#we WILL be drawing this outfit��� when i remember how to draw..

[meddlehaven]

THEY’RE ALL SO CUTE WAIT OMG

[todayisafridaynight]

Morning! I'm here to harass you. 🤭

Hangover status?

And how vivid is the memory of stream? 🤣

GOOD MORNING STARS you could never harass me 😤

and LIKE I SAID DURING STREAM i never get hangovers !!!!!!! ive also been awake since like. 4AM so even if i did get one i'd prob be fine by now LOL

and trust. i remember. Everything from stream.

[dilf-docs]

To The Devil I Know

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing, dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)

word count: 7,195 words

side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"

It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.

When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.

"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"

You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.

"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"

You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.

"Yeah, about that..."

"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.

"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"

In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.

"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"

"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.

"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"

"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."

"Did you just call me fat?"

You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.

"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"

He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"

Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.

"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"

"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"

You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.

"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"

"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"

Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.

"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"

Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.

"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"

"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.

"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"

Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And we're taking my truck"

"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?

He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.

"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"

You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.

He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:

Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.

Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.

You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.

If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.

"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.

You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:

"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"

As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.

"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"

You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.

You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"

"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"

Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"

He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.

A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.

"Damn right you don't"

You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.

"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"

"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.

He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:

"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"

But you hear.

You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.

"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."

"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.

The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.

"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"

"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.

Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.

"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"

"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.

"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.

"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.

"You'll have to prove that"

You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.

"Prove that?"

You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.

"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"

But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.

"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.

You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.

On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.

"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"

"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"

"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"

You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.

"It's... not here"

"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.

"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"

You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.

"Lost somethin'?"

You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.

"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"

"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.

You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.

"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.

"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.

"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"

You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.

"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.

Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.

"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"

She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.

That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.

Anytime.

You can't help but wonder what stopped him.

Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.

Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.

Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.

The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.

Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.

The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.

He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.

You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.

"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"

"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.

"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.

Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.

But you won't let him win.

"Mr. Miller?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you married?"

He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"

"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.

He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.

"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"

"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"

He scoffs. "Still hella young"

"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.

"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"

You loose your patience.

"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"

Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.

"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"

"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.

When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.

"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"

You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.

"I think I know what you want"

"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.

Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.

You haven't even started yet.

"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"

You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.

"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.

"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.

It was all so fucked up.

But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.

"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"

The praise gets to you, even if not needed.

Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.

"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.

He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.

You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.

"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.

You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.

"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.

And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:

"Y/n"

You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.

Joel said your name.

Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.

Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.

"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"

He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.

"But do you?"

Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.

He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.

But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.

Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.

He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.

But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.

He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.

"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.

"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.

"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"

Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.

"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.

"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.

"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.

"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"

So you do.

You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.

But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.

You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.

"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.

Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.

"What?"

"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"

If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.

"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.

"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"

So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.

Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.

And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.

"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"

Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:

"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"

He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"

"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.

"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"

You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.

"Do you think I'd risk me and my best friend's safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.

The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.

"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"

"I won't tell you shit" you spit.

"You little minx, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"

The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.

Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.

"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.

"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"

You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.

"What are you-"

"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"

As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.

"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.

"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"

You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.

"Good girl"

He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.

"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"

The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.

"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"

You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.

"Yes, I'll be"

"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"

"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"

"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"

You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.

"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"

You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.

"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"

The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.

"Joel" you breathe out. 

He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.

"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"

He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.

"Sorry, Mr. Miller"

"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.

But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.

"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"

The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.

"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"

You laugh breathless, trying to recover.

"Wanna taste?"

So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"

He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.

You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.

"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.

"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.

Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.

Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin. 

He positions himself between your legs again.

"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"

He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.

Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.

"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.

The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.

"I will, Mr. Miller"

He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.

"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.

You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.

"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"

His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.

"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"

The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.

"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.

This is real.

You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.

"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"

His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.

"Take it all, like the good girl you are"

Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.

He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him. No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.

"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.

But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs / tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)

[jetblack4realz]

his little girl - yellowstone boys

how the yellowstone (+ 1923) boys react to you having their daughter

i think i might make this a series if y'all are interested. i think it'd be cute! i'll do kayce (obvs), rip (ofc), ryan (what a man), lee (we didn't get enough of him), jimmy (i haven't seen a single thing on here for him, not that there isn't but still), and spencer (he's iconic)!!

lmk if you want anything in particular for any or all of these guys! i think it could be fun :)

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kayce dutton:

when you first got pregnant, you were so certain it was going to be a little boy, and that's what you told kayce. he smiled over at you, hand on your stomach as he shook his head.

"and why's that, baby?" he wondered.

"he's been kicking like a boy, and i've got the skin to show it's a boy. i've always imagined that i'd be a boy mom," you answered with a shrug, leaning into his embrace comfortably. "and we've already got tate. i think it'll be another boy."

and he'd been alright with that. he let you have your dreams of what to name him and how you'd have him and tate match in little cowboy outfits. you even omitted the gender reveal in favor of it being a surprise, but also because you were so certain it was a boy.

but, when that little girl came out, you both were in instant happy tears.

kayce held her first due to some complications during birth, and he suddenly remembered the joy that came with being a father. as he stared down at his baby girl with eyes that matched his, he was flooded with a certain protectiveness that didn't come with tate. this was his little girl - nobody was going to mess with her.

to say she was spoiled by her daddy was an understatement. there wasn't a day that he didn't come home with a new handful of wildflowers, one for each of his girls, and sit on the floor having her explain all her little drawings to him. when tate would mess with her, teasing as a good older brother would, kayce would give him a stern shake of his head, holding her close to his chest as she sniffled.

"she ain't a boy, bud," he told him. "i know she's your sister and you wanna tease her, but you gotta treat her like a lady."

"i just wanna make her laugh," tate defended.

"find another way, okay pal? there's a million ways to make her laugh and only a few to make her cry. let's figure that out, alright?" he said, pulling the boy into his side for a hug. tate looked at his sister, thinking for a moment before making a funny face, sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes as he pulled his mouth at a funny angle. she burst into a fit of giggles, kayce high-fiving him as she clambered out of his lap to go play with her older brother.

you had to be the one to teach her to rope and ride, ensuring she had the true makings of a cowgirl because kayce did not want that life for her. he hoped that she wouldn't ever end up with a cowboy. but, once she knew how to ride well enough, he'd take her on long rides with him and tate, explaining the beauties of montana to them both.

he first bought her a dress from a little boutique in town and a matching bow to go with it when she was five, beyond excited to dress her in it and take her out on a daddy daughter date. you took tate on a mommy son date that same night, smiling as you saw your husband and daughter eating ice cream through the store window as tate dragged you to the theater down the street.

kayce stayed protective, but supportive of what she wanted - except for when she started getting cutesy around the newest ranch hand rip had let stick around, a kid called carter. kayce nipped that one in the bud real fast.

he thrived as a father, it was his true calling, with both tate and your little girl. having both felt like his life had equalled out and he ensured they had a close bond as well. kayce isn't a girl dad or a boy dad, he's just a dad, and he loves it.

rip wheeler:

rip would never admit it, but whenever he imagined finding a girl, settling down, and starting a family, it was always filled with daughters. it was easy to assume that he'd want all boys - he was one of the most manly men montana had ever seen. but, with that, he felt a need to have girls to protect, to be strong for.

so when that first baby ended up a girl, he was silently ecstatic.

"baby, it's a girl," he mumbled to you, his smile the widest you'd seen it since your wedding day.

he was so supportive during labor, petting your hair out of your face as you squeezed his hand tightly. when your little girl finally started crying, he took her straight from the doctor and set her on your chest, one hand on your arm and the other on the baby's back.

he watched over the both of y'all carefully. it was obvious to everyone that you were his number one priorities, and if anyone so much as mentioned your names with the wrong tone he was ready to fight.

rip started taking her out on rides as soon as she was able to be strapped to his chest and sit on a horse without crying, which was actually awfully early. you told him it was only because she was his daughter that he was able to do this, but they both loved it. she was an expert rider by the time she was eight years old, and a good roper too.

you had two twin girls after her, both absolutely adored by rip and their older sister. you were able to go on family rides at that point, you and rip with each one of the littles in front of you and your oldest perched behind rip with wide wondering eyes.

"daddy, an eagle!" she cheered, pointing over his shoulder at a bald eagle flying over the trees.

"good eye, baby," rip said, smiling as he high-fived the little girl.

she quickly became his right hand man. even at four years old, she was grabbing him a banana for breakfast before he headed out the door or helping him clean his boots. the older she got, the more responsibility she got, which was fine by her. she was strong and determined and a total daddy's girl.

until she became a brother's girl.

carter showed up when she was seven and she fell in love with him quickly. he was sweet with her, carrying her on his back out to the barn as she helped him shovel stalls the best she could.

rip didn't know how to feel about it until you finally approached him about adopting carter.

"it wouldn't be anything official since neither of y'all have any documentation or anything," you told him, fiddling with your fingers. "but, that boy needs a home. and rip, i really love him, and so does she, and so do you. we've got one extra room and a place at the table. i want him here. you've seen him with our baby girl, he wants to be a part of this family too. please, rip."

and so that was that. after you sat the boy down and told him, he became even more dependable. he was an avid protector of your daughter and rip actually began smiling at the sight of the two of them walking around the ranch.

rip didn't love carter the same way he loved his baby girl, he was always meant to be a girl dad, but he appreciated him nonetheless. the way he was with rip's daughters helped secure him in the little wheeler family, and rip was happy about it.

ryan:

ryan was in no way prepared to be a father. when you told him you were pregnant he about shat himself.

"but we used protection," he said, eyes wide as he paced the bunkhouse.

"well, quite obviously it didn't work," you said. you grabbed his arms. "ryan, hun, it'll be okay. okay? it'll all work out, we'll figure it out."

"i don't have anything for you. i can't do anything for you. i don't have a house for myself, i barely have my own truck, i make enough to live but i don't know how to provide for you," he stressed.

"we'll figure it out," you emphasized again, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly.

and you did. with how long ryan had been working on the yellowstone ranch and how close your family was to the duttons (how you'd met ryan, actually), john gave you space in the main house to take care of you new little girl - heavens knew there was enough room, he barely even noticed you were there. he, himself, was kind of obsessed with the idea of having another pseudo grandchild, and ryan was convinced that was the only reason he worked it all out for y'all.

ryan was a nervous father. he was uber careful, keeping constant eyes on the baby or whoever was holding her. ninety percent of the time, that person was himself. he barely even let colby hold her and he cursed out jimmy when he asked, saying how he wasn't about to let that dumbass, brain-injured, bronco-riding klutz of a rodeo star hold his precious baby girl and drop her on her head just like his parents had done to him, obviously.

everyone had a good laugh about that one.

your little girl wasn't around the horses or cows, or even a damn rope for so much of her life, but what she was around was poker. ryan had her in his lap as they played cards since she was a month old and not sleeping through the night. somehow, impeccably, she went down without a fuss after sitting through a few games of cards with her father and his friends.

when she got a bit older, he taught her all his favorite childhood card games, but she got bored of them. when you first walked in on him explaining poker to her, you about smacked him upside the head, but when you saw her smiling and figuring out the order of the cards you let it slide.

"she'll be cheatin' out the rest of us in no time," ryan said, running a hand over her hair as he smiled up at you.

"whatever you say, cowboy," you sighed, sitting next to her and picking at the chips he'd laid out for her.

for her tenth birthday, he threw her a poker party with the rest of the wranglers, the duttons, tate, and carter, with ibc rootbeers in a cooler to make her feel just as cool as the rest of them. it was the first time she'd played with anyone but her parents, and she was stoked.

she smoked their asses.

they were freaking flabbergasted, even ryan. he pressed a kiss to her head, laughing as he congratulated her. "that's my kid, everybody."

lee dutton:

lee never wanted kids.

he knew it, you knew it, john knew it, hell, the whole family knew it. it was never in his plan.

but, you also weren't in his plan. he'd had a perfectly organized idea of being the forever bachelor of the yellowstone, hitting up bars for quick girls when he wanted a makeout or one night stand or whatever, and then returning to life on the ranch.

well, you showed up, a horse trainer from the sixes, travis wheatley's little sister, and he fell in love so fast he almost tripped over his feet. he rushed into dating you, proposing, and marrying you but no one in montana had any complaints, except for maybe your father, but he was in texas so it didn't matter in the long run. and he also, accidentally, rushed into getting you pregnant, which was not the goal at all.

"i know, and i'm sorry, but i'm keeping it, baby," you'd told him the night he found the test. you held his face in your hands, brows furrowed. "i want this. i hope you can understand that."

"i never wanted kids," he told you, shaking his head and breathing out a deep sigh. "but, uh, with you? with you, i'm not so opposed." he looked up at you, mustering a small, almost scared smile. "hell, we're already here, ain't we? let's fuckin do this thing, baby."

"language, lee," you laughed.

his mind was blown when you gave birth, absolutely scared and amazed out of his mind when the nurse handed over this perfect, slightly messy, bundle of pink blankets screaming bloody murder to him as they cleaned you up.

"holy shit," he muttered, staring down at his daughter with wide eyes.

"language, lee," you groaned, sitting up and reaching out for the baby. he handed her to you immediately, watching the both of you carefully.

his world changed that day.

as soon as you were ready to let her out of the house, he took her everywhere with him, and he was not ashamed about it. the strap-on baby carrier was his best friend as he walked around the house, grabbing her nursing bottles before heading out to the barn. john laughed when he saw him the first time.

"and what the hell are you doing? you can't cowboy with a baby, lee," he told his eldest.

"watch me," was his answer.

you didn't know he was doing all this, only being told that he'd take her out while you got some rest or did whatever you needed to get done. it was nice to have little breaks throughout the day, but you worried if she was hungry. well, until you saw the little bottle holster he'd made himself that he kept strapped to his side.

you almost thought it was ridiculous, but it was the best possible outcome you could've hoped for, so you let him take her out every few days.

that girl was practically a cowboy by the time she was five years old. she knew all the terms, had her own boots, was dressed in the same wranglers and carhartts as her dad and grandpa, and always was begging for a horse. she wasn't allowed quite yet, but lee promised her she'd get one eventually.

he took her out hunting with him basically her whole life, teaching her the sacredness and also the practicality of it. she became obsessed with guns when she was eight, something you became especially worried about. you made him put extra locks on each case and then on the safe, the fear of her getting into them eating you alive. she complained about not being able to get a tag until she was twelve, but you thanked the state for it.

lee, of course, found a workaround where she began shooting bucks as big as the bed of his truck when she was only ten because it was on the dutton property - who was going to know? if she could love him anymore than she already did, she definitely did after that.

you kept it to the one kid, knowing she was all lee could really handle. and you were both happy to have her be the center of your worlds. and as much as some traditional montanans might argue that dutton ranch's succession should be male, anyone who met your daughter knew that that little ten year old was as much a cowboy as anyone on the ranch, following in the large footsteps of her grandpa and father with exactness.

jimmy:

jimmy was ecstatic when he learned you were pregnant, as nervous as it made him too. everything in his life was starting to work out; he'd figured out his dream job - to be a horse trainer, he had a good job, y'all had just gotten married, and he bought his first house right by the sixes.

"this is perfect," he told you, kissing your forehead as he smile widely. "everything is so perfect now, darlin'."

when you learned it was a girl that day at the doctor's office, he was even more ecstatic.

"our little cowgirl," you told him as he pulled you into his side.

"our little cowgirl," he nodded, a certain proud smile on his lips as he thought about what it'd be like raising a little cowgirl as a real cowboy now himself.

now that he had money, and good money too, he let himself go out and buy the baby all sorts of things, from cow printed blankets to little stuffed horses. you laughed when he came home one day with tiny little baby boots.

he put them on her as soon as she'd grown enough to give him the chance. he held her hands as he walked her around the room, the small girl bouncing a bit as she situated in her boots.

"i know they're kinda funny, hun," he hummed to her as she walked with him. "but, they're actually the best sort of shoe. you're gonna love 'em."

his favorite part of the day had always been coming home to you, but it was even better now that he had two people to come home to. and she loved her daddy, babbling with that big baby smile as she crawled to him. he'd always scoop her up into his arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek before walking through the rest of the house to find you.

he told her stories about the yellowstone ranch when he tucked her into bed, her favorite black and white spotted stuffed horse in her arms as she gazed up at him with a smile and big hazel eyes that mirrored his own.

when she got older, you started bringing her down to the arena to show her what exactly her daddy did. at that point, he was on travis' main team of show horse trainers, and he was happy to show off for his wife and little girl. she was always excited to watch him, hanging off the fence with a wide grin as you stood behind her, waving at your husband just as travis yelled at him to get back to work. it was the first time jimmy had ever really talked back to him, yelling not to curse when his daughter was around. travis never did it again and began to show off for the eight year old when she was around too.

she was spunky, way spunkier than jimmy was ready for and sassier than he ever had been. "she gets this from you."

when she went to travis asking for her own horse and better lessons, her brows raised and arms crossed over her chest, jimmy nearly had a heart attack. he dismounted his horse, crossing to his daughter but not making it before travis responded.

"what do i get if i do? horses aren't free, you know."

"a new trainer," she answered, nodding at him firmly. "i've seen y'all do this my whole life. i've rode my whole life. just gimme a shot."

at the ripe age of ten, she'd managed to convince travis wheaton to give her a horse, let her dad teach her, and the opportunity to stay on as she trained. travis laughed when he passed jimmy, shaking his head. "i hate to break it to you, but she ain't your kid, jimmy."

jimmy breathed a sigh of relief before he pulled her up onto his horse, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"you've really got to talk to me about things like that before you just do it," he said. "that's my boss, you know that?"

"he ain't my boss," she laughed, kissing her dad on the cheek.

spencer dutton:

spencer had always wanted kids. and ever since he met you he knew he wanted to have them with you. but, life as a hunter in africa was dangerous enough as it is that you both agreed to wait.

life had other plans.

well, you weren't exactly careful, for one, and for two birth control was iffy, so you should've seen it coming sooner or later. it probably should've been later, but what the hell.

he decided that was the right time to quit being a predator hunter then and did what he could to get you both back to montana, hopefully before you popped. you didn't argue - you wanted to be home when you had your baby too. he took excellent care of you on each ship, each town, and on the train west, ensuring you always had water and foods that didn't make you want to throw up, being a constant pillow for when your body decided it needed a nap, and paying for the most comfortable accommodations the different vessels had.

you didn't know the gender of the baby until after you had her. you were exhausted, but spencer had been right by your side the whole way through, smoothing your hair back and cooling you down with a wet cloth as cara coached you through it.

the look on his face when cara exclaimed it was a girl was one you would never forget; a mixture between love, adoration, and excitement, and fear, protectiveness, and anxiety.

he coddled that baby girl. every night, he spent hours cooing to her as he rocked in the rocking chair his father had built when he was just a baby. he told her stories about cowboying and africa, sang her lullabies cara used to sing to him, and never missed an opportunity to kiss her sweet chubby cheeks.

"you're so good with her," you mumbled to him one night as you sat on his lap in the chair, head tucked into his neck as he held you in one arm and the baby in the other. "how do you do it?"

"i don't know," he whispered, glancing at you with a gentle smile before you both returned your gazes to your daughter. "loving her comes as easily to me as loving you. it's as natural as anything i've ever felt."

"so it's just instinct that helps you calm her in any situation?" you asked.

"well, i can't calm her in every situation," he said with a quiet chuckle. "you've got the only solution sometimes. but, yeah. i guess in other ways it is."

then things got worse with whitfield and the ranch. she was older then, about six, and spencer made sure she knew to never go anywhere alone, to scream for help if she ever saw anyone she didn't know on the ranch (because she knew and adored literally every cowboy working for jacob), and to run. fast.

and she was fast. like, surprisingly fast. she took great pleasure in challenging spencer and jack and jacob to races. spencer and jack always pretended to let her win, and so did jacob, but after he got shot she actually did start to win. when he was told to walk around to get better, she thought she would be encouraging by walking right by his side a little faster than he was able to. it did actually get him moving quicker, but cara was constantly rolling her eyes as she did it.

when she got older, of course spencer taught her how to shoot and hunt.

"this is what daddy did before you were born, princess," he told her as he helped her line up the sight to the target.

"kill things?" she asked, raising her brows. you laughed as you sat to the side, watching in amusement.

he cleared his throat, his brows furrowing a bit. "well, i mean, yes, but i was protecting people from animals that wanted to hurt them. and other times getting food for the family."

"so, do i have to get food for the family now?" she asked, looking down at the gun. he laughed.

"you don't have to, no," he reassured. "i just wanted to show you. it's something i love to do, and something to protect you. that's why mama knows."

"mama knows?"

"yes, i do, baby," you chimed in with a smile. "he showed me back when we were just teenagers. he's a lot better than me though, so you listen to him."

"can we shoot something real next time?" she asked, glancing back at spencer.

"maybe not next time, but when you get enough practice in then yeah," he answered.

"when is that?"

she had a lot of questions. and she always asked them. but, spencer was as even kiln as ever, so patient when he responded to her and made sure her curious little mind found the answers it needed.

but, whenever you thought of spencer as a father, there was always one night that came to mind. she was probably four and it was way past her bedtime. y'all had put her to sleep maybe ten times before she finally stayed in her room and you left to hopefully get some rest.

except spencer turned on the radio. you'd just gotten it the day before and were so excited about it and when he flicked it on, some slow, country tune was playing through it. he took you in his arms then, holding you close to his chest with his lips on your temple, swaying you both gentle along to the tune.

you were smiling the whole time, letting him twirl you once before bringing you in close again. only a few minutes into your impromptu slow dancing, your door was pushed open and in walked your toddler.

there was no shouting or frustrated demand for her to go back to sleep, even though that was very tempting given your last hundred tries to have her do just that. instead, spencer pressed a kiss to your head and twirled you out of his arms as he moved to scoop her up instead. he held her up with one arm, his other holding her hand as he spun slowly in circles.

"if i let you dance with mommy and me will you stay in bed?" he said, raising his brows as he met the eyes that matched his. she giggled, nodding as he kissed her cheek. "okay, then let's dance baby."

you leaned up against the bed frame, watching them with crossed arms and a smile as the music played through the small radio. he met your eyes and his smile grew, slowly spinning his way over to you. releasing your daughter's hand, he took yours instead and pulled you in close. his hand moved to your waist and soon you had your arms wrapped around him and your baby girl as he held her between you, swaying slowly.

as the song ended, he twirled you and then spun himself to earn a giggle from the toddler before setting her down and taking her small hand to give her a twirl as well.

your heart was so full in that moment. when he returned from tucking her in for the (hopefully) last time, you kissed him slowly, pulling away with a soft smile.

"you're a good dad, spencer," you told him. he shrugged, pulling you back in to hold you in a gentle embrace.

"you're a good mom. you make it easy for me."

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

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[gracieheartspedro]

Miss Possessive

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem! reader x rockstar!gareth emerson

part 1 (if you want context)

word count: 5.4k words

description: you cannot help but be possessive over your boyfriends... wait no, boyfriend. just your boyfriend. not his best friend.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, rockstar au, all participates are 18+, mentions of alcohol and substances, reader is established as eddie's girlfriend, gareth has crush on reader, reader is jealous of every girl and pretty damn mean, voyeurism, drunk sex, gareth is really there just to watch, public sex, dry humping, tons of dirty talk, spanking, fingering, rough unprotected sex, name calling, face grabbing, multiple orgasms, light choking, possessive eddie, creampie, angst at the end

authors note: i listened to miss possessive by tate mcrae too many times. sorry.

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

“Another tequila soda, sweetheart?”

Your eyes trail up Eddie’s form, your slightly tipsy mind taking in every inch of his outfit. It is not clubbing attire in the slightest, but rockstars did not need to fit into the crowd of half-naked dancing drunks. A small smile creeps across his knowing face as he leans over the table, his face inches from yours. 

Eddie could read you in every situation, and he knows what’s playing in your brain at this very moment. 

You want him so bad. 

The insatiable desire you have felt with him since joining him and Corroded Coffin on tour has taken over your entire being. You can not keep your hands off him. When he’s near, you have to have your hands somewhere on him. Wrapped around his waist, gripping onto his hands and arms as you walked into venues, and even when he was sitting and talking to people, you would lazily wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders from behind. 

You wanted his attention and he did a very good job of indulging. 

And then there was Gareth. 

Him joining the mix was unexpected and you anticipated it to be awkward the next day, but he treated you the same way he always did. Sweet, polite, and always looking out for you in some way. 

There had been times that you could count on one hand when he would eye you a certain way when you wore a tight skirt. Or a slight touch he would press on your lower back when trying to shimmy by you on the tour bus. But nothing ever crossed that strict line in the sand that Eddie drew out for him. 

Eddie did not say anything else about it after that night, simply putting it behind him like it never even happened. You sometimes believe you mocked it up, and it was all just a dream. 

A very hot dream.

“See somethin’ you like?” He asks teasingly as you rub your glossed lips together, distracted by your own thoughts. 

You brush your nose across his, humming your response. “Mhm…”

He presses a kiss to your lips, his tongue swiping across your upper lip to taste your cherry-flavored gloss. You push onto his collarbones, pulling away. He furrows his brows under his swept bangs. “What?”

“Best behavior tonight, remember? We were advised by your manager to not draw too much attention…”

The mid-week meeting consisted of Corroded Coffin’s management targeting public displays of affection that were a bit too graphic to be on the front page of tabloids. So what if Eddie wanted to squish your ass when you two walked around LA, shopping for lingerie? He is not supposed to have a pristine record, he’s a fucking guitarist in a heavy metal band.

As aggravated as you were about it all, you did not want to step on toes. You told them you two would scale it back, much to Eddie’s chagrin. He wanted to tell them to piss off, but ruffling feathers when they were about to drop their sophomore album was not a great idea. 

Eddie nods, pressing a quick kiss to your lips again. “Lemme get us a refill.”

The moment he leaves, Gareth returns to the booth, a pretty blonde thing in tow. You had been watching him make his way through the dance floor all night with Grant. He stood out like a sore thumb, just like Eddie. His raggedy t-shirt and black jeans did not scream lady killer, but you spotted him touching on plenty of girls as he danced with them to sped-up pop songs. 

His girl’s dress was much tighter than yours, her makeup exaggerated, but her hair was perfectly placed on her head, almost like it was a wig. It never moved, even when Gareth slung his arm over her shoulders. 

You sucked up the last bit of your drink, your gaze wandering to the way Gareth rubs small circles into her bare shoulder. A pang of something rushes over your body, and you suddenly feel repulsed by the view of them. 

She must feel your eyes burning into her because she finally flicks her bright blue eyes at you. 

“You are Eddie’s girl, aren’t you?”

Her voice immediately pisses you off. You straighten your spine, leaning over the booth. The dress you decided to wear tonight was a bit too short so the moment you extend your body, you feel the back side of it rise to your mid-buttcheek. 

“The one and only.”

Gareth chuckles at your dryness, turning his gaze towards the bar where Eddie is grabbing your refill and another whiskey straight for himself. You bite the inside of your cheek as the girl’s face lights up at your response. 

“He’s a pretty boy, ain’t he?” She almost questions, even though she knows the answer. From what you can read about this girl from the two shared sentences, she seems to think she’s untouchable. She’s seated next to the drummer of the most popular metal band in the world, she must be the most divine being in the seedy club the boys were insistent on coming to. From her dress, you can tell she spends a pretty penny on her nightclub looks. She thinks she’s hot shit, just by the way she’s leaning back over the table to talk to you. 

She is only asking the question because she wants to test you. See if she can get under your skin. 

You cock your head to the side, condescendingly. “Who are you again?”

“Mad-”

“Right, whatever your name is, I suggest you don’t talk to me like we are friends.”

Gareth is taken aback immediately, and suddenly, you both start speaking your own language with glances. You tap your nails, waiting for Gareth’s friend to respond to you, but she’s rendered speechless. You watch as her hand crosses her own lap and goes to Gareth’s, almost like she’s waiting for him to reprimand you. 

He doesn’t. His eyes are trained on the way your face twinges. He knows you can handle yourself.

Her touches are so aggressive, it sends your head spinning. You had been watching Gareth dance on other girls all night, but when it is the girl initiating the behavior, the jealousy creeps across your skin. You cannot pull your gaze away from where her hand rests on him. 

“I don’t wanna step on any toes-” Her voice is unsteady, trying to remain calm under your deadly glare. You tap your long nails on the marble table top before you bring your hand up in a stop gesture. 

“Then don’t. Keep your eyes off of him.”

Gareth cannot help the smirk that spreads across his face the moment you hush her. He was not expecting you to be so brutal to the girl, but it is very reminiscent of when you took control of his sexual encounter with that groupie on the tour bus. 

You had a dominant streak. Which was so hot.

Eddie places your glass directly in front of you, sliding next to you in the booth. Perfect timing.

The girl’s pupils dilate the moment she looks at him, causing that pit in your stomach to grow and spread through your body. 

If looks could kill, you would be wanted for the murder of some random Valley Girl. 

Eddie looks at Gareth questioningly, but he just shrugs in response. 

You reel in your resting face, finally smiling and straightening your head towards the girl. “Where did I say to keep those eyes, hun?”

Her face drops the moment you yell over the music, “I’m sorry?”

“Where did I tell you to keep your eyes?” You hassle her with the smile painted on your face, which only adds to the fear spreading across her face. The sudden uncertainty and lack of confidence spilling out of her fills your chest with unbridled joy. “My boyfriend. Are you looking at him?”

She tries to scrape together a sentence, but her bright pink pout spills out jumbled words. “I-I have e-eyes.”

“I-I,” You mock, “Yeah, you should use them and look somewhere else. Maybe the floor, or the ceiling, or anywhere but the people at this booth.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his hand gripping your thigh under the table. At the same time, his elbow nudges your side, trying to grab your attention. But you are lasered in on her, and in a beat, on Gareth. 

He looks mystified by your words, his bottom lip slightly parted from his upper. 

It’s the same expression he gave you when he told you to keep your eyes open when was making that groupie cum on his cock weeks ago. 

You had to admit, the alcohol was making you bold, but the moment he made eyes at you, something switched inside you. You realize you needed his attention, too. He was yours for the taking.

The girl glances over at Gareth the moment he licks his lips at you. 

You finally look away while he deals with the girl’s inquiries, your eyes finally looking up at your boyfriend. His jaw is slack, his hand still tightened on your bare thigh. The brown in his eyes looks so dark, even when the flashing lights swoop over his face. You could tell he was not happy with the exchange with Gareth just moments before. 

You grab your drink, squeezing the lime into the clear cocktail, trying to distract yourself from looking at Gareth across the booth. Eddie’s eyes are locked on the side of your face; you can sense him. 

His breath fans your neck and earlobe out of nowhere. “Are you insane?”

The lime juice drops down your fingers as you clench it between your pointer and thumb. Your face twitches at his question, unsure if a response would get you in more trouble. 

You drop the lime in the drink and use the straw to swirl it around. You lick your fingers clean, letting the sourness of the lime settle on your taste buds.

You were usually pretty possessive of Eddie, especially with random girls backstage at shows. You were never fond of watching them touch him, flirt with him, and in some cases, just look at him in certain ways. But it was a part of the job, so you would suck it up and hours later make him fuck you while he repeated that he was all yours and no one else’s. 

The girl started talking about Eddie first, which already did not sit right with you. When the excitement spread across her face when he sat back down, you physically could not help yourself.

But Gareth? 

Why were you making eyes at him? Why were you disgusted watching him cuddled up with this girl? Was it just because it was her, or was it something else entirely?

You bring the straw to your lips and take a sip before finally replying to Eddie. 

“I don’t like the way she talks about you.” You peer at her now practically hidden face as you say it. She is positioning her face in Gareth’s curls, whispering something in his ear. His arm is no longer behind her shoulders as his hands are now folded over the table in contemplation. Eddie’s palm rubs up your thigh, dangerously high. 

Your face twitches when his fingers grope your inner thigh, the coldness of his rings sending goosebumps across your skin. You take another sip of your drink, slurping it a bit, which catches Gareth’s attention. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Gareth’s voice is crackling a bit; not sure if he can get away with calling you by a nickname. Eddie’s motions completely halt when he hears his bandmate’s question. 

It must have been the girl’s tipping point because her eyes roll to the back of her head. She grips the edge of the table and slides away from Gareth, her high heels clacking against the concrete floors of the club as she practically runs from the table. 

“What the fuck is going on? What did I just walk into?” Eddie interrogates, his eyes flickering between you and Gareth. You start to bounce your leg and take your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Eddie knows when you are lying, so that was out of the question. 

“Your girl likes to drive other girls away from me, it seems,” Gareth states, flicking his curls a bit out of his face.

He leans over the table, his long silver chain dragging across the table. Your mind instantly starts to imagine it dangling above you-

Eddie slaps your thigh, demanding your attention. “Why?”

You do not have an actual reasonable explanation for him, so you put your drink down on the table and shrug. 

“Just looking out for my boys.”

You shift yourself in the booth to face Eddie. His hand slips off your thigh and your dress rides up completely over your ass, onto your hips. You can hear Gareth scoff across the table, his presence pulling back to lean against the cushion of the booth. Eddie’s eyes widen at your response and you can tell you did not answer correctly. You were testing boundaries with Eddie, but your drunk self did not quite grasp that and the possible consequences. You were honest, at least. 

“Your boys?”

The suddenness of Eddie’s next movements makes you yelp. He manhandles you onto his lap, wedging you between his chest and the large sprawling table. You are still facing Gareth, but your arms are locked behind your back. Eddie’s dark chuckle behind you sends chills up your spine. 

“You need to remember who you belong to, princess. And it’s not him.”

You gulp, feeling the wetness pooling between your thighs already. You were already expecting to be in his lap like this tonight, but not in the middle of the club, right in front of Gareth. 

His warm hands release your arms, now creeping to your front. They trace up your body, creeping up your sides all the way to your chest. When they fondle your tits, your head falls back onto his shoulder and your hips shift in place. 

“Say it,” He whispers into your neck, his hair tickling your collarbones, “Tell Gare that you’re mine and only mine.”

You just moan, trying to gain any sort of friction on his lap. 

Gareth is hypnotized by you two. It should be something he looks away from, but watching you two mess around is better than any porn he’s ever watched. 

You tilt your head forward in defiance, not indulging Eddie in the words he wants you to say out loud. You tighten your lips together, pursing them a bit as you focus on Gareth. The shifting lights beam through the curtains and spread across his face, highlighting the sly tipping of his head. 

Eddie’s right hand continues to grapple at your boob as the other one travels between your legs. Your bottom half is covered by the table so Gareth cannot see where his hand lands, but he has a very good idea where his fingers are. 

Eddie finally looks towards Gareth’s ravenous eyes, not catching the man’s eyes because they are locked on yours. 

He could not stand it anymore. 

Never happening again. He told Gareth that. And now he is looking at you like you are his next meal. And you? You have been nothing but stubborn lately. Usually, you are a puddle in his hands, but you have been extra greedy lately. Deep down, he knew he spoiled you a bit too much with the threesome and now was reaping the consequences. It irked him but he knew he had to put you both in your respective places. 

He would show you both who’s in control here.

Eddie’s groping is no longer hidden the moment he scoots you around the crescent-shaped booth. Gareth’s body is cemented to the same spot as Eddie’s hands slide between your thighs, spreading your knees apart. Your panties are soaked through, and you can tell by the look on Gareth’s face that it’s taking everything within him not to reach out and touch you. 

You place one foot up on the booth, your toes almost touching Gareth’s thigh, while your other leg is held in place between Eddie’s spread lap. 

“Soaked through your panties, hm?” Eddie’s fingers trace the hem of your underwear before sliding through the fabric with his pointer and middle finger. Him gathering the slick through your panties is enough stimulation to have you throwing your head back in pleasure. 

When his digits hook around the material, revealing your glistening cunt to Gareth, you cannot help but moan at his reaction. He takes the panties, tucking them in his pocket as your hips rock back and forth. 

You swear you see drool dribble down his bottom lip the moment Eddie’s fingers plunge into your sopping cunt. You can hear how wet you are over the music, your hips jerking forward to get Eddie to move inside you. 

He’s taking his time, dragging his digits in and out of you teasingly. You increase your movements forward, which leads Eddie to pulling his fingers out of you completely and slapping your inner thigh hard.

“Stop being greedy, princess,” He warns, his voice husky and rough, “When has that ever gotten you anywhere?”

He clamps his arm down over your leg, barring you from moving that leg as he brings his attention back to your pussy. He drags his fingers in and out of you, spreading around your juices like he’s finger painting through your slit. 

Gareth refuses to look away, grabbing his drink from the table and slamming it down. The burn he feels is suddenly replaced with pure ice the moment Eddie starts slapping your cunt, looking down your body as he does. 

“You know, you,” Eddie says, increasing in the pace of his swats at your cunt, “You never did what I asked you to do, princess.”

You bite your lip, knowing exactly what he wants from you. 

“Make me cum, please-” He presses his nose against the side of your head, his mouth right above your ear. “Tell drummer boy you’re fucking mine. I won’t ask you again.”

You let out a long sigh. You are all Eddie’s, there’s no doubt about that. But you craved what he would give you if you were defiant. Lately, his adamance and pure dominance over you has been the adding fuel to the hottest sex you two have ever had. You loved being a brat and having him set you straight. 

But this act was all being done in front of his friend. You knew you had some power imbalances with this situation and it could get hairy very quickly. 

So you submit. 

You turn to Gareth, eyes boring into his dark blue eyes. “I’m Eddie’s. Only his.”

Eddie’s groan kickstarts the quickest orgasm you have ever had from his fingers. He sinks into you, hooking his pointer and middle finger inside your dripping hole. His fingers instantly begin the ‘come hither’ motion as his thumb swipes across your swollen clit. You are holding onto whatever can keep you from sliding out of the booth seat, and somehow, Gareth’s body has moved close enough for you to hold onto his knee. 

The fire within you erupts the moment Eddie moves his fingers in the perfect tandem, touching you right there. 

Your chest heaves, your mind goes blank, and your breath leaves your body. Your nails dig into Gareth’s kneecap as your body practically goes limp and falls forward. Eddie’s arm wraps around your midsection, chuckling darkly to himself.

He does not let you recover from your insane high before he’s repositioning you up on his lap again. Your legs get locked between his thighs, closing them together tightly. In the time your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure just moments before, Eddie had already pulled his hard cock out of his skinny jeans. 

“He’s gonna watch. And only watch. He’s not touching my girl,” Eddie says with gritted teeth.

The moment your ass brushes across it, your hazy mind makes the connection that you are about to fuck him in a public club while his bandmate watches. 

The riskiness of it gets your adrenaline pumping. If anyone were to peek into the VIP area, they would see you placed on Eddie’s lap, dress over your hips as both your faces are twisted in pleasure. 

What a headline that would make! 

He readies his cock by spitting in his hand and stroking it for a moment. You shake your ass over his lap, your eyes locked on Gareth’s completely spent appearance. His hands are practically twitching, itching to touch you somehow. 

But you were not the only possessive one. 

Gareth wanted you bad and he has since the moment he sunk into you. But you were obviously off-limits and Eddie made that very clear. Hell, he was making it so abundantly clear now, he would fuck you in front of him just to prove so. 

So instead, Gareth was always subtle with his passes towards you. The moment you were around, he usually cleared the area of women because you were the only one he found himself fixated on. He knew he could not give those women the same attention when you were in his presence. 

He so badly wanted tonight to be different. Distract himself with tons of alcohol, dancing, and women. But there you were, sitting all lonesome waiting for your knight and shining armor to return. He would be lying if he did not notice the way you looked at him the moment he sat down with, Maria? Maddie?

It was the alcohol, you told yourself. It was Eddie touching you. It was the pulse of the club and bass drops in the music. 

It was not your feral desire to fuck Gareth again.

Eddie being adamant about Gareth only being allowed to watch was maddening. You wanted more hands. More kisses. More stimulation. And Gareth was a good provider of all those things. 

Eddie grasps at your waist, slowly easing you down onto his cock. You cannot help but grip the edge of the table, tilting your body towards Gareth’s frame. 

You hover over Eddie enough that he can shift his hips upward and shallowly fuck into your soaked cunt. The stretch is always delicious, the feeling even better than you remember. Even if you two fucked a couple hours before, it still felt like the first time. His cock just fits so snugly inside you, you sometimes pray he could stay there all the time. 

While Eddie focuses on thrusting up into you, you slap the table in front of Gareth, shaking the drinks in front of him.

“Talk to me,” You plea, your fingers spreading out towards him. If he can not touch you, he can at least talk you through it.

The sinful smile that spreads across his face almost makes you clench around Eddie’s length. 

“Such a dirty girl,” He practically shouts. It’s almost as if the music is getting louder to prevent people from hearing the pornographic scene happening behind some sheer curtains. “You want me to talk to you while Eddie fucks that pussy, hm?”

His condescending tone is enough to make your head spin. He slides a bit closer to you two, his eyes flickering down to how Eddie is snapping his hips up into your squelching cunt. 

The plea you make towards him turns his attention back to your twisted expression. “Please, please just talk.”

Eddie’s pace quickens, his grip on you becoming tighter. He grumbles something like while he swats your bare ass, “Such a slut.”

Gareth chuckles dryly, “Isn’t she, Eds? Just a dirty little slut that loves her hole stuffed, hm? Doesn’t matter when or where.”

You cannot help the sounds that escape you. The moans grow louder and louder, especially when Eddie stops to lift your leg back up onto the booth. The position allows him to slip his hand right between your folds, toying with your swollen clit. 

It’s not lost on Gareth how overstimulated you are, he can see directly into your soul with those steely blue eyes.

“Just fucked out on Eddie’s cock, huh, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly in tandem with Eddie’s fingers swiping across your folds as his pace increases, “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you? I can hear you moaning almost every night on the bus, begging to cum. Poor baby has to beg.” 

The way he’s mocking you makes the coil inside your stomach pulsate for a moment. You cannot help yourself, springing into an action you may regret later. You grab onto Gareth’s arm, pulling it forward and up to your throat. 

Eddie wants to stop it, but he can feel your pussy clenching around him and he wants to make you cum over and over, all in front of his stupid fucking friend. The point he needs to prove, for some reason, is taking priority over his rules of Gareth not touching you. 

While Gareth laughs at your desperation, his fingers tighten around your windpipe. 

“I just know that cunt of yours is milking Eddie’s cock, just like it did mine,” Gareth whispers as your face tilts away from him. He tugs on your throat, snapping your eyes back onto his. You are right on the edge, the teetering now turning into falling. “Make a mess on his lap, sweetheart. Look at me as you cum. Go on.”

The pressure Eddie puts on your clit throws you into overdrive. You instinctively want to close your legs, but Eddie has a strong hold on your left thigh, opening you up. The hold Gareth has on your throat only intensifies, his rings indented on the edges of your neck. As much as you want to keep your eyes on Gareth, the pleasure makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your mouth hangs wide as shaky moans pour out of you like a gushing fountain. Eddie does not stop his assault on your cunt as your white hot climax settles in your stomach. 

When your vision returns, Gareth has the most twisted look on his face. His hand slowly creeps up your throat, resting on your chin. You are finally able to inhale a big breath as Eddie holds you still on his lap while he catches his breath for a moment. 

Eddie lifts you off his lap, tearing you away from Gareth’s grasp. You have never been so forcibly pushed onto a tabletop, but somehow Eddie flops you onto your back, making almost every drink spill onto the floor or marble. It wobbles a bit as you stare up at Eddie, propping yourself onto your elbows. 

“Dude, what the f-”

Gareth cannot even finish his sentence before Eddie shoots daggers at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

He wants Gareth to watch him fuck you intimately. Eye contact. Hands everywhere. Him being the only one talking you through it. He wants Gareth to see you cum by his hand and only his hand. He wants Gareth to realize that he in no way has any ownership of you. You were his. And only his.

Just because Gareth got a taste of you before, does not give him any upper hand now.

Eddie’s grip has you shimmying your hips to the edge of the table as his left-hand pumps his cum covered shaft. He stands up, pushing the table back a couple of inches, making sure he had enough room to stand and fuck you. 

You grab at his shirt, trying to gain his focus but he slips his cock back inside you without even looking at you and suddenly your stomach is twisting. You're still sensitive from the previous orgasm, but Eddie does not care. He sets a sudden and brutal pace, grabbing the hem of his shirt from you so it does not cover up the view of you all sprawled out in front of him. He smiles watching himself disappear inside you, it seems so picturesque. 

His eyes finally seek out yours and a smirk creeps across your lips. “God, you feel so good.”

The hand that is not hooked on your hips, trails to your lower pelvis. He applies some subtle pressure to that spot as he grinds into you, “Yeah? You feel me there, baby?”

You almost forgot Gareth is still seated right beside you until you hear him croak out, “Jesus.”

You do not dare break eye contact with Eddie as he brings the bottom of his shirt up to his teeth, bearing down on the fabric. You drop down onto your shoulders, your arms reaching the edge of the table. 

“Are you gonna answer me, sweetheart? Or do you only answer to Gareth?”

The bite in Eddie’s tone makes you shudder. “Yes, baby. I feel you right there.”

You hold his palm down on your stomach, which only encourages him to go faster and feel his cockhead push against you from the inside. 

“I’m gonna fill that pussy up,” Eddie rambles, throwing his head back to regain some sort of composure as he dirty talks to you, “You like that, huh? You like walking around with my cum dripping down your leg?”

Gareth’s breathing hitches and you can hear it the moment Eddie’s groans turn into grunts, chasing his own high. Your eyes trail over to Gareth as you feel Eddie’s cock twitch inside you after one particularly sharp thrust. You just lie there, completely fucked out of your mind. The moment Eddie’s hips slow down, you peer back over at him. 

The way his shirt is tucked up, revealing his toned pale tummy. The sweat is dripping down his forehead from the curls that are usually brushed across his forehead. His jaw is slightly unhinged as he empties himself inside you. The lighting of the venue only adds to the sensuality of it all. You would love to see him like this every day for the rest of your life. 

But the moment he finishes, he abruptly pulls out of you, cum instantly dribbling on the table. 

You are taken aback. Your body still feels like jello as you manage to push yourself up onto the balls of your hands. Eddie wastes no time at all, tucking is dick back into his jeans and stepping away from in between your legs. You tilt your head towards him, trying to catch his eyes, but he will not even look in your direction.

“What’s wrong-”

“Can’t even fuckin’ look at me when I finish inside you. Fuckin’ insane.”

You shake your head, your brain almost malfunctioning from being completely dazed by your multiple orgasms, on top of the alcohol you slammed down not too long ago. You do not understand what he is talking about besides the brief glance you shot over at Gareth when he made a noise. 

Before you can even respond to him, Gareth is standing up and coming to your defense. 

“Bro, it wasn’t like that-” “Shut the fuck up,” He puts his hand up at Gareth, completely disregarding the beginning of his sentence, “I need to go have a cigarette. Please don’t follow me.”

You sit up completely, your bare ass touching the table top as you slide down onto your feet. 

“Baby, you know it wasn’t like that.”

He is already half out of the booth as his body fully turns towards you, “Bullshit.”

And he walks away, pushing the curtain completely away from disguising the booth from the outside crowd. You feel sick to your stomach, a wave of guilt and nauseating self-pity washing over you. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“This cannot happen again,” Gareth remarks, making his way to the edge of the booth, “Better yet… I don’t think I should talk to you anymore.”

Your heart sinks to your ass, sobering up completely due to the situation that’s unfolding all around you. 

“Gareth, don’t be ridiculous.”

He stops you, standing up and shaking his head dramatically, “No, what’s ridiculous is that we let this happen again. I’m not… I’m not disrespecting Eddie again. So whatever… things you felt about me. Or us. It’s not real and it’s not happening again.”

“Gare-”

“Have a good rest of your night, sweetheart."

[tizeline]

(new post cuz the original one didn't show up in the dashboard for some reason ughhh)

Okay so I just hit TEN THOUSAND FOLLOWERS!? HUH!?!? Where the FUCK did you guys come from?? Who are you people!? This is actually insane I love you guys so much I'm asbhfajkjfda 💕💕✨✨😭😭 Anyway, obviously we need to do something to celebrate this special occasion, so here's another DTIYS! (and also a ctiys if you prefer that)

Context for this - remember when I talked about how, after Leo and Donnie start properly hanging out in the Tiz Sep AU, Leo gets into human fashion? Except his taste in human fashion is absolutely atrocious?? Yeeaahh so here we have Donnie and April taking Leo out to get some human clothes and they are both absolutely bamboozled over the clothes that Leo picks out for himself (he's trying okay </3)

Extra info + rules:

No deadline, do this whenever you want to!

Feel free to take artistic liberties, redraw this however you want, and especially-

FEEL FREE TO CHANGE LEO'S OUTFIT!! The only rules here is that it's gotta be ridiculous, ugly, cringefail, or otherwise be a crime against fashion. But I'd love for you guys to come up with your own outfits for Leo :D

Use whatever art-medium you want!

But absolutely NO AI software! If you do I will banish you to the prison dimension for all eternity don't even fucking try bitch I stg 🔪

I don't have a specific tag for this, just @ me so I can see your art!

You don't have to follow me to participate (it's not like I'm gonna check anyway)

CTIYS version (just the lineart) as well as the original drawing but without the text is availible under the cut:

[hotchner-edu]

The Bet | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The team bets Aaron that he won't be able to find himself a date for Dave's annual summer barbecue. Little do they know, he's already got his eye on you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Hotch being perfect

It's half past ten, the smell of paper and brewing coffee permeates through the bullpen, and your eyes were narrowed at the small little circle surrounding Emily's desk.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are we talking about?" You finally lean over to ask, rolling your eyes fondly when Derek flashes a mischievous grin at you. He had been giving you numerous glances over the past ten minutes to try and draw your attention, possessing the giddiness and subtly of a puppy.

"Rossi's barbecue is next week." Emily muses, a bright glint in her eyes.

You nod slowly and cautiously, not sure what you were walking into. "Right..." you drag the word out a bit. "And? What are you planning? You only have that kind of smile when you're up to something, Em."

"Well, Rossi's making plus one's mandatory this year." Derek says with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he leans back against Emily's desk.

You raise your eyebrows and glance to Spencer. "Oh? And we're all in agreement with this new rule?"

"I believe Rossi's exact words were 'you people need to get out more,' so..." Emily laughs softly, shrugging as if his words had become law.

Spencer frowns a little and nods. "He also said that it would be good to bring someone we actually like and know because 'a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"

"Did Rossi really just quote the fucking Godfather at us." You deadpan and glance over to Emily who raises her hands up and shrugs again. "Okay, fine. Now I'm a bit scared to ask, but why are you guys laughing?"

Derek smiles brightly before answering with an amused tone. "Because this means Hotch has to bring a date too. Rossi's already made a bet with him that he won't be able to find a date, and we're all getting in on the action too. Losers owe a hundred each."

"Wow, Rossi's not wasting any time. So, what did you guys bet on?" You ask with a near unimpressed tone and raise an eyebrow.

Spencer glances between the three of you guys before giving you the Sparknotes version. "Well, the three of us are betting with Rossi. Penelope's still deciding, and we haven't gotten to JJ yet."

"Well, I'll bet you twenty that JJ decides to sit out on this. I mean, guys, please, are you all really convinced that Aaron Hotchner of all people can't score himself a date?" You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed by the wit of your three friends.

You have to refrain from speaking further, knowing it'd turn into a spiel of how attractive you thought your unit chief was. Plus, you weren't trying to deal with them profiling the HR nightmare-sized crush you harbored for Aaron.

"You're going against the grain, sweetheart?" Derek chuckles, lips tugged into an excited grin.

Emily shakes her head and interjects. "Okay, but there's no way he's going to be able to get a date before the party. He was hand delivered like two weeks worth of paperwork this morning."

"It's Hotch. He's full of surprises." You grin, glancing around the bustling bullpen. "And anyway, you guys already have dates?"

Derek clicks his tongue and nods with a pleased smirk. "Yep. You guys remember Savannah, right?"

"Oh yeah, I like her." Emily chimes in before groaning and leaning back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't know if my guy is going to be busy."

You shake your head and smile, teasing her with a sympathetic tone. "Well, if he has any sense, he'll drop whatever he's doing to come with you."

Emily flashes a grin at you, silently telling you that she'd talk to you later about outfit details. Spencer is lost in thought for a second before you see him frowning.

"Spence?" You ask slowly, tilting your head.

He hesitates for a moment before looking at the three of you. "Do you guys think Rossi will let me in without a date?"

"No." Rossi's voice suddenly rings out as he walks by, blowing on his steaming coffee to hide his grin as he beelines to his office.

Derek snickers and claps his hand over Spencer's shoulder. "There's your answer, kid."

Later that day, you're hunched over your desk and nursing your headache with a cup of tea as you read through some reports. Just as you were about to reread the paragraph you zoned out on, you hear your name being called.

Raising your head up and blinking away the blobs swimming across your vision, you see Aaron standing in front of his office door, hands on the railing as he eyes you. "My office."

Standing up slowly, you feel your muscles aching as you stretch a bit. When you've made your way into Aaron's office, you see him leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.

"Yes, sir?" You ask and slowly come to a stop in the middle of his office.

"You've heard about Dave's party next Saturday, yes?" He asks lowly, eyebrows drawn together.

Nodding in confusion, you wait for him to continue.

"And his terms for the night?"

"Uhm, yes, I have. Is this about the bet being made, sir?" You prod gently, wanting to know if he was trying to sleuth out who was betting what.

"Yes." He answers with an unyielding gaze, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "I was wondering if you had someone you were going to bring."

"Oh." You blush a little and smile smally. "No... A lot of us are still trying to find dates."

Aaron huffs in amusement and nods. "Yeah, Dave's really stepping on our necks this year."

"He just wants an excuse to cook more, I'm sure." You chuckle softly.

"It wouldn't be the first time..." He smiles before clearing his throat and straightening up again. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me that evening as my plus one." He says, looking at you gently.

It feels like the wind is being knocked out of you as you stare at him owlishly. "Me?" You ask dumbly.

"Yes, it's okay if you would prefer not to though, I know this is very sudden." He reassures you.

Blinking rapidly, you see the slightest bit of pink creeping across his ears. "Oh, no, I would love to be your date for the party." You answer quickly, not wanting to let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

"Really?" He says with a bit of relief, the stress immediately dissipating from his face.

You nod and smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. "Yes. I'm happy that you thought of me."

Aaron nods back and tries to compose himself a bit. "Of course... and I'm happy that you agreed."

Grinning softly at him, you chuckle a bit. "Well, I'll call you this weekend so we can settle the details, if that's okay..."

"That's perfect." He answers quickly, his eyes warm and filled with an indistinguishable emotion.

"Great! Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it then." You slowly back out of the room, shooting him a reassuring smile and fleeing back to your desk in disbelief.

When the night of Rossi's party finally turns up, you're anxiously pacing around your apartment, checking your outfit for the fifth time. Aaron had insisted on picking you up, ever the gentleman.

Time trickles by slowly, and when you finally hear a gentle knock on your door, you're practically flying toward it. Checking the peephole for a split second, you swing the door open and your eyes immediately dart down to the bouquet of roses in Aaron's hand.

"Oh!" You sputter out in shock, taking a moment to gather yourself. "Wow, they're beautiful. Thank you..." Blushing brightly, you smile as he hands you the bouquet.

"You look beautiful." He speaks gently, but his gaze is intense as he takes you in.

"Thank you. You look amazing..." It's clear that you're a bit flustered as you hurry to quickly put the roses in a vase, eyes continuing to flicker to his figure in your doorway.

He was in a black button up that hugged his arms and torso in ways that had you almost faceplanting with every step.

You're amazed that you manage to make it down to where his car is parked without your knees giving out as his hand ghosts over the small of your back the entire trek there.

He opens the passenger door for you and waits for you to get in before gently closing the door. It was driving you up the wall how gentle and warm he was being, and you almost wanted this to be a real date.

As he drives you both to Rossi's mansion, you speak softly to him, trying to ignore the way he steers with one hand on the wheel.

"Spencer texted me yesterday. He's bringing a girl he met at a coffee shop." You smile softly, meeting Aaron's gaze as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

"Really? That's good." He responds quietly, smiling fondly at the mention of Spencer.

"I know. He was worried about it all week, but I don't think he realizes how many women are attracted to him." You chuckle softly, nodding subtly toward the windshield as the stoplight turns green.

Aaron nods and grows quiet. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks up, voice laden with nerves. "I'm grateful that Dave made the bet."

"Really?" You respond in surprise, wondering if it was because he was going to be a couple hundred dollars richer by the end of the night.

"Yes because it gave me the push I needed to finally ask you out."

Your lips part a bit at his words, butterflies swinging around your stomach and buzzing to the tips of your fingers. "Aaron?"

"I don't want tonight to continue with the pretense that I only asked you out to win the bet." His voice is mellow and growing more confident by the syllable, eyes occasionally flitting to yours as he drives on the highway. "I've admired you for a long time as an agent and a friend... and it didn't take long for that to turn into something more for me."

"Why are you telling me this now?" You muster up the courage to ask, leaning a bit closer to the center console between your seats.

"Because I realized these feelings were only growing everyday I saw you. Even if it's selfish, I want to be honest with you." He braves another glance at you.

You let out a heavy breath full of relief as you smile brightly at him, the setting sun casting a glowing pool of pinks and oranges across your beaming face. "I like you too, Aaron. I have for a long time as well."

Aaron's free hand reaches for your hand, and you happily let him tangle his fingers with yours. It was clear that nothing more needed to be said between you both, the connection between your hearts growing stronger with every ounce of relief and adrenaline that filled you both.

The feeling of his calloused hand in yours keeps a buzzing warmth coursing through your body for the rest of the drive.

When you pull up to Rossi's opulent house, neither of you notice the curtains of the window by the front door moving as your team take turns peeking outside when they realize Aaron's car has arrived.

Aaron walks with you to the front door with his arm around your waist, a bright glint in his gaze as he's radiating unadulterated joy.

Neither of you even pretend to be sheepish when the door swings open and Penelope's squeals meet your ears, everyone piecing together the puzzle when they see Aaron holding you close.

"We were starting to think you both got lost." Rossi's voice rings out as he chuckles and beckons you both in, looking at Aaron with an impressed smirk.

"Thanks for having us, Dave." Aaron grins, squeezing your waist before loosening his hold to let Penelope tackle you in a hug, Emily and JJ's enthusiastic questions not far behind.

"When did that happen?" Emily gapes, excitedly poking your side and raising her eyebrows.

You hug JJ and answer her from over JJ's shoulder. "The day you all made the bet. I told you guys that Aaron's full of surprises."

"Remind me to never bet against you in the future. Well, someone get Derek over here." Emily shakes her head in disbelief as you all slowly migrate toward the kitchen.

Aaron's hand finds yours again as you triumphantly smile, "Oh right, I hope you all brought your wallets! It's time to pay up."

"My man!" Derek's voice echoes around the house as he emerges from the wine cellar, beaming at Aaron. "Where's your date?" He asks, clearly unaware of the proximity between you and Aaron.

Aaron holds up your joined hands and chuckles. "I think this means I win?"

Morgan nearly drops the bottle of wine in his grip as he swivels his head for a double take at you both.

Rossi leaps toward Morgan, arms extended forward as panic seeps into his eyes. "Careful! That's 1860 Madeira!"

Morgan groans and lets Rossi wrestle the bottle from his grip. "Will you ever let us win at something, man?"

Aaron's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb and shakes his head in amusement. "Not a chance."

[arbitrarykiwi]

heyyy!!! loser namgyu lover here. this is purely self indulgent but i would LOVE to see how you’d write loser namgyu w a more innocent reader? not naïve or childish or anything weird like that, just a less experienced one. i literally die for everything you write, the banter, the plot, the smut the everything!!!! can’t wait to see what you have coming. thank u!

Introvert Meets Innocence

LOSER NAMGYU LOVER MY BELOVED!! Ugh your one ask resonated with so many people that we got multiple people requesting more loser!nam-gyu x reader 🤭🤭 and who am I to deny the people of what they want!!! I hope you guys don’t mind I combined these asks, they all came in around the same time and all craved the awkward lil loser man!! I hope you all enjoy 😩 thank you again for requesting !!!!

Warnings: smut (18+), drug usage (weed), forced proximity, oral (f receiving), porn addict/hardly touches women!Namgyu, cowgirl, squirting, creampie, probably more, read at your own risk.

You didn’t expect to end up locked in a room with Nam-Gyu tonight. You really didn’t. You came with your friend to Thanos’ studio- she was dating him.

It was normal! You’ve hung out with them multiple times, you and your friend group going over to the studio after a night out to keep the party going and mingle with Thanos’ group. You had to admit, the majority of the people in the shared group were not the usual people you hung around. You didn’t mind them but they were all very loud and excitable, often knocking back shots quicker than you can count and immediately escalating into breaking furniture. The poor coffee table in the studio has been replaced more times than you could count.

They also all seemed to enjoy the hard drugs- ones you never wished to try- you’ve seen what it’s done to the ones who do it. You stick with weed. Your friends often called you the ‘innocent’ one of the group. You wished you could defend yourself- but when compared to the other people who hung around you were innocent. Hell, half the time you couldn’t even realizes a drug deal was going down in front of you until your friend told you later on.

So anytime you hung with this group- you frequently found yourself on the small side sectional of the studio, next to Nam-Gyu. He was the most tame out of the group. Sure he was odd, awkward even, but after a couple blunts or a line of whatever substance he chose, you could potentially get a conversation out of him. He was brash, often calling you names or criticizing your blunt rolling skills- but you found yourself drawn to him. He was strange, very introverted- he only spoke if he was spoke to. Anytime you saw him out at the club he looked like he wanted to go home. Even now in the studio with at least 10 other people laugh and yelling- you can see the way his nose scrunches in annoyance.

You remember one time a couple months ago, you and him were in the same spot as you are now. You were helping him break down the weed, he looked over to you- you were wearing some sweatpants and a sweater, a drastic difference from the outfits of your friends were wearing. You were curled up into the corner of the couch, nearing falling off the edge of the sectional, like you’re trying your best not to invade his space though he had so much

He scoffs as he looks back to his rolling tray, his face mostly hidden from your view by the hood of the jacket he was wearing. “You’re fucking weird.” He states simply. You can’t help but let out a baffled laugh and look over to him with an offended look. “Ohhhkayyy..” you draw out with a grimace. Trying to decide if you’re more offended by the comment or the fact he spoke to you first. “‘S not a bad thing. You’re just…weird.” He says, like it makes it any better.

He looks back over to you and sees your uneasy and upset look. He’s cursing to himself inwardly, he guessed that didn’t exactly come out the way he intended. “I- fuck.” He groans, you can’t help but laugh, he really doesn’t know how to talk to people. “You’re sitting so far away like I’m going to bite you, you’re dressed like that when all the girls you came with dressed like…” he looks over to your friends across the room, each dressed in short skirts or small tops- all gettinf cozy with men of their own. “..Like that.” He finishes. “You’re just…interesting..I guess that’s the better word.” He mumbles, looking back down to the rolling tray to avoid your eyes.

You seem to relax more, realizing he wasn’t insulting you. “I just didn’t want to be cold, I was wearing something like that at the club. We just stopped home and I changed. Wanted to be comfy.” You shrug. “And I didn’t want to be in your space.” You say softly, fingers working against the weed to break it down, adding to the grown pile on the rolling tray you had in your lap.

“You’re not in my space.” He says, it’s a gruff tone. You smiles softly to yourself but think nothing of it, returning back to your task. You hear him sigh, almost like he’s annoyed, “That was an invitation for you to move closer. You’re practically falling off the couch.”

So now anytime you’re sitting by him helping him roll, you’re closer to him. Thighs almost touching.

Now how did you end up locked in the guest room that was upstairs in the studio!? Well that happened because your friend and Thanos seemed to think they needed to play Cupid. They had enough of the awkward slow burn of sexual tension that seemed to be brewing between you two. And it seemed like neither of you guys realized it. Thanos was tired of seeing the little to no game Nam-Gyu had- sure he would throw a ‘you look nice’ here and there or very obviously eye fuck you, yet Nam-Gyu would do nothing about it. And your friend was tired of you missing every hint Nam-Gyu seemed to throw at you- sure they were piss poor attempts at flirting and most of the times his tone seemed like he was bored with everything around him- but she saw how he stared at you, how he bit his lip harder when you came around, moving over on the couch to make room for your designated spot.

If you two were going to act like nervous awkward high schoolers- they’d play the same game. Somehow Thanos and one of your friends managed to wrangle you two upstairs, throw you two in the room and shut the door behind you guys.

Instinctively Nam-Gyu rushed over to the door, trying to pull it open but it was obvious something was placed on the other side to keep the door shut.

Nam-gyu furiously bangs on the door, “Dude what the fuck! Open the fucking door!” He shouts, pulling at the knob to no avail.

“You two are going to play 60 minutes in heaven!” Your friend calls through the door, you’re furrowing your eyebrows. “Isn’t it 7 minutes in heaven…” you mumble to yourself, confused. Nam-gyu seems to hear you because he’s muttering a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ like you’re missing a whole part of the joke. You then realize exactly what situation you’re in, locked in a room with him and now you’re expected to be in that room for 60 minutes. You’re running over to the door as well, banging on it. “You can’t fucking keep us in here for 60 minutes!!” You call out. There’s no answer and the door still wouldn’t budge. But you still don’t seem to connect the dots, you don’t make the connection between your friend’s words and what’s going on.

You step back, your body temperature rising. This was so fucked of them to do. Knowing your attempts at opening the door are futile, you begin to walk back to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Nam-gyu is still at the door, furiously jiggling the knob for a few more seconds before finally giving up. He’s huffing out an annoyed breath and sinking back away from the door.

He joins you on the bed, sitting a bit away from you, it seems now he’s awkwardly shrinking away like you’ll bite. His hood has fallen off of his head, allowing you to see his face. The corner of his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, his face has a slight flush to it, his leg bouncing up and down rapidly. Every movement of his leg makes the bed sheets rustle, it’s almost maddening, it’s the only sound you hear in the room.

“Are you anxious?” Your voice cuts through the silence like a knife. He’s scoffing, turning his head away from you and bringing once of his hands up to his face, biting at his thumb nail. What a fantastic fucking question, he thought. He couldn’t believe you were asking that, wasn’t it obvious? “No.” He curtly responds, his tone cold and terse. You shrink back in response, shifting away from him. “But your leg-“ you mutter out, he cuts you off, “It’s nothing. I’m not anxious.” He spits out a bit harshly.

“Okay…” you say glaring at him, fingers pulling at the fabric of the comforter. “We can probably just sit here for a bit and they’ll let us out.” You mumble, eyes trained on your feet. “They won’t.” He says… he sure knows how to swoon with his words. You’re furrowing your eyebrows and rolling your eyes.

In his mind he’s fighting multiple demons. He regrets telling Thanos you were his type. He wishes he wasn’t so fucked up the other week that he let spill he searches up porn categories that you fit. He searches for women with your hair, your eye color, your body type. He didn’t know why he let that slip to Thanos, he blamed it on the mass amount of coke in his system at the time. But ever since he said that, the purple haired rapper has been trying to get him to make a move.

He tried, as best he could, he wasn’t the best with flirting. Lingering touches on your hands as you pass the blunt, a hand laid out on your upper thigh as you talk in a group, maybe a small compliment here and there- saying your hair looked nice or commenting on a new shirt he saw you wear, hed even offer his lap for you to lay on when your head was beginning to hurt from the loud bass playing in the studio. He thought it was obvious, and maybe to someone else it was- but not to you. You’d just giggle and thank him for his compliments, even place your hand over his on his thigh and play with his rings only to go home without hardly saying bye to him. You seemed to never notice he had a thing for you.

But he knew that Thanos orchestrated this whole thing. And he knew that the rapper would not let him out of this room until something happened, until he finally made a move. “And how do you know that? They’re just pulling a dumb prank.” You say, he can hear the attitude in your voice, how you really can’t see the underlying message of what was going on.

He’s struggling, he really is. He wasn’t a virgin, but he might as well be. He’s maybe slept with three women, all one night stands where he was far too high to even remember it. He honestly hated dealing with people and that included any woman he took home for a quick fuck. He admittedly got most of his knowledge from watching porn. He spent countless nights at his desk chair, cock in his hand, chasing his third release of the night. And when he met you, his search history was flooded with key search terms that applied to your physical attributes. He was a fucking loser and Thanos expected him to make a move on you!?

“Do you really not see what’s going on here?” He’s asking looking at you with furrowed brows, his harsh tone making you shrink back from him. He’s immediately regretting the way he say it and inwardly scolding himself- he didn’t mean for it to come out that way. “60 minutes in heaven….a play on 7 minutes in heaven…” he says, drawing out his words like it would make you realize. “Yeah…so? Just a stupid change of the name I guess,” you respond shrugging.

He’s pinching his brow in disbelief. You really were so innocent. You really couldn’t see the situation your friend just forced you into.

You pout, starting to think maybe he didn’t like you at all. He was flinching away from you like you were poisonous, his face was flushed and pale like he was physically getting ill around you. “They’re not going to let us out. They locked us in here because they want us to fuck.”

His words make you gawk at him, he can’t be serious. “W-woah what?!” You say incredulously, “N-no that’s definitely not it. They’re just…” your words trail off into nothing as you begin to think of any other reason as to why your friend and Thanos threw you into a locked room with Nam-gyu.

“They’re just what?!” He asks turning back to face you fully, his pupils were blown, his eyes wide and nervous. “You’re so fucking naïve you know that?” He huffs, exasperated. He’s standing up off the bed and pacing around the room a couple times before he stands in front of you. You’re looking at him with an even more confused look, your eyebrows twisted into a look of hurt at his description of you. “I-“ your words are caught in your throat as you stare up at him from your spot on the bed.

“I ran my fucking mouth and told Thanos I wanted to fuck you. He was fed up of me talking about it and sick of nothing happening, me not doing anything about it- that he forced us in here to urge something to happen.” He’s rambling, his hands running through his hair, it looks like his world was crumbling. It’s like he genuinely thought you had no interest in him what so ever.

“Y-you want to fuck me?” You ask, like you misheard him- an uneasy, questioning tone in your voice as if you thought you made everything he said up and now you’re embarrassed you have to ask for clarification. He laughs, striding forward and planting his hands on the bed on either side of your thighs. He’s bent down, face level with yours, “Yes. I don’t know how you haven’t fucking seen it. I’ve beat my fucking dick to the thought of you for months.” He’s responding.

Your mouth drops open, you really don’t think he’s realizing what he’s saying- but to you this is all new news. You never thought he had any attraction to you so you never wanted to push yourself on him. Sure you found him attractive- fuck, he was so attractive- but you never would have thought he’d want to be with someone like you. You were tame compared to the rest of the crowd he found himself around. You figured he’d want a wild party girl. “I had no idea…” you mutter, looking at him like you’ve been bestowed the secrets of the universe.

He laughs, it’s almost mocking, “Of course you didn’t…” he’s looking over your face for any sort of reciprocation in your face but when he finds none and only finds confusion and surprise, he’s stepping back from you, realizing what he just admitted to and goes violently red. “L-look I’m sorry, just forget I s-said anything and we can just sit here until they unlock the fucking door.” He’s rambling again, thinking he royally fucked everything up. He didn’t know how to talk to girls, let alone you. You were different than any of the drugged out girls he’s fucked- and there wasn’t many.

You’re launching yourself off the bed and making your way over to him. You’re grabbing the sides of his jacket and yanking him downwards. You’re kissing him with months of pent up emotion. He’s fumbling, he’s not really sure what to do. His lips are messy against yours, his hands hovering in the air above your hips. When you release his jacket to cup his face in both of your hands- steadying him and grounding him to reality. He falls into a steadier rhythm, his hands placing themselves on your hips.

His hands are shaking on your hips, it’s endearing. He finally falls into a pattern that has your head swimming, you’re melting into him, beginning to moan softly into his mouth. The sounds you make send lightning up his spine, it’s better than he ever imagined. He’s backing you up to the bed, your knees connect with the edge of the bed and you both fall onto the plush mattress.

His hands reattach themselves to your waist, pushing up your sweater to run his hands along your skin. Your warmth against his hands makes him moan into your mouth. You can feel his erection against your stomach already. Was he really already worked up? You really had no idea how he could be. You didn’t see yourself as an overly sexual person so the idea that he was so utterly, sexually, attracted to you didn’t sit in your mind.

But you’re letting out a blissful sigh at his touch, your lips moving feverishly against his. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this.” He admits as he pulls away, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, his hand slipping up your sweater to grope at your breasts. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, letting out a soft moan at just the feeling of the soft flesh in his hands like he’s never touched a breast in his life.

The whole thing just makes you twitch under him, arching your back into his touch. “Can’t believe you wanted this…would have made a move so much sooner..” he says in a daydreaming voice, like you’re only a figment of his imagination.

You reach up and grab his face and pull him in to kiss you again. He’s caught off guard, a gasp he lets out is swallowed by your lips. You pull back with a giggle, “You were rambling.” He shakes his head chuckling and leaning back in to kiss you again, “My bad..couldn’t help it.” He says, lips molding with yours once again.

This time the kiss is more smooth, he’s carful and kissing you with a swiftness that has your mind reeling. You’re moaning into his mouth and arching up into his hand that still works at your breast. His mouth parts, his tongue licking at your lips. You eagerly part your lips, your tongue twirling with his in a mess of mixed saliva.

When he pulls back he’s staring down at your kiss swollen lips and blissed out expression, he thinks he must of won the lottery, this right here- you- you were the jackpot. He’s quickly pushing up your sweater and pulling down your bralette. When your tits fall free of the confines, jiggling as they settle, his cock jumps in his boxers.

Your arms quickly cross over your chest, on instinct, to try and cover yourself. He chuckles at your reaction, it’s cute, so innocent, it just makes his cock strain harder in his jeans. “C’mon….lemme see.” He whines, it’s like a kid who’s pouting. “S’not fair. You’re still clothed.” You say, a pout forming on your lips.

It’s almost comical the speed at which he gets up off the bed and hastily shrugs his jacket off, pulls off his shirt and drops his pants to the ground. You’re giggling as he nearly trips over his jeans as he kicks them off, climbing back onto the bed and straddling your form. “Can I see now?” He begs, leaning down to kiss you quickly, “please…” he whispers, kissing you again. His voice has a whining lilt to it that has your arms falling away from your chest and your head turning away so you didn’t have to look at him.

“Fucking hell…” he breathes out with a soft laugh of disbelief. His hands return to their spot, one hand on each breast, but this time his movements are soft, he gently kneads your tits before brushing his thumbs lightly over your nipples, he’s fixated on the way they begin to harden into soft peaks under his touch. “Perfect set of tits…” he’s mumbling, more to himself than you before he’s lowering his head and wrapping his lips around your nipple.

You’ve had sex a couple times, but truthfully it’s been with shitty men who, as you now come to find out, didn’t pay hardly enough attention to you. You don’t think you’ve ever felt the feeling of someone’s mouth and tongue working at your breasts like they were some divine offering that’s been bestowed upon them. But that’s exactly what Nam-gyu is doing. Your back is arching off the bed, your hand coming to cradle his head to your chest.

He looks up to you while his mouth is latched onto your nipple, tongue ruthlessly flicking over the hard peak as he surveys your every reaction. The way your eyebrows furrow and upturn, the way you bit your cheek more than your lip when you’re trying to silence your moans. He realizes then that you obviously hadn’t had much experience- the little pleasure he’s giving you now already has you a mess. And he loves it.

He pulls off of your nipple with a wet ‘pop’, moving his face back to be level with yours. He connects your lips with his, kissing you with months of built up tension that you can feel he’s pouring into the kiss. It’s frenzied, it’s needy, it’s desperate. When you two break for air, his hands are playing with the waist band of your sweatpants. You can feel the way his hands nervously shake- just ever so slightly. It makes you feel a little better- he’s just as nervous as you were.

He looks to where his fingertips slip below the fabric of your sweatpants, then back up to you. You both sit there in silence for a minute, it’s awkward- but you’re both nervous, both overly excited.

“We can sto-“ He begins to speak first, you frantically cut him off by lifting your hips up off the bed and speaking “No, no! P-please, continue.” You whine desperately, finally finding your voice when the threat of this possibly ending hung in the air.

He visibly relaxes, shoulders dropping as he laughs a bit, trying to slow his heart rate. He’s leaning down and kissing you again as he begins to pull your sweatpants off your legs. You help by kicking them off your feet, both of you fumbling to get the fabric off. You’re both laughing into the kiss. Once he finally pulls the sweatpants fully off of you and tossing them into a corner to the room, he’s focusing more on the kiss.

He stops laughing, slowing the speed of the kiss down to a languid pace that allows you to feel every micro-movement of the kiss. His hands run up your bare legs, feeling your bare skin along his finger tips. He pulls away from the kiss to look down at your legs. You’re wearing a cute set of panties, they’re a light blue with little daisies spores around the fabric. Christ, just when he thought you couldn’t get any better.

He’s moving himself to be kneeling in between your legs, hands running up your legs and pulling you closer to him, letting your legs hand loosely around his hips, your cunt resting tight against the tent in his boxers. He’s observing you like any movement he could make may send you running, it’s makes you try and shrink back into the plush mattress.

You look so perfect like this, he thinks. You’re splayed out on the bed, hair spread around you like some halo, your hips lifted upwards by where he held you, and your hands were gripping the hem of your large sweatshirt to try and pull it down over your panties. You looked so innocent.

“You look good…don’t have to hide.” He hums, hands running up your thighs in a soothing motion- yet you can still feel the slight jitter in his touch. It’s endearing. You slowly drop your hands from the sweater and opt to grip the bed sheets in a white-knuckled grip instead. “I w-wanna make you feel good.” He chokes out, his voice nervously cracking.

You bite your lip and nod, “mhm..o-okay.” You say, your hips mindlessly starting to shift against his cock, dragging your warm cunt along his shaft. You watch as he grits his teeth and his grip on your hips tighten. He thinks he could have cum right there in his boxers when he felt the way your pussy wrapped around his length through your panties. You felt so dirty, you’ve never been this vulgar with anyone. Your movements were experimental, moving purely off instinct.

He’s gripping the sides of your panties, fingers pulling at the elastic, he pauses looking back up to you for some sign to continue. You nod again, “f-fuck please.” You whine out. He’s pulling your panties down and throwing them in an unknown location in the room like your pants. When he finally gets to see your bare cunt, his cock is jumping, visibly, in his boxers. “Fucking hell.” He’s mumbling, hands coming to grip at your inter thighs and push them apart. “I-“ he chokes on his words, he wasn’t nothing more than to say something suave that has you melting into his palms- but he can’t.

The sight of your glistening cunt makes his mind go blank. He really thought that maybe sometime down the line he may have got lucky and made out with you- never in his life expected to get to see your perfect pink cunt- and here we was, at a VIP seat, front and center to a show he’s been dreaming about for months.

“Stop looking at it like that…” you whine, hiding behind your hands once again. He finally realizes how hard he was staring and shakes his head with a bashful laugh. “‘M sorry I can’t help it…” he says, his hands massaging your inner thighs, pulling at the flesh to spread you open better. He sucks in a sharp breath, when he sees your pink cunt and your tight entrance clenching around nothing, the idea of sinking in your cute cunt was enough to make him nearly cum in his boxers for what felt like the 6th time in under thirty minutes.

“It’s so embarrassing…” you whine, your bottom lip catching between your teeth as your eyes are locked on him- watching in anticipation of what he’s going to do next. “S’not….” He mumbles, bending over to place a kiss on your hip. He’s glad you only see it as foreplay, because in reality he’s stalling. He knows if he fucks you right now or even touches your pussy- he’s going to cum.

The countless nights of beating his dick to the idea of you, looking up porn videos only to imagine that it was you and him reenacting the scenes that made his dick so hard- none of it compared to the real thing. He spent weeks conjuring up all the smooth things he’d whisper into your ear if he ever got the chance to fuck you. All that practice was for nothing because when he’s here, having the opportunity, and seeing the real thing- his minds blank, he’s choking on his words, he can hardly speak.

“I’ve dreamed of this…” he hums out, his eyes darting all over your body. “For months….you being in this exact position…” he adds, you’re sure he doesn’t realize how his clothed cock begins to grind hard against your pussy. Your arousal beginning to make a dark patch in his boxers. He does this for a few moments, simply just looking at you and rocking his erection against your cunt. You reach a hand out, nails raking against his abdomen. “F-fuck, please…” you whisper out a breathy voice, eyebrows upturned in a pleading expression. “Nam-Gyu I need you to touch me…p-please.”

His mind is shrouded by a lust he’s never known before. The sweet tone of your pleading voice causing his eyes to roll back. He draws in a hissing breath, opening his eyes to look down at you. He begins to move, adjusting himself. He lays flat on the bed, his hands still holding your thighs open. He levels his face with your soaking pussy, his breath fanning over your folds.

When he looks up at you from between your thighs, he sees your worried expression, almost bordering on unease. “You okay?” He asks, his voice oddly soft, his chin resting on your stomach. You nod frantically, your face flushed red. “Y-yes!” You fumbled out, trying to show that you did want this. “I just uh-“ you swallow thickly “I know I said I wasn’t a virgin…and I’m not…but I’ve never uh…” you say, your eyes looking everywhere but him.

“Don’t tell me no one’s ever eaten your cunt before.” He says, his eyes wide with surprise. You squeak and cover your face in embarrassment, “Ugh don’t say it like that!” You say bashfully. You look at him through your fingers and slowly bring your hand down, you finally nod. “Y-yes no one’s ever…eaten me out.” It sounds weird to say, it almost makes you cringe.

He looks like you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing ever, like he doesn’t believe you. But with the way you’re closing your thighs to try and shield your pussy from him and can’t even say the act yourself tells him you’re not lying. “Oh my god…” he says with bewilderment, “There’s no way no one’s ever wanted to eat your perfect pussy before…” he mutters, his hands releasing his hold on your hips to push at your knees, forcing your legs open so he can properly see you.

You want to close your legs and sink into the pillows, try to avoid his gaze but the way he looks at your cunt, pupils blown and mouth parted, you don’t, instead your arching your hips up like you’re trying to chase his mouth. “I mean really…” he muses, his hands running up your thighs, pushing them open further. His hands stop on your inner thighs, thumbs pulling at your labias and pulling you open obscenely wide. It makes you whine, embarrassed. You don’t think you’ve ever been in this vulnerable before, this exposed.

“Cute pussy like this…” he adds, his thumbs beginning to run up and down the sides of your cunt, watching as you spill even more arousal, “Better than any porn I’ve seen… better than I imagined.”

You’re sure if he wasn’t so entranced by your pussy he’d be embarrassed by what he said, openly comparing you to the porn he watches so frequently- even saying you’re better. He’s looking at your cunt like he’s a complete virgin who’s never seen a pussy in his life. It just makes you more hot.

He’s placing a kiss on your clit, his eyes rolling back and a moan falling from his lips when he feels you jolt against the bed. He pulls back, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips clean of the wetness that covered his lip.

It’s like something inside him snaps when he gets his first taste of you. He’s situating himself quickly, laying flat on the bed and his hands sliding under your thighs to wrap themselves around your plush thighs. He’s diving into your pussy, tongue spread wide as he messily laps at your folds. Your hand instantly flys to grip onto his hair, calling out a choked gasp of his name that only makes him begin to devour you faster.

He’s so fucking sloppy, there’s no real technique. You can tell he’s doing it to simply taste you, to lather his tongue in your arousal. He’s using his hands on your thighs to guide your hips to grind on his tongue like he’s coaxing more of your saccharine arousal out of your cunt. Even with the sporadic messy movements it has you writhing underneath him.

“O-oh fuck.” You cry out, eyebrows turned upwards in pleasure and your hand comes to grip at his hair. He’s moaning into your cunt, sending vibrations over your clit. “Taste so fuckin good.” He’s mumbling against your pussy. “Can’t believe I’m the first one to taste this sweet cunt.” His words make your eyes screw shut and your face flush red. The vulgarity of the words making you feel hotter than before, you never thought that such words would only cause your cunt to throb even harder.

His tongue licks a long strip up the entirety of your cunt, stopping at your clit to circle over it a couple times, he sucks it into his mouth, eyes looking up at the way your chest heaves and your eyes screw shut. It’s adorable really, the new sensation he’s introducing you to seeming like it’s almost too much for you. He’s thankful you seem to be enjoying yourself because admittedly…he’s using techniques he’s seen on the porn videos he watched. “O-oh my god…f-feel so- hah!” You’re right words are cut off by a high pitched squeal, your hips jolting against his face. “You like that? That feel good?” He mumbles against your pussy.

You nod, hand gripping tighter at his hair, “Y-yes just like that!” You’re sobbing out. His tongue is vicious, licking at your cunt like a dog lapping at spring water on a hot day. When you manage to collect yourself enough to lift your head up to look down at him another moan falls from your lips at the sight. His eyes are screwed shut in concentration, listening to every sound you let out to make sure he’s doing it right, and he’s fucking his cock into the mattress of the bed. You can see the way his hips grind into the comforter rubbing his cock along the fabric of his boxers and the bed, moaning into your pussy.

“Oh my god….holy fuck…” you say breathlessly, your head falling back to the pillows, your eyes rolling back. Your hips grind into his tongue and he lets you do whatever you need- letting you use his hair to drag you up and down your cunt. You’re blinded by pleasure, you don’t even realize you’re doing it, all you know is it feels so fucking good.

He still thinks he had to be dreaming or maybe that he was far too high because never in his life did he think he would get to devour a cunt like yours. He was eternally thankful that no one else had done this before him, no one had eaten you out- because truth be told he was nowhere near perfect at the craft. He was messy, no real technique, becoming too excited to have his face in your pussy that he was focused on tasting you rather than coaxing an orgasm out of you. But it still felt so good. He couldn’t help but to fuck his cock into the mattress, he was so hard it was painful. Every mouthful of your arousal he swallows makes the throbbing worse.

You know this was a thing that could be done during sex- but you didn’t have a long rap sheet. A few men at most who were lack luster at best- and none of them did this. None of them gave you the pleasure of having a tongue lathing over your sweet cunt. Even if his tongue was erratic and inexperienced, it still caused your back to arch heavenward and you to cry out a slurred moan of his name.

He’s pulling away from your pussy in a mess of your arousal, his tongue hanging out as he’s panting. “L-look I-“ his breath catches in his throat, words cut short by a soft whine ripping through his throat, his hips still humping the bed. “I’m gonna cum inside my f-fucking boxers if I keep eating your pussy, I-i gotta be inside you..” he’s saying, almost pleading. He’s crawling back up your dazed form and hovering over your face.

You meet his gaze, you’re inches apart- breathing in each other’s air. You can see his face glistening with your juices, his lips swollen and red- just like your cunt. He wants to kiss you, but something stops him. He’s nervous and he fucking hates it. He was just tongue fucking your pussy and now he’s nervous to kiss you?! What kind of fucking sick round about anxiety is that. It’s so weird to him…the way you look up at him with such an innocent look- like you’re not staining the sheets below you- it drives him absolutely insane.

You look up at him like a deer and headlights and bite your lip, letting out a nervous but desperate ‘mhm! mhm!”, grabbing his face and giving in to the temptation you’ve had since you seen his face covered in your arousal. You pull him into a hungry kiss. It was so filthy, unlike anything you’ve done. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue he’s moaning into your mouth in high pitched, muffled whine. The heat you feel within your lower stomach is a new powerful sensation that makes you start canting your hips upward in the air, trying to get sensation from something that isn’t there.

His hands are all over you, mapping out your body under his finger tips, groping at your body like he could never get enough- and he couldn’t. One of his hands departs from your flesh as he fumbles with his boxers. He’s pulling them down hastily and throwing them to the side. You want to pull away and give him the same treatment he gave you, but you can’t. He’s gripping your waist and flipping the two of you over, settling you on his lower thighs. You’re letting out a surprised squeak and falling forward onto his chest.

His hands smooth down the expanse of your body. Down your shoulder blades, the curve of your back, the plush of your hips, and then finally settling on your ass. His nails dig into the flesh, his head tilting back and he’s groaning. He needs to feel your ass bounce against him as you ride him- he feels like he’d die if he doesn’t get it soon. You look down at his stomach and whine when you see his thick cock.

For someone who was so…awkward and standoffish, the massive cock between his legs has your heart speeding up even more. You would think with something like that…he’d be fucking girls left and right. But he wasn’t, he was weird, and that excited you. The weird boy with a monster cock. You’re sure you haven’t ever had one this big, you’re almost nervous to take it.

You are nervous.

You experimentally shift your hips up, placing your cunt on his thick length, the warm wetness that envelops the underside of his cock makes his whole body jolt underneath you. And when you roll your hips, dragging your sweet cunt up and down his length, soft folds caressing his girth- his chest is rising and falling in heavy breaths and his hands move up from your ass to your hips, grip bruising as his head falls back into the pillows.

“I-if you keep that up I-i’ll cum before I even fuck you.” He admits through gritted teeth, his eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched. Despite what he said, his hips move in motion with yours, with every grind of your hips your clit drags against the veins that run along the underside of his cock. “I-I’m not sure it will fit…” you mumble, embarrassed but telling the truth.

He stiffens and lets out a pornographic moan. You had no idea what you’re doing to him. The way you said it tells him you truly don’t know the effect those words would have on him. You said it so innocently, you weren’t even trying to tease him. He couldn’t decide if that made it worse or better because he is fighting everything in him not to cum just from your words alone like some pathetic virgin.

“F-fuck!” He growls out, canting his hips upwards so the tip of his cock head presses ever so slightly into the tight entrance of your cunt before sliding upwards to rub against your clit. “It-it’ll fit.” He nods frantically,

His hands lifting you up just the slightest bit. “Mhm…yeah you- fuck… you can take it…” he’s mumbling, and you realize he’s not even talking to you at this point- he’s talking to your pussy.

You’re whining, pulling the sweatshirt you still had on up with one hand so you could look between your legs and see the spectacle before you. You’re slowly sinking down onto him, when the fat tip of his cock pushes into you, a silent cry comes from your lips. Nam-gyu is fairing no better, when he feels your cunt begin to wrap around his cock he’s tossing his head back and letting out a moan that’s mixed with a laugh of disbelief.

You were a fucking dream. Perfect, even. He felt like he was tainting you, defiling the sweet innocence you carry. It’s an exhilarating feeling. You sink down lower on his thick cock, sucking him into your sopping cunt. “O-oh my f-fucking god.” You moan out, the stretch of your pussy around his cock sending jolts of pleasure and a burning pain up your spine. It’s a feeling that you’re immediately addicted to and want more of. “Y-you’re so g-god damn tight…” he says, you’re breath hitches at the tone, whiny- almost pathetic- like you’re cunt is squeezing the life out of his cock.

You’re lowering yourself down faster, you can see he’s only halfway in and yet it feels like he’s ripping you apart. “O-oh s-shit.” Nam-gyu growls, lifting his head up off the bed, eyebrows knitted together. His hands clutch your hips in a painful force that stops your hips from moving further down his throbbing length. “S-slow the fuck down. O-ho my f-fucking god.” He spits out between heaving breaths. You can see his stomach tense up, his nose scrunched and eyes screwed shut. He has to give himself the moment to breathe, to collect himself so he can fully enjoy what your cunt has to offer him. He does not want to cum quick…he cannot ruin this.

Your hands plant themselves on his chest, falling forward a bit. Your hips swivel in the air, grinding onto the part of his cock that’s already in you. “P-please I want to feel all of you.” You whine in a soft plea. He’s groaning, removing his hands off your hips to bring them up to his face, rubbing his palms against his flesh as he allows you to do take more of him into your tight walls. You sink down more, nails digging at the skin of his chest as he fills you. He’s moaning behind his hands, shielding his face from you as you finally take him all the way into your pussy. Your pelvis connecting with his with a soft wet ‘smack’.

Echoing moans fill the room, his hands coming to grip at your hips rapidly, holding you down like you were going to get up and leave him.

“‘S so big.”

“Fuck you’re s-so t-tight.”

You two speak at the same time in the same breathless tone. The feeling of him fully sheathed into your tight pussy is one that you could never, ever replicate. He’s reaching so deep inside you, you can feel his tip prod at your cervix. He’s splitting you open in a wicked way, ruining you. Nam-gyu opens his eyes and tilts his head to look down at where your pussy rests flush against his pelvis. Already, you’re leaking onto his skin, coating his skin in a sheen of milky-white arousal.

You lean even further forward, resting your forearms near the sides of his head on the pillow below him. You pick your hips up, the slow drag of his cock against your walls has you wincing and biting back a pathetic whine. You drop back down, the two of you moaning out in tandem. The addictive feeling of his cock completely impaling you makes you repeat the motion. Over and over and over. You’re vicious, picking up the pace with each drop of your hips. You don’t even seem to realize the effect you have on him, all you’re focused on is just how good it feels.

“F-fuck s-slow down….” Nam-Gyu is practically begging. “G-gotta savor it, y-yeah?” He tries to reason with you, but you don’t seem to oblige. You collapse forward completely, head resting in the crook of his neck. You’re shaking your head ‘no’ against him, hips driving up and down on his cock with no restraint. An obscene, wet, sloppy, slapping sound fills the room each time you slam your hips back down onto his, driving his cock deep inside your pussy.

When you disregard his plea and do exactly the opposite he swears he might have to marry you- he’d never say that openly though. His hands move to your ass, gripping the flesh until small crescents form where his nails dig into the soft skin. In his hands, he can feel the way the fat of your ass bounces, rippling underneath his palms every time you move. He’s using his hands as leverage to help lift you up and down, heightening the pleasure you’re experiencing even more.

In the minimal experience you’ve had, it’s always been painfully vanilla- always missionary. You don’t understand why you’ve never done this sooner, the way his cock dives so deep into you, reaching places no one else has reached before- it’s making you dumb. Your mind is blank, your vision hazy- all you can think about it’s reaching your climax. And every, delicious drop of your ass onto his pelvis pushes you closer and closer to that sweet release.

You two don’t even care about the fact there’s a whole group of people downstairs or even potentially listening in on what’s happening in the room. Moans, whines, and heavy breaths bounce off the walls- surely echoing throughout the studio you’re getting railed in.

“F-feels s-so g-good.” You cry out, your lips right next to his ear, each word broken up by you bouncing down on his cock. You push yourself up a bit to look at the man below you. Nam-gyu is just as fucked out as you are if not more. When he feels you sit up his eyes open, being greeted with the beautiful sight of your tits bouncing in his face with each thrust. He can’t help himself, he’s forcing his head and upper body up off the bed to latch his mouth on your chest. His teeth and tongue are working in a devious partnership against your skin, marking your flesh in blue, red and purple marks.

He pulls away from your breasts, head falling back onto the pillows, his hands tightening on your ass as he begins to fuck himself up into you. “Y-you have n-no fucking….god damn….no fucking clue how good you f-feel.” He rasps out, “riding m-me so we-well.” His voice is cracking, becoming higher pitched, he’s close. The dirty words and praise, though not spoken with a deep raspy voice, makes you lean back forward to hide your face in his neck to avoid eye contact.

You sink into his body, your back arching more. It allows your hips to snap down onto his in a barbaric way. Nam-gyu moans out your name. Hearing his name fall your lips is a nearly angelic song that has your eyes fluttering shut. He can hardly take it, he’s sure if you kept this up he was going to be ridden to tears.

He can’t hold back anymore, the tight squeeze of your cunt and the way you are coating his cock, it’s too much- he’s going to cum. “P-please let me… ohmygod… l-let me cum inside..” he’s whining into your ear, your nails dig in harder to his chest at his words. You hear him let out a strangled gasp when your cunt clenches down on him, “o-oh fuck you liked that?!” He asks breathlessly, his cock still jackhammering up into you. “You like the idea of me cumming in your pussy? Fuckin’ squeezing me so hard when i-im talking about it” He asks again, rambling in a needy tone. The words have you cringing in embarrassment- never in your life did you think the idea would turn you on- but it does.

You’re nodding into his shoulder, a weak and breathless “yes, I-inside” coming from your lips, your hair tickling his neck. “Oh my god y-yes, f-fuck thankyouthankyou.” He’s babbling out. He shifts, bending his knees and planting his feet on the bed. He begins to drill is cock up into your cunt. It’s a pace that has you crying out into his neck, jolting against his body mindlessly. His grip on your ass is bruising, he’s using the flesh as leverage to drag you down on his thick length. “Gonna feel so f-fucking good to fill you up. Fuck! Cunts’ gonna look so good with my cum spilling out.”

He’s mindlessly babbling, the feeling of your tight cunt gripping his dick like a vice has him in a dumb haze. All he can think about is cumming balls deep inside your walls. “Y-you close?” He asks, his shoulder nudging your face to get you to pull your head up to look at him. You use all your strength to sit up, looking down at him. Your hair falls down the sides of your face, shielding him in a low light that makes him look even more attractive, highlighting his sharp features and darkening his eyes even more than they were.

You nod, your hand splaying out on his sternum to keep yourself upright. You look down at him and nod, your body bouncing with watch thrust. You let out a ‘uh-huh.’ through your bit lip, your orgasm beginning to blossom from deep within you. Every time his fat cock-head bullies its way deep inside your cunt, brushing against your g-spot to kiss against your cervix, you’re letting out a wanton cry of his name.

“C-cum for me…f-fuck…need to feel you soak my cock.” One of his hands is slipping in between the two of you, his thumb rubbing against your clit, flicking against the sensitive bud in rapid motions. “F-fuck! Nam-gyu! Oh my fucking god!” You cry out, your eyebrows turning up as you feel yourself about to cum. He doesn’t let up, he’s brutally thrusting into your cunt a wet sloshing sound begins to come from your cunt.

It feels different than any orgasm you’ve had, you’ve never felt something like this. It almost feels like too much. You almost think you’re going to pee. “W-wait ‘s too much!” You’re whining out, despite your protests your hips are rutting against his fingers and slamming back into each one of his thrusts. “F-fuck are you gonna squirt??” He asks with a proud grin on his face- you really were just like his dreams.

“W-what?” You struggle to get out. Fuck you just got even better, so innocent you don’t even know what’s about to happen. He’s only seen it in porn, and he’s watched enough of it to know the signs- the way your cunt keeps getting louder and the way you’re beginning to shake violently- he knows what’s about to happen. But you don’t and it’s so fucking cute.

“Relax. L-let go, ‘s normal.” He rasps out, fingers working quicker at your clit and his cock piledriving up into your sopping hole with no remorse. You have no other option but to listen to him. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, you’re falling forward onto him and sobbing out into his neck. Your orgasm is so much harder than anyone than before, your cum gushing out of you like a fountain. Anytime he thrusts into you it splashes out of you in a lewd spray that coats the sheets below you.

The way your cunt is sucking his cock in like you’re trying to milk him and spasming violently around him sends him hurling towards his end. You can feel the way his thick load fills you, every rope painting your insides white. He lazily continues to thrust up into you, trying to drag out his orgasm and yours. You can feel his cum spill out of you and around his cock only for the next thrust to fuck it back into you.

You’re panting into his neck, soft moans falling from your lips as his softening cock grinds into you. He thinks he’s in heaven and he never wants to leave. His legs flatten out, dropping you all the way down on his lap. You whine, overstimulated. He’s running a hand up your back in a soothing motion. “I k-know..please…just want to be inside you a little longer.” He coos in a pleading voice. You don’t oppose, you just nod limply into his neck, lips placing light kisses on his skin. It was an honest innocent gesture, but when he feels your lips against his skin his cock is begging to harden inside you.

You two have been far too focused on other things to notice that when you were locked in this room- you weren’t actually locked in. Thanos and your friend only stayed to hold the door for a couple minutes, the drugs downstairs calling to them louder than the idea of keeping the door shut. The door would have been able to be opened by the time you born first sat down on the bed.

The loser!namgyu / awkward!namgyu is becoming a fave of mine. It’s so fucking fun to write!!! He’s so ummy 😩. I hope all you Loser!namgyu lovers enjoyed!!! - <3 kiwi

Queue for the next 5 upcoming requests: DeadbeadBabydaddy! Namgyu x reader smut , Namgyu x reader angst into fluff , Myung-Gi x reader x Thanos smut , Sub!Needy!Nam-gyu x reader x Thanos , Thanos x reader smut

If you don’t see your request on the queue just yet, don’t fret 🫶 I’m working my way through them and after each one is posted the queue will update to the next 5 requests that I have in my inbox. I try my best to work in the order of which they were received. Requests are still open just be aware that it will take a bit for me to get to it, but I absolutely will get to it!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tattoos: Christmas

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Baby!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Teeny

The babbling on the baby monitor is what wakes Ingrid.

It's still dark out, no source of light spilling out through the gap in the curtains and there's a slight chill in the air that tells her the heating hasn't come on just yet.

But none of that is what wakes her, safe and wrapped up in a warm cocoon of blankets and head resting comfortably on her pillow.

It's the babbling on the baby monitor on the bedside table that does that.

The only thing that can draw Ingrid out of her slumber before her natural body clock does.

It's so strange that something can do that now, that just the barest hint of babbling on the monitor reaches Ingrid at her most relaxed moments, that just the barest hint of you being up and awake means Ingrid will be too.

A small smile appears on her face, blinking awake fully and now actually understanding what's going on in your bedroom.

You're definitely the one babbling, the one making all sorts of soft, content little noises like your lips smacking together and your little high pitched giggles.

But there's another presence in your room too.

Another voice.

"Shhh, little one," Mapi says, her voice slightly distorted over the monitor," We don't want to wake up your Mumma before her surprise is ready."

Your babbling, however, gets a bit louder and Ingrid hears Mapi laugh.

"Yes, look at how cute you are! Let's get this little hood flipped up and then we'll go and surprise your Mumma."

Ingrid smiles softly at the words, closing her eyes when she hears your door click shut. She snuggles into the blankets and gives the image of sleeping peacefully when the bedroom door opens.

"Alright," She hears Mapi whisper to you," I'm going to put you down and you're going to show off your skills and crawl to Mumma, alright?"

Ingrid knows Mapi's words aren't really for your own benefit, not with you still being a little baby, but still, it's nice to hear Mapi speaking to you like you can understand her.

"Ready? Let's go, teeny!"

A small weight is placed at the foot of the bed, Ingrid can feel it on her legs, and then the movement begins.

You're gotten quite strong at your crawling, picking up speeds that are kind of amazing to watch when Ingrid can remember when you used to not be able to move by yourself at all.

Ingrid doesn't let you get too far, maybe to around her hips before she's sitting up and pulling you into her arms.

You giggle at the shock of it, little feet kicking out happily when she litters your cheeks with kisses.

"This is new," Ingrid says, fingers brushing over the fuzzy brown onesie that you're wearing.

"She's Rudolph!" Mapi replies excitedly," I saw it in a shop window last night and thought she'd look so cute! The nose squeaks!"

Experimentally, Ingrid squeezes the little red nose on the hood of your new outfit and, true to Mapi's words, it squeaks.

"You're so sweet, Mapi."

Ingrid guides you into the crook of one of her arms before extending the other one out for Mapi to tuck herself into.

"Merry Christmas," She says, pressing a kiss first to your head and then to Mapi's lips," This was a wonderful surprise. My own little Rudolph."

"I tried to get Bagheera in her matching jumper but she wasn't having it. I'll get her though, at some point."

"I'm fine with just one little Rudolph today," Ingrid assures her," Don't get all scratched up trying to force it."

Mapi chuckles, leaning more fully into Ingrid's arms as you suckle insistently on Ingrid's collarbone and reach out to pull and yank on Mapi's fingers, seeming intently focused on the tattoos.

"Too early to properly get up?" Mapi probes with a grin and Ingrid rolls her eyes.

"The sun's not even up yet," Ingrid replies with her own smile," You're not still tired?"

"Not even a little bit."

"And you think y/n's not tired either?"

Mapi raises a brow as she looks pointedly at you. She wiggles her fingers and you immediately stop sucking on Ingrid's collar to dive forward and try to capture her fingers in your mouth.

You're not quite successful but you put up a good fight, trying to clamber across Ingrid' body to grab at them.

"I think our little teeny is more than happy to be awake."

"Hmm," Ingrid says in thought," She'll crash before midday."

"I'll put her down for her nap."

"And if she's getting up in the evening?"

"I'll do the night shift."

Ingrid drags you back across her body and lifts you up easily as she gets out of bed.

"I'll get this one's bottle ready then. You can sort through the presents?"

"And get Bagheera in that jumper."

"Bag-Bag!" You babble happily and Mapi coos.

"See, Ingrid? She wants to see Bagheera in the jumper too!"

Mapi peels out of the room before Ingrid can respond and she sighs, shaking her head and lifting you up so you're dangling in her grip, little hand reaching out to try and grab her nose.

"You're both just so bad as each other," She laughs," Bagheera's going to need so many treats today after what you and Mapi put her through."

[oceanicwriting]

quickly.

summary: you and mattheo are coworkers at your father's bank. you're both pretty competitive in the area, but you were both madly in love outside of that.

pairing(s): mattheo riddle x fem!reader

a/n: sorry if this is boring! i've been on my road trip and i haven't had much time to post. i'll keep doing my best, promise and kisses <3.

+18 smut, standing, public sex, praising, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ the museum where the fundraising dinner for the magic school in london will be held shines like never before. among all its event rooms, there is one that has large paintings, tables, and people talking animatedly. among those guests was you.

ㅤㅤㅤ ever since you finished school, you have worked at the bank that your father owns. you have always been part of the project coordination wing, leading selected teams to develop marketing strategies or loan plans for companies in the magic world.

ㅤㅤㅤ —young lady! how are you? —an adult man, accompanied by a girl who looks your age, calls out from behind you—. your father just told me about your latest project for mr. graham's company. i must admit, it's genius.

ㅤㅤㅤ you smile cordially, accepting the man's hand. you were trying to remember his name since you turned to see him, but in the whole work conversation, you couldn't do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —it's just a wonderful idea... oh, mr. riddle! —the man stops, looking over your shoulder—. i didn't know you had arrived. george told me you had been delayed by traffic a while ago.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo riddle, your worst enemy and precious boyfriend. although that last thing was a secret that both of you kept under the rug due to your father's strict policy of no relationships between workers. yes, you were sure that if you talked about this with your father, he wouldn't have a problem, but keeping it a secret was a little more provocative than you would like to admit.

ㅤㅤㅤ when you turn to look at him, taking in his figure in that tight black suit, you have to hide the soft smile that forms on your lips with a long sip of champagne. on the contrary, mattheo doesn't seem to have any reaction to your outfit.

ㅤㅤㅤ —mr. whitestock. —a victorious smile draws on his lips—. how is everything here?

ㅤㅤㅤ now his lack of reaction makes sense. mattheo was watching you from the shadows long before passing by you to get the man's attention, knowing from the first moment that you didn't remember his name.

ㅤㅤㅤ —here with this beautiful young lady talking about her new project to boost mr. graham's international investments. what a lucky man! —the man says, making you smile angelically—. did you participate in that project?

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo denies.

ㅤㅤㅤ —unfortunately the beautiful lady here didn't consider me. wasn't that right?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, trying to keep your composure under his gaze and ironic comment.

ㅤㅤㅤ —well, mr. riddle, i had better candidates in mind. —and we know that working together would end up giving us away instantly—. besides, weren't you busy with your five failed projects?

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo looks at you with a raised eyebrow, and although you can see the intention to respond, mr. whitestock steps forward saying—: oh! i see what's going on. a little rivalry gives more excitement to work, doesn't it?

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at your partner, who hides his smile under his hand.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's amazing to think that mattheo riddle, a man full of ambition and selfishness at work, had managed to make you fall in love effortlessly. it's likely that the greed of both of you had drawn blurred lines of desire that neither of you wanted to ignore. you liked him to be your biggest competition, but every time you were alone, he made sure to make you feel loved.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you don't have the slightest idea, mr. whitestock —you say, noticing how another investor calls the man from afar—. it seems that you are needed over there.

ㅤㅤㅤ the man turns, temporarily saying goodbye in case you sit together at dinner and walk away with his hand resting on the waist of his young companion. mattheo and you watch him walk away, side by side, feeling how his eyes fall on your tight figure in that beautiful white dress soon after.

ㅤㅤㅤ —don't look at me so much, mr. riddle, they'll think you like me.

ㅤㅤㅤ he lets out a soft laugh, taking another glass of champagne from the waitress who is passing in front of you with a full tray.

ㅤㅤㅤ —what can i do? you look beautiful in that dress —he whispers with a hoarse voice, clearing his throat and taking a sip—. really beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤ you both remain silent when one of your colleagues passes in front of you, greeting him effusively.

ㅤㅤㅤ —beautiful enough to take me to dinner at a nice restaurant? or beautiful enough to break it when you have the chance?

ㅤㅤㅤ you move sensually to his right side, hoping that will draw his attention to the cut of the dress that shows one of your fine legs.

���ㅤㅤ —you know i'd do both in one night, love.

ㅤㅤㅤ a satisfied smile forms on your lips when you hear his nervous voice, but it fades as soon as you notice your father walking in your direction with a young investor at his side.

ㅤㅤㅤ you glance at mattheo beside you, circling his back to say softly—: matt, i'm not wearing any underwear today. just so you know.

ㅤㅤㅤ meeting your father halfway, you begin to listen to the ideas of the investor who accompanies him. In the middle of that you turn to see mattheo, who has not stopped looking at you even though he is trapped with some coworkers and squeezes his glass so hard that you feared it would explode in his hand. that is what you wanted.

ㅤㅤㅤ the rest of the night progresses normally. mattheo and you had to sit three tables away, listening to speeches, business conversations, and private jokes. when the formal part was over, the grown men began to dance on the dance floor. your father had insisted that you accompany him, but when you manage to escape with a glass of wine in hand, you begin to wander through the rooms full of art.

ㅤㅤㅤ minutes later you stop in front of the large frame that has a series of lines in red, black and yellow.

ㅤㅤㅤ —why so alone? —it's his voice, echoing in the almost empty place. you know he must have a vain smile for finding you without company, how could you not know?

ㅤㅤㅤ —thinking —you say, listening to his quiet steps approach you—. don't you think this painting is grotesque?

ㅤㅤㅤ he comes up behind you, hugging you and leaving a trail of kisses on your bare shoulders. they are calm, sonorous, and warm as always.

ㅤㅤㅤ —grotesque? —he questions, his voice and the smell of cologne playing with the little thread of sanity you have before his warmth—. it looks like a bunch of meaningless lines.

ㅤㅤㅤ you let out a laugh that is accompanied by the soft sound of mattheo's kisses. you settle into his arms, turning to see his calm eyes, roaming over your face as if he’s seeing it for the first time. his hands move down to your ass to press you against him.

ㅤㅤㅤ —do you know there are cameras in here? —you ask, kissing his mischievous smile softly—. as much as you want to fuck me, you can’t.

ㅤㅤㅤ —the bathrooms are always available.

ㅤㅤㅤ —with all those middle-aged men going to the bathroom every two minutes? not really my kind of sex.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo moves in to capture your lips in a disgustingly lustful kiss. his tongue enters your mouth to play with yours instantly, while his hands squeeze your ass and rub you against his pelvis. your hands hug his neck, panting softly at the desperation of his lips. he was as perfect as ever, but you had to stop him before you couldn't take it anymore.

ㅤㅤㅤ —matt... —you say, gently hitting his shoulder—. mattheo, wait.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i promise i'll do it quickly. okay, love?

ㅤㅤㅤ you caress his face that doesn't waste seconds to disappear into your neck, tickling with the tips of his messy hair brushing your skin. you look at the camera of the place with a growing need that mattheo, with those wet kisses spreading on your neck, doesn't help to lower.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come with me —he says suddenly, taking your hand and leading you through the halls.

ㅤㅤㅤ you don't remember exactly the path he takes you, but mattheo seems to have complete knowledge of where to go. when you get to a place with less light, he stops you right against a thick marble pillar. he doesn't even let you ask and catches your lips in the middle of a deep growl.

ㅤㅤㅤ it doesn't take you long to get used to the movement of his mouth against yours, responding with the same intensity that envelops you like never before. you feel butterflies in your stomach that carry a series of tickles to the rest of your body. mattheo kisses your cheeks and licks your earlobe and neck so calmly that you can't help but laugh between your sighs.

ㅤㅤㅤ mattheo takes the glass from your hands, drinking the remaining drink in it and leaving it on the floor.

ㅤㅤㅤ —let me check if you were lying —he says, putting his hand in the cut of the dress, reaching your wet pussy—. what a nasty girl. at a charity meeting, love?

ㅤㅤㅤ you laugh, being forced to turn your back and spread your legs.

ㅤㅤㅤ —don’t pretend your cock hasn’t hurt all dinner, matt —you say, moaning afterward at the slow massage he’s started on your clit—. i can feel it.

ㅤㅤㅤ you know he has a smile on his face by the way he kisses your bare back softly. besides, mattheo is a man who enjoys it when you start vocalizing what he does to you, and that’s exactly what happens when he caresses that sensitive spot.

ㅤㅤㅤ —too bad i can’t enjoy this for longer. —you can hear his pants falling down his legs and, shortly after, the tip of his member threatening your entrance—. but we have to hurry if you don’t want them to know what a slutty you are.

ㅤㅤㅤ a cry that echoes between the high ceilings escapes your lips when mattheo buries himself completely inside you. his hand stimulating your clit has stopped, helping you keep your composure at his large size filling every inch of you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —ready?

ㅤㅤㅤ you nod. mattheo watches the waves of your hair bounce against the top of your shoulders and spreads kisses down your empty back before he begins to move.

ㅤㅤㅤ at first he’s not soft or tender as if he’s afraid you’re going to break into pieces because he thrusts hard the same moment he feels your walls tighten around him. he was eager to hear you, to make you shiver and touch your entire warm body. mattheo felt so hot to feel your deepest being that even he was surprised.

ㅤㅤㅤ his mouth takes care of biting and kissing your shoulders softly, enjoying how the echo makes your sounds and his attack them from all directions.

ㅤㅤㅤ —is this what you wanted, right? —he asks, stopping abruptly and bringing his hand to your clit—. is this what you wanted to happen when you came without underwear?

ㅤㅤㅤ his fingers massage your erect area in circles, pushing themselves inside you lazily, grunting and sighing against your ears. you try to regain your speech as best you can, because you needed to hear the hard crash of his pelvis against your buttocks, you need him to bite your shoulders as if he were dying to mark you and for your juices to splash on his cock.

ㅤㅤㅤ —matt...

ㅤㅤㅤ —yes, love? come on, you can talk.

ㅤㅤㅤ —just, please, move faster —you whimper, lowering your hand to his to increase the movement of his fingers pressing your clit—. please. i need you to give me hard.

ㅤㅤㅤ a laugh, mixed with a pleasurable sound, is drowned out when they find your lips to do what you ask.

ㅤㅤㅤ his thrusts have become so violent that he forces you to rest your hands on the pillar to keep from hitting your head against it. you gasp and moan with an intensity that's impossible to control because mattheo knew exactly how to stimulate your body until you were brought to ruin.

ㅤㅤㅤ —m-more, matt. a little...

ㅤㅤㅤ from the first moment you hooked up at an office party, he discovered that you needed him to talk to you to release your orgasm. you loved how his raspy voice, full of lust, praises the way only you know how to take it.

ㅤㅤㅤ —you're doing well —he says, lifting your dress a little more to see his cock disappear between your thighs and pelvis crash against your ass—. s-shit. such a nice view and so little time.

ㅤㅤㅤ your hips seek the sensation of your desperate orgasm in a movement against mattheo, coupling with his thrusts to deepen his entrance as much as you can. the muffled screams that leave your throat are lightened by the soft laughter that hides the boy's moans.

ㅤㅤㅤ —so tight and perfect looking for more.

ㅤㅤㅤ it's the way he talks to you, how his hand squeezes your hip to pull you against him while the other massages your clit. it's the mix that all that does with the aroma of his cologne that makes you stop breathing.

ㅤㅤㅤ —come on, love, just cum for me.

ㅤㅤㅤ the shock of his breath hitting your ear is enough to feel a tingle throughout your body, contracting your muscles and stifling a scream. your orgasm is so powerful that it cuts off your breathing and weakens your legs, forcing mattheo to hold you in his last thrusts that fill your insides with his semen. god, how you loved the heat of his semen taking you.

ㅤㅤㅤ —are you okay? —you nod, mattheo stops holding you to get out and fix his clothes while you lean on the large marble post—. come here.

ㅤㅤㅤ he hugs you again, capturing your lips and caressing your back while his tender kiss imprisons you against the wall.

ㅤㅤㅤ —if a camera caught us, they will talk to my father —you whisper.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i will take care of that.

ㅤㅤㅤ that makes you laugh, separating yourself to look into his brown eyes delirious from his orgasm seconds ago. he is so cute that you could die in his arms and you would be the happiest person on the planet. mattheo caresses your cheeks gently.

ㅤㅤㅤ —go back first —he says, taking two steps back. you pick up the glass from the floor and kiss his cheek—. i love you.

ㅤㅤㅤ you look at him, paralyzed by those words that had not been said until this very moment. his soft eyes with a hint of fear for having said it only make your heart beat much faster and a giant smile appear on your lips to hug him tightly.

ㅤㅤㅤ —i love you too, matt.

[simp-ly-writes]

The First Thing You Hear

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.4)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Assistant!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: quiet morning and lab-time fun, all ruined by the power of one... and Jayce is willing to do anything for everything to go back as things were... anything.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective!Jayce, Fluff and angst, suggestive themes, kissing, kinda transitional chapter for season 2 (black outfit anyone?), mentions of blood and death, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,810

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: I really should be studying but all I can think about is THIS. Love and appreciate you all! *biggest virtual hugs*

─────── · ·

─ · · When you slowly blinked, opening your eyes to the sunlight coming in from underneath the door, you felt a weight on your stomach and looked down to see a sleeping Jayce, back exposed using you as a pillow. His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you tightly as if worried you would disappear.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, feeling the silky smooth texture mixed with a few dead-ends, I need to book him a haircut, you told yourself humming gently as you debated how to remove yourself from him but as if sensing your thoughts, Jayce stirred in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent before placing more of his weight on you. At the start, it was a comforting weight as if an anxiety-blanket but it soon became unbearable.

You wheezed, "Jayce," you called out softly even though you were struggling to breathe, he did not move. "Jayce," you said a bit louder, watching as he shifted slightly, his head shaking in a "no." You scoffed, "Jayce," you warned, please don't tell me this is going to be every morning.

You watched as Jayce's golden eyes slowly opened and met your own- pleading with a small frown on his face, his hair un-styled and falling over his face. You picked up your hand, moving it back as he leaned into your touch. "morning, Jay," you said.

Jayce smiled, your heart beating rapidly in his chest in how soft he looked, as if about to cry tears of happiness that you were not some dream but physically there with him, laying in bed. "I love you," Jayce said, his voice deep and groggy as you clenched your bare thighs in reaction - hearing him chuckle.

"No good morning back?" you teased, removing your hands from his head to rub your eyes. Jayce picked himself up slightly, leaning in to place light delicate kissing from your collarbones up to your neck and just underneath your chin were he lingered.

"I want the first thing you hear ever day is my love for you, so that you may not question it," Jayce says gently before capturing your lips. You groan, pushing him away. "Morning breath, morning breath," you joke, trying to pick yourself up again but Jayce is having none of it.

"No, please. Let's just stay here for now, everyone else can wait. I have waited a decade for this, don't go now," Jayce says, kissing you once more, "please," another kiss. You fall back with a huff, looking up to Jayce. "Pleased now?" Jayce smiles a wide toothy grin, "very much so."

You watch as he rolls over, blankets exposing more skin for your eyes before Jayce is pulling you on top of his chest, chin on top of your head with a hum, "You are so beautiful." You blush, "you're pretty too," you joke, drawing random patterns on his skin before settling on a tattoo on his forearm you hadn't noticed before with his long-sleeves. You feel Jayce's chest rumble with a laugh, "thanks."

Your fingers dance across the ink before looking down at your blank arm with a contemplative look. "Why did you get this?" You ask, feeling as he shrugs, "Don't really remember but I just wanted a piece of something we all made." we all made... always so quick to be selfless.

You close your eyes with a sigh, wait... what are we? fuck, do I have a job? Yet the feeling of his thumb rubbing circles onto your hip, the soft blankets and warmth of his skin against yours had you forgetting your train of thought and falling asleep once again.

─────── · ·

─ · · You both were rushing around, bumping into one another in the bathroom. Jayce for the last half-hour had been trying to tempt you to join him in the shower but you too busy cursing him out once seeing all the marks running up your sore thighs. "Jayce fucking Talis," you swore watching as he poked his head out with a smirk.

"You were screaming my name quite pleasantly last night, whats the difference?" You shook your head, doing your makeup with the little you has in your purse before tucking in an over-sized button up. "You look so good in my clothes," Jayce murmured, a wet head placing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. "You're getting me all wet, Jay!"

"Oh am I now?" he raises a brow.

"I'll leave now if you don't stop," you threatened, looking at him through the slightly foggy mirror, trying to hide a smile. "You wouldn't dare," Jayce glared at you back, taking your words seriously, zipping up his pants and leaning on the counter. You raised your chin, "I mean, you said it yourself... I do have an officer wanting my-"

The sudden rush to your head as you were picked up and you swatted his back, "We are going to be even more late! The meeting started an hour ago we really have to go NOW!"

"You're officially unemployed now, remember?" Jayce said back, hips pinning you to the bed, your hands trapped between one of his larger ones. "But what about you?" you said, albeit a bit breathlessly.

"You got me caught up yesterday, or did you already forget?" Jayce tilts his head, kissing you in between words.

"You didn't fuck me that good, Jayce," you chuckle before seeing the look that casts over his features before capturing your bottom lip between his teeth and letting it fall. "No? then allow me to try again."

─────── · ·

─ · · You were not leaving unless you ran, and run you did after flinging back on your clothes and dashing right to the lab leaving an angry Jayce back at his apartment. You opened and closed the door before bracing your hands on your knees and intaking deep breaths before looking around the space and finding Viktor asleep at his desk. His cheeks appeared hollowed, his eyes sagging with bags as your heart cried, you hated how he had to get worse before getting better.

You brought a hand up, placing it at his back to feel his shallow breaths before you shook him away feeling him startle and sway. You grabbed his shoulder's gently, keeping the man in place, a frown coating your features, "Viktor? hey, hey, are you doing okay?"

Viktor looked through you with dead eyes. "I have been fine, just need to figure this out." You nodded, removing your touch before moving back to the blackboards. "I got fired," you said with your back turned feeling his wide stare, now fully awake. "He is an idiot, I apologize. Consider yourself hired." You scoffed before sharing a laugh.

"Really?" you turned around with a smile, knowing that this was what you were going to do all along. Viktor rolls his eye before he nods his head once- turning back to his desk and observing the growing plant at his desk with newfound intrigue... as if he could listen to it...

You watched out of the corner of your eye before he snapped his head over and you looked back with a whistle. Picking up a piece of chalk, you rewrote parts with new numbers you had written on your palm. Hmmm, maybe a 4 instead Oh! but what if we... you lost yourself in the maze your text swirling in circles as did your head.

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce had joined you both later that day after a meeting with the council, tensions appeared as high and tight as his shoulders. You stepped down from a stool, dusting your hands on your pants before waving to Jayce of extended his hand in a silent ask that you followed, sitting on his desk as he placed his head in your lap with a sigh, "All I want is for this to do good, to save people, to protect Piltover... I didn't want all these politics and-" Jayce sighs, "I sound ungrateful, I'm sorry."

"No, Jayce. Don't say that," you said to him, "It's a job that no good person like yourself wants and the kind of job only the worst people strive towards. I may not be able to hold the burden, but I can help ease it," you say, picking his head up as he kisses your palm in thanks, closing his eyes before you both turn once hearing Viktor's scoff.

"I thought you got fired. Now you are a therapist."

"Oh, Viktor," you laugh, shaking your head before shoving Jayce off you as he leans back in his chair, playing with a pencil between his fingers as he looks at your combined work with squinted eyes. You all were so close to finding the answer to all your issues... it would only take a matter of time...

─────── · ·

─ · · When you and Jayce stepped out of the lab and back onto the Piltover streets for lunch, you were shocked just as everyone else was on how excited everyone appeared while looking at you both together.

"See son, I told you so," a parent says to their child groans and rolls there eyes with a huff before smiling at you and looking down at your connected hands. Jayce raises his chin, not even trying to hide his smile as you bury your face into his arm. "Too many eyes," you mumble, cheeks warming in what appears a permanent blush.

Cameras flashed as you walked together, "Why couldn't I just stay back in the lab?" you question, "I'm sure Viktor is lonely."

"I'm sure he is, and is thankful for it. We did spend the afternoon annoying him" Jayce replies with a chuckle, moving you to his other side while walking further away from the street. "You know you can't just pick me up and move me around Jayce," you comment, still looking ahead, feeling his stare, "I just want you safe." The crowd aww's as you slap his arm. "You're doing this on purpose," you glare.

Jayce shrugs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, "I'm just giving the people what they want." And by that moment, a little girl had ran off and hugged each of your legs together before looking up at you both. "Are you alright?" Jayce asked, crouching down, extending his hand as you leaned down as well. The girl only looked at you, eyes wide and mouth agape in awe, "I always wanted to meet a princess!"

Your eyes are now equally wide as you laugh off your shock, "Umm, well, sweetie I'm really not-" She leaps into your arms, hugging you, Jayce looks at the image of you two together fondly and with a certain glint to his eyes, you narrow your own, no, Jayce. The man picks up his hands, showing you his palms before a father is rushing over, apologizing profusely to you both as he unlatches his daughter from your arms.

"I am terribly sorry, she has an overactive imagination and-and loves you two- and I love your both- together I mean and," the father shakes his head as you hold up your hand, "Its alright," you speak softly receiving an appreciative nod.

"Princess?" Jayce tests the name on his lips, looking down at you and you can't look at him in the eyes right now, catching the look of someone in the crowd who gives you a thumbs up, hextech help me.

─────── · ·

─ · · The following days leading up to Jayce's speech were filled with the trio loosing themselves in the laboratory like shadows of their past echoing in the present. You sat beside Jayce, feet swinging back and fourth off his desk as you jotted down findings in your table-charts and journals.

A record was playing in the background as Viktor shook his head gently side to side with the beat, mumbling the chorus as Jayce joined in as the other voice, you laughed, flinging your head back while watching them both share this moment; singing and dancing as you got up, Jayce picking up your hand and inviting you to twirl before pulling you into a kiss.

You pulled away laughing, placing your head on his chest as you stood there looking out to a sunset Piltover, "I have missed this," you say without expecting a response, just voicing out your thoughts as Jayce places a large palm between your shoulder blades, bringing you close before forcing Viktor to join the group hug with a sigh. "I have missed this," Jayce says, squeezing you all together as Viktor groans and gags before removing himself, a smile evident on his features as he casts you a wink.

You playfully fan yourself before exchanging an eye roll, Jayce grunts, "Are you stealing my girl from me Viktor?" he teases as Viktor tenses. "No. I wouldn't do that to you, but she is my new lab assistant," he says as you firmly nod, crossing your arms in a challenging stance as Jayce hums, "You were quick to find work, sweetheart."

You shake your head with a smile, "This was never about work," you repeat Jayce's word back to him watching as his eyes light up, "I love you," he says.

"If you two are going to be acting like this, I might have to fire you both," Viktor says, half mocking, half seriously. You and Jayce look at one another before looking back at Viktor, "we love you too, Viktor!"

Viktor pinches the bridge of his nose cursing you both out.

─────── · ·

─ · · Later that day, you all sat in front of the blackboard in your respective chairs, Jayce's arm around the back of yours as you all ate together, the conversation taken away from scientific's as you all catch up with one another.

"Jayce and I are... together now," you say. "I couldn't see that," Viktor firs back, fork pointing at the arm around your shoulder and the hand that twirls your hair in between his fingers. Your cheeks warm as you look away from them both and stare straight at the board.

Viktor leans forward into your vision, "I am happy for you both, truly." You smile as does Viktor before leaning back. You lean your head back on Jayce's arm, closing your eyes. "Don't fall asleep on me, will have to carry you back," Jayce says, your eyes open, head turning to look at your boyfriend. The term has your heart pounding to admit it to yourself.

"Like you would hate to do that, Jay," you retort with a snort. "You caught me there."

─ · · Jayce ended up carrying you to your bed, helping you out of your boots, putting down your hair as you leaned subconsciously into his touch, hands pulling to bring with warmth into your embrace as he chuckled and crawled in beside you before pulling over the covers.

You felt around with a frown before rolling over into his side and finding a smile. Jayce looked down at you resting on his chest, his heart aching with deep affection as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a sigh, "I love you," he whispered to himself before looking up at your ceiling. and I hope that its enough for what it to come...

─────── · ·

─ · · You stood behind the curtain, watching off to the side as Jayce presented his second Progress Day speech. You didn't want to be in the crowd for his speech this time, a little selfish you knew but you didn't do well with crowds, happy to recite his words as he spoke them to everyone for the first time, you? the thousandths time.

You look to Viktor standing by yourself as he grips your hand, eyes scared yet proud of Jayce just as you were. "Thank god its not us speaking," you joke as the crowd cheers. Viktor laughs, squeezing your hand, "You know, I think we would put them to sleep." Its your turn to laugh before a voice shushes you and you both stand tall. Eyes gleaming in silent humour.

─ · · But with progress came set backs as you all stumbled back, a load distant bang rumbled through the backstage, you looked catching a glimpse of blue, but maybe it was just the fireworks? You told yourself feeling unease. Viktor tensed, dropping your hand and taking a step forward, he looked through the darkness while Jayce was finishing up his speech.

Your hands were shaking, you knew something was not right but you could not put your hand on it. So lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize Jayce was back, he grabbed your shoulders, shaking them slightly, "sweetheart? come back to me, whats wrong?" he asked, looking around the dark space to Viktor who just shrugged.

You looked up, a wary smile, "I-It's nothing Jayce," you told both him and yourself before reaching up and placing his hand on your cheek. "I'm alright... let's go and-" a scream sounded and you could smell smoke but by the time you looked back, the gemstone you all were saving was gone, shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

─────── · ·

─ · · The next series of months that lead into years were from hell. Those beginning quiet mornings with Jayce were now all-nighters as you both pulled your hair out and fell asleep atop one another, too tired do anything else, minds racing with work and endless life-altering decisions.

─ · · You could feel how much pressure the council was putting on Jayce, how this missing gemstone in the wrong hands was only going to be the first card falling in a series of failed hands you would be forced to play. And just when you thought yourself to be out of politics, that Viktor was doing okay, that your relationship was going alright. It all came slamming into you.

─ · · You and Jayce were without sleep, you nearly in tears from stress as Jayce yelled out his frustrations to you but it felt like at you by how stressed he was. You gripped your head, knees being pulled up into your chin as you rocked yourself for comfort. Someone just made a threat on our lives, someone wants to-to kill me! was all you could think and Jayce was already loosing his mind long before you were at the news he did his best to hide from you... people knew how much you meant to the councillor, how easily he would crumble without you. How did this all happen so quickly? You asked the sky, blinking away tears... how did warm mornings and long days in the lab result to this? The sky said nothing in response, just staring blankly back in its blue hues, crying at the loss of innocence alongside you.

─ · · You watched Jayce in the forge, sweat dripping down your back even when you stood far away from the fire. You would think your partner to be highly attractive in the current moment if you were your younger more clueless self as he worked himself to the bone, making what he promised never to do before... weapons. You hated that your combined life's work was not working out, that Viktor's health was failing and that Hextech was to be used this way but what little choice did you all have? The gates were up, your time was limited and being peacekeepers didn't work in the past... you felt disgusted with yourself as did Jayce, the tattoo burning against his skin, the embers hotly kissing your cheeks- burning into your skin like freckles. past self, please forgive me... for I am not the person I want to be...

─────── · ·

─ · · One night when you sat alone in your dark apartment besides a singular lamp, tea in hand as your floor was covered in a carpet of blueprints, a sudden knocking at the door had you grabbing a knife from the kitchen as you shook before seeing a broken Jayce at your doorstep, not speaking a word. You opened the door, allowing him to fall into your arms- his hammer leaving a permanent mark on the tiles in your entry-way. You didn't ask what happened, you didn't want to know. You had visited Viktor earlier that day in the hospital, your heart couldn't take much more and as Jayce kissed you for the first time in months, emotions overcame you both with a need for comfort in one another, in a remembrance of a past time where the stresses were at least manageable. A time where it was easy to love one another.

Your hands shook as you exposed skin, you sobbed against his shoulder as he silently cried into your own. His hand gripped your hips, pleading as you bit your quivering lip, listening to his whispers near your ear as he repeated, "I love you, I'm sorry," endlessly as if to repent. And that night you left permeant marks on one another as others would fade over time.

─────── · ·

─ · · You and Jayce held one another in the morning, the light appearing cold as the breeze as you thought of an empty lab, a sense of deja vu washing over you both. You grasped his hand, closing your eyes again to keep in the moment, to keep the tears at bay, you were going to lose a friend today, slowly you would watch him fade away as you have been but this time... there was no hope.

Viktor would take his last breath, he would solve his last equation with you by his bedside, crack his last insult in your face and then... nothing. You felt sick, a hollow feeling in your stomach, your blood cold.

Today you would watch from the corners as Jayce spoke with the council in a desperate attempt for solution; something you both always used to be good at... cracking numbers, drawing diagrams, you could smile, cry, laugh, plead- with your past self yet they were never returning back to help you now.

You thought back to your first days working alongside Jayce, just how scared you were then as you were now. You remember meeting Jayce's mother, her cooking on your tongue and her sweet and welcoming words in your ears as she hugged you dearly, as if one of her own. You think of Jayce drawing on your skin, whispering into his ear during early council meetings, of the passion that burned in his eyes as he pulled you down the hall and the love in his eyes as you screamed and yelled at him.

You don't realize yourself to be silently crying as you think about the first night you shared together. His touch, body draping over and protecting your own while bruising your skin with his love before kissing over the marks. You felt as Jayce's chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, he too was struggling as he pressed his head to your shoulder.

"I love you..." I want the first thing you hear ever day is my love for you, so that you may not question it... you thought back to his past words, "...It'll all be over soon," Jayce whispered seemingly to himself as you nodded along. You hated every string attached to those words, you were not ready to say goodbye just yet to it all but it was what had to be done to save so many...

─────── · ·

─ · · You both slowly got dressed in separate corners of the room and walked side by side, un-touching on your way to the council room where Viktor stood waiting for you both. Guards nodded towards you all before opening the doors to the room already in shambles. Fingers were being pointed, hair pulled, wine spilled over the stone like blood dripping off the jagged edges.

You and Jayce looked at one another, foreheads pressing together in a lingering kiss of minds but just as you took a step back, watching as Jayce began to walk up the steps, the room stirring to silence. Jayce paused, hand extending and flexing in a silent ask, and how could you refuse after it all?

You took small strides before grasping his hand in the support he needed with his head hung low. You reached your hand out to grasp Viktor's as you all moved towards to the head of the table and took your seats. The words were spoken to yells and shouts. It was war, the screaming, the stares and then the peace as hand by hand rose and just as Jayce moved your connected hands up... the last thing you could hear was a scream.

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce woke up, his arm killing him as he quickly turned around the room, hearing vicious laughter echoing in the back of his mind. He was in hyper-drive, hands shaking as he faced the broken window at his back before feeling something roll down to touch his foot, half of a spray-painted broken smile mocked him on a piece of metal that he kicked aside with a shout before looking at the rest of the destruction and corpses before him.

Floodlights entered the space, enforcers yelled for support and to lock down the city as Jayce staggered seeing his old mentors, peers, Viktor... all dead but still no sight of you. Mel shook herself, shoving a scrap piece of metal off her body with a shout before standing with a wobble, she looked towards Jayce as the man looked to be loosing himself.

Jayce started to laugh, tears streaming down his face as he searched desperately for you, I was supposed to protect you, Jayce felt besides himself in sickness, no, no, no, you could not be dead- he wouldn't allow it, he refused.

"(NAME)!" Jayce shouted in a panic before feeling a hand on his arm, his head snapped over, eyes hopeful before disappointed that rocked Mel to her core. "Jayce," she said softly before Jayce was ripping her touch off of him and shouting your name again and again.

Mel cupped her hands to her chest, her heart aching for her friend and peer as he gripped at his hair, he started to smile, turning to face her with wide eyes, "she's not here," Jayce laughed having officially lost it, "She-she's not here," he laughed so hard, falling to his knees before crying and rocking himself. I need her, I need her, my girl, mine, where are you? Please, you are all I ask for, ever have, I never wanted any of this...

His head flicked back over to Viktor's lifeless self as he felt numb, just staring blankly as Mel knelt in front of him, tears streaming down her own cheeks as she didn't know what to do, how to help. "Jayce, he's gone, Viktor's gone... please, we have to get to safety." Jayce shakes his head, "No, she deserves to be here with us, she did nothing wrong! It should have been me!" Jayce shouts, the cold touch of morning air caressing his cheek.

"You can't save her if you are still here, Jayce. Please, we can go find her right afterwards, we just have to leave now," Mel's words appear to knock sense back into the man before her as he picks up Viktor's hand one last time, pressing it above his heart, his eyes widen feeling a light pulse and next thing he knows... he was running

─────── · ·

─ · · The first thing you could hear was a chainsaw that had your brain and heart kickstarting away. Your eyes opened, hissing from the swinging light above your head. A green goo slipped down your cheek and onto your pant legs. You could feel their heavy breath on your head as they yelled into your ear, "I can't wait to watch the life slip from your eyes so that he knows what he took from me, he feels my pain."

You shook in your seat, trying to escape your bindings but with no use. You cried, trying to shake the chair side to side yet it was welded to the floor. "Jayce!" you called out begging, their cackles carved out your heart as they mocked you, "Jayce! Jayce!" they wined and pleaded in your face, the moving blade catching a part of your shoe as you screamed.

"Save your voice for the show, little one. You are going to need it for when every topside member see's there beloved (first/name) (last/name) die right in front of them. Oh what a show it will be!"

─────── · ·

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff

─ · · A/N: please don't hate me! I gave fluff right... right?

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

[perreqult]

THE ‘COUGAR TYPE’ ✶ will smith

summary: will shoots his shot with an older woman (fork found in kitchen)

word count: 1.6k

contains: drinking, swearing, cougars (me core), think that’s it

notes: written by a ‘cougar in progress’ ™. also this is unedited so don’t expect this to be good at ALL.

“Who are you staring at?” Macklin asks, searching around to find who Will’s gaze landed on. He spots you, sipping a coors light, leaning up against a wall with your friends.

“Oh God.” He mumbles, knowing exactly what Wills thinking. “Are you seriously going to go try and flirt with her?” Macklin teases, looking over to Will and laughing, placing his hand on Will’s shoulder. Will’s face flushes and pushing Macklin’s arm right off of him.

“Fuck off.” Will tells him, rolling his eyes. “You do know she’s probably just gonna tell you ‘No.’ as soon as you walk over there, right?” Macklin says, teasing him and placing his arm on him once more.

“You..You don’t know that!” He says, probably louder than he should’ve because a few people around them turn their heads for a moment.

“Okay. Sure, go shoot your shot.” Macklin jokes to him, lifting his hands up and sighs. “It’s gonna be really funny when she immediately turns you down.” Will continues to roll his eyes with every word out of Macklin’s mouth.

“Wait! I need to go get Ekky, he’ll be laughing his ass off.” He runs off, bringing his other teammate back to where Will is standing, pondering thoughts.

“Macklin, what?” Eklund says through slurred words, as Macklin clearly didn’t tell him the reason to be brought over here. “Will wants to go hit on this girl. He seriously thinks he’s got a chance.” He tell him through giggles.

“Ok, number one; don’t point at people, that’s rude, number two; who cares?” Eklund sighs out, lecturing Macklin like he’s his mother.

“Okay, but even you know he doesn’t have a chance!” He says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Who are we even talking out?” Eklund asks, looking around.

Macklin points over to you and Eklund just laughs. “Oh yeah, Macklin’s right.” He tells Will, patting him on the back.

“What?” Will practically jumps up, breaking his silence, “How do you know?” He asks, worry covering his face. “I met her a while ago, her sister does social media stuff for the team.” He says, answering his question.

“She’s older than you—” Eklund says, trying to continue but being cut off. “Okay? That doesn’t matter.” Will says defensively. “Yeah, I don’t think she’s the cougar type is all.” He replies, backing up and throwing his hands up. Macklin is having a ball as he’s laughing in the most obnoxious way he could.

“Okay I don’t really care what you guys say. Fuck off.” He sighs and pouts and pushes his drink into Macklin’s chest and makes his way over to you.

The last thing you remember is your friends making a stupid joke about some stupid movie that came out recently, disassociating from the conversation completely. You snap back into reality when you hear what sounds like a 17 year olds voice.

“Uh, hey.” Are the words that draw your attention as you look over. It’s a kid. Looks—what, 18? not this shit again. “Hey.” You give a dry response and you can see the light in his eyes practically disappear.

“Trash ass party, huh?” Hey jokes nervously, trying to save his terrible introduction. “Yeah, why are you here? You’re not dressed like a frat boy but you have the look of one.” You joke to him and jester to his outfit which isn’t the typical frat attire.

“Yeah I uhh.. I get that a lot.” He says, continuing your joke. Just by the way he acts you can tell he doesn’t get told that a lot, but he’s clearly trying to save your awkward conversation.

“So what’re you? 18? Or do you just look like a child?” You ask. He gets flustered and looks down like he’s embarrassed before he says anything. “Oh, no.. um I’m actually 20.” You seriously don’t believe him.

“Are you joking?” You laugh out. “What? No. I really am.” He sputters out, embarrassed. “Uh I have my license I’m not lying.” He tells you, fishing into his pocket and pulling out his wallet and license.

Sure enough, “WILLIAM SMITH— 3/17/2005– EYES: BLUE— HGT- 6’-0–”You’d stopped reading at that point, not caring all too much about his address.

“Your name is Will Smith?” You ask, looking up at him. “Yeah. More common of a name than you’d think.” He jokes with a nervous chuckle. He does seem genuine but you can’t help but laugh.

“That must be inconvenient.” You tease, giggling through your words. He blushes as he lets out a flustered laugh.

“Now that you’ve interrogated me about my age, think I could learn yours?” He asks, trying to be smooth but seeming like anything but that with his beet red face.

You tell him your age, name, where your from, basically everything that is included in a conversation. You do happen to notice—what look to be— his friends staring over at you.

“Those your friends?” You ask, gesturing your hand towards a brunette laughing his ass off and someone familiar— maybe you met him through your sister or something— laughing along with him.

Will whips his head back and you can’t tell he wants to rip his hair out when he sees them. “Oh.. um, yeah. They’re my friends but they act sorta weird sometimes— I’m sorry.” He says, embarrassed.

“Why don’t you bring ‘em over here? That brown haired one seems wasted. I’m dying to meet him.” You say, looking over at them both belly laughing.

“Oh, oh ok.” He tells you before darting off to go bring them over to where you’re standing. You can see him grumble something into the brunettes ear looking pretty serious.

“So um.. this is Macklin” He nudges the brunette one. “And this is Will but we just call him Ekky.” You chuckle. “Yeah, I know him. At least i think I do— ‘looks pretty familiar.”

There’s an awkward setting of silence before Macklin soon breaks it.

“So are you like a cougar or what?” Macklin asks you drunkenly, slurring it all together. Will gets even more red—if that were even possible— and elbows Macklin in the stomach. “Ekky” just laughs, spurring out some of the drink he was sipping on.

“Oh wow, that was bold.” You joke to him, acting fake surprised. He quickly replies, “Well are you?” He asks before taking another sip of his drink, probably his second or third by the way he’s acting.

“From time to time.” You answer, looking over to Will as you say it. Macklin and Eklund look like they’re trying to resist the urge to burst out into laughter when they see Will’s nervous expression.

“Macklin how about you.. go sit down or something?” He tells him, clearly just wanting him out of there. He looks like he’s about to protest but walks away slowly, rolling his eyes.

“I, will go watch him.” Eklund slurs out, pointing to Macklin, who’s stumbling around the room, confused and dazed.

“Yeah, when I said they were weird I wasn’t really lying.” Will tells you, looking back at them, Macklin waving goodbye to you.

“I mean they’re definitely funny.” You giggle out, waving back at Macklin before Eklund smacks his hand down and drags him to a couch.

“You’re pretty funny too, kid.” You point out before finishing your drink, reaching your arm around to discard it on the table behind you.

He practically explodes hearing this but try’s to keep his composure, he fails terribly, a flustered grin spreading across his face. “Cute, too” You continue, smiling at him.

Will intended to say something but the words were stuck in his throat. When he finally musters up something it’s something stupid, “Oh.. um, thanks.” He wants to die. A hot girl that thinks he’s funny just said he’s cute and that was all he could say? He squints his eyes out of embarrassment.

“This party’s lame. I’m heading home.” You say plainly, yawning, patting down your pants to make sure you had your phone.

“Oh.” He says, disappointed, trying to hide it but yet again, failing miserably.

“It’d be a little less lame if I left with your number.” You say, waiting for him to process what you just said. Just like you expected his eyes almost pop out of the sockets, and he fumbles with his pocket before pulling out his phone.

“Uh here.” He tells you as you two exchange phones, saving eachother’s contacts. “Um.. thanks.” He sputters out. He thinks that was even worse than his response to when you called him cute.

“I’ll see you around sometime, kid. Don’t let my number go to waste.” You tell him, bidding him goodbye as you walk out with your friends. He just waves, too nervous to say anything back.

“That was an all star level performance, Smitty. Didn’t know you had that in ya.” Eklund says, leaning over his shoulder behind him. “He barely even said anything!” Macklin replies, wrapping his arm around Will’s shoulder, teasing him.

“Shut up.” He just says, tired and heart still beating out of his chest, removing Macklin’s arms from his shoulder and gently shoving Ekland off of him.

12:17 PM — next day

Do you think you’d let a kid take you out on a date?

↳ is he a cute guy with blue eyes and blond curls? if so sign me up

[covenofagatha]

Okay but hear me out…

Agatha and Reader meet at a BDSM club? Kink level as far as you’re comfortable writing (though it would me amazing if there was a strap-on and maybe a fucking machine but only if you’re comfortable with it)

Hope I did it justice!

There's something in here for everyone

What's your fantasy?

Word count: 4600

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, fingering, strap on, sex toys, degradation, praise, gagging, spanking, blindfolds, restraints, fucking machine, mommy kink (hope this is all)

This is a bad idea. 

That is the only thing going through your mind as you walk up to the doors of “The Velvet Hex.” 

Westview’s only BDSM club can be found in an unassuming part of town, in a relatively plain building. 

Definitely not what you were expecting. 

You aren’t even sure what you’re doing here, but your best friend Wanda had told you that you desperately needed to get laid and to go out and have some fun. 

But her idea of “fun” had come when she had plopped down in the chair of the library next to you and told you to take the BDSM test, gleefully holding up her phone with her results.   

So you had taken the test right there, turning more and more red as the questions went on, and when you finally finished, Wanda had looked over and let out a low whistle. 

“Damn, girl, you are kinky,” she had said as you compared yours to hers and you felt your cheeks burn even more. 

And then she had whispered, in the Westview University campus library, that her girlfriend’s roommate knew a woman who owned her own club like that, and they were having an exclusive invite-only night where anything was on the table. 

You had looked at her with questioning eyes, wondering where she was going with that, and Wanda had smacked your knee for being oblivious. 

“Nat’s roommate told us she could get us in if we wanted. We said no, but I’m sure Rio could get you an invite. You should go and explore,” she explained, a smirk plastered to her face while she wiggled her eyebrows at you. You weren’t surprised that Natasha and Wanda hadn’t wanted to get involved in that world, but you couldn’t ignore how the offer piqued your interest. 

You hummed casually. “Oh yeah?” 

And Wanda had grinned, seeing the wheels turning in your head. You were curious, that’s all. Obviously you weren’t looking for anything.

The next day, she gave you a letter on purple cardstock with a date, time, location, and password. 

At the moment, it seemed like a good idea. 

But standing here now, outside alone the club with the paper clutched in your hand, your heart is racing. 

You should turn back now and go back to your dorm. You could lie to Wanda, tell her that it was just okay, and no one would ever have to know. 

But a small part of your brain nags at you and tells you to go inside. You’re not sure why, but it feels like something from the club is calling to you, drawing you in. 

So you take a deep breath and knock on the door. 

A slot slides open and you can see a man’s brown eyes. 

“Password?” He asks. 

You clear your throat and hold up the cardstock. “Katoptronophilia.” You’re not even sure if you’ve sounded it out correctly, but the slot closes and the door swings open. 

You step inside hesitantly and take in your surroundings. 

The room is dimly lit with different colored LED lights glowing in different corners over doors that lead to different rooms. There’s a good amount of people in here, just mingling at the moment. There’s people dressed in leather outfits, or tight, short dresses, or nothing at all. 

Anything is on the table, you remember Wanda saying. You had done some research, just to see what you were getting yourself into, and the website had said that it was a tame environment, normally no sex allowed. But the exclusive, invite-only event tonight must be cause for an exception. 

You move a bit further into the main room, eyes darting all over the place. A woman yanks on a leash that’s connected to a younger man’s neck, forcing him down on all fours and making him crawl after her. A waitress bends over in a man’s lap to pick up a napkin she dropped, exposing her naked ass to him and his friends. Two women 69 on a couch while a third woman watches, slowly fingering herself to the sight. 

Feeling a little overwhelmed, you head to the bar. You’re really not sure what you’re doing here. 

And of course, the bartender ignores you. You try several times to get their attention, but people come up next to you, order something, and they get their drink immediately. 

You’re about to give up, maybe even just call it a night, when an older woman saunters in next to you. You don’t even look at her, rolling your eyes at how she will inevitably get a drink before you do. 

“Your usual?” The bartender asks her, and that makes you glance over. She’s a bit taller than you, long dark hair, bright blue eyes. She’s wearing a black blazer and pants, but under the blazer is a see-through bra. 

Your mouth runs dry. This is the first person you’ve seen here tonight that you actually find attractive. 

“Yes, please,” the woman next to you says, and then she turns her head to look at you and it almost stops your heart. “And what do you want?” 

You’ve been ignored so many times you’ve almost forgotten. “Oh, um, a Dirty Shirley, please.” The woman nods at the bartender, who starts working. “Thanks,” you say. “Do you come here often?”

The moment you say it, you cringe. Is it weird to ask someone if they’re a regular at a BDSM club? But the woman just laughs and shakes her head. 

“I’m the owner, darling,” she says and your mouth drops open. “Agatha Harkness.” 

“Oh,” you reply, completely dumbfounded. You introduce yourself and she reaches out her hand. You take it, feeling a spark at the contact. 

“So,” she drawls, eyes raking over your body, taking in your short dress and the amount of skin on display appreciatively. Your body burns under the intensity. “What brings you here for the first time?”

You frown. “How did you know it was my first time?” You don’t know why you’re even asking, it’s got to be obvious based on your tense composure and general awkwardness at being in this environment.

But she just smirks. “I would’ve remembered seeing you around here.” Surely the owner of this club is not flirting with you. “So?” 

Your brows furrow. “So?” 

“What brings you here?” She reminds you of her earlier question and you inwardly smack yourself. 

What exactly should you say? Your best friend thinks you should get laid and that you’re kinky? “Just wanted to try something new,” is what you settle on. “Get out of my comfort zone.”

Her grin widens and you see a slight resemblance to a shark about to get its prey. “And now that you’re here, how do you feel? Are you good with sitting here, or–” She leans in closer until you can feel her warm breath on your lips. You shudder at the proximity. “–do you want more?” 

“What are you suggesting?” You whisper back, a playful lilt in your voice, and you see her eyes light up before dropping to your lips. You close the gap before you can think too hard about it, brushing your mouth against hers. Your boldness surprises both of you and she chuckles darkly. 

“Whatever you want. Surely you have some things you want to explore, or else you wouldn’t be here,” she says, thumb coming up to tug at your bottom lip. You flick your tongue out against it and her eyebrow raises, urging you on. 

You shrug noncommittally, suddenly feeling much more confident. “Just wanted to spice things up a bit. See if there was any trouble I could get in tonight.” 

Agatha rests her head on her hand, dark eyes drinking you in. “Do you really want trouble though? Or do you want to be a good girl?” A tiny gasp slips out at the praise. 

“I can be whatever you want me to be,” you answer honestly and she draws you back in for a real kiss this time, all tongue and teeth and lips, and you can taste a hint of cinnamon in her mouth. She devours you like she can’t get enough until you have to stop to breathe. 

Agatha steps back and tugs you away by the hand, leaving the drinks the bartender had just put down in front of you. 

Figures that when you finally get your drink, you don’t even get to have it. 

But you can’t complain, because Agatha is weaving you through the crowd of people on the main floor, giving you the grand tour of the place. You see groups experimenting with ropes and someone teaching how to tie safe knots, you see spanking and flogging, the list goes on. 

Your head is spinning. 

Agatha stops outside a door in the back and looks back at you. “You don’t have to do anything that you won’t want to do, okay? You can say no at any point.” 

You gulp at the serious tone in her voice and nod. She pushes the door open and turns on the lights so you can see. 

Stepping into the room, your breath catches. Three out of four walls, including the one that the door is on, is covered from ceiling to floor in mirrors. The fourth wall, the one to the right of the door, is glass, looking into an adjoining room with couches facing you. 

In the middle of the room, there’s something akin to a hospital cot, although more comfortable-looking, a machine of sorts with a dildo attached to it, and then a table in the corner with more sex toys than you've ever seen in your entire life combined. There’s a chest under it and you can only imagine what’s in there.

“Jesus,” you rasp, taking it all in. You know you should be terrified, but with Agatha standing next to you just carefully watching, you feel eerily calm. “Do you – uh, what do you want me to do?” 

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and cups your chin. “What do you want, sweetheart? I can give you anything.” 

Your mind goes a hundred miles a minute to try and figure out what you want, eyes darting back and forth between all the things in the room. “What are my options?” 

“Well,” she says slowly. “The second I hit this button –” She motions to a circle on the wall. “The light above the door to the other room will turn green and unlock and people can come in. I can hit it or not, completely up to you. Or it could just be the two of us in here, and I could make you feel so good, baby. Fingers, mouth, strap-ons, the machine, any toy you’d like. Whatever you want to explore or try, we could do it.” 

Her clinical words have you dripping. Hearing her say all the things she could do to you only makes you want all of it more. 

One thing gives you pause though. “People…would watch?” You say, trying out the words. You’ve never thought about having an audience for sex before. 

Agatha’s eyes darken. “A pretty young thing like you? Honey, people would do more than just watch.” 

You let out a small gasp. You know you should feel dirty, but the way she says it, like people would be so turned on watching you and Agatha that they’d have to do something about it, makes you feel like you’re floating. 

“But the door can stay locked,” she reassures, taking your silence as a bad thing. Little does she know, heat is coursing through you at the thought. 

“No,” you peep. “It’s okay.” 

Before doing anything, she grasps onto your cheeks and pulls you in for a long kiss. You swoon, knees almost buckling when her tongue slides into your mouth, and she moans at your taste. 

You didn’t know having this affect on an older woman would be this addicting. 

“Fuck, baby,” she groans, tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth and making you whimper. “I think you’re the most delicious thing we’ve ever had in here.” 

“Agatha,” you pant and you don’t miss her sharp inhale at the way you say her name. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“I want you,” you tell her, kissing her earnestly again, and you did not imagine this was how your night was going to go in your wildest dreams. 

She finally breaks the kiss for air, resting her forehead against yours. “Get on the bed,” she orders, and you see a hardened glint in her eye, like something has shifted inside her. 

There’s no way to ignore how much that turns you on. A small noise escapes from your lips and you scramble to obey, sitting upright on the cot. 

She starts to make her way over to you slowly, but you stop her. “Can you hit the button?” You ask, voice small and timid, but sure of yourself. 

You see desire flit over her face as she smirks knowingly. The moment her hand presses it, you let out a quiet groan and clench around nothing. 

There’s a clicking sound and the door to the other room opens. Five people file in and take a seat on the couches and your breathing becomes heavy. There’s a slight murmur from the other side of the glass, but it’s all incoherent. 

But by the way they’re all looking at you, you don’t have to try that hard to figure out what they’re talking about.

“First things first,” Agatha says, now walking over to you. She’s whispering so your audience can’t hear. “Do you know what a safeword is?” 

You nod. 

“What do you want yours to be?” 

Your heartbeat picks up. “Will I need one?” 

Agatha shrugs. “Better to be safe than sorry. I promise I’m not going to go hard on you. At least not for your first time.” She winks and you feel a visceral ache inside of you. 

“Purple,” you say after thinking about it for a minute. She smirks at your choice and runs a hand through her hair. 

She looks you up and down again, just to make sure there’s no sign of hesitation. “Do you want to take your dress off?” She asks and you feel a pang of longing inside you for her. 

You stand up, nodding, and turn around so she can help you with the zipper. You can hear her chuckle from behind you and you watch in the mirror on the wall as her eyes drop lower as she unzips you. 

She peels the dress down your body and you step out of it, the entire thing feeling a bit surreal. Watching the scene through your reflection makes you feel like an outsider, like it’s not actually you in the mirror. 

Same hair, same face, same body, same lacy lingerie you put on earlier, but not the same person.

But when you watch Agatha plant kisses on the person’s neck and you feel them, you’re reminded that it is you. 

Your head drops back as her teeth scrape against your taunt veins and she sucks harder, pulling more sounds from your mouth. 

It’s a sight to see, the marks on your neck, the darkness of Agatha’s eyes, the way it looks like when her teeth sink into your skin.

Your breathing is ragged now and you can feel your slick on your inner thighs. 

“Please,” you beg, although you’re not quite sure what you’re asking for. Just more. 

Her grin in the mirror shows you that she understands completely. “Get on the bed.” This time, her voice is sharp, all traces of the softness from earlier gone. 

The scene has started. 

You clamber onto the cot, hoping it looks more sexy than you feel, and lay down on your back. Agatha comes to the side of you and pries open your legs, baring your covered, dripping pussy to the audience. You notice that more people have come in, and they’re hanging onto every movement. 

“God, you’re soaked,” she remarks, hand roughly cupping you and your hips buck. “Really getting off on this, huh? What a slut.” Her tone is scathing, but her eyes are watching your face carefully, just to make sure she’s not crossing a line. 

She’s not. 

It only makes you wetter and she can feel it. She chuckles condescendingly and you squirm. 

“You want me to touch you?” She asks and you nod your head so hard that it hurts. “Want me to show all these people what a good whore you are for me?” 

“Yes, please,” you gasp out, trying to ride her hand to feel just a little more. The hard pressure against your clit already has you feeling the tension building up in your stomach. 

She smirks and slides your underwear down your legs and holds them to her nose, breathing in your scent. 

“How would you feel about using these as a gag?” She questions conversationally, like she just asked you about the weather instead of something that sears your stomach and turns your world upside down. 

“Yes,” you breathe, desire raw in your voice. You feel like you’re drunk off her and she’s barely done anything to you. 

She grins and nods approvingly. “If you need to stop at any time and you can’t speak, tap me twice. Got it?” 

“Yes,” you say again and open your mouth wide so she can ball up your underwear and shove them inside. You moan at the musky flavor and you had no idea it would be so hot to taste yourself like this. 

Her fingers clasp your throat and you look at her with wide eyes, chest heaving with anticipation of what she’s going to do next. She trails her hand down and pinches your nipples through your bra. You stutter out a curse as she bends down and nips at your skin, tearing the fabric off without removing her mouth. 

And then her tongue swirls at your nipple and you keen, back arching off the bed. You can see the dazed looks on all the voyeurs’ faces, how they shift their weight watching, and it makes you want to show off more so they know just how good Agatha is making you feel. 

You garble around your panties incoherently, fingers twitching against the bed to stop yourself from showing her exactly what you need. 

She chuckles against your skin. “What do you want, baby? What do you need from Mommy?” 

At the pet name for herself, you let out an embarrassing whimper and a flush spreads throughout your body. 

“I thought you’d like that one,” she says smugly and before you can react, she sucks hard on your nipple and shoves two fingers into your waiting and wet cunt. A noise rips its way out of your throat and you throw your head back, hips frantically meeting every thrust. 

She lazily fucks you like she’s barely even trying to make you feel good, but it’s enough for you to get closer to the edge. 

You can’t do anything except take it, matching her thrusts, and your sounds get louder and louder, her fingers twisting and hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, and you’re about to cum –

– and she yanks her fingers out of you, leaving your hips faltering against nothing. 

She sucks them into her mouth, eyes closing at the taste. “Sorry, baby. But you’re not allowed to cum yet.” She slaps your cunt with her open hand and laughs at the reverberating sound of your wetness.

You whine pathetically around the as she walks around to the table and picks up a dildo and harness. 

“Do you want me to fuck you with this?” She asks, showing it to you and then to the audience. You glance at them to find several bobbing their heads with even more enthusiasm than you have. “Sweetheart?” She says to get your attention. 

You jolt out of the stupor you were in watching them watch you with bated breath and nod breathlessly, babbling senselessly again around the gag.

She smirks and puts the harness on over her clothes. You’re not sure why, but being completely naked while she is still fully clothed only makes it feel dirtier, hotter.  

Agatha attaches the dildo, pours some lube onto her hand and strokes it, and then grabs two silk cloths back over to you. She fishes the underwear out of your mouth and trails of saliva connect it back to your mouth. 

“Get up,” she says roughly and you scramble out of the bed immediately. She turns the cot like it’s nothing, angling it so it’s parallel to the glass instead of perpendicular. 

So the audience will be able to see everything with Agatha fucking you with her strap. The realization makes you squeeze your thighs together, feeling the waterfall between them. 

She beckons you back over and each step you take puts pressure on your aching clit. It’s agonizing and yet, the most alive you’ve ever felt. 

You get back on the bed and she maneuvers you into a position where you’re on your knees near the edge, resting your ass on your heels. You watch yourself in the mirror as she takes both your arms and ties them behind your back with one of the silk cloths. And then she puts the other one around your eyes, so you can’t see anything. 

The change in your body is almost instantaneous. Goosebumps spread all down your skin, you can hear the rustling of Agatha’s clothes behind you, you can feel just how wet you are, you can even smell yourself; every sense has become so much more heightened. 

Her hand gently presses on your back and guides you down, positioning your face against the bed so your ass is up in the air with your hands behind your back. She rubs your cunt, smearing your wetness everywhere. 

“You like being watched don’t you?” She taunts, and while yes, you apparently do, you think it’s more because of her. “Dripping all over my club like a slut, just needing to be fucked.” 

You whimper and sway your hips because it’s all that you can do. And then there’s nothing. She removes her hand and you strain your ears to see if you can hear anything. 

And then without warning, there’s a loud smack on your ass and your body jolts forward, a surprised grunt coming out of your mouth. She soothes the pain with her hand and then the tip of her strap is sliding against your folds and you whine. She presses it against your clit which makes you shudder.

“Beg for it,” Agatha demands and you don’t hesitate. 

“Mommy, please, please I need it so bad, please fuck me,” you chant and are rewarded when she slowly enters you. 

Your mouth falls open but no sounds come out as she begins to thrust, gripping your hips so tightly you know you’ll have bruises. 

You want them.

“God, look at my baby girl taking my cock so well for me,” she coos but you can hear the exertion in her voice as she starts to pound harder. “Such a good slut, such a good pet.” You whine involuntarily and you can practically hear her smirking. You wish to god more than anything that she would take the blindfold off you so you could look in the mirror and see what you looked like. 

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak, after already being denied earlier, and you’re about to cum when she pulls out. 

“No,” you sob, convulsing uncontrollably, the feelings of your orgasm tamping down. 

She spanks you again. “What did I say earlier? You’re not allowed to cum yet. And stop pouting before I make you.” With another swat to your ass, she pushes back inside of you and sets the same bruising pace as before. 

It takes you even less time for your lower stomach to tighten, and she pulls out again right as you’re on the precipice. 

“Please, please, Mommy, let me cum,” you cry, your entire body shaking. 

She laughs cynically and starts fucking you again. You’re fully unable to move, just being rocked back and forth with her thrusts, nothing more than a glorified toy for her to use. 

And she does use you. She brings you to the edge and then stops at least five more times, and you’ve completely lost the ability to think. Words spill out of your mouth like you’re drunk on Agatha, which you think you might be. 

You’ve never felt this thoroughly ruined before. 

But this time, when she pulls out, she doesn’t push back in. You feel her hands untying the restraint on your wrist and then on your hips, flipping your pliable body over so you’re on your back. She bends your legs up on the edge and rips the blindfold off and the light, even though dim, hurts your eyes. 

“How are you doing?” She murmurs, scanning your blissed out face for any sense of discomfort. 

You babble something along the lines of “I’m good” or at least you try to. You’re not actually sure what she hears. 

But she smiles genuinely nonetheless and leans down to peck your forehead. “You’ve done so well for me, pet. I think it’s time for a reward.” 

“I get to cum?” You ask weakly and she chuckles. 

“Oh yes, baby. You’ll get to cum as many times as you want.” Your heart leaps at the promise and she drags over the machine with the dildo. Your breathing quickens and she angles it up so it’s positioned right at your stretched-out cunt. 

Before you can even breathe, she smiles wickedly and turns it on. Your head falls back and your back arches up violently when it begins fucking into you. The pace never falters and you cum almost instantly. 

Agatha leaves your side but comes back seconds later, holding a vibrator. You moan pornographically loud when she turns it on and positions it against your clit. 

You cum again shortly after. 

The machine keeps thrusting inside you, faster than you’ve ever been fucked, and the direct stimulation against the most sensitive part of your body has you practically sobbing at the pleasure. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming again, and then another one weakly rolls over your body. 

But it’s too much now, all the edging and now the overstimulation is hurting so you start to squirm away from it. 

She instantly catches on and drops the vibrator before rushing to turn off the machine. 

You pant heavily on the bed, completely spent, and she lets you calm down, gently stroking your hair. 

Even though you know you have an entire audience, all you can see is her. 

“How was that?” She asks. “Too much?” 

You shake your head, feeling the slight sheen of sweat everywhere and all you can think about is needing to shake a shower. 

And when you can see Agatha again. 

“No, it was perfect,” you say truthfully, your voice hoarse. She smiles and kisses your lips. 

“We’re open Thursdays through Sundays,” she says and you laugh. “Come back anytime, baby. Although, keep coming back and putting on a performance like that, I might have to keep you all for myself.” 

Nothing has ever sounded so good. 

[jupiter-letters]

Dating Number 4/ Klaus Hargreeves would include☂️👻:

Fem! or GN! Reader TW: Brief mentions of addiction

A/N: I started Umbrella Academy a week ago and I’m obsessed, I’m almost done with season 3 and I can’t wait for season 4. I’d managed to fall in love with Robert Sheehan all over again and all that love has to go somewhere so here it is.

Waking up to little peppered kisses on your back and up your torso. If you don’t open your eyes he’ll just start blowing raspberries into your neck and on your face. Once he hears you laughing he’ll stop and flip you over. He likes being the first thing you see when you wake up. Some days are a little more peaceful and less silly, you wake to see him still asleep. A mess of curls and smudged glitter eyeshadow is the first thing you see. He’s at such peace and the most still you’ll ever see him. 

Putting makeup on each other, whether it’s going out or just playing around with new looks it doesn’t matter. Being able to experiment with new colors and combinations with each other is so much fun. On date nights you’ll pick outfits for each other, sometimes even just wearing each other’s clothes. Doing things like this with him leads to doing most things together. 

Why have him do things when you can do it for him? Or even with him? He loves having you wash his hair. Showers, baths? Of course we have to both be in there at the same time! Klaus is so touch starved any reason to spend time together he’ll take it,an added bonus is your company keeps the spirits away. 

You’re always in close proximity to each other, so your skin is always touching. Klaus just can’t get enough, physical touch becomes his middle name. He’s a natural affectionate person but just having you near is very grounding for him. 

He’ll draw on you with little glitter pens he carries in his pocket, he likes to call you his “canvas and his muse.” Even without the pens he’ll trace random shapes and words onto your arm or your back when you both lie in bed. Klaus also likes to play with your fingers when he’s bored.

Kissing!! He’s such a fiend for kissing my god, after that first kiss he’s finished. He always says he wants just one but it ends up escalating to a full on make out sesh. Doesn’t matter if you’re public or not you look too good it’d be a crime not to kiss you. Klaus doesn’t really give a damn about public embarrassment, if you wanted him to he’d run through central park naked, he would.

 Once he knows you’re ok with all the random bursts of affection he really piles it on. Neck kisses, shoulder kisses, nose kisses, not one day goes by where he doesn’t kiss you. He kisses like he wants to devour you, if he wasn’t able to kiss you that’d be hell on Earth. If you’re a fan of random kisses at the most inappropriate times he’s a professional. You’re driving, he’s gonna make out with you. Out shopping, kissing! Right now! Doctor’s appointment? Kisses under your jaw in the waiting room, he can’t help it, he's bored.

Helping him get clean, you and Ben have been pretty good influences in his life. Trying to keep him on the straight and narrow for the sake of his health. He wants to be present for you, he wants to be able to remember the things you do together. You help him find fun things to do without getting drugs involved. Taking your time and being patient with him means the world to him. He loves his siblings but they aren’t the best at helping him with it. They do try a little harder when you come around seeing how serious you are about helping him. You stay awake with him when his nightmares get too bad or when the withdrawal is really wearing him down. If it’s the ghosts that are bothering him you just tell them to piss off.(he really appreciates that)

Klaus begins to teach himself new skills to help you out around the house, cooking, cleaning you name it. He doesn’t do it very well but you appreciate the effort anyway. Chores become another activity for you both to do. He’ll even indulge in some of your hobbies just for the fun of it. 

Tattoos! He gets something on his wrist that reminds him of you, he can’t wait to show you too. If you get one related to him, god forbid a little number 4 on you he’ll cry. He does eventually tell you about the rest of his journey in Vietnam and Dave. Klaus wants to be sure you know he won’t compare you to him, He’ll always love Dave but he doesn’t love you any less. He’ll get really shy if you kiss his hand tattoos, there aren’t a lot of ways to fluster him so that’s a good one. 

Being surrounded by death and destruction most of his life really makes him appreciate what you have. The way you indulge in his antics and impulses makes Klaus feel so seen. You don’t feel real to him sometimes; late at night he’ll just lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beating. 

When some crazy new developments or drama happens in his family you’re first to know. Luther tells him something very personal and secret and 15 mins later he’s calling you on the mansion’s phone. 

Luther: “This stays between us Klaus I mean it…” Klaus: “Of course Lulu I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone you’re dirty little secret” A few moments later… Klaus: “Babe you’ll never believe what Luther just told me!”

He’ll always be looking at you, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing you have his full attention. Klaus will just be gazing at you lovingly while five is trying to talk to him, eventually he’ll just ignore him and go to talk to you. You're his favorite person to talk to; he never gets bored with you.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.

[knavesflames]

𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝑒𝓍 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑜

hello friends, I have arrived. As per the poll, shower sex was first. I had trouble figuring out how to do this but settled on this. I hope you enjoy! (it’s supposed to snow on monday, god save me) (i always end my fics with humour why)

Word count: 2.1k

Contents: shower, tired arlecchino, fingering, it’s soft they love each other fr

nsft utc!

Arlecchino’s favourite thing to do after a long day of dealing with incompetent Fatui grunts is come home and see you. You greet her the same way each time, greeting her with a soft hum, waiting for her to appear in your vision. She appreciates that you give her space to at least take her blazer off. She does it hastily, the garment often being left on the floor by the doormat to be picked up by her on the way to bed later that night. You always seem to be cooking when she comes home, something you have learned to time perfectly— you know she gets hungry when she comes home, and you know she’ll only forget to eat. Each time she moves to the kitchen to wrap her arms around you, a soft sigh leaves her lips, her own subtle way of smelling what she can only describe as pure domesticity.

Arlecchino’s job requires her to be many things. Ruthless, unfeeling, violent, even. When her hands graze your waist, you feel none of that. The hands belong to a woman full of love, even if she cannot express it. You do things for her that no other person would. When you share a meal, for example, you leave any spices out of it (to her satisfaction, much to your own dismay), until the end, after you’ve plated whatever food it is and placed it on the table. It takes more time, but the small flicker of gratitude in her eyes when she sees the colour difference, or smells the difference of the two dishes, warms your heart.

Your eyes inspect her as she eats. Expressionless as she is, she isn’t very good at hiding her feelings. Not with you, anyway. “What’s the matter?” Your quiet voice comes out as a sort of hum as you glance up at her. You watch her hand slows, the metal of the fork reflecting the ceiling light.

“I am tired. Clearly, nobody in this organisation can do their jobs. I do not understand how we are to revive the—“ She cuts herself off before she says anything else. You know well enough that she doesn’t talk about work at home. You do not ask her to. You watch as her hand comes up to release her hair from her signature ponytail, a smile making its way to your face when her snowy strands cascade down her shoulders, disappearing behind her back. When her hair is down, she looks almost soft. Kind. You know, deep down, buried under the facade of strictness (that you beg her to stop applying to herself— she never listens), she is a woman full of love. You know that much because even during nights where her nails are biting into the skin of your thighs, or your hips, or even on occasion, your neck as she draws sound after sound out of you, the other hand is always caressing some part of you, her eyes always full of tenderness.

You remember one of the first times you had sex with her— it was the first time you had attended one of those stupid Fatui balls with her. You had let her pick out the outfit herself, and she enjoyed herself thoroughly. You had barely gotten into your apartment before she had picked you up and laid you softly on the bed sheets, grumbling about how you never made your bed. You were still figuring each other out— what worked, and what didn’t. Midway through, when you weren’t thinking, you whispered. “Degrade me.” Your eyes moved to look into her own, only to be met with an immediate frown. “I will not. How could I ever say such things about you?” You tried to explain, perhaps wondering if she was unaware of what it truly was. She did know, she couldn’t fathom saying a bad word to you, even in such a situation. You learned then how soft she truly was.

“A shower would help,” you muse through a mouthful of the food. “Warm water is good for tense muscles. You’re tense, you can barely keep your shoulders relaxed.” Her eyes move towards the food in front of her. For some reason, she isn’t too hungry. Work has stressed her incredibly, to the point her sentences are short and curt. Her face is apologetic after, you know she means well. You allow it. “I can wash your hair, I know you like that.” After deliberation, she lets out a small hum, a yes.

Once your stomachs are full, you move to place them in the sink, vowing to yourself that you’ll clean them later (you’ll forget). Taking her by her blackened hand, you gently, but insistently drag her towards the bathroom. Her footsteps are heavy on the floor as she reluctantly follows along. Something has obviously happened at work, you think, because she is just so stressed. You plan to make sure the water at least relaxes her muscles.

Once the water is warm enough and both of you have undressed in quiet silence (she has her showers so hot you can’t touch the water. You don’t understand how she can withstand such heat), you guide her into the shower, your touch as gentle as it’s always been. You listen to the barely audible sigh that escapes her when she feels the water touch her skin. “Good?” You murmur softly, smiling when you hear her hum in appreciation, her shoulders slowly slumping. You know Arlecchino well, it seems. Her hand comes up to cup your cheek, the feeling is different than it usually is— the water is warm, her hand is somehow even warmer. In turn, your hand does the same, cupping her cheek with such softness it seems you’re barely touching her.

“I haven’t seen you like this in so long,” her voice is as smooth as it usually is, the same velvety tone despite the exhaustion. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are. Almost.” A chuckle leaves your throat at the wry smile that appears on her face. “You are stunning, but you must take better care of yourself, Peruere.” Your gentle chiding causes a huff to escape from her, a dismissal, you know that much. You open your mouth to chide her once more, but her lips swallow your words before you can even form a syllable. It’s a soft kiss, softer than the usual kisses she gives you. When you part, you can’t help but gasp and choke slightly at the water dripping onto your face, and into your mouth.

“Did you just swallow some?” She asks, a small chuckle rising in her throat. A hand comes up to gently shove her before you giggle, a sound that also is quickly drowned out by her lips. Her kiss is different this time, with more fervour and need in it. You let both of your hands wander until the meet and rest on the nape of her neck, fingers gently scratching at the wet hair strands. Arlecchino’s own hands gently guide you towards the wall, giving you respite against the relentless water stream. The air is thick with heat and steam, the mirrors fogged, but it seems neither of you are paying any attention to it. Her hands wander, tracing every part of your body she can reach. When you break for air, her lips take purchase on the skin of your neck, kissing and sucking gently marks onto it, marks you know will stay for a few days. You like it.

“You’re always so good to me,” she mumbles, nails slightly dragging against your skin. It feels good in a way you can’t explain. “Let me take care of you, hm?” You can’t see her face, but you can picture it, and the thought alone has you nodding breathlessly. Prying your legs gently apart, she lets out a breath against your neck, her voice changing to one that always has you melting.

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it? You must be so desperate.” It’s a question that doesn’t need answering. You’re very well aware that you’ve spent nights trying— and failing, to recreate what she does to you. She’s aware because despite the water that wets your skin, you’re the wettest you’ve ever been when her middle finger glides across your folds, eliciting a small gasp from you. She hums, pleased at the sight of her finger glistening (before it is quickly washed away by the water) when she pulls it back. A whine practically rips from your throat when you feel her absence, and you begin to wonder how you’ve managed to become so desperate within minutes. On a usual day, she’d tease you until you begged for it, but all she wants is to see your face when you reach the peak of your orgasm. It’s the one thing she thinks about when she’s on her missions, or when she's sat at the office— the way you cry her name, her real name, the way you tremble. The thought causes her to make a sound you swear she’s never made before, a whimper.

Her finger moves back to where it was, caressing and moving through each fold until she’s circling your entrance. You’re grateful she clips her nails (she’d rip them off if you told her to). Arlecchino’s red crosses meet your own eyes, and her eyebrows twitch in question. When you nod in response, your hips moving slightly, the corners of her lips twitch slightly in a smile as she presses her finger in, then another. The noise that comes from you can only be described as unholy, and it drives Arlecchino on further. She lets you get used to the sensation before she curls her fingers up into the same spot you happen to miss every time you do it yourself. Your eyes fly open and your lips part, but she speaks before you can make noise.

“Shh, be quiet. The shower doesn’t muffle everything.” You know nobody will hear anyway, but she’s always liked the idea of you trying to stay as quiet as possible, the look on your face every single time a louder moan escapes you. Perhaps it’s some sort of fantasy she has, to get caught, or at the very least, the prospect of being caught. You’re ripped out of your thoughts when Arlecchino curls her fingers again, finding a rhythm that has you bucking your hips. She leans down, mouth attaching to one of your nipples, and she practically groans herself. The water has formed droplets on your skin, and she thinks it makes you look even more appealing. There seems to be something about you, in the shower, whispering her name that seems to get her. She swears she could practically orgasm herself just at the sight of you.

“Peruere, please,” comes the mewl from you, words mixed with shaking breath. She (and you, for that matter) feels you clenching around her, and it only drives her to continue. A hand comes to rest in the soaked strands of her hair, tugging gently, and she knows it’s a sign that you’re close. Again, she chuckles, releasing your chest and moving her lips back to your own. Her tongue touches your bottom lip, and when you, somehow, in your pleasure clouded mind, deepen the kiss, her thumb finds your clit. The pressure is light, and it takes only a couple of circular movements before your hand in her hair tightens, your voice rising to a soft cry as you finally get the orgasm you’ve been chasing (alone or not) for such a long time. Her movements continue until your gasping turns to heavy breathing, and your eyes manage to focus on her again. Only then does Arlecchino pull out her fingers, holding them up to show you, like she always does. She knows it embarrasses you, she can tell by the way you avert your gaze. And as expected, you practically choke on your own saliva when she doesn’t hesitate in cleaning her fingers. Not by running them under the water, but letting her tongue flicking out of her mouth to lap up the evidence of your pleasure.

“What are you— you can’t do that.” You sound practically horrified at the notion (like you haven’t spent nights with her fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet, or to do exactly what she’s doing now. You enjoy those. It isn’t so bad when you’re tasting yourself, for some reason). Eventually, when she sees your wide eyes, she relents, moving to run them under the water.

The water isn’t as hot anymore, having dulled to a lukewarm temperature. “The water bill will be high this month, I assume.” Arlecchino says it with such nonchalance that you can’t help but snort. Biting your lip, you join her in her joking. “I didn’t wash my hair. Warm it back up. I know you can.”

[enwoso]

good cop | alessia russo

lil halloween inspired fic. tbh i dunno what this is- half of it i wrote at the start of the month if i’m be honest with you all

a little bit suggestive.

masterlist

“baby? c’mon we need to be heading out!” you called out from the other side of the bathroom door, alessia had been in there for at least forty five minutes getting ready for the night.

you and alessia going to a halloween party that one of the arsenal girls had set up. you and alessia had decided to do a couple costume, alessia as a police women and you as her prisoner.

you had gotten ready in record speed time, all you had to do was put on a bright orange jumpsuit with a white tank top underneath, and scrape your hair back into a bun. but alessia was always one to take her time when getting ready no matter the occasion.

“we’re gonna have them all teasing us again, if we’re late” you carried on as you walked a little further down the hallway to get your phone which had been sat on charge in your shared bedroom for the past half an hour.

a small chuckle leaving your lips as you spoke, remembering all the teasing comments the team made about you and alessia the last time you arrived at the gathering late. it was only by ten minutes but the team had a way with words by saying you were both too in love?

you shaking your head at their teasing comments as you remember alessia’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. if you could be too in love with someone than that’s definitely a level you were at with alessia as you look at her as if she is the one who hangs the stars in the sky at night.

pulling you out your daydream as you hear the bathroom door click open and alessia’s sock covered footsteps get closer to you. a slight push of the bedroom door and there she was, a slight gasp coming from you as she entered the room, your jaw dropping.

“it’s too much isn’t it. i’ll go-” alessia mumbled seeing your reaction however you weren’t gasping at her in a bad way, quite the opposite actually.

“no- don’t.” you quickly choked out as alessia was about to spin on her heels. “you look gorgeous, my girl.” you smiled taking her in her outfit and how sexy she looked in it.

black shorts which were short but hugged her legs in all the right spots, some black fishnet tights lining her long legs and a black v neck polo on her top half. a silver police badge on her chest and a belt with silver hand cuffs hanging down from the side as her hair was curled lightly at the ends.

“you think?” alessia asked clearly unsure scanning her outfit over once again, but as she looked up seeing the smirk on your face she knew that the outfit had clearly had some sort of affect on you.

“oh baby i don’t think, i know” you whispered as you stood up from the edge of the bed inching closer to her, your hand’s slithering around her waist pulling her closer to you with a sudden urgency that had spiked.

your eyes flick between her eyes and her lips, words being spoken without the use of actual words as you close the gap. capturing her lips in a kiss which starts slow and sweet, a kiss that doesn’t need to ask for permission instead takes before it turns hungry and desperate.

alessia’s mouth moving against yours with an urgency which only matches your own and the taste of her is intoxicating with a slight hint of the lip gloss she’d probably put on near moments before hand.

the kiss deepening and growing more intense by the second as your pressing instinct each other as both your hands roam and tug each other as if you both can’t bare there to be any distance between the two of you.

your hands finding the back of her neck, pulling alessia impossibly closer as her hands possessively grip your waist making your head spin.

your lips leaving hers as a small whine slips from her at the loss of contact as you trail kisses from her lips and down to her neck. finding her sweet spot and sucking harshly on it, drawing a moan from her as you graze your teeth along her skin. your skin lighting on fire from the sounds escaping from her pretty lips

“do we have to go-” you breathed out against her neck as a small giggle came from her as you went back to nipping at her neck small whispers falling from her lips.

“we wouldn’t hear the end of it if we didn’t show” alessia managed to squeak out as a small huff came from you as your teeth sunk into her, you were all worked up and wanted to instead be falling through the bed sheets not through club doors.

you reaching up to move a strand of alessia’s hair behind her ear as you nibbled slightly on her earlobe, “make sure you don’t lose them handcuffs. they’ll come in handy later darling.”