so damn stupid”.

You wake up before the alarm rings, 20 minutes to spare before the session starts. You decide to go to the hall right away after texting Xinyu to tell her that you’re heading there first. You see Professor Kim Taeyeon walking to the hall as well, looking mad attractive as ever. “Professor Kim”, you greet her simply. “Hi, sweetie”, she says with a warm smile―she has a habit of calling her favorite students with pet names, and you entered her list after making the dean’s list thrice in a row. “You look like you have a lot going on. You can tell me, sweetie; you know I don’t judge”, she says as the both of you enter the hall. You picture in your head how hurt Xinyu would be if she finds out that you’re cheating, and the sting of guilt makes you shed a tear. “I, uh, I fucked up, professor”, you confess with tears on your cheeks, “I betrayed Xinyu terribly”. “Let’s sit down before we continue, okay?”, she takes your hand and drags you to sit down.

She makes you sit in front of her, “go on, please”. You decide not to hide anything from her because you trust her that much. “There’s this girl that has been chasing me even though she knows I’m dating Xinyu, and instead of addressing it with Xinyu and pushing her away, my dumb ass gave her the opportunity so now she’s my side chick—excuse my language, professor”, you confess teary-eyed while looking down in shame. Professor Kim sighs, and you figure that she’s disappointed in you. “I hope those tears are coming from a place of guilt”, she says. You nod, “Xinyu would be so hurt if she finds out, and I wouldn’t be able to make it up to her no matter what”. “Humor me with a question, Jisung-ah: which one is more important: your beloved Zhou Xinyu, who has been with you through storms and tranquility, or this new side chick—what’s her name, by the way?”. “Seo Dahyun, professor”, you say. “Seo Dahyun? The freshman?”, she questions you. “You know her, madam?”, you look up to her. She sighs again, “I’ve met her parents before, and I had been told that you invested in them”. You nod again, “my family’s treasurer did it for me, so I don’t know the details”.

She takes your hand in hers and rubs the back of it softly, “would you please answer my question?”. You take a deep breath to recall the question before giving her your answer, “Xinyu is far more important to me than her, professor; she’s been by my side through everything”. She nods in understanding, “we all make mistakes, son—sometimes more regrettable than we’d like to admit, but what matters is how you can learn from it and become a better person”. “Your advice, madam?”, you ask her. It’s now the professor’s turn to take a deep breath, “you said that Xinyu is more important, so let Dahyun-ie go, Jisung-ah. Xinyu deserves the best of you while Dahyun-ie deserves much better than to be someone’s side chick”.

“Oppa!”, Xinyu shouts excitedly when she enters the hall, “oh, I’m sorry—hello, professor”. “Hi, darling”, Professor Kim says with a smile, “welcome”. Xinyu approaches the two of you and then turns to Professor Kim, “why is oppa crying, professor?”. Professor Kim gestures to Xinyu to sit down. “He had a lot in his mind but couldn’t bring himself to talk to you, so he shared some of them with me instead”, she says, “tell me, darling: do you love your president-oppa here?”. Xinyu looks at you and Professor Kim in confusion, “I do, professor. I love him with my entire being”. Professor Kim looks at you with a motherly smile, “see, son? Xinyu loves you as much as you love her. What else is there to doubt?”. Professor Kim then stands up from her seat to prepare for the class, “I’ll give you some space to talk, okay?”.

Xinyu pulls you to your feet and hugs you tautly, “oppa, what is she talking about? Are you okay?”. “I’m okay, sweetie. I’m-I’m so sorry”, you say in a shaky voice, “my mind was full of bullshit, but I didn’t want to bother you with them”. Xinyu sheds a tear of her own after hearing your words, “but-but why not, oppa? Am I not your girlfriend? You can talk to me about your worries, you know”. You pull away from the hug and wipe her tears, “I just couldn’t muster up the courage to talk to you about it, baby. You already have a lot to worry about so I just wanted to be the shoulder you can lean on”. Xinyu puts her forehead on yours, “I’m always here for you, oppa, the same way you’re always here for me”. You nod and peck her forehead, “I love you, darling. I’m sorry for making you worried. Now let’s calm down, okay? People will be here soon”.

You are holding hands with Xinyu during the session, and time flies by like it was nothing. Professor Kim is now offering advice to people who want it, and people start raising their hands. She tells each of them what they need to hear no matter how cold it might sound. “We all make mistakes in our lives, and that’s okay”, she says, repeating her advice for you from earlier, “what’s important is how you deal with it, learn from it, and become a better person after, because falling in the same hole twice is simply foolish. I know I do not look and act like a wise person all the time, but this is what I’ve learned throughout my life—I’ve been in your shoes, but you haven’t been in mine”. You squeeze Xinyu’s hand after hearing the professor’s advice. “I promise I’ll keep improving and become a better person for us, love. You deserve the best of me the same way I deserve the best of you”, you whisper to her. “I love you, oppa”, she whispers back, as if it wasn’t clear as day already.

When you turn to Professor Kim again, you see that she’s smiling at you and Xinyu before turning back to the audience. “Does anyone have any more questions?”, she asks, but no one raises their hand. “One more thing before we wrap things up, ladies and gents: remember to always be honest with yourself and those you love. Tell them you love them and are grateful for them”, she adds, “we come and go like on the freeway, so hold them close while you can”. You look down to process the things she just said, trying not to cry in front of the whole council as you feel like a revelation has been brought to you, courtesy of the one and only Professor Kim Taeyeon. “You may go now”, the professor dismisses the crowd, “I’ll see you back at campus in a few days. Good evening”.

Everyone but Xinyu and Professor Kim has left the hall to do whatever, leaving the three of you in the room. “Take care of each other, will you? I want to see you two live a good life—together, hopefully”, she says. “Thank you, professor. Have a safe flight back”, Xinyu says with a respectful bow. The professor gives her a smile and starts walking away, giving space for you two to have a little catch-up.

You jump up from your seat and pull Xinyu into a passionate kiss. “Thank you for being in my life, baby”, you say after breaking the kiss, “I will do my best to be the best boyfriend for you”. “Oppa, I’m thankful for you as well, you know”, she says in such a calm manner that you rarely hear (because she’s energetic and loud most of the time) combined with a smile that’s as warm as the morning sun, “I’d like to make a promise as well, love: I promise to always be by your side through thick and thin and be the beautiful and graceful girlfriend that you deserve—do you know why, baby?”. You shake your head to encourage her to continue and see where this is going, “because I love you so much, honey, and I sincerely ask you to never leave me because I can’t picture myself alone without you—I’ve never been selfish before, so please allow me to be selfish just this one time”. Xinyu very rarely uses pet names with you, only referring to you as “oppa” (or “daddy” when you two are in bed), so the words she’s saying are hitting you harder than ever, working wonders to convince you to cut ties with Dahyun. The professor was right: these two girls deserve the best life has to offer, and you can’t cater to both at the same time without hurting one of them.

You take her hand with a smile and drag her to leave the hall. “Baby, can you come to my room, please?”, you ask her. “For what reason, Mr. President?”, she says, smirking. You turn the gears in your head to come up with an answer. “You want me to stay by your side, yeah? I’ll do you one better”, you lean in so you can whisper in her ear, “how about I stay inside you instead, baby, hm?”. Xinyu turns away to hide her tomato cheeks. “Oh, my fucking—oppaaaa, what are you saying right noooow? Fuck me, are you even listening to yourself, oppa?”, she says, flustered. You double down and tease Xinyu more. “Fuck you? Yeah, that’s the plan; I’ll be cumming inside you as well”, you say with a naughty smirk. “Aaaaah, why are you like this, oppaaaa”, Xinyu whines, her blush is obvious for anyone to see. You chuckle in amusement, “alright, baby, that’s enough playing around. Now, would you kindly follow me to my room?”.

You decide to call Nakyoung to ask about today’s schedule before jumping into the action. “Nakyoung-ah”, you say as soon as she picks up, “where are you?”. “I’m in my room. I saw that you guys were busy, so I left first”, she says. “Yeah, it’s fine. We had some personal things we needed to address with each other”, you explain, “we don’t have anything important after this, do we? Just the dinner?”. “What do you mean ‘just the dinner?’ We’ll be asking them to make an essay on council project ideas before dinner, remember?”, she says. “Oh, right”, you say, “anyway, we’re skipping dinner, so if anyone asks, tell them we need some time alone and that we’re sorry. We’ll go over their essays with the ministers tomorrow morning”. “Yeah, I can do that”, Nakyoung agrees to your request, “are you guys okay, though? I saw both of you bawl your eyes out earlier. You’re not breaking up, are you?”. Xinyu takes the phone from your hand, “no, we’re not breaking up. In fact, we’ll be solidifying our relationship tonight”. You hear Nakyoung laugh over the phone, “sure, girl, whatever you say—just keep it down when you do it, ‘kay? Have fun!”.

Fun is exactly what you’re aiming for tonight, and while Xinyu knows that as well, you don’t want to jump to it right away. “Baby girl”, you softly call out to her, “I’m not horny for the sake of it, but I do want to show you how much I love you and my options are limited right now”. Xinyu rubs your cheek with her thumb gently, “Oh, is that so? Show me then, oppa, and I’ll show you my love as well”.

Usually, you start by taking off Xinyu’s clothes but this time, you decide to switch it up and take off yours first. “Is it just me or are those biceps bigger?”, Xinyu comments. You flex in front of her, “I don’t know, I haven’t noticed anything yet”. Xinyu’s eyes move down to your cock, “that looks bigger too”. You chuckle, “there’s no need to inflate my ego, love”. “Inflate your—no, I’m dead serious!”, she says as she moves to hold your cock, “you will stretch me for sure”.

Snicker as you pull Xinyu up to her feet to kiss her. “I love you, baby, and I don’t care if I sound like a broken record because I mean it every time”. Xinyu furrows her eyebrows as she tries to remember something. “Wait, that’s my line from when I was bitching about my period, no?”, she crosses her arms and pouts, “apologize for stealing my line or I’m not letting you in my pants—don’t forget the pet name”. “I’m sorry for stealing your line, baby—also, you weren’t bitching; you were in real pain”, you say, adhering to her demand, “can I get in your pants now?”. Xinyu shoves you softly, “sit on the bed and watch me strip”.

Xinyu takes a few steps back and takes off her T-shirt, revealing her tits that’s covered with a simple white bra. You start stroking your cock at the sight, and Xinyu throws her T-shirt at you, “impatient, hm? I like it; makes me feel wanted and beautiful, you know?”. You groan after a particular stroke, “I always want you, beautiful—respectfully”. Xinyu shakes her head as she unbuttons her jeans and pull them down, “you and your words, oppa”.

The sight of Xinyu in her underwear (or naked—just so we’re clear) never gets old for you; “it has to be illegal to be this hot”, you utter while mindlessly stroking your cock. “I can’t get these off, oppa. Wanna help?”, she teases. You’ve never acted so quickly at anyone’s words before, as you jump off the bed and approach her; “woah, relax, oppa”, Xinyu comments. “I don’t know what that word means”, you say, possessed by lust. You make quick work of her bra and panties and throw them to God-knows-where. You then pull her in for a kiss, your tongue wrestling hers like it was AEW.

Xinyu breaks the kiss after a minute so that she can breathe. “Fuck, baby, I want you so bad right now”, you say with a deep, lustful voice. “Just—fuck—just take me already, oppa. I can’t fucking wait anymore”, she says, her breath heavy from the lust. You carry Xinyu to the bed and make her take the bottom position. “Oppa, please, let’s start already—OH”, Xinyu covers her mouth tightly as you immediately ram your cock into her pussy and start fucking her deep. “You’re stretching me, you’re stretching me”, she chants softly in your ear after biting you on the shoulder. You’re tempted to leave a hickey (or a dozen), but you don’t want people to know that you’re having sex, so you leave her neck and chest alone.

Xinyu almost lets out a loud moan, but you squeeze her neck just in time before she does. “I’m sorry, love, but we can’t afford to get caught”, you say to her. “You-you—just cover my mouth, don’t cho-choke me”, she says with troubled breath. You let her neck go and retreat from her exceptionally wet pussy. “On your stomach, please”, you say, “moan into the pillow”. Xinyu nods and rolls over onto her stomach, and you lift her ass up to get a better angle to bang her. After making sure that her face is pressed into the pillow, you start fucking her again, harder this time. You can’t hear what Xinyu’s saying right now, but that’s the whole point of using the pillow.

As you keep fucking her from behind, her asshole keeps peeking from behind her cheeks, and your cock, which has taken over your brain as an organ of thoughts, urges you to do something about it. You take your index finger and touch Xinyu’s rear entrance, and she turns to look at you instantly. “Don’t hurt me, please. I’ve never put anything in there, oppa”, she says. You nod, “do you consent?”. Xinyu gives you a little nod, so you start pushing your finger into her forbidden hole and it forces Xinyu to bite the pillow. “Ngh, you-you’re stretching me, oppa”, she says, and you’re not sure if her expression is that of someone in pain. “Are you okay, baby? Do you want me to pull it out?”, you ask her softly despite your pants. “I-I think I’m fine—try putting in another finger gently”, she says.

You stop your thrusts to focus on the task at hand and put your middle finger in her ass as gently as possible. You hear Xinyu make some sound, but you maintain your concentration and patience to work on her asshole, until her ass finally gives way for your fingers. “S-so full”, she says, “is this what—hngh, God—anal feels like?”. You shake your head in cluelessness, “can I go again, baby?”. “Only if you promise to not your move fingers as you fuck me”, she says. “Of course, love”, you say

You notice as you’re fucking her again that her pussy keeps squeezing your cock randomly and you suspect that she’s close. “Fuck, you’re so tight, princess”, you praise her as you up the pace. “I’m close, oppa; make me cum, please”, she says, confirming your suspicion. Pull out your fingers so that you only need to concentrate on one thing, which is fucking her in the pussy with your cock; “the ass play can wait”, you think to yourself.

“Oppa, I’m cumming; pull out for a second, please”, she utters, so you do as she asks and pull out. You see Xinyu scream into the pillow as you feel her juice hit you in the pelvis area. You wait until she’s done squirting before fucking her again. “I know you’re still sensitive, but I can’t wait. I’m sorry”, you say to her. Xinyu’s moans are getting worryingly loud, so you put a hand on the back of her head to make sure the pillow stifles the sound.

You feel your cock leak in her pussy, and you’re reminded that you haven’t asked if it’s okay to cum inside. “Darling, is it safe today?”, you ask her. “I’ve been taking pills since after my last period, oppa”, she says. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier”, you apologize to her, “I’m cumming inside you, okay, love?”. A few pumps later, you sense that you’re about to bust, so you lodge your cock as deep as you can in her pussy and open the valves. “Stay inside, oppa”, Xinyu says weakly, “God, so warm every time”.

You’ve spent your entire vigor fucking Xinyu, so now you feel weak. “Xinyu-yah, can I pull out now?”, you ask her. “You can, but before you do”, she says, “I want you to take a video of my pussy as your cum drips out of me, oppa”. You’re bewildered by her request, “can I ask why?”. “You’ve said multiple times how hot it looks but I don’t know what it looks like, and now I’m curious”, she answers. You look around the room, “I mean, sure, but where is my phone?”.

Thankfully (and conveniently enough), your phone is on the bedside table under the lamp, within arm’s reach. You open the camera app and switch to video mode, “I’m pulling out, baby”. You aim the camera at your cock as you’re pulling out, and it only occurs to you now how big of a cock it looks, especially on camera; no wonder Xinyu was intimidated and hesitant at first. After your whole shaft is out, you move your aim to record her pussy and wait until your cum starts spilling out of her. “Oh, that’s so thick actually”, you comment as you see your cum escape her pussy. “Yeah, your cum is always thick”, Xinyu replies, “now mute the audio and send it to me”. You fiddle with your phone for a moment and notify her that it’s been done, and Xinyu drops her waist onto the bed to rest.

“You and I are not finished yet, miss vice president”, you say as you lift and carry her on your shoulder. “You want to go again, oppa? You want to make me scream my lungs out this time?”, she says—Xinyu has this pure, innocent girl façade but she’s quite naughty actually. You chuckle, “I’m spent, love. What I meant is I want to help you clean up—stop being so perverted all the time, hon, damn”. “Aaah, oppa, why are you teasing me like that? It’s not my fault you’re so good at sex”, she complains while smacking your back playfully.

You make her sit on the toilet and kneel in front of her. “I’m good at sex because of you, love. You’re my first so I hadn’t the slightest clue about sex back then, but you patiently helped and guided me and here we are”, you tell her. You always mean what you say—well, 90% of the time—so Xinyu knows without a shadow of a doubt that your words are sincere. “You just fucked my brains out and now you’re talking like this, oppa?”, Xinyu says. She then takes a breath and starts her rant: “this is why I want to stay by your side, oppa. Imagine what it would be like for me if you left and then I got with someone else and because I’ve been so conditioned to hearing your sincerity and honesty, I couldn’t tell if my boyfriend was lying, and then—". You cut off her train of words with a kiss. “I understand, love. I want to stay with you as much as you want to stay with me—cross my heart”, you say to her with a smile. “There you go, son”, the angel makes a return and commends you, “you’ve finally remembered how important she is to you”.

You stand up and pull her into the shower, and then Xinyu pulls you into another kiss. “Your cock is poking me”, she giggles, “are you actually still horny? Want me to suck you?”. ‘Tis your turn to chuckle, “how can I not have a boner when you’re naked in front of me?”. She turns away from you and puts her hands on the wall, “One day, I’ll be naked for you 24/7 and just let you do whatever to me: play with my tits, cum on my face, shove your cock down my throat, et cetera”. You feel a rush of excitement in your head instantly, “um, can we do that next weekend?”. She lets out a laugh, “you can’t have enough of me ever, can you?”.

“No”, you say firmly, “I can’t. You’re just too hot”.

#triples smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader smut #male reader

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makethemhoesmad · 5 months ago

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first sight

dancing with our hands tied part one!

paige bueckers x reader

—

brooke’s pov

“holy shit brooke,” taniya shouts from her room.

“what,” i yell back. it’s a questionable method of communication, but it works for us. i hear her footsteps clambering towards my room, then my door bursts open and taniya, my five-foot-barely anything roomate flings herself onto my bed.

“paige FUCKING bueckers commented on your post and all you did was like it? i thought i taught you better than this, bee,” taniya says, shaking her head at me.

“well, it’s not like-“

“HOLD ON,” taniya cuts me off, “she liked this comment saying ‘the spine tattoo…my god’ brooklyn mae johns she’s fucking in love with you.”

i roll my eyes at taniya’s wild predictions, which aren’t new to our friendship. “first of all, my name isn’t even brooklyn, second of all, wait, check my phone, who’s that message from?”

taniya picks up my phone, reads something, then screams at the top of her lungs and chucks my phone at me.

Paige💕

Hey was just wondering what college you went to?

i stare blankly at the screen, starstruck. taniya nudges me, motioning at the phone to respond.

Brookee🐝

Uconn, like you.

Paige💕

Oh shit really? I didn’t know you knew so much about me😏

“is she really tryna flirt with me IN MY DMS right now?” i say out loud. taniya giggles.

“no shit sherlock, that’s why she slid into your dms. tell her you like basketball or something!”

Brookee🐝

i mean, i like basketball and my dorm isn’t that far from gampel. the mcdonald’s like twenty minutes away is like ten times cooler tho.

“you sneaky shit,” taniya snickers.

Paige💕

Fr you should meet me there in like 30.

Brookee🐝

No shit?

Paige💕

Yeah i’ll see ya then

i swipe out of instagram and start pacing around my room, opening drawers and holding things up to my body.

“bee, cool it. paige is about to show up in team travel gear, so your sweatpants and cute ass tank top are fine. put on some mascara or something if it’ll help you chill, but you’ll look great.” taniya is a little psychotic most of the time, but she’s calm as fuck in these situations.

i twist my hair up into a clip and climb into my car, palms sweaty. i don’t know why i agreed, this is so creepy and random.

Paige💕

i’m otw, u almost there?

Brookee🐝

yeah almost, ps don’t text and drive

Paige💕

hypocrite

Brookee🐝

😔

“hey brooke!” i hear a voice from behind the booth im sitting in, nursing a sprite and a small fry.

“hi paige,” i say, grinning. she smiles back, and slides into the other side of the booth, then reaches over and takes one of my fries.

“get your own,” i chide, while sliding the fries closer to her. “besides that, why’d you randomly want to know what college i go to?”

she shifts in her seat. as she opens her mouth, a waitress comes by with a happy meal. paige opens it up and dumps her fries into the other end of the nugget box. before she eats, i quickly snap a picture.

“you don’t mind if i post this? it’s kinda how im paying for my guilty pleasures.”

she nods, “yeah, tag me. anyway, i asked you about what college you went to because i thought i knew you from somewhere, but i just could not figure out what. also, you’re like, really pretty so i wanted to talk to you.”

she blushes at the last part, which makes my cheeks go a bit pink.

“well, you’re not exactly bad looking yourself. when can i see you again, because it’s getting late and i want to see my bed,” i say. taniya would be proud of my straightforwardness.

“Well, i’ve got tickets to a Sun & Fever game for monday, and the person i was going with just bailed on me, so do you wanna come?”

i blink at paige in shock. i’ve literally known her in person for maybe twenty five minutes and she’s already offering me things?

“i mean, im not doing anything, and the Sun’s arena isn’t that far, is it?” i ask, hoping to get any more information on whatever she’s proposing.

“yeah, it’s probably only like an hour with traffic, but i can pick you up and drive you home if you want? or we can get a hotel? i have a hotel, but i can cancel it if you wanna you home, i just didn’t want to drive again after the game because leaving would be hell.”

i nod, hoping it looks cool and confident and not utterly confused.

“yeah, we can keep the hotel, it’s okay.”

“aight, i’ll get you on monday around three.”

paige walks me out to my car, and as i climb in, she grabs my hand and squeezes it. once i see that she’s gone, i call taniya.

“Bitch do i have so much to tell you.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #dancing with our hands tied #paige bueckers x influencer #paige bueckers x oc

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pellucid-constellations · 1 year ago

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angstober (2)

Prompt: "I want to believe you"

Pairing: college!athlete bucky x reader

A/n: This is the day four prompt so that I'm sorta following the timeline 😅 Enjoy more angst ♡

~~~

He was staring at you, eyes beseeching you for an ending you had no ability to provide. The phone—the awful, wretched thing—was still pressed to the skin of your hand, burning your fingers as the screen dimmed. You shouldn’t have looked. She had just gotten to you, riled you up enough yesterday to make you concerned.

“That’s not… it’s not—baby,” Bucky stressed. He had just woken up. His hair was endearingly messy, a big sweater shifting along his shoulders. If you weren’t so upset it would have had your heart melting.

“You told me it was nothing. That she was nothing,” you breathed out, pain lacing your throat as you spoke.

“It—she is! I don’t know what you’re seeing on there, but it’s not true.”

You bit into your bottom lip in an attempt to quell the onslaught of tears prying at your eyes. Bucky took a step towards you, cautious. You were in the doorway, he was in the bedroom. If you wanted to leave there was nothing stopping you.

“I want to believe you,” you choked out. “But I can’t. There is no other explanation for this, Bucky.”

Why you were being kind, you had no idea. You should be angry, enraged. Furious. But more than any of that, you were miserable. This man you were besotted by, his brow twisted into an uncomfortable shape, his eyes flickering with panic, he was all you had considered. It was a lot to put that on a college relationship, but there was no one else.

Bucky was so gentle with you. There was no one else in the world that knew how to kiss you right. No one that held you under the harsh lights of football stadiums and let you press your nose to their neck to warm it on those fall nights. There was no one able to distract you the way he did in the library, eyes boring into the side of your face without fail, smile small and private and years in the making.

There was no one that could have hurt you this much.

“What’re you seeing?” he asked, a rasp to his voice. The words were so small.

It was cruel to make you read it aloud, to make you look at the pictures again, but you did anyway. “I’m seeing your ex-girlfriend's nudes plastered all over your phone. I’m seeing her text from last night—‘can’t wait to do that again,’” your voice broke, tears stinging your eyes. “I can’t believe you. You said… you said—”

You couldn’t finish. It didn’t matter what Bucky had said—that he’d spun pretty words and promised you things that were impossible now. Your breathing was shallow as you flung his phone at the bed.

He was quick to grab it, head shaking as he scrolled through everything you’d already seen. “No,” he whispered. “No, this isn’t—sweetheart, I would never do anything like this. Not to you.”

You laughed, the sound wet and sardonic. “Well, you did. There’s no use acting like this, Bucky.”

It had been risky with Bucky, at the beginning. College athletes were always risky. You had pulled away after the first date, assuming that was it; it had been fun, but there was nothing else he could have possibly wanted. But then he'd asked you on another. And another. The relationship has snowballed into something unexpected. You went somewhere and he followed. He called you every night and you brought him dinner after every game.

This wasn’t something you had expected. Maybe a few years ago, but not now. This was unfair. It was agonizing.

Bucky threw the phone back down without a second glance at where it landed. He took long steps to meet you in the doorway, and even though you knew it wasn’t smart, you let him hold you. He pressed his forehead to yours, your wet cheeks brushing his, his eyes boring into yours.

This would be the last time.

“Listen to me,” he spoke, more determined than you had ever heard him. “I don’t have an explanation, I only have the truth I got, baby. I don’t know how any of that shit got on my phone or whatever she’s talking about. You know she’s been on one lately. You gotta believe me.”

A forlorn cry left your lips. Bucky was talking to you, but you were more concerned with the way he felt as he held you.

This would be the last time.

“You hearing me?” he asked, shifting to meet your gaze as it flew down to the floor. “Please, you gotta believe me. I love you so much, baby. Only you. There’s no one else in this goddamn world I would give that up for. After college, we're gonna go away, okay? Wherever I get drafted I’m taking you with me.”

Everyone had told you you were being dumb. That athletes wander. That they have millions of options and you were just the pick of the moment. You had defended Bucky to no end. How idiotic. How unfair.

A kiss pressed to your forehead, firm and steady from the way he held the sides of your head. Desperate.

This would be the last time.

“Say something. Anything. Please.”

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you whispered.

Later, much later, you’d learn that there were never any lies between the two of you. You’d learn that Bucky couldn’t explain because there was nothing he’d done. Getting someone’s phone was easy when they left it in a locker room all night. When they raced home to their girl after practice without a second glance at the thing.

But later wasn’t now. And now, you were gone.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #angstober 2023 #day 04 #bucky barnes drabble

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paradiseprincesss · 7 months ago

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Omg hi!!! I absolutely LOVED espresso it's so cute!! Would you be open to doing some major fluff with Jim (delinquent season)? Thanks so much!!!!

CPR - jim (delinquent season) x reader

hello lovely anon! THANK YOU! that means so much to me i appreciate your kind words! and yes, of course, we love love LOVE jim over here - he is criminally underrated. he's dreamy.

summary: after a shitty, messy, and rough divorce, jim is hesitant to love again - but he falls for a younger woman who changes his mind, and teaches him how to love again.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: so there is a large age gap (everyone is of legal age, jim is in his mid forties, reader is just described as 'in college,' so take that how you will), kissing, swearing, divorce, jim's employed as a professor but the reader isn't his student! other than that, no warnings just fluff lol

we don't chose who we fall in love with - at least, that's what jim always thought, and that's what he told himself.

jim never pictured himself to be the type of guy to date a younger woman, he always thought it was a little strange actually because what would someone his age have in common with someone roughly 20 years younger than him?

well, more than he thought.

he didn't intend on falling in love with you. he just...did. jim met you through a friend of his, weirdly enough. he had just finalized his divorce with his ex-wife, which was messy and screwed his perception of love up quite a bit - anyone would feel that way after finding out that their spouse of over a decade was having an affair.

so yeah, jim had some issues revolving around love.

with that being said, when an old college buddy of his (who he talked to a few times a year at most through facebook or text, and occasionally over the phone) had rung him up about how he had moved back to ireland and was having some old friends over for dinner just for old times sake, he figured sure, he'd go since he had nothing better to do.

fast forward to a week later, he showed up in his usual attire - casual slacks and sweater - and was greeted by a handful of his old college friends. jim couldn't lie - it was nostalgic, and frankly, kind of refreshing to be out socializing and living life again after his divorce. it had been a good 6 months since the divorce, and he was honestly feeling good for once.

"jim, hey!" his old college roommate, dan, greeted him at the door. "come on in, we're just having some beers in the living room, the games gonna be on soon."

the night went well, jim got to catch up with his old buddies from his college days, and they spent the evening drinking beers and fussing over the game on tv.

"so, i heard 'bout the ex-wife. hey, i'm sorry, man." another old acquaintance of his, ryan, had said to him.

jim laughed lightly, "s'alright. shit happens, i guess." to which all the other men just murmured and agreed with.

the conversations flowed well, and honestly - it felt good to rant about his ex-wife with some old buddies, and openly talk about his divorce like this - what she did was fucked up. he felt like he needed to and should be able to vent, too.

as the men were busy shouting at the tv, beers in hand, a softer voice called out, "dad?" and jim's buddy dan looked over his shoulder to see his daughter, standing in the doorway of the living room with a small smile.

jim looked away from the game momentarily, out of curiosity - and good god did his heart stop when he did. he was aware that dan had a daughter in college and he knew of her name, but he didn't realize how beautiful she was. the two of them locked eyes for a split second, and he looked away slightly embarrassed.

he didn't really know why he was embarrassed, it's not like he was doing anything shameful or wrong - but finding your friends daughter who was still a college student when he was in his forties was definitely wrong in a sense, well- to a certain degree.

"oh, hey sweetie, i didn't even realize you were still up." dan says to his daughter.

"it's only..." you pause, checking your phone, "half past eight, dad. plus, i'm stuck on this stupid essay my professor assigned to us yesterday." you laugh softly - lightheartedly, and jim felt his heart skip a few beats.

"oh, that's no good," dan says, "jim's a professor, i'm sure he won't mind if you asked him a few questions - maybe he can help you." your dad shrugs, looking at jim and then focusing back on the game.

you blush slightly, and you knew your dad was just being friendly and trying to be helpful - but suggesting you get his older (and really attractive!) friend who just so happened to be a professor to help you with your essay seemed...well, it was like one of those storylines you'd see in a movie, or a book...or something.

"um, dad, i'm sure jim doesn't want to step away from watching the game to help with homework-" you start to say, but in a moment of confidence (and a little alcohol), jim cut you off with a gentle tone.

"no- no, it's no worries, really. i was going to get up and grab another pint anyways." he says, getting up to go to the kitchen. you just walk with him into the kitchen, somewhat at a loss for words.

you get a better look at him under the dimmed kitchen lights, and you could already feel yourself getting nervous in his presence. you never found any of your dads friends attractive before - but jim, well, he was different.

the salt and pepper hair was...really hot. and god, those eyes. those glacier coloured eyes; you barely had a chance to even meet the man and somehow he had you in a chokehold before you spoke more than just a few sentences to each other.

"so," he broke the silence, "watcha studying?"

you quietly told him what you were majoring in, and he nodded, smiling at you softly, "well, i don't teach that particular subject or major - but i'll try and help you out regardless."

you retuned the small smile, "y-yeah, okay. cool."

for the next hour or so, the two of you sat closely next to one another at the dining table, your textbooks and papers sprawled out in front of you, with the doc you were writing open on your laptop. he helped you structure your essay and the two of you were about 80% done with it - that was until he requested that you turn back the page of your textbook.

"wait, go back to page 116 i think it says something about that at the bottom of the page." he tells you, reaching out to turn the pages back in the textbook. however, you also reached to turn the page back - causing the both of your hands to touch, to swiftly brush against each other.

with a small blush, you quickly pull back, still nervous. "sorry."

he laughs softly, shaking his head, "no need to be sorry."

taking a deep breath, you respond, "sorry- sorry, i keep saying sorry-"

"you okay?" he offers a gentle smile, and you felt your heart start racing a million miles per minute. you weren't one to get easily flustered like this - you never got this nervous, certainly not around guys your own age, at least.

jim didn't know why - but he felt the same way. however, he tried to play it cool. he had been on a few dates with a few different women here and there post divorce, but all of them were dead ends. however, with you, it almost felt like he had known you for a lifetime even though he had only just met you.

"yeah, just..." you trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words again. he looked at you with an expression that you couldn't quite read, and his gaze flickered to your lips - then back to your face. "just what?" he whispers to you, and you felt yourself drowning in his impossibly blue eyes.

suddenly, you felt his gentle hand on your thigh, and your breath hitched as he whispered to you again. "just what?"

"just kiss me." you whisper back, and with that, his hands were gently coming up to cup your face, and he kissed you softly.

you'd never kissed someone so much older than you before, and the thought of it made your head dizzy. after a moment, the both of you pulled away from the kiss, but his hand remained on your face.

"is it...is it strange if i ask you if i could take you out to dinner sometime?" he asks quietly, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the question.

"not at all, i'd love that." you smile at him.

again, falling in love wasn't part of the plan, but jim didn't really have a choice when it came to you. it just happened so naturally.

"sweetheart?' you hear his voice call out softly and the sound of the door closing, and you turn around to see him coming home from work - god, you loved when he wore his little sweaters with the sleeves rolled up half way - it really got you going.

"baby, hi." you greet him softly, bundled up in a blanket on the couch of his living room. "how was work?"

he slumps down beside you, pulling you into him softly with a sigh, kissing the top of your head. "it was alright, finished teaching my lecture earlier than expected so that was good." he tells you, voice gentle and tone loving.

"mm, well i'm glad to have you home early." you tell him sweetly, pulling him into a chaste kiss.

"what would you like for dinner, sweetheart?" he asks you, and you shrug, "jim, you worked all day, you don't have to make dinner it's fine." to which he shook his head and insisted, "how about some pasta?"

"jim," you whine softly, "you're so cute, i love you."

"i love you too, honey." he says, kissing you again.

after the date you two had, things just seemed to flow effortlessly. you'd never been with an older man before - and he was so very attentive to your every need, every want, every boundary you had - he took things slow with you, never ever pressuring you into anything.

now, six months later, you and jim had been dating for a few months, while you were still adjusting to dating someone roughly 20 years your senior - it was something you wouldn't change.

jim felt the same way - things were different with you. being with a younger woman was fun, it was new. you taught him things as much as he taught you things. with his ex-wife, there was no trust. no real love. no meaning to life, even though the two of them had kids together, it didn't change the fact that he always felt like he was married to someone he didn't know - a stranger.

you weren't a stranger, though - no, you were quite the opposite to him. you made him feel at home, you were his home. he often found himself wondering where he'd be if you weren't by his side. probably gone, he thinks.

after dinner and a steamy shower together, the two of you laid in his bed together, your head on his chest and his arms holding you in a warm embrace.

"...i want you to meet my kids." he suddenly tells you, and you turn your head to look up at him with love in your eyes, "yeah?" you whisper, causing him to whisper back a quiet "yeah" back to you.

he softly takes your hand and intertwines it with his own, a content sigh leaving his lips. "would you ever want to get married again?" you ask quietly - not even sure why you felt the sudden urge to ask that, but you did anyway.

he was quiet for a moment.

jim never thought he would re-marry, in fact, he didn't even think he'd ever find someone that he would want to marry after his ex-wife. but that was before he found you.

"i wouldn't ask you to meet my kids if i didn't plan on marrying you." he finally says, pulling you even closer. your breath hitched when he confessed that, and you felt yourself blushing a little too. "you mean that?" you ask him, to which he squeezed your hand.

"you made me love again - i sound corny, but i'm dead serious. i was at the end, then you came into my life... you made me feel like there was life worth living."

"oh, jim," you whisper, a little breathless at his continuous admissions about how much he loved you, "you're my everything."

he looked at you with admiration, and smiled softly at you. you were his everything, too. he often wondered if you knew that. if you knew how much he adored you. in a world where he felt like nobody understood him - you did. you were the only one he ever confided in.

your love fixed all his pain, your love fixed his heart - and you didn't even know. you didn't even know how much you were fixing a heart that you didn't break.

he felt like he was revived in a sense - brought back to life from the dead. brought back from his inevitable death of a marriage that had minced his heart. but now, things were different because he had you.

and you - you were the only thing that could jumpstart his flatlining heart again - like CPR.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #jonathan crane x f!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #jim the delinquent season #jim delinquent season #jim delinquent season x reader #jim x reader #the delinquent season imagine #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #robert fischer imagine

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daisies-daydreams · 1 year ago

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…I know I just submitted one..BUT Miguel O’Hara and his busy busy self 😇🙏 so he’s at his desk being all grumpy and stuff totally focused and we are at home all bored and sad cause Miguel hasn’t came home so we get frisky and put on his white button up and send some scandalous pictures. We get left on DELIVERED. NOT EVEN SEEN. So we get a bit angry and sad so we get dressed and drag our asses to his office (with the bracelet we suddenly obtained..that he knows nothing about..) BUT WE COME BEARING GIFTS. Comida. And love. And lust. We go to him and nuzzle him and he’s still being a grumpy shit so we sit on his lap and grip his cheeks. We force feed the shit outta him bc he’s our baby and WE GOTTA FEED HIM. HES OUR BIG BOY. So we feed him and he’s grateful but bc he’s a tease he says how we shouldn’t disrupt him. We scratch his head soothingly and tell him we love him. Then like we stay like that for a while and he grabs his phone. He sees the raunchy photos and smut ensues. He claims that we are sluts and that we should’ve waited for him. degradation and praise. Also Miguel saying how we really ruined his work just for a quick fuck and how pathetic that is. And just for comedic relief..Lyla sees the aftermath and Miguel gets flustered.

Distraction (Miguel O’Hara x F!Plus-Sized!Reader)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Plus-Sized!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut w/ Angst Throughout (18+) Warnings: Sexting, Swearing, Praise/Degradation Kink (Use of 'Slut', 'Cocksleeve', 'Fuck Toy'), Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected P in V Sex (you know the drill), Full Nelson, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Miguel Being a Meanie Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Hello hello! I'm so glad to get another Miguel O'Hara request (I personally loved working on this spicy fic 🥴). I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Tonight was supposed to be different.

Miguel was supposed to walk through the door, exhausted yet relieved to finally be home. The two of you were supposed to sit down and have some home-cooked food, discussing the ins and outs of your respective days. You were supposed to do the dishes together, maybe dance a little in the kitchen, before making your way to the bedroom. And to top it off, the two of you were supposed to make sweet, tender love for hours before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

...That’s how it was supposed to go.

Instead, you reluctantly ate dinner by yourself after waiting for him for over an hour. Your body felt unbearably heavy as you put the rest of the food away and tucked the dishes into the dishwasher. You sighed when you stepped into the bedroom and flopped down onto your cold bed. Your eyes stung as you gripped the comforter, your jaw hurting from how tightly you clenched it.

It wasn’t fair.

Miguel promised you he’d be here tonight on time. He even texted you earlier that he had “one more thing” before he left work. It's felt like forever since the two of you had a nice night to yourselves. You sniffed as tears poured down your puffy cheeks and soaked the blanket. The room was filled with your quiet, muffled cries for a while before your phone buzzed. You pulled your head up and snatched your phone, a small glimmer of hope shining through before you looked at your screen. You scowled as you glanced at the notification for your email.

“Why am I not surprised?” you muttered bitterly as you tossed your phone across the bed. You sighed as you fell back down on your back, eyes set on your shared closet. You huffed as you skimmed over the organized rows of Miguel’s shirts and jackets. Your scowl melted a little at the memory of you strutting around your apartment wearing nothing but one of his massive t-shirts.

You laughed softly as you remembered his red, flustered face when you bent down to pick up your phone after you “accidentally” dropped it. Needless to say, the two of you almost had to buy a new sofa after he...

Wait a second.

You slowly sat up again as an idea crossed your mind. You smiled deviously and bit your lip. You grabbed your phone and slipped your feet onto the cold, hardwood floor. Maybe Miguel needed a little more…convincing for him to finally come home. You hummed and swayed your hips as you flicked on the light switch to the closet. Your heart skipped a beat as filed through several of his shirts. Your eyes lit up when you grabbed a crisp, white button-up.

“Just you wait, Miguel O’Hara,” you chuckled as you pulled it from the hanger. You quickly padded over to the full-length mirror in the corner of your room and stripped yourself of your t-shirt and sweats, kicking them to the side along with your panties and bra. You bit your lip as you slipped your arms through the sleeves of Miguel’s button-up. You tugged at the bottom of the shirt and swayed side to side, wondering what your first pose should be.

A smirk eventually crossed your face as you opened your phone. You turned around and showed off your curvaceous bum. You glanced over your shoulder with a shy, half-lidded gaze as you arched your spine. You nearly squealed excitedly after taking the picture when you thought of another pose.

You turned around to face the mirror again, this time pushing the sides of the button-up away to reveal your breasts. Your nipples hardened against the cool air as you puffed out your chest. You squeezed your thighs together before looking up, your eyes just barely peeking past the top of your phone as you snapped the picture.

You giggled as you looked at the photos before one last pose came to mind. You shifted your thighs together while turning towards the bed. You grunted as you adjusted yourself on the edge of the mattress, gazing at your naked reflection in the mirror. The sheets rustled as you spread your legs apart and dug your heels against the edge of the bed. You bit your lip as you spread your puffy labia apart, revealing your tight, juicy hole. You exhaled quietly as you took the last picture, a ripple of pleasure and excitement coursing down your spine.

You nearly fell as you scrambled to the bathroom to quickly wash your hands. Your cheeks were growing warmer by the second as you grabbed your phone and quickly typed a message:

I feel so alone, bebé. Won’t you come home and give me some company? 🥺😘

You sighed and fell back onto the mattress after you hit “send”. Thoughts of him seeing the photos crossed your mind. You wiggled a bit when you imagined him stroking his thick cock as he stared at your exposed, slick cunt. Your excitement dulled with every minute that passed without his reply.

You nearly fell asleep before a sudden crack of thunder shook the apartment building. You jumped up and looked around wildly, hands bracing against your comforter. You sighed as heavy raindrops pounded against the windows, the neon lights of the city blurred behind your holographic curtains. You yawned and rubbed your eyes as you reached for your phone. You instantly gritted your teeth when you opened your messages.

Delivered 7:04 PM

It was almost 8:30 PM. You shucked off his shirt with a short huff before stomping back over to the closet. You rapidly tossed aside several of your clothes before your eyes landed on a short, black cocktail dress. The corners of your mouth turned up as you bit your lip.

If only Miguel knew what you had in store for him…

•••

Your black heels clacked against the polished floors of the Spider Society’s HQ as you swayed your hips side to side. A few Spider-People brushed past you, some turning their heads as you continued your determined stroll towards Miguel's lair. You hummed to yourself as you held a bag in the crook of your elbow, the smell of empanadas lingering everywhere you walked. You nearly jumped back when a small, yellow hologram of a young woman jumped in front of you.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. He’s in a mood tonight,” Lyla explained while pointing down the dark hall with her thumb. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“When is he not in a mood?" you replied. She pursed her lips. "Besides-I just wanted to bring him some food,” you said as you pulled out the plastic container full of empanadas. Lyla leaned forward stroked her chin contemplatively.

“Well…he hasn’t eaten in a while,” she reasoned aloud. You raised a brow at the AI. “Alright! Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Lyla said while holding her hands up. You smiled as she dissipated, turning your attention back to the long, dark hallway in front of you. Your heart skipped as beat as you stepped forward, the low humming of the electronics around you sending a shiver down your spine. It took a few minutes to trek down the hall, but eventually you walked through the wide opening to his lair.

You gasped when you gazed at the wide expanse of room, several different machines whirring and shifting around in unison. You slowly craned your neck up, sighing and shaking your head as you watched Miguel mechanically scroll through various holographic monitors.

“How did you get in here?” he huffed as he flicked two of his fingers across the largest screen and enlarged the video. You frowned as you rested your free hand on your hip.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” you clicked your tongue. Your lover paused before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You took the spare I had in my nightstand, didn’t you?” Miguel droned.

“Maybe,” you replied with a straight face. The large man grumbled.

“I don’t have time for your games. What do you want?” he grunted while waving his hand. You rolled your eyes at his abrasive tone.

“I just wanted to give my cariño some homemade empanadas,” you sang as you held up the bag. Miguel paused and turned his head.

“Empanadas?” he asked with a curious tone.

“Mhm,” you said as you took a step closer. The large man floating on the platform above you clenched and unclenched his fists as he turned around. You frowned when you saw his face: the bags under his eyes were dark and vibrant, his cheek bones protruding out more than usual.

“Fine,” he muttered as he slapped a button. You smiled triumphantly as the platform began to lower…centimeter by centimeter.

“Can you make it go any-“

“No. It only has one mode,” he replied bluntly. You raised a brow.

“You have the ability to create a trans-dimensional watch…and yet you made a platform with just one mode?” you piqued. Miguel narrowed his dark, crimson eyes.

“Do you want me to come down or not?” he asked. You sighed and tapped your foot as you waited. The platform eventually eased its way down before resting on the floor with a tired sigh. You sashayed over to him, your ass nearly spilling out of your tight dress as you stepped onto the platform. You frowned as Miguel went back to shifting through the various monitors, his bloodshot eyes locked on the giant screens in front of him.

“You can just leave the food on the desk. I'll be home after finishing this,” he grunted. You shook your head as you gently slid your hand over his wrist. Miguel blinked before drawing his gaze to your bright, half-lidded eyes.

“I have a better idea,” you murmured as you leaned closer. He tensed as you suddenly climbed onto his lap, spreading your thick thighs over his while smoothing your hand over his wide chest.

“(Y/N),” he said in a warning tone, his cheeks filling with a deep, rosy pink.

“Miguel,” you mimicked before tossing the bag to the floor. You quickly pulled the lid off the container, the savory aroma of the turnovers wafting through the air. You smirked as Miguel’s pupils slightly enlarged as steam rose up from the delicious, fried food. You cooed when you heard his stomach gurgle.

“You poor thing. You must be so hungry after working for so long,” you frowned. Miguel swallowed thickly as he tightened his lips. “C’mon hermoso-déjame alimentarte,” you whispered as you pinched his cheek [handsome; let me feed you]. He frowned as you pulled out one of the empanadas and traced it against his pouty lips.

“I know you want it,” you teased as you fully sank down onto his lap, grinding your ass against the top of his thighs. Miguel’s eye twitched as you continued to draw the corner of the empanada along his lips.

“(Y/N),” he grunted. You frowned and rubbed your other hand up and down his chest.

“Please Migs? I made them just for you,” you pouted and fluttered your lashes. Your lover sighed.

“Hijo de...alright. Fine,” he said with annoyed defeat. You smiled and lightly pinched his cheek again, making his frown deepen even more.

“Open wide,” you sang. Miguel scoffed.

“Ay coño. I’m not a baby, (Y/N),” he scowled. His eyes widened as you slowly pushed a bit of the golden, crispy empanada into his mouth. He moaned a little as you let the savory food linger on his tastebuds.

"There you go," you cooed. You wiped some crumbs from his mouth as he chewed, his cheeks flushing with pink at your simple touch. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he finally swallowed.

“So?” you asked. Miguel poked his tongue against his cheek.

“Good,” he replied bluntly.

“Just good?” you hummed as you brought the empanada back to his mouth. Miguel grunted he took another bite.

“What do you want me to say? Everything you make is excellent,” he said with a small smile. Your smile softened as you blushed.

“Gracias, mi amor,” you breathed as you wiped away some more crumbs [Thank you, my love]. You continued to feed him, his muscles relaxing with every bite he took. You heard his stomach growl again just as he finished swallowing his last bite.

“You want some more?” you asked as you already grabbed another empanada.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. You smiled and pressed the second empanada to his mouth. Miguel parted his lips as you fed him, your other hand stroking up and down his chest all the while. He sighed when you threaded your fingers through his dark, messy hair and lightly scratched his scalp.

His hands slowly came down to rest on your waist as he hummed in satisfaction with his final bite. You smiled and rested your head in the crook of his neck, relishing in the warmth of his chiseled body.

"Thank you for the meal, hermosa," he muttered [beautiful]. You nodded and traced your fingers a through his thick hair. “You know, I should’ve come home when I said I would,” Miguel sighed heavily. You tilted your head up and met his solemn gaze. “Maybe...maybe I've been working a bit too much,” he mumbled. His eyes softened as you cupped his cheek.

“I'm worried about you, Miguel,” you confessed.

“Cariño, I’ll be fine,” he assured you [Honey]. He frowned as tears welled in your eyes. “Hey…” Miguel said as he brushed his thumb across your cheek.

“Y-You haven’t taken care of yourself for the past few months. You never really come back to the apartment, and when you do you’re always so exhausted,” your voice shook. Miguel watched you silently as he kept his hand on your hips. “I love you, Miguel, and it breaks my heart to see you like this,” you sniffed as you gripped his suit. You stiffened when he suddenly pulled your chest flush against his as he buried his face into your neck.

“I’m sorry, cariño. I had no idea you felt this way,” Miguel said while wrapping his sturdy arms around your smaller frame. You nodded and squeezed him tighter. “But you understand why I have to be away so much, right?” he asked softly. Your bottom lip quivered as your heart sank.

“I-I do,” you said in a broken whisper. You took a deep breath as you pulled back, making sure to lock eyes with your lover. “Miguel…please promise me that you’ll at least try to take better care of yourself. For me…please…” you breathed as your puffy eyes glossed over. Miguel frowned as he wiped a loose tear trickling down your cheek.

“I’ll try,” he said with a gentle smile. You sniffed and nodded. He kissed the crown of your head as he rubbed your lower back.

“Gracias, bebé,” you murmured, your lips brushing over his collarbone. The two of you continued to hold each other for what felt like hours, your warm bodies pressed against each other in a quiet bliss. Your eyes snapped open when you eventually felt something hard brush against your crotch. A small squeak left you as Miguel squeezed your love handles.

“You know…you have been pulling me away from my work for quite some time,” he murmured playfully before squeezing your waist again, his lips dancing over your ear. You bit your lip and gripped his broad shoulders as you felt his cock twitch beneath you. “You've been quite the distraction, conejita,” he clicked his tongue as he slid his hand down your upper thigh. You gave a cheeky smile before wrapping your hands around the back of his neck.

“I can think of a few more ways to distract you,” you whispered as you arched your back. A low rumble came from his chest as he inhaled sharply, his crimson eyes lit with a burning desire.

"That's very tempting, but-" he was cut off when his phone started to vibrate. Your eyes widened as he reached over. Miguel sighed. "Sorry-my phone's been on Do Not Disturb for a while. I just need to check it for a second,” your lover said.

“O-Oh” you squeaked. Miguel smirked as he picked up his phone.

“Why are being so shy all of the sudden, hm?” he mused while opening his messages. You ducked your head into his massive shoulder just as his breath hitched.

“¿Qué es esto?" he piqued as he squeezed your leg [What is this?]. Your face swelled with heat as you remained stiff in his hold. You squeaked as he cupped your ass and tenderly squeezed one of your cheeks. "These are some very naughty pictures, princessa,” Miguel murmured as he kneaded your asscheek in his rough, calloused hand [princess]. “‘I feel so alone, bebé. Won’t you come home and give me some company?’” he read with a raised brow. You blushed as you felt his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“¿Oh conejita...qué voy a hacer contigo?” he sighed as he bunched up the skirt of your dress [Oh bunny...what am I going to do with you?]. You shivered as the cool air fell over your exposed skin, your thong barely covering your dripping, puffy folds. Your legs shook as he dipped his fingers past the soaked fabric of your panties and teasingly rubbed at your labia.

“Puta. You should've waited for me,” he chastised [Slut]. You mewled as he scissored your folds apart with his thick fingers. You swallowed while gently bucking against his hand.

"L-Lo siento, Papi," you whined while humping his hand like a dog in heat [I'm sorry, Daddy]. Miguel rumbled as he slowly pushed two of his massive digits past the rim of your entrance.

"’Sorry’ won't do you any good now, muñeca," he husked into your ear [doll]. You choked as he spread your tight hole, shallowing pumping the pads of his fingers in and out with short, languid strokes. He licked lips. "That's what you are, right? Why else would you come in here wearing your shiny heels and tight, slutty dress?" Miguel whispered before pushing his fingers all the down to his knuckles. You gasped and clawed at his suit as he filled you to the brim.

"Mi lindo juguete para follar," Miguel grunted [My cute fuck toy].

“Papi," you whined as he curled his digits against your spongey g-spot, a spark of pleasure bursting through your dripping sex. Your walls tightened around his thick fingers as he pressed his soft lips to your temple. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out of your gummy walls. You panted and moaned as you rubbed your raw clit against the bottom of his hand, smearing your slick all over his palm. You gasped when you felt his other hand snatch the zipper of your dress.

"Did you really want to come take care of me, or were you just this desperate for my cock?" Miguel groaned against your neck as he peeled the zipper down.

"I-I wanted to take care of you-promise!" you keened. You moaned and rocked your hips in time with the pumping of his digits as the top of your dress fell down, revealing your skimpy bra. His eyes lit up when he saw your breasts jiggle with each shaky breath you took.

Miguel smirked before pressing a soft peck to the top of your cleavage. You moaned as he messily kissed down the space between your two tits, his fingers rubbing your walls even faster. He met your gaze just as your warm pussy began to flutter around his digits. You whined when he pulled his fingers out, leaving your hole a stretched out, drooling mess.

“Turn around, bebé,” he rasped before spanking your ass. Your legs trembled as you slowly turned around and steadied yourself on his lap, your dress shifting down your plush rolls. He kept your legs spread wide for him before he steadied his hands on your hips.

You gasped when you saw a quick flash of light before his massive length sprang free from his suit. Your core fluttered when his burning shaft slapped against your pussy, his flush tip smearing pre-cum over your sensitive clit. Your mind reeled as he slowly rocked your hips forward, glazing the top of his meaty cock with your juices. Miguel shoved his face against your neck and inhaled deeply and spread your pussy lips apart with his thick, veiny cock. You whined and curled your toes.

“Please Papi,” you cried as your pussy slobbered all over his dick. His deep chuckling made your walls clench.

“‘Please’ what, (Y/N)?” Miguel purred. You swallowed and gritted your teeth as his member throbbed against your sex.

“Please…I-I need your cock inside me, por fa,” you gulped [please]. You hissed when he paused, his meaty length resting against your needy cunt.

“Is that all?” he teased. You flared your nostrils.

“Please fuck me hard with your thick cock, Miguel!” you begged and desperately ground your aching pussy against his length. You gasped when he wrapped his burly arms beneath your knees and pushed your legs up. “M-Miguel!” you squealed as your giant lover made your back become flush against his front.

“Arms behind my neck, mi amor,” he instructed. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you did as you were told, making sure to lock your fingers together. Your eyes widened as he stood up, the head of his cock teasing your tight entrance as he steadied his feet.

“If you’re going to come in here dressing and acting like a slut…” all breath was punched out of your lungs as he sank you down on his girthy member in one swift motion. Your body had little time to adjust before he raised you up again. “…then I might as well fuck you like one,” Miguel finished as he slammed you back down. You couldn’t hold back your moans as began to snap his hips up at a brutal pace. Your body bounced and jiggled as he spread your tight hole wide open with quick, sloppy thrusts.

“M-Miguel, fuck,” you moaned as you felt his dick massage every inch of your tight, gummy walls. You dug your nails into the back of his thick neck as he panted wildly, his hot breath fanning over your pulse.

“Mierda-you wrap around my dick so perfectly,” he moaned while squeezing the back of your knees. [Shit]. You whimpered in reply, your mind becoming too drunk on the pleasure that throbbed from your stretched cunt to give a proper response. You squealed as Miguel wrapped his lips over your neck and sucked over your pulse. You mewled as your hard nipples rubbed against the inside of your bra with every thrust.

“Mmm, love how you drench my cock,” he groaned against your fresh, wet hickey. You knitted your brows as your puffy clit throbbed and walls clenched. He grunted as your pussy gripped his veiny length.

“Yes, that’s it-make sure you keep hugging me just like that,” Miguel rasped. Hot tears of bliss seeped from your eyes as he sank you down effortlessly. “My sweet little cocksleeve-all for me to use and fuck and fill with my cum,” he moaned as he wildly thrusted into you.

“Fuck,” you sobbed as you felt the muscles in the pit of your belly start to tighten. Miguel grunted as your pussy gripped his girth.

“You’re going to cum already?” he laughed. Your face burned as you bit your lip. “We’ve only been going for a few minutes-surely you can last a little longer,” Miguel hummed. Your chest burned at the fact that he had so much control while you were quickly becoming a drooling, fuck-out mess in his arms. You panted and squeezed your eyes shut as you desperately tried to stave off your orgasm.

“I-I can’t help it! Feels too good, Papi!” you whined. Your eyes grew wide when you felt something cold press against your clit. You gasped when you saw a long, hard-light appendage start to rub tight circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Miguel smirked against your neck as he continued to use you as his personal flesh-light.

“Never thought I’d use my suit upgrade for this,” he confessed with an amused grin. You rolled your head back against his chest as it continued to massage your clit while his cock mercilessly dragged along your gummy walls. You squeaked when he spread your legs further apart, your muscles burning in a painfully delicious way.

“Tell me princessa: who does this pretty pussy belong to?” Miguel snarled. You sobbed and thrashed your head around as you found yourself rushing towards the edge of your release.

“Y-You!” you screamed. Your lover clicked his tongue as he slowed down his movements, drawing a high-pitched whine from you.

“Come now: you know better,” he rumbled. You blinked away hot tears as your chest quickly rose and fell.

“P-Papi owns this pussy!” you gasped. Your jaw went slack as he pounded into you again, your inhibitions thrown out the window as you screamed his name.

“Good girl-good fucking girl,” Miguel panted as he raked his teeth over your neck. Your entire body stiffened as you threw your head against his shoulder.

“P-Papi!” you cried out as you arched your back. Stars flooded your vision as your body trembled with pure, unforgiving bliss. Your walls contracted around Miguel’s cock as he kept pumping into your slick, tight pussy.

“Mierda,” he sucked in a sharp breath as you gripped his neck for dear life while your orgasm tore you apart. You babbled as a ring of cream gushed from between your two sexes and seeped down his shaft.

“Miguel,” you murmured as a string of drool fell past the corner of your lips, your high leaving only static humming through your brain. You moaned softly as your pussy convulsed for the last time, sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your nervous system. Miguel panted as he kept you flush against his large, chiseled body.

“Estoy aquí, bebé,” he breathed before pecking along your neck [I’m here, baby]. Your mind reeled at the sound of drenched “plaps” each time he brought his hips up. “You’ve made quite the mess on my cock, conejita,” he teased. You blushed and lowered your head. Miguel clicked his tongue.

“Ah, ah-I want you to keep your head up for me while I stuff you full of my cum,” he demanded. You shivered as his cock pistoned into your oversensitive sex, each stroke making your walls flutter and thighs clench. You gulped as you tilted your head up, the appendage still working on massaging and gripping your puffy clit with rapid strokes. Miguel sighed.

“You know, you really ruined my work flow-coming in here for a quick fuck,” he huffed. You whined at his words. “I can't think of anything more pathetic,” Miguel scoffed with a wide smirk. The tips of your ears burned as your pussy fluttered around his shaft, arousal coursing through your veins. Miguel sighed. “However...I also can’t help but want nothing more than for you to cum on my cock again before I fill you up,” he grunted. You arched your back as the appendage was nearly vibrating as it circled your clit.

“Fuck, Papi!” you mewled loudly as you felt the muscles in your lower tummy start to tighten all over again. Miguel grunted as he felt your cunt start to squeeze him in a vice grip.

"Say my name when you cum," he growled. You nearly choked on your own spit as your jaw went slack, the band deep inside you quickly snapping in two.

"Miguel!" you screamed as your walls convulsed around his massive girth, your vision clouded with white. Miguel growled as your cunt sucked him all the way against your bruised cervix, your walls eagerly gripping to his twitching length.

"Sí Sí Sí," he rasped as his thrusts began to stutter. You grew limp in Miguel's grasp as he heaved.

"Shit, I'm close. F-Fuck, (Y/N)!” he roared as he sank you down on his cock for the last time. Your eyes rolled back as he filled you, soaking the inside of your pretty cunt with his thick, milky white cum. Both of you moaned each other’s names as his cock throbbed and swelled inside your tight cunt. You gasped as hot ropes of his spend flooded your swollen walls.

“T-Take it. Take all of me,” Miguel panted as he rolled his hips, your pussy squelching as he continued to stuff you. Your greedy cunt milked him dry as his balls twitched beneath your puffy lower lips. Both of you panted as you caught your breaths, bodies swimming in the afterglow of your highs.

“You took me so well, cariño,” he purred before pecking the crown of your head. You gasped as he rolled his hips forward. "However, I'm afraid our night isn't over yet," Miguel husked. A sudden flicker of light grabbed your attention as Lyla appeared. The AI crossed her arms as she wore a cat-like grin.

“Damn, Miguel. You really put that porno you watched earlier to good use!” she mused while lowering her sunglasses. Your jaw immediately dropped as Miguel’s eyes widened. He gritted his teeth and furrowed his thick, dark brows as she faded away with a mischievous cackle.

“LYLA!” he bellowed.

————

Thank you for reading! 💖

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bellewintersroe · 1 year ago

Text

Charles Leclerc smut x reader - part 1

Little bit different from my normal writing, but I’ve been obsessed with f1 atm and can’t seem to shake the thirst for the drivers 😬 so anyway here’s a Charles smut x Vasseur! Daughter. Don’t know if this will hit the target audience but it’s fine!

this hasn’t been proof read so could be kinda shit.

Jenny never had a good relationship with her father, the current principle of Ferrari. He’s brought her to many of the 2023 Grand Prix races in order to bond, however she seems to have turned her efforts elsewhere when she meets a certain driver who can’t seem to keep his eyes off her. Their relationship is forbidden, hidden make out sessions, late night drives, the two are getting closer and closer until neither of them can handle the tension between one another.

“Looks cold.” I commented, half distracted as the Monegasque struggled to lower himself into the ice-bath. Fuck, he was so sexy. My eyes dropped down to Charles’ bare torso, he was so toned, his tan skin was smooth and I wanted to run my hand down there so bad. His chest rose and fell heavily, fast enough to get my imagination racing.

“Probably because it is!” Charles teased back, letting out several gasps that had me turning away in order to rid the dirty thoughts from my mind. I couldn’t control my mind around Charles, we’d been getting closer for the past two months, out of the four we’d known one another. Secret, friendly drives and late night takeaways turned into heated make out sessions in hotel corridors and, tense, sex fuelled texts from one another’s rooms when our hands were the only tools to satisfy our own cravings. If it wasn’t for my dad, Frederic Vasseur, principle of Ferrari, and therefore Charles’ borderline manager- or whatever you wanted to call him- I was positive I’d have had Charles in the way I wanted several times at this point.

Growing up I’d loved attending races, placing in the cars, I enjoyed being around here, but living in England with my mum strained my relationship with my father, my teenage years having interests elsewhere than race tracks and cars. This year, I’d made the effort to follow my dad around and Ferrari, accepting his invitation and staying with my 3 siblings and step-mum. I was glad I did, not only for the family time, but for the fact I’d met Charles. Wondering off, I didn’t really know where to linger, none of my family were here, so I just kinda stood on my phone inside, revealing a text from Charles before I’d seen him outside. Let’s go for a drive tonight?

Smiling, I was quick to text back in agreement before I scrolled up ever so slightly. Sexts. Fuck, intimate, graphic pictures, I ignored my own and glanced over Charles’s, pulling my phone closer to me so nobody could see. Not that there was anybody about. Pictures of his cock, exposed, hidden beneath his boxers, strained under a towel, wrapped in his hand- I had to quickly flick off the chat to control my breathing. How I needed him, so desperately, I’d yet to see him naked in real, I’d yet to touch him. The video he sent me from the night before plagued my mind, the way his breath trembled as he jerked himself off, how he’d spat into his palm, lubricating himself and, how he’d moaned and gasped my name as he came over his bare torso. My stomach churned with butterflies, my hand scraped through my hair, fidgeting as I let out a quick exhale through my nose. I was officially sex deprived. Turning down to my phone, I started texting Charles again, not knowing if he’d see it or not. I really need you

Much to my surprise, he read the message almost instantly. He must be out of his ice-bath already. Why, are you okay??? I physically face palmed at his message, feeling a slight humiliation covet my face. Maybe if I dirty talked in the small amount of French I knew he’d actually take the hint? I don’t mean it like that hahaha

Where are you? I see you

Glancing up from my phone, I noticed the shirtless boy walking towards home, glimpsing behind him to see if anybody followed. “You thought I was hurt?” I giggled when he got closer, biting down on my lip as he placed a hand on my lower back. “I am an idiot.” He laughed, his accent thick. “I know.” I hummed out, gazing up to him as his eyes lingered over me.

He moved down, pressing a kiss to the side of my forehead before his other hand ran over the back of my hip. “This way, my love.” He sweetly spoke as I felt that familiar pulsating in my core. Fuck, I needed him, and I needed him now.

I didn’t ask any questions, I just allowed him to lead me down past the gym and into a small changing room. I could feel my breathing grow heavy, the anticipation of being completely and utterly alone being too much as I spun around as soon as the door was shut. “Charles.” I whispered, a little breathy as I slid my hands over his shoulders, simultaneously clashing our lips together. His hands were still holding my hips, the front now, smoothing over my white summer dress that was maybe a little too short.

“I needed you so bad.” I practically whined, pressing our bodies closer together as his fingers tightened over my hips. “Fuck, in here?!” He whispered, the kiss breaking apart for a second as we stared back to one another with the same wild look in our eyes. “Please.” I hushed, bucking my hips a little into his as his eyes fluttered shut, hearing him let out a small breath. “I thought about you all day in this dress.” Charles muttered, pushing my head back into a bruising kiss. “Mmmh.” I hummed, hungrily against his mouth. “What about?” I giggled, desperate to hear more of his dirty words. My hand smoothed down his front, knowing we didn’t have much time and rested over his lower abdomen. Charles gulped harshly, lips grazing over mine.

“You are a dirty girl, wanting to hear about it all, yes?” He let out a breathless laugh as I giggled, nodding and leaving a second lingering kiss on his mouth. When I retracted, he attempted to move closer again, letting out a noise of discontent when I moved away from the kiss he chased. “Oui.” I teased as he smirked. “Oh, tu veux le faire en français?” I vaguely recognised he was asking if I wanted to do this in French. “Mmmh.” I agreed, feeling one of his hands fall down as he smoothed over the curve of my ass.

Charles lowered his head, dipping it into the crook of my neck as I swallowed, letting out a breathy moan at the sensitivity I felt when he trailed his lips over my exposed skin. “Tu veux entendre parler de toutes les choses sales que j'ai pensé de toi?” He hummed as I simultaneously let out a moan at his French tongue, whispering into my ear. I was entirely too distracted to translate what he was saying. “God.” I gasped out, head lolling back, the tension thick between us as he pressed my hips into his. “Don’t run away.” He borderline tutted, attaching our lips again. This time, the kiss was deep and there was no breaking apart, Charles stumbled back, into the wall, stumbling around as he hummed lowly, running his hands over my back, pinching my ass and pulling it desperately into his already hard front. “I wanted to get up this skirt all…” I felt him wince when he couldn’t think of the word. “Day?” I giggled. “Day.” He breathily laughed, kissing me gently. “Since you sent me those pictures.” His hand reached down to the bare of my leg, smoothing over my thigh and up my skirt.

“So, so sexy.” He hummed, fingers grazing over my core, top to bottom, all the way to the top of my pubic mound, over the slit. My hips bucked at the sensitivity, it had been a while since anybody other than myself had touched there. And now Charles was the one running his fingers over me, my pussy ached for him. I didn’t think I could be patient, Charles and I took a second to glance at once another before he now nudged me back into the wall, the kiss becoming heavy and sloppy as he breathed harshly against my lips, pushing his fingers into my thongs as his rough fingertips rubbed over my wetness, sliding easily against my throbbing clit.

“Si humide, putain, j'ai tellement besoin de toi.” He borderline whimpered as my hand wrapped around his clothed cock. He was rock hard, he felt so big against my small hands, and as I rubbed my hand up and down, Charles’ breathing grew heavier. “I need you too.” I choked out, letting a soft gasp escape my lips when his fingers pressed down harder on my sensitivity. “Fuck.” I whimpered out. “Please, I need you to fuck me.” My head fell against his shoulder as he nudged my face up with his. “Are you sure?” “Yeah.” I nodded, surely, his hand creeping out of my underwear, resting on my exposed hip. “Just take me here, please, we can make up for it later.” I squeezed the tip of his cock as he choked out a French curse word. “C’mere.” Charles then quickly ushered, lowering himself down onto the bench as I was quick to follow, watching him pull out his cock. He was just as big in real life compared to the numerous pictures and videos he sent me. I wanted to taste him. Just as I was ready to get on my knees his hand stopped me by the elbows.

“Non, non. You wont do that the first time we sleep together.” He insisted, pulling me on top. “I don’t have much time.” Charles admittied, guiding me to climb on top, knees either side of him. It was the first time we’d been in this position, and I could feel myself growing a little red in the cheeks. I’d been so caught up in my sexual desperation, that I didn’t fully realise how exciting and fun this was to do with Charles.

“Are you sure you want to do it in here?” He paused, running a hand over my cheek, some strands of hair catching between his fingers. “Yeah.” I nodded, smiling a little shyly at the vulnerable moment. “I’m on the pill as well. La pilule.” I translated as he nodded, lifting his head to kiss me more gently now. Charles fingers pushed the shoulder of my sleeve slightly, exposing my skin as he pressed a kiss there before spitting in his hand to lubricate himself and angle himself at my entrance.

I gasped at the slight stretch, sinking down slowly on his cock as he let out a sigh, fidgeting a little at the sensation as he smoothed a hand down my back. Fuck. He felt so good- I felt so full. Just how if needed. “That’s good?” He asked me as I nodded. “Yeah.” I squeaked, moving forwards for another kiss as he began moving me up and down with the thrust of his hips, the small noises he was making causing me to gasp out myself. The angle was intense, immediately hitting a sensitive spot deep inside of me as I struggled to remain quiet.

“Oh my god.” Charles hushed against my ear, pressing a kiss to my neck as I whined, gripping at him tighter, I began moving my hips, bouncing on his cock as I started a rhythm that made his eyes roll back into his head. Fuck, he looked so good, I couldn’t speak, I was struggling to hold back my moans, so if I opened my mouth I’d get us into trouble. “So good.” I sobbed against his neck, hiding my face in there. “Oui.” He agreed, strained as he bucked his hips up again, once, twice, three times, before he started fucking me at a much faster rate. “Fuck, like that, fuck me Charles.” I practically sung as he let out a gasp of a moan, my hips jolting forwards.

“Been waiting for this.” He grunted out, pulling my hips down to grind over him. “For so long.” He groaned, dropping his head back as I whined, grinding myself over him. “Fuck.” I choked out as he lifted his head again, watching me with an open mouth. He tensed his jaw, one hand on my shoulder, the other gripping my ass as he began fucking into me. “Tu le veux plus fort?” I moaned out in response, “yes, yes.” I choked, overwhelmed by the pleasure as he continued fucking up into me.

“Needed you for so long, Charles.” I whimpered, forehead resting against his own as he continued bucking up into me, beginning to sweat as he huffed at my words. Now we’d been so deep into our intense love making, I felt all the confidence to begin babbling. “Fuck, I needed you to fuck me like this, watching you touch yourself over me.” Charles let out a much louder groan at my words now, one of his hands slamming on the longer besides us for support. “I can’t.. I can’t, I’m going to cum if you keep talking like that.” Charles paused, breathing heavily as I gasped out from the loss of movement. Instead, I began bouncing my hips up and down, hands resting on his bare torso. “That’s what I want.” I admitted as his eyes squeezed tightly shut for a moment, gripping my flesh harshly. “Baby, baby, baby.” He hushed, pulling my front closer to his. “I want you to cum first. Tu jouis en premier.” He whispered, inhaling sharply with another snap of my hips.

“I’ll finish too fast.” He settled a hand on my hips, freezing my actions as he smiled a little shyly. “Charles?! Charles?!” A man’s voice began echoing as I turned over my shoulder. Charles let out a frustrated sigh, dropping his shoulder against mine. The door was locked. “Yo, Charles you in there?” The man asked as I made direct eye contact with the boy still inside me. No, I needed him, fuck, I didn’t want this to end.

“Can’t I get two minutes alone with you?” Charles muttered, head leaning on my chest now. His hips gyrated the slightest against mine as I let out a quiet sigh, trailing my hands over his shoulders. “Yeah! Just on the phone!” Charles exclaimed. “Oh! Okay, sorry! You’re needed outside, bro!” Charles winced as I went to slide off him, he shook his head, wanting me to stay there, but I dropped to my knees causing him to sit up straighter, stunned by my actions. I smirked up to him, licking a stripe along the bottom of his cock as his jaw dropped.

“I-I’ll be 10 minutes!” He choked out, holding eye contact with him for as long as I could before I sunk my lips down over his erection. I’d wanted to feel him in my mouth for so long.

“Okay, bro, sorry for interrupting!” The man called out again, I think his name was Marcus. “Merde.” Charles muttered maybe a little too loud as I hollowed my cheeks, sucking a little faster now. His hand hovered over the back of my head, resting it there lightly as I felt his whole body tense. My lips ran over his veiny tip, the taste of myself and his precum filled my mouth, edging me on.

“What?” The guy called out again. “Nothing!” Charles exclaimed, miming out a soft, “oh my god.” Biting down on his hand, I glanced up to him before going down as far as possible. He jumped and hunched forwards. He was going to cum, I could feel it, I wanted it.

“Ah, alright man, see you in 10.” The footsteps slowly got quieter as Charles finally sighed out.

“Si bon, Jenny tu es si bon pour moi.” I knew that was him telling me how good I was, fuck, I needed to hear more of his praises as I bobbed my head up and down. His soft breaths soon became heavy and shaky, as he struggled to keep his composure and keep quiet. “Je vais jouir.” He warned, “merde! Baby!” He held his breath, tapping desperately on my cheek, but I didn’t pull off as his whole body seized and began shaking. I moaned against his twitching cock, pulling off just as he spurted his cum everywhere, the breath he was holding coming out as one loud groan, the desperation soon replaced with content as I smoothed my hands over his wet cock. Charles’s hand landed on top of mine as he caressed my fingers that stroked over his dick. That was too good… making him cum for me with my mouth, I’d never done that before.

“Oh, baby!” He moaned out, exhaling and sitting up straighter as he pulled me up, kissing me several times. “You didn’t have to do that.” He breathed, still coming down from his high as I smiled, kissing his cheek. “I wanted to. Plus, you were in a rush.”

“Fuck, you are so good. I owe you big time.” He shook his head, glancing down to the mess we’d both made. “No you don’t.” I swiped my fingers under my lip, cleaning myself up as my pussy still throbbed, I was in pain with the amount of sexual frustration I had. “I do.” Charles nodded firmly, “I want to properly fuck you. For as long as you want.” He shook his head, his words making me groan playfully as he giggled. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Don’t make yourself cum until I can. Tonight.” Charles grabbed my wrist once more as I bit down on my lip. “If I can wait that long.” I eyed him up and down as he slowly eased himself onto his feet. We shared a few sweet kisses before he apologised profusely that he had to leave. I was fine with it, kinda satisfied from the fact we’d finally got to- pretty much fuck. Now all I had to do was wait until tonight without touching myself. Kinda difficult when I’d been worked up to the edge of orgasm by one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure if I could wait that long ….

#Charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut

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