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jayparked · 4 months ago

Text

relief switch | sim jaeyun | m

pairing: switch! sim jaeyun x switch! female reader

genre: smut

au: established relationship

rating: explicit/18+, minors dni

word count: 7k

sexual warnings: switch/soft dom jake and switch y/n, oral (male receiving), fingering, dirty talk, head pusher jake, unprotective sex, non penetrative and penetrative sex, whiny jake, begging, swearing, slight size kink???, thigh riding, hair pulling, lots of praise (praise kink???), spanking, naked dry humping(??? idk what else to call it), pet names (useful girl, sweet boy, good boy/girl, sweetheart, babe, baby, my love etc i practically used them all), body worship, marking, biting, edging, choking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, creampie, a bit of nipple play, roleplay for like .02 seconds, lots of moaning/whimpering/whining, a smidge of degradation, jake is down horrendous, they're so in love it makes me sick, good aftercare :]

a/n: sorry idk what demon possessed me. also shoutout to my best friend @sungbeams this one is for you ♡ and no i am not jayunki biased i dont wanna hear it anymore k thanks ♡

Groans and jangling keys fill your small apartment as you and your boyfriend return home from your prospective jobs at the same time. No words are spoken as you both remove your shoes, throwing them haphazardly with a pout towards the shoe stand near the front entryway. Neither of you bothers to turn on the light, leaving your apartment in a calming darkness as the sun sets outside.

“Today sucked.” Jake finally breaks the silence, leaning against the front door. His eyes shut for a moment as he loosens his tie from his neck.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you grumble, hanging up your jacket and sticking your hand out for his without a glance.

He hands it to you with a sigh. “I’m honestly in a terrible mood. Just a fair warning in case I say something a little mean. I just genuinely do not have an ounce of joy in my body right now.”

Normally, you would be comforting your boyfriend without letting another moment pass by; guiding him to the plump couch and putting on his favorite show, making him his favorite food, snuggling up with him and whispering sweet words in his ear while you run your fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. It’s a foolproof plan for when he’s having a bad day or just needs some extra comfort.

But, like him, you also do not feel even an ounce of happiness in your own body. And a part of you feels guilty for not being able to swallow it down so you can be there for him properly.

Noticing the difference in your behavior, Jake straightens himself, tilting his head to the side while he looks at you with furrowed brows.

“You okay, babe? Work doesn’t usually get to you like this. Do you want to talk about it?” He speaks to you with a low softened voice, despite his earlier proclamation.

Vigorously, you shake your head. “It’s just dumb stuff and I know I’m overreacting slightly. I just…I don't know…I kinda wanna just be in a bad mood? Does that make sense?” you chuckle, “I know it sounds dumb but-“

“No, I get it,” stepping towards you, Jake pinches your chin gently between his thumb and pointer finger, “Hell, take it out on me if you need to.”

It might be the way his thumb is lingering along your jawline now, hovering so his skin is only slightly grazing against yours, or the way his eyes darken as he looks at your lips, but something in his words sounds more like a plea than a simple comedic suggestion.

You narrow your eyes at your boyfriend, trying your best not to convey how instantaneously he takes over your mind and body. It’s dizzying the way he looks you up and down, consuming how you can feel the heat from every slight touch of his hand.

“How would you like me to take it out on you?” You question with a lowered voice, tilting your head down slightly to flick your eyes more up at him, batting your eye lashes in a way you know he can’t resist.

His thumb stops moving just below your bottom lip where his eyes also rest. “Well, depends on the type of day you had. Do you need to let out your anger? Pretend I’m your boss and raise your voice, say some absurd things? Or do you need to feel useful?” The more he talks, the lower his tone and volume go, his voice growing softer while his speech slows. To make it worse, at the end of his sentence he releases your lips from his gaze, his deep brown eyes flicking up ever so slightly to meet your own. And you instantly become putty in his hands.

“Useful,” you mutter, averting your gaze to the side to avoid the smirk you know is displayed on his handsome face.

“Oh, I can put you to use, my love. Knees. Now.” Jake commands with a snap of his finger before pointing it down at the ground and using his other hand to give your bottom lip a quick swipe with his thumb.

“Right here? In the entryway? What about the bedro-“

“I thought,” he cuts you off, removing his hand from your face to slowly start undoing his belt, “you wanted,” the belt’s on the floor, his hands now unbuttoning his slacks, “to be,” his eyes are locked on yours, “useful,” he growls.

Placing a hand on the back of your head, he leans you forward, giving you a swift tender kiss on the forehead before pushing your head down.

You fall to your knees quickly, your hands sliding down his torso until they rest at his hips where his slacks are barely hanging on by his growing bulge that you’re now eye level with.

Between clenched teeth and a sharp inhale of his breath, Jake commands, “Don’t make me have to ask you twice.”

Your hands move without any further hesitation to push his slacks and underwear down from his hips, his hardened member bouncing at the release of the constraints. How is he already this hard? Jake’s weeping cock is already fully stiff and alert, a small bead of precum glistening at his tip, begging for contact.

Looking straight up at your man, wanting to hold his gaze, you stick your tongue out and give him a long lick from the base of his member to just below the bulbous part of his tip. Jake’s head falls back against the door, his eyes fluttering to the back of his head as one of his hands reaches for your hair. He strokes it gently at first before giving a warning tug.

“Please,” he whines softly with an airy gasp, eyes still closed, “not today. Don’t tease me today, Y/n.”

Even though he’s not looking, you still smile up at him fondly. Just for a moment, savoring the desperate look on his face before swirling your tongue along his tip.

Jake’s body trembles, mouth open slightly as he sucks in a breath. Then suddenly, he opens his eyes. They narrow down at you with a darkness that loudly tells you he is not planning on warning you again. Jake places both of his hands around your head, palms brushing your temples as he lines your mouth to his cock.

You hold his eye contact as you open your mouth and wait for him.

You don’t have to wait long. Jake has never been the patient type. And when it comes to you sucking him off? He was never really good at playing around and teasing and for sure did not like to have that patience tested.

Slowly, but steadily, Jake pushes himself into your mouth until your nose brushes his abdomen. Stifling a gag, you moan against his body and try to maintain your focus. His entire body shivers as he holds you in place, hands still cupping your face lightly as your eyes flutter shut. It takes everything in you to try to remember to breathe through your nose, or really, to remember to breathe at all. Which seems ridiculous but, in this moment, every cell of your body is consumed by him.

Jake’s head falls back against the doorframe yet again, an intense inhale goes in through his nose and his lips form in a tight line. He may have tried to contain his moans but couldn’t suppress a deep, guttural groan from ripping out deep within his throat.

“Fuuuckkk, baby. How do you always take me so well?” His thumbs brush at the tears welling up under your eyes, a soft, fond smile forming on his face.

The softness of his features only lasts for a moment before he starts moving his hips with a perfect cadence, relentlessly fucking your throat.

“That’s my good, useful girl,” Jake slowly groans. With each thrust that has him hitting the back of your throat, you try to focus on your breathing even more. Your goal is to not gag, no matter how much your body wants to, no matter how much you know he would love it. He’s claimed in the past that hearing you gag on him alone gives him an insane ego boost. But feeling it? Oh he couldn’t contain himself. Knowing he’s too big for his perfect girl but she tries her best to please him anyways? One of the best feelings a guy could ever hope to experience.

And because of this, Jake knows exactly when you’re on the brink of hitting your limit. As much as he would love to chase his own pleasure, he’s choosing to think outside of himself and knows you need this more than he does.

One of Jake’s hands moves to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and your mouth off of his slick cock, leaving a string of saliva connecting the two of your bodies together.

Jake kneels down until he’s face to face with you, holding your face in his hands as he looks in your eyes. “That’s all I needed. Now, let me get a good look at you.”

His grip makes it impossible for you to look away. All you can muster out is a slight moan in protest, your bottom lip jutting out as you furrow your eyebrows. Thumbs catching some runaway tears from under your eyes, Jake lets out a low chuckle, peppering quick kisses along your face.

“As good as you make me feel,” he starts, guiding you up to your feet and leading you towards the bedroom, “it’s not how I want to come.”

“But I barely even-”

“Shhh,” Jake abruptly pushes you up against the wall in the hallway, his lust filled eyes combing over the spots where his hands roam all over your body, “it’s okay, baby. That’s all the use I needed from you. You did amazing. Let me make you feel good now.”

Gently and slowly, at first, he kisses your lips, moving your arms so they wrap around his neck. Muscle memory has your hands interlocking in his hair at his nape, giving a slight tug which elicits a sweet groan from your man. It doesn’t take long after that for the kiss to deepen, Jake moving one his knees to press against your clothed heat. He pulls away from you briefly to look in your eyes, looks down at his knee then back up at you, giving you an encouraging nod, his eyes wide and eager, swimming with excited anticipation.

You look deeply into Jake’s eyes as you lower your core down to his thigh, holding his gaze as you slowly move yourself along his muscle. You can’t hold in the soft whine that comes out as you finally feel some friction on your needy clit. Jake loves and hates when you hold eye contact and moan like this, claiming it’s an unfair use of power. He shakes slightly under your touch, gripping your hips tightly enough to surely leave some marks. He tries to hold your eye contact, but can’t help as his eyes roll back, his body moving closer to yours to grind with you.

“Fuuckkk, baby,” Jake lulls out, “you really needed me this badly?” He continues to grip your hips, now guiding you along his thigh. His assistance reveals his own desperation. Jake pushes you down harder against him while simultaneously moving you back and forth at a faster pace. Pretty little desperate whines come out of him as he stares hazeley at your lips.

“Mmmm, sweet boy, look at you. So desperate to make me feel good, hm?” It was hard to talk like this in this position you’re in. Too easy it would be to give into your boyfriend’s ministrations, too easy it would be to give in to your own wants and pleasures.

“Please use me now.” Jake’s grip on your hips tighten. Your wincing muddles amongst his moans as he grinds you harder against his thigh.

“Please, baby,” he begs again, his yearning glossed over eyes meet your gaze once more. A lightning shock shoots down to your already throbbing core, “Please need me.”

That is your last straw.

“Oh my- I need you so badly, Jake. I can't take this teasing foreplay anymore. I need to feel you inside me. Baby, please.”

Switch flipping yet again, Jake doesn’t hesitate and wraps both of your legs around his waist, now carrying you to the bedroom while you feverishly kiss along his neck and jawline, leaving a pretty trail of love marks as you go.

He walks towards the room with long confident strides, holding you up easily with one hand as he opens the door. And once you’re both inside, he closes the door behind him with a simple kick of his foot, not even bothering to look back as he does so.

Laying you down softly on the bed, Jake’s jaw clenches as he works to fully undress himself. As he’s unbuttoning his shirt, he smiles softly at you and leans forward, connecting his lips with yours yet again. The kiss is soft, delicate, as his fingers continue to work against the stiff buttons of his shirt. Your body relaxes against the kiss, your mouths molding together with familiarity, tongues swimming messily with each other in a familiar dance.

Finally, his top is fully undone but he doesn’t take it off. As for his pants, he’s long forgotten those somewhere near the front door of your shared apartment. Jake doesn’t hesitate with removing your clothes, practically ripping them from your body. He’s fueled by his need to see you naked and needs to see you now.

Your chest rises even faster as your skin is now exposed, your boyfriend taking a moment to marvel at your physic.

“You are so damn beautiful,” he grumbles as he gets on all fours, crawling on the bed until he’s hovering over you, using one hand to pump his length a few times for good measure. He bites his bottom lip as he looks down at himself and back up at you, the sparkle in his eyes all too telling how excited he is to dive right in and ruin you.

“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” He holds himself at your entrance, body frozen in place as he looks into your eyes with those big pleading puppy dog eyes of his that always has you on your knees. You could never say no to him when he looks at you like this. How he manages to look so adorable and sexy at the same time will forever be a mystery to you.

“If we wait any longer I might actually lose my mind,” you huff, leaning forward to cup both of your hands on his cheeks, pulling him forward into a savory deep kiss. Jake’s eyes immediately flutter shut as you guide him down with you, his lips hungrily chasing after your own. Before your head even hits the pillows, Jake blindly inserts his tip inside your cunt, the sensation making you gasp against him.

Jake chuckles against your mouth, taking the chance to quickly pepper sweet kisses around your entire face. “Hmm? Didn’t think I’d be able to do it without looking? Darling I know your body better than anyone else. I could find this pussy anywhere.” The confident smirk on his face pulls you in even deeper to his charms.

His words make you clench around him, making your boyfriend wince slightly.

“So tight. Even though it’s just my tip. I guess I should have taken the time to prep you properly. I’m sorry, darling, this might sting.”

And, without another word, Jake pushes himself forward, his cock sliding into you painfully slow. Each inch stretching you further and further as your body desperately tries to adjust as quickly as it can. A mix between a choked moan and a gasp leaves your lips while Jake turns his head to the side to sink his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, small whimpers coming from him in return.

Wanting to hear more from him, you take one hand and intertwine your fingers in his wavy black locks, tugging slightly so his head is lifted from the crook of your neck. Now that he’s facing you, you can properly look him in the eyes while he whimpers again, this time from the tugging on his scalp. Jake’s bottom lip juts out at you, his puppy eyes are back, pleading for something unknown to you.

Despite his pouty demeanor, Jake is still rocking his hips back and forth, pounding into you at a satiable rhythm. The dynamic between you two might seem confusing to anyone on the outside looking in, but the satisfaction from being with someone who’s both submissive and dominant all at the same time is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Plus, it allows you the space to give the same in return. Taking turns between caring for each others needs to then be the one receiving fulfills you in more ways than you can even begin to explain.

“Aw don’t give me those eyes, pretty boy. You know how it makes me melt,” you sigh, eyes rolling back as you roll your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Let me leave marks on you then.” Jake doesn’t wait for a response. He quickly grabs your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging softly before sucking. Words completely escape your brain as he releases you, smirking before diving back down against your neck. Your brain starts to feel dizzy as he adjusts his hips, fixing the angle of his thrusts ever so slightly to where he knows he’ll hit your g-spot. He nips at the flesh below your ear, right in the spot that sends chills down your entire body. At this point, your clit is throbbing and it’s your turn to become a pouty, moany mess.

“Use your words, Y/n,” Jake chuckles against your neck, giving one last bite before flatting his tongue on the sensitive area.

When he doesn’t hear you say anything in response to his command, he sits himself up so he’s looking in your eyes. One of his eyebrows quirks up, waiting for your response. When you still won’t give it to him, he stops his languid movements and slowly pulls himself out of you with a tsk tsk tsk.

“I know you know better than to ignore me.” He licks his lips slowly and leans forward, his face now hovering directly over yours. Your chest is rising and falling quickly, not realizing how out of breath you were from only such a short time of contact with him. Jake’s head tilts to the side, his eyes darkening ever so slightly as his impatience takes over. Suddenly, one of his hands is lingering over your throat, his thumb lightly brushing against your esophagus.

“Now, beautiful. Why are we being so stubborn all of a sudden? Why aren’t you talking to me?” He releases your throat by moving his hand upward just a bit, his thumb moves along your jawline then up some more to trace along the outside of your bottom lip. Tingles and chills naturally erupt throughout your body with every soft touch he leaves on your skin. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed since you two have been together, Jake still has this unwavering affect on your mind, body and soul. Subconsciously your body communicates with his, going well beyond needing words at times.

But that doesn’t mean Jake doesn’t want to hear them still.

“I know you want something. It’s so easy to tell with the way you’re moaning and the way your hips are bucking up against me. Just say the words and it’s yours.”

It’s stupid to try to compete with him. No matter how hard of a stubborn fight you could try to conjure up, Jake always wins.

Always.

“I want you to play with my clit while you fuck me,” you whine, drawing out the last syllables in an unmistakably ‘you can’t say no to me’ way, shaking your shoulders, closing your eyes and jutting out your lower lip for extra affect. He might be the one to win every time it comes to stubbornness, but no one can deny the fight you put up when it comes to pouting, begging, and pleading.

“Ugh, baby don’t give me that look, please,” Jake rolls off of you, now on his back beside you with one arm covering his eyes, “I just want to hear you say what you want. I love listening to your demands. It's so sexy when you tell me what you need.”

“Would it be even sexier if I just do it?”

Jake moves his arm slightly to look at you with a questioning yet excited gaze. His hesitation and agape mouth is all the answer you needed.

Without letting another second pass, in one swift motion you’re now on top of him; both legs straddling either side of his thighs and your core hovering dangerously close to his cock.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands up in the air somewhat similar to a surrender pose. Jake’s eyes dart all across your body, genuinely not knowing what to do. His mind races with all the places he wants to put his hands on you, all the things he wants to do and say to you. It’s happening so fast that he’s stuck in a frozen state.

You place one hand confidently on his chest, making sure he stays put. It’s your turn to hover your face over his, taunting him with what looks like is going to be a kiss, but you pull back at the last second, smirking at the dumbfounded look on your boyfriend’s face.

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’?” You tease.

“Oh yes, I have,” he nods quickly, eyes wide as he licks his lips hungrily, his hands now resting comfortably (and cockily) behind his head, “but I think I could still use a demonstration.”

With a smirk, you lean down and kiss his plump lips. It’s slow and intentional, setting the pace of not wanting to get too lost in the moment. After a few languid exchanges, you lower your hips down until finally, finally, your still sopping cunt makes contact with his length. You know he expects you to be just as impatient as him, to just grind against him a couple times before finally letting him back inside you.

But that would just be too easy.

You slowly start to grind against him, moving back and forth slowly. You press down harder against him when you get close to his tip, making the poor boy moan louder and louder each time you do so. Almost immediately your slick is coating him, the friction now even more satisfying the more you grind against him.

“Ugh…Y/n…baby…put me in already,” he begs, his eyes clenched tightly shut, “Put me in so I can start playing with your clit like you wanted.” Beads of sweat start to trickle down his temples, his cheeks flushed a glowing shade of pink. You silently ignore his pleas, wordlessly picking up your pace and pressure. Jake’s hands fly to your hips, nails digging into your skin at a satisfying grip. At first, you thought he was going to attempt to stop your movements. But, to your amusement, he’s only assisting you more. He guides your hips along his length while bucking his hips upward. You’re desperately trying to revel in the absolute mess of a sight your boyfriend is below you, but the friction against your clit is getting harder and harder to ignore. Jake’s eyes are still shut tight, his bottom lip now quivering as a slew of please’s and an array of petnames leave those pretty lips of his. At this point, your brain is so hazy you can’t even make out anything he’s saying.

Eyes focusing on those quivering lips, you lean in once again, this time more hungry and desperate than before. Going straight for that bottom lip of his, you pull it between your teeth, groaning with him as you feel his cock twitch between your other lips.

“Baby, please. If you don’t slow down I’m going to come.” His legs are starting to tremble beneath you as he desperately tries to find relief and restraint in the same action. His composure is cracking more and more.

And you only want to do as you're told.

So, with a smirk, you slow your pace to a painstakingly slow one. From quick and harsh movements to slow, drawn out romantic ones, Jake is immediately regretting his word choice.

If it’s any consolation at all, it’s just as torturous for you as it is for him. The moans and whines you’ve been trying to trap within yourself are letting loose and competing with the whimpering man beneath you. The longer you draw this out, the harder it is for you to keep your own composure, quickly forgetting the punchline to the joke you’re playing on him.

“Fu-fuck, oh my god. I can’t- I can’t take this anymore, baby. Please, let me come. I need to come,” he pleads with a shaking voice, head thrown back against the pillows so that the muscles in his neck strain. In this position he’s proudly displaying the bright love marks you’ve left along his delicate skin. Seeing those marks ignites something truly primal within you, knowing that he is all yours and everyone, stranger or familiar, will know it without a doubt. Jake always wears your marks proudly after the fact too, claiming that if anyone has an issue with it they’re just immature and jealous that he gets fucked so well and they don’t. It’s a part of what makes marking him up even more arousingly special. Plus, it’s not like he doesn’t do the same to you. The running joke at both of your places of employment is that whenever either of you come in with a new scarf or turtle neck it’s to maintain what little bit of professionalism you have left. But if anyone asks about it…neither you nor Jake are shy of pulling down the garments and displaying the pretty bruises in any coloring stage they may currently be in.

“You want to come now?” You finally speak up. Jake’s muscles start to twitch all throughout his body at the sound of your sultry tone. You watch as he bites down on his bottom lip hard, gripping your hips even tighter as he desperately tries to hang on for just a little bit longer.

Jake finally opens his eyes to give you that irresistible pleading stare. “Yes, please.”

“Such a needy boy, all ready to come without even being inside of me,” you coo and Jake just whimpers in response. You lean your head down next to his ear, making sure he feels the warmth of your shaky breath as you tell your sweet boy to come for you, eliciting a quick bite on his earlobe.

Of course, you do this while guiding your cunt only along the tip of his cock now, thankfully (in Jake’s mind at least) picking up speed once again. Jake’s mouth falls open in the perfect ‘O’ shape, his moans coming out in gasps and he looks in your eyes. Mere moments later you feel his cock spasm beneath you, his hips bucking up as he sits up slightly, spurts of cum shooting past your folds and onto his stomach.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close against him as his chest rises and falls quickly. Jake whimpers and nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, leaving soft desperate kisses where he can. In turn you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your head against his. Soft murmurs of praise and comfort leave your lips as you rub your thumb in small circles against his bare skin. You both stay like this for a moment, you not caring about the pause in intimate physical action. In your relationship, this moment of sex is the most intimate you can be with one another and it’s something you cherish deeply. Knowing that the both of you put the other person's needs and comforts before their own is something unique to you both.

The heartfelt moment doesn’t last as long as it usually does though, because before you can even blink you find yourself with your back now on the bed and Jake with a devilish smirk looming above you.

“My turn,” he snarls, grabbing your hips roughly and flipping you onto your stomach. Time isn’t wasted with your impatient man as he pulls your hips towards him, placing a hand between your shoulder blades to keep your head down.

A loud smack followed by your body wincing, Jake rubs his hand soothingly on the mound of your ass that he just spanked. He’s cooing something under his breath, but your heart beating loudly in your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s saying exactly.

You’re about to ask him to repeat himself, turning your head so you can see him properly, when he smacks his hand across your butt harder than before.

“Did I say you can move? Face back down.”

The growl in his undertone sends shivers down your spine, eyes widening as you turn back and do as you're told.

Not long after that you feel three of Jake’s fingers push deep into your cunt, pistoning in and out at an insane speed, especially considering he hasn’t properly warmed you up.

You cry out in surprise, gasping into the bedsheets while the friction and lack of proper build up confuses your body. All the tension from before blooms inside you and you can't believe you’re already feeling that white heat about to burst inside you.

“You’re already clenching around my fingers,” Jake chuckles in surprise, not relenting on his speed as he continues to scissor his digits inside of you, “oh my poor needy baby, you’re absolutely soaking me.”

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to think of anything to hold onto your sanity. You absolutely cannot come this quickly, you’ll never hear the end of it from Jake. You wouldn’t put it past him to brag to everyone and anyone he knows about it too, it must be some kind of record, right? Making your girlfriend come in less than a minute? Maybe even less than thirty seconds? Yeah there’s no way you can let him have this one. But fuck, he really knows how to curl those fingers perfectly within you, beckoning your release with aggressive tender strokes.

Tears prick your eyes and you can’t stay still, grasping at the bedsheets frantically while you try to adjust your body to avoid the inevitable.

“Not so funny when the tables are turned, huh?” Jake chuckles menacingly, speeding up his pace and flicking his thumb against your throbbing clit. It feels like he’s about to split you in two with his fingers alone and your entire body is at war with itself – unsure if it loves the contact or wants to get away.

“As soon as you come I’ll give you my cock again. That’s all you gotta do.” He states plainly, almost nonchalantly, eyes focused as he watches his fingers drill in and out of your hole, unknowingly pushing you right over the edge and perfectly into his trap.

Everything blurs as your release erupts. Moans of pleasure and surprise fill the room while Jake grabs ahold of your hips, rooting you in place.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you. Just needed to hear my voice to get you to come undone, hmm?” His one hand roams over the mound of your ass while he murmurs to you, fingers still languidly pumping in and out of you. Your muscles are finally starting to relax, legs still shaking as your breath catches up with you. Just as you’re about to collapse into the bed, Jake says one word that has your eyes opening wide in surprise.

“Ready?”

You open your mouth to ask ‘Ready for what?’ but before you can get the words out your cunt is deliciously stretched, now filled to the brim with your boyfriend’s throbbing cock.

“Ah-aahhh,” Jake sighs, “you’re still so tight holy shit.”

You jolt forward as you feel his tip kiss the edges of your walls. Pulsing around him, you’re still sore from the damage his fingers did just moments before. Jake’s hands move from your hips and roam your body, admiring everything about you as he gives you a moment to adjust to his girth. His hair tickles between your shoulder blades as he leans forward to plant chaste kisses across your skin, groans singing out between each one that he leaves. His cock twitches inside of you and you know it’s taking everything in him to keep calm and still. Even his breathing is becoming rigid and off beat.

Wordlessly, he lifts himself up and slowly pulls himself away from you until just his tip is inside. It’s like you can hear his brain churning with thoughts and ideas, but you know his brain fog can get just as bad as yours and he’s probably lost in the moment.

Now that you’ve had a taste of him, though, you’re not letting him off so easily.

“Jaakkeeee,” you whine, wiggling your ass slightly to get his attention, which only backfires and makes your body flinch with the feeling of him still partially inside of you.

“I’m trying not to go crazy here.” He laughs. You turn your head to look over your shoulder and see your boyfriend's eyes glued to where you’re both connected.

With a warning bite to your tone, you mutter his name again and he groans in response, biting down hard on his bottom lip before chuckling to himself.

“Alright. You asked for it.” He snaps his hips forward and slams his cock deep into you again. Instead of starting a slow rhythmic pace he thrusts quick and hard. Your body is pressed firmly into the mattress with the way he’s holding you down, his grip stronger than you’ve ever felt in the past.

The pace he’s set is dizzying, pounding you deep into the mattress as the sounds of your squelching wetness fills the room. Your body doesn’t even get a chance to fully appreciate the bliss he’s bringing you before your system is shocked again and again and again.

“Gonna fuck you till you’re good and dumb, all you’ll be able to say is my name,” he grunts, giving a deep smack to your ass before grabbing your hips and pulling you back and forth with his thrusts.

Normally you’d giggle at him in response, but fuck he might actually be fucking you stupid. Moans, whines, and his name is truly all your lips can form. You want to scream out how good he’s making you feel, but each time his cock slams against your sweet spot your eyes roll to the back of your head and you lose any coherent thought that was trying to form inside your brain.

None of it goes unnoticed, of course. Jake is a very observant and attentive boyfriend in every sense.

“What? Five seconds with my dick inside you and you lose your mind? Who knew you would be such a cock hungry little slut.”

“Just…just for you.” Is all you manage to gasp out knowing how much Jake loves to hear how you only go crazy for him.

“Fuck.” His thrusts quicken despite his already relentless pace. Jake pulls your hips upwards ever so slightly, but it’s enough to change the angle, his tip now hitting a perfect bullseye against your sweet spot. The force of his body slamming into yours doesn’t give you a chance. Before you know it, you’re coming undone yet again, body shaking as you gush all over his cock.

“You’re coming so quickly tonight, baby. Work really has had you all pent up. Don’t worry, just hang on a little bit longer and then you can rest, okay?” Jake kisses the spot between your shoulder blades again, one of his hands reaching around to grab at your breasts. He tweaks at your perked nipple as his pace becomes sloppy and uneven, his head resting on your back as his hips continue to snap back and forth. Small whimpers leave his lips as he chases his second release that he’s been holding onto for so long now.

“Mmm, fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he whines, lifting his head up and placing his hands back on your hips.

Three more thrusts is all he has left in him. On the final thrust he grinds his hips harshly against you, making sure his cock is as deep in your cunt as it can possibly be as he spills his seed deep within your clenching walls.

The warmth weirdly soothes you through your overstimulated body. Being full of him like this makes you feel even closer to him and it’s something you’ll never get tired of. Feeling his cock twitch relentlessly inside you is addicting, your body trembles with satiated pleasure around him, wishing this feeling never had to end.

“Fuck that was a lot,” Jake mutters to himself. You feel him spilling out of you even with his cock still stuffed inside of you. You chance a look back at your boyfriend and marvel at the sight of him; wavy hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his eyes fluttering slightly from bliss and tiredness, and his beautifully plump lips parted slightly as he tries to regain his breath. It’s a breathtaking sight, and one you’ll never truly get used to seeing.

All too soon, Jake slowly pulls himself out of you. The loss of contact from him has you wanting to throw a mini fit, but you’re too tired to fight for it. Plus, it’s not like you’ll be feeling this emptiness for long. The likelihood of you being woken up in the middle of the night with your boyfriend between your thighs, lapping up the previous night's leftover reminiscence, is very high. Once is never enough when it comes to Sim Jaeyun.

After a moment, your boyfriend helps you flip over onto your back, nessling himself against your warm body as you try to catch your breath. Your arm wraps around him automatically, holding him as close to your beating heart as you can muster.

Silent minutes pass by. Both of your chests finally fall into a calm and matching rhythmic beat and his skin isn’t feeling as hot to the touch as it was moments ago.

With a groan, Jake sits himself up and stretches his arms over his head, letting out a satisfied sigh as he brings them back down.

Turning to you, Jake leans down and presses a light kiss to your forehead, his lips quivering slightly as his body still recovers from the intense orgasm. Wobbling slightly, Jake leaves the bedroom and flicks on the bathroom light, returning in a short minute with a paper towel. Wordlessly, he tilts your chin up with a delicate hand, fingers tracing outlines of your skin as he carefully collects the sweat from your face. And he continues this down your entire body, even opening your legs to gain access so he can clean the cum from between your legs.

He leaves again, probably throwing out the paper towel, obviously. Jake doesn’t return empty handed though. Water droplets intertwine between his fingers as the condensation slips from the water bottle he has in hand. He sits down on the bed again, smiling at you softly as he uncaps the water bottle, motioning with his head for you to sit up.

You do as you're told, wincing slightly as you truly get a feel for how sore you are. Everything hurts. The muscles in your legs, your still pulsating clit, your insides, literally everything. You scoot backwards so you can rest against the headboard and reach for the water bottle in Jake’s hand. He pulls it away, shaking his head as he tells you to open your mouth.

How could you not smile slightly as you tilt your head back, water dribbling down the sides of your chin as your boyfriend giggles next to you, cupping his hand under your face to catch the escaping water, as if that would do anything.

Cheeks full of water and eyes twinkling, you take a moment to look into Jake’s eyes. Something pangs lovingly deep within your chest as you’re met with the same look of adoration on his own face. It’s a moment where it feels like time has stopped, the world spinning by as you two live comfortably in your own little world.

Jake sighs as he tilts his head, a sweet innocent smile painted on his face while his shoulders relaxe, still holding your gaze. “I love you.”

All you can do to keep yourself from getting too teary eyed is jut out your bottom lip and hold out your arms to him. Jake smiles again and crawls towards you, the water bottle now resting on the nightstand, his head finding solace on your chest while the rest of his body sits like a weighted blanket between your legs.

Like magnets, your fingers instantly go to his hair, softly running along his scalp while lightly tugging on the wavy strands. Jake sighs with relief and you just know his eyes are already closed. His arms wrap around your waist, squeezing slightly as he buries his face upward to rest in the crook of your neck.

“I love you too,” you whisper back followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head. You feel his lips brush against your neck in a lazy and comforting reply.

Your hands move lower, massaging the muscles of his back as you both go back and forth mumbling and murmuring about how you appreciate each other. The horrid day long forgotten as you lay peacefully within each other’s arms, knowing no matter what tomorrow or any future day may bring, you’ll always have a safe home with one another.

#svnet #jake smut #enhypen jake smut #jake x reader #jake x you #jake x y/n #jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun smut #jaeyun x you #jaeyun x reader #enhypen smut

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giginoai · 2 years ago

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As you search for job vacancies, it’s essential to consider the opportunities available specifically for women. Female job vacancies provide a sense of diversity and inclusion in the workforce and offer the convenience and flexibility that many women need to balance work and family responsibilities.

In this blog-post, we will explore the benefits of a Female Job Vacancy Near Me, provide resources for finding these opportunities, and offer tips for applying and overcoming potential challenges. Let’s dive in & explore the world of female job vacancies.

Benefits of Female Job Vacancy-

Women face unique challenges in the workforce, from gender biases to the pay gap. That’s why Female Job Vacancy Near Me can be an excellent opportunity to overcome these obstacles and build a fulfilling career.

Here are some benefits of considering Female Job Vacancy Near Me:

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#Female Job Vacancy Near Me #part time jobs #data entry jobs #work from home jobs app #part-time jobs

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teliphone · 7 days ago

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Help me, Professor

Summary: You have always heard the view of students falling in love with their professors, but what if you are the professor? You have been a teacher at this university for a while. One of their top students, Aeri Uchinaga, more known as Giselle, starts developing a deep crush on you. You try to keep things professional, but you are both adults. Feelings are hard to avoid.

Warning(s): Smut, Oral, Fingering, Jealousy, Fem!Reader

Word count: 4k

“Professor, I printed all the papers you asked me,” Your female student, Giselle, chirps. She happily hands you the piles of paper. You widen your eyes in amusement. You didn’t expect her to be so fast. You touch the edge of the documents before looking up at her. She has her hands behind her back, cheeks pink, and staring brightly at you.

“You did a good job,” You compliment. You pat her head gently with a smile. She’s the only student here that dyed their hair bright pink. It makes her stand out among the students. Her cheeks turn noticeably red, making you retract your hand. You grip the pile of paper.

“Do you need anything else?” She asks quickly. You shake your head slowly, trying to remember if there were more tasks.

“No, that is all I needed for today,” You thank her. She averts her eyes to the ground and pouts. Your heart squeezes a little due to how cute she is. You wish you could pinch her cheeks, but that would be inappropriate.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” You turn your body to the side, ‘You should go home, it’s getting late.” Giselle stares at you as you walk away. She frowns again, wishing that she could spend more time with her favorite teacher. As you walk, you bite your bottom lip. You curse yourself for feeling things more than just a simple encounter. Giselle is a sweetheart and you’re just her favorite teacher. That’s all.

Once you make it into your classroom you place the paper pile onto your desk. You turn and lean your body against the wood. The room is quiet and filled with empty student desks. Your eyes stop at a certain desk. Giselle's desk. She loves to sit at the front, preferably near your desk. You’ve always caught her staring deeply at you. She’s never shy about it nor does she look away when you make eye contact. You’re always the first to break it, secretly clenching your fist.

Knowing about Giselle was easy. She’s the top student. She’s in multiple clubs and always volunteers at school. Every staff member knew her and all had kind words about her. The students love her and she quickly became popular. Though it was never ever your business, you couldn’t help but notice she never had a boyfriend. You’ve seen her reject her classmates countless times.

You glance at the clock and clear your throat.

“Alright class is over. Quickly recap, we have a guest speaker next week. If you attend, you will get extra credit,” You announce scanning around the room. The students quietly nod their heads and begin packing their bags. You quickly glance at Giselle who is busy applying lip gloss to her lips. Her eyes connect with you and you immediately look away. You return to your desk and focus on your laptop. You read over some emails and reply to them. The sounds of each student leaving the class start to get quiet. You still notice a pink-haired girl in your peripheral vision.

“Class ended Giselle,” You speak up, not looking away from your laptop. She smiles and places her chin on her hand. She tilts her head as she admires you working quickly. She doesn’t reply, which makes you look up from your screen. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. She continues to stare sweetly at you not saying a word. You feel your heart skip a beat, but your face remains emotionless.

“Is there a problem-”

“I need help,” Giselle finally speaks up. You’re stunned for a moment. You lower your laptop screen and avert your full attention to her.

“With?”

“With homework,” She frowns. You let out a soft laugh of disbelief. It was hard to believe her considering she is a perfect A student. She never asked for help before.

“I can set you up with a tutor-”

“I think being taught by you would be the best,” She bats her eyelashes. You nervously fidget with your fingers. You’re starting to understand her behavior.

She has an interest in you. She’s always staying behind after class. She’s always helping you out, even with the smallest task she would gladly do it. She likes to drop subtle hints here and there.

“Giselle, it’s getting late again. You should go,” You kindly urge her. She stares out the window.

“It’s raining. I don’t have an umbrella,” She pouts. You sigh and stare at the one umbrella at the door.

“You can borrow my umbrella,” You offer. She widens her eyes, you can see the sparkle behind her dark orbs.

“But what will you use?” She whines.

“I’ll… figure something out,”

“No. I refuse. I’m not going anywhere,” She grumbles. You realize how stubborn she can be.

“We can use it together,” You suggest. You didn’t find it that inappropriate. You’re just helping a student and yourself out. Giselle seems to light up at the idea.

So here you are, walking closely with Giselle under one umbrella. You try your best to keep a distance which makes your other shoulder wet. She notices and wraps her arm around your bicep. She tugs you closer, her breast squeezing against your arm. Your cheeks turn pink at her closeness.

“Teacher, you’re getting wet,” She whispers. You mentally curse yourself for having a dirty mind. She hides her smile behind your arm. She knew what she was saying.

“Where do you live?” You change the subject.

“I live a couple blocks that way,” She points in a direction. You quietly nod your head and begin walking that way. Giselle doesn’t mind the silence. She is enjoying herself being pressed up against you. She can freely analyze you.

She takes notes of your scent and features. If it was possible to have heart eyes, she would have one right now. You keep staring forward, refusing to look at her. She giggles and hugs you closer to her. She finds you really cute for being shy.

You finally make it to the front steps of her place. Giselle stops right in front of you, under the umbrella. Soft sounds of raindrops hit the surface.

“Thank you,” She smiles.

“Of course. I like to help out my students,” You smile back. She shyly averts her attention away from you. She plays with the heel of her foot. Suddenly she leans forward and gives you a soft kiss on your cheeks. You widen your eyes in shock. She pulls away from the kiss to carefully watch your reaction. She wanted to see if you liked it or not. You stand in silence for a moment. You place a hand over your heart to feel it beating fast. Your cheeks turn red. She smiles and slowly nods her head playfully.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, professor,” She cooes before running in.

Ever since then, she has started to shamelessly flirt with you. The more she does it, the more she becomes brave.

She traps you against the classroom door, locking both hands beside you. Underneath her messy bangs, her dark and playful eyes analyze your face. Her scent fogs your thinking. You nervously clench the bottom of your button-up shirt. You can see a smile slowly creep on her glossy pink lips. You force your eyes shut, trying to focus on your uneasy breathing. She tilts her head in amusement. She finds you cute for being nervous, considering how you’re older than her. She places a finger in the loop of your pants and tugs you closer to her. Your lower stomach rubs against her. Heat rises in your body. You immediately put your hands on her shoulder in an attempt to stop.

“You shouldn’t be doing this. I am your teacher,” You whisper harshly. You glance nervously to the side, staring at the empty desks. She softly chuckles as she wraps her arm around your waist, keeping you locked against her. She leans close to your face. Her lips graze gently against the shell of your ears. Your breathing hicks.

“Teach me how to please you,” She purrs before dipping down to lick your neck. Her wet tongue brushes before she places a soft kiss over it. You grip her shoulders and lean your head back against the door. You can hear the kisses she coats your neck with.

“Professor, tell me,” She whispers. Your eyelid feels heavy as you stare down at her. She still has that playful smile on her lips. Your brain clouds with lust as you gently brush her soft hair. Her long locks fall easily between your fingers.

“Professor”

“Professor!”

You jerk back in surprise, nearly knocking down the pile of paper on your desk. You place a hand on your beating heart and stare at the male student. He stands in front of your desk looking at you worriedly. You fake a cough and quickly straighten your back to act calm.

“Class ended a while ago,” You state. He smiles and plays with the heel of his foot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. You were in deep thought. I didn't know how to approach you,” He explains. You give him a gentle smile to assure him you’re okay. You clasp your hands together on top of your desk. Brightly peering up at him.

“What can I do to help you?” You ask. He shyly rubs the side of his head.

“I am a little confused about today's subject. I was wondering if you could teach me,”

“Which part of the lesson?” You worry, moving the papers on your desk to the side so he can place his journal. He smiles happily and immediately takes a seat on the extra chair.

As you continue to help him out, you can’t help but notice how close he tends to lean over the desk. You could also feel him staring at you instead of the textbook. You decide to ignore it because it could mean nothing. You end the tutoring after fifteen minutes of knowing he could understand the subject. He beams and gathers his things.

“Thank you so much, teacher! You’re the best!” He chirps while skipping out the door. You find your student adorable. A smile creeps onto your lips as you stare at your wooden desk.

There are two soft knocks on the door, making you look up. Her.

Giselle's smile radiates when you make eye contact with her. She pushes herself off the door and walks to you. Her hand clasps behind her back, and her hips sway side to side. She is extremely pretty, almost like a doll. You notice a lollipop stick sticking between her glossy lips. Instead of taking a seat on the chair, she decides to squeeze between you and sit on your desk. She crosses her legs slowly, exposing her soft thighs and the pink thong underneath her skirt. You blush before looking up at her. She twirls the lollipop stick with her fingers. You watch her lips wrap around the red candy.

“He was a little close,’ She breaks the silence, ‘-Don't you think?” Her voice is sweet, but her tone is cold. You lean back into your seat with no expression. You let out a soft laugh of disbelief. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Is she jealous?

“He is just a student I was helping,” You explain. She leans her body weight on one arm. She shrugs, her face expressing ‘whatever.’

“I am a student too,” She chuckles. You quickly glance at the door in caution.

“You’re different,” You whisper. She plops the lollipop out of her mouth, licking her bottom lip while looking deep into your eyes. She uncrosses her legs and slides one of her feet between your knees.

“I don’t like sharing,” She warns before placing her lollipop between your lips. You open your mouth, and she examines you suck on the candy. A soft hum comes from her throat. She slides off the desk and begins making her way to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” She says before walking out. Your tongue brushes against the candy, coating it with the sweet, sugary cherry flavor. You fail to notice that on the other side of the wall is the male student. He stands frozen in shock at what he just witnessed. He was heading back to grab his forgotten pen, not expecting to see you with company. He could sense that the behavior between you and the female student was abnormal. Deep in thought, he walks away from the door with his head down. He makes it outside the front doors when suddenly he stumbles backward from impact. He glares up to see Giselle standing with her arms crossed. Her lips curl into a grin.

“Peeking tom,” She teases, pointing a finger at him. He slaps her hand away from his face in annoyance. He averts his gaze to hide his blushing cheeks. She starts circling him with her arms behind her back. She stops in front of him and leans close to his face. Her chest peeks out of the white button-up shirt. He smells a faint sweet cherry candy scent coming from her.

“Jealous?” She whispers. He pushes her back by the shoulders. She lets out a soft grunt before chuckling. He furrows his eyebrows in concern. He thinks she’s insane.

“I knew it,” She whispers under her breath. She knew he had an interest in her favorite teacher. She could tell by how he looked at her. She starts to pout playfully and places her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Poor you. I don’t think she sees you that way,” She smirks.

‘You don't know that,” He snaps. She narrows her eyes at his confidence. She had no idea he had some type of fight in him. She suddenly finds him more interesting and fun. She turns her head and sees you walking down the hallway. Her heart races in excitement.

“We’ll see about that,” She whispers. Her lips touch the shell of his ears. He leans away in disgust but quickly stops when he sees you walking out the door. He watches how your eyes examine Giselle. For a second, he sees you furrow your eyebrows. You spare him a glance before looking back at Giselle.

“I didn’t expect to see you two here,” You point out, smiling kindly. You stand straight with your head high to show authority as a professor. Giselle tugs him closer and smiles brightly.

“Just hanging out with my cute friend, that's all,” She beams while pinching his cheeks. He grumbles and tries to fight against her. Your smile nearly drops at how touchy she’s being, but you quickly recover.

“That’s sweet,” You keep it short. You can sense the conversation coming to a quick end.

“Well, it was nice seeing you two here. I shall take my leave now,” You excuse yourself. As you take a step forward, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist. You widen your eyes at the culprit. Giselle has a pouty face again as she clenches onto you. You try tugging your arm away but it causes her to grip harder. Her chest presses against your arm. Heat rises all over, making your cheeks turn pink.

“Giselle-” You gasp.

“Teacher~ Please get home safe okay?” She hums cutely. You nervously gulp. All your facade seems to be sinking down the drain fast. You quickly glance at the male student who is watching closely to everything.

“I will. Thank you,” You choke out, trying your best to end this moment. Giselle’s eye seems to sparkle. She nuzzles her face against your neck cutely, but that makes you turn red. You pull yourself away from her successfully. You nervously laugh it off.

“I will leave now,” You command. You look at Giselle deeply as if you were warning her before leaving. They watch you closely and quietly. Once you were away from their view, Giselle started laughing softly. She wraps her arm around the male student, leaning her chin onto his shoulder.

“See,” She grins. He doesn’t respond. He is speechless.

From then on, he was no longer a problem.

Giselle closes the classroom door and turns the lock. You’re busy typing away on your laptop to notice her locking it. She slowly makes it over to your desk. The day is getting darker, but it’s not new to find Giselle staying after hours to spend time with you.

Giselle gently pushes the laptop screen down. She takes a seat on the desk, blocking you from the laptop. You peer up at her in confusion.

“I need help again,” She begins.

“With today's subject? I thought I went over it slowly-“

“No with something else,” She cuts. You furrow your eyebrows. Before you can ask more, she reaches down to touch your hands. She brings it up to her lap and plays with your fingers.

“I feel tense in my lower stomach,” She explains slowly. You shyly gulp, feeling your body heat up again. She lets go of your fingers and runs her finger in your hair. She pulls you closer and kisses your forehead.

“You know you’re really cute right?” She hums. She peppers kisses all over your cheeks making you giggle. You place your hands around her waist. She bites her bottom lip and traps you around her thighs. Her pink hair falls over her shoulders and touches your arm. She uses her other hand to lift your chin. She smiles sweetly when you lock eyes with her. She kisses you softly, shutting her eyes. You kiss back with the same gentleness. She turns her head, brushing her nose against yours. She teases you by softly biting your bottom lip. She tried to deepen the kiss, but you pull away, chest moving up and down fast.

“Wait- the door,”

“I locked it,” She shushes you by kissing you again. Her hand lowers and she starts cupping your chest. You quietly moan feeling your body heat up.

“We shouldn’t,” You manage to say among the kisses. You get up from your seat, trapping her body between your hands. She smiles because you didn’t fight back. She knows you want to. She starts unbuttoning your shirt one by one. The cold air makes your skin prickle as she exposes your bra. She starts kissing your boobs. She enjoys feeling the plush under her lips. You grip her hair gently, keeping her between your chest.

As she continues kissing you she moves her hand down to your pants. She quickly unbuttons your pants and shoves her hand in. Her fingers find the middle of your core and rub. You moan, tilting your head back.

“You like that?” She chuckles between your boobs. You nod your head feeling your pleasure build up. She removes her hand from your pants causing you to whine. She leans back onto the desk, spreading her legs. You see her white panties underneath her skirt.

“I’ve been a good girl. Help me first,” She purrs. You quickly tug her panties off and shove them into your desk drawer. The white button-up on her starts to feel stuffy. She unbuttons the top few, letting her chest peek out. She watches you closely, resting on her elbow. You sit on your chair and spread her thighs apart. Her pink core makes your lower stomach feel butterflies. You lick your lips in eagerness. You spread her folds and give her a small kitten lick. You start to lick up her slit over and over. She tilts her head back in pleasure. Her core leaks out juices, coating your tongue. Your nose brushes against her clit and she jerks ups.

You give her a couple more licks before flicking your tongue against her clit. She grips her hand onto your head and moans. You wrap your lips around the bud and begin to suck.

“You taste so good,” You purr, causing her to moan loudly. She buckles her hips up. You hold her down by the thighs. You lick harsher, becoming more pussydrunk. The sound of her wetness becomes louder each time you suck and flick your tongue. She bites back her moans. Her eyebrows furrow in pleasure as she watches you. She begins to feel her lower stomach start to tense.

“Keep going, I’m so close!” She chokes out. She grips her boobs and opens her mouth to pant. Her pink bangs begin to stick to her forehead. You pull away from her core. A trail of her juice connects to your lips.

“Your mouth belongs on my pussy,” She moans, forcing your mouth back onto her core. She moans and jerks her hip. You can hear her moans becoming louder and more high-pitched.

“Fuck! Professor, I'm so close. Please please,” She whines feverishly. You give her clit a hard suck and that pushes her over the edge. She cries out and thrusts her core deeper into your mouth. Her juice runs down your chin and drips onto your lap. She cusses and pulls away. Her body jerks in pleasure. You wipe your lips with the back of your hand.

Giselle recovers and slowly sits up from the desk. She wraps her hand behind your neck and pulls you into a kiss. She mumbles soft “thank you’s” between the kisses. She loops her fingers around your waist, signaling you to take off your pants. You quickly pull your pants off, leaving your bottom bare. You feel excitement rush throughout your body. While you were eating her out, your core was pulsing painfully.

Giselle gets off the desk and switches position. You’re now pressed against the edge of the desk. She runs her fingers along your core, happily to find out how wet you already are.

“Turn around for me,” She orders. You obey and turn your body to face the classroom. Suddenly you feel her press up against you. You bite your lower lip as you feel more turned on. Her skirt rubs against your ass. She leans her chin onto your shoulders and kisses your ears.

“Spread your legs baby,” She cooes. You listen and that allows her to shove two fingers into your cunt. You moan and push your butt into her. She thrusts her fingers deep into you. Wet sounds can be heard.

“Hear that professor? You’re being fucked by your lovely student,” She whispers. You shut your eyes and moan loudly. Her pace doesn’t slow down. She wants you to come. You grip onto your desk, your legs begin to shake. She moves her other hand up to your boobs to squeeze them. She plays with your nub between two fingers. All the movement she’s doing is drawing you closer to your high. She can tell by how loud you’ve become. She starts to worry people outside could hear you, but she begins to smile. You’re so loud and needy for her. Her favorite teacher is dripping to her fingers. She quickens her pace.

“Come for me,” She licks your ear. You come onto her hands, letting out a whine. She continues to move her fingers to let you ride out your high. You lean forward onto the desk to catch your breath. Giselle gets turned on again at the position you're doing in front of her. She grips onto the soft squish of your bottom while biting her lip.

“I think I need more help,” She moans. She pushes her core against your butt. You feel her wrap her fingers around your waist. She wishes she had a střäp 0n right now. You let out a soft laugh and gently push her off you. She pouts in disappointment. You turn around and brush her pink hair behind her ears. You stare lovingly into her eyes. She blushes against your gaze and hides herself in your neck. You hold her close and close your eyes. Enjoying the warmth of her presence.

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bvidzsoo · 7 months ago

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Take me to Paris...

▽ Neighbor!Seonghwa ▽

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Park Seonghwa x female reader

∞ Warning: light mocking, blood, murder ∞ Word count: 5.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, single mother!au, moving in together!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: With the appearance of Park Seonghwa in your neighborhood on a random afternoon, you find yourself running into him more often than not. You can't help but be skeptical of him, but I mean, your daughter loves him, so he must be a good man, right?

∞ A/N: I haven't forgotten about this little drabble series I have started a while ago, fear not hehe! Finally, Seonghwa's part is here, I hope it's enjoyable as I find it wonky lol. I don't know yet who I'll be posting next, it could be either Hongjoong, or Wooyoung, or even Mingi. Oh, and nothing is too detailed so you don't have to worry about that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

▽ Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥ Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥

Summer was nearing its end, the weather slowly turning cloudier and moodier. The mornings were chill, refreshing, but throughout the day it would warm up significantly, allowing you to walk around wearing thin and cute outfits. However, by the time the evening came, you’d have to cover up with something warm to keep yourself from catching a cold. All of that while trying to remain fashionable, well, whatever a four-year-old found fashionable enough. Wrestling my little one into outfits that would keep her both warm but not too hot was rather difficult as she turned out to have a rather stubborn persona even at her young age. Not liking to be coddled, but also hating to be alone was something we battled with daily, except on the days when her nanny came over so that I could go to work. My little one hasn’t been trusting of strangers since an even younger age, big eyes wary of anyone who came too close and cooed at her. Perhaps my overprotective tendencies played a big role in my daughter being skeptical of those around her, unless they were little girls who liked to play dress-up and organize tea parties in blanket forts.

Life as a single mother hadn’t been easy, but we managed just fine—have been for a while now. My parents lived in the city next to ours, a mere one-hour long drive away, and that also played a role in me learning how to be independent while navigating through motherhood for the first time. I would be lying if I said it was easy and an absolutely lovely journey, but I also would be lying if I said I haven’t been enjoying every single part of it, every little step my beautiful daughter has taken by my side. Without my two best friends, I probably wouldn’t be living as comfortably as I was at the moment, would be probably juggling between jobs, and considering moving back in with my parents. Arin’s father hasn’t been part of our lives since the second he found out I was pregnant, instead, he ran off to work on a cruise ship, throwing in the excuse that he’d be too absent in our lives like that, and instead he’d like to prevent his daughter from growing up wondering when her father would be back. However, due to his stupid choices he ended up making her wonder why she didn’t have a father like all the other children she went to kindergarten with or played at the playground with. Everyone makes mistakes, and mine was trusting my highschool sweetheart, who also happened to be the biggest asshole and player known to mankind.

With the weather changing drastically and the new school year being just around the corner, I tried to take my little one to the playground as often as I could, wanting her to enjoy the little freedom summer break offered us. My job was rather flexible and allowed me to spend a lot of time with my daughter as I more often than not worked from home, only required to step inside the headquarters when there were important meetings and business proposals. Arin had been excited when I told her we’d be going to the playground once again, before it could get dark, with the thought in mind to let her know that I would be sending her to daycare as I have decided to take on a second job as well. We managed just fine, but I wanted her to have more comfort, more toys, more pretty clothes that she could show off whenever she wanted to.

Her dark hair was in two little pigtails, bouncing on the top of her head with every step she took. The purple jeans she chose to wear didn’t match with the rest of her outfit, but I couldn’t care less when I saw the happy look on her face as we walked over to the mirror. Her blouse was a simple beige colour and had all sorts of different coloured flowers decorating it, her red socks peeking out from her white shoes. Thankfully her most favourite playground was in our neighbourhood, just around the block, and she was more than eager to meet her friends today too. I had held her little hand as we walked down the pavement, grinning as she babbled on about whatever cartoon she had been watching earlier, elated to tell her best friend about it too. Stepping inside the gated playground, I was quickly forgotten as she rushed over to her friends, not paying mind to my request of always staying within my sight. I had walked over to an empty bench and sat down, watching my daughter play around with other children with a smile on my face.

At times, I wondered what life would be like without her. Whether I would have stayed here or moved to another country, whether I would have signed up for another college or remained with the diploma I have right now. Whether I would have chosen a career that was more active and sociable than the one I had now, secluded and homebound. Whether I would have found a man that actually cherishes me and my child, whether he would have gotten married to me first and wouldn’t have run away, leaving a pregnant woman alone to fend for herself and their baby. But it was better without my ex, he would have been a horrible father, and I’d rather my little Arin not have a father figure while growing up than have one that is horrible and makes her hate all men.

It didn’t take long for the other mothers to approach me, wide smiles on their faces as they were happy to see me, happy that Arin was here to play with their children. Most of them were stay at home mothers until their children grew past the point of constantly needing attention and help, and they were rather friendly, understanding, and quite helpful if I needed guidance or a little bit of help. Doyoung’s mother was the friendliest out of them all, she never failed to make my day better and she always brought cookies for the two of us to snack on while our kids played around in the sand. But today she wasn’t here, and that meant I had to face Jake’s mother on my own, a woman that was far from being nice, and never failed to find ways to belittle me for being a single mother. She never said it, but I knew she thought I was a whore; I could see it in her eyes whenever she grinned that fake grin of hers.

“Ah, the weather is so lovely today.” And to my luck, it had been her who approached me first, the other mothers slowly coming up to us, greeting us with smiles and little waves. I paid her no mind, instead looked for my little girl, finding her on the swings as Nakyoung gently pushed her, making Arin giggle loudly.

“Is this real snake skin?!” A mother, one that was rather shallow, exclaimed as she grabbed for Jake mother’s purse, mouth having fallen open.

“Of course, it is,” Jake’s mother chuckled, looking over her sunglasses, “I don’t wear fakies.”

I tried to keep my eyeroll minimal as Jake’s mother threw a fleeting look my way, never failing to flaunt her wealth and the fact that I owned one fake Louis Vuitton bag. Sue me, the design was elegant, and I wasn’t about to leave it at the thrift store just because it was a fake one.

“It must be nice to have a rich husband.” Emma’s mother sighed dreamily, her lipstick a little smudged, but nobody pointed it out to her.

“It is rather comfortable,” Jake’s mother giggled, pushing her lavish curls behind her shoulders, “saves you from a lot of house chores and work I’d rather not do.”

“How are you today?” I felt a soft nudge against my knee, and I turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother, a woman who was beautiful beyond her years, well-mannered, wise, and very sweet. I liked her just as much as I liked Doyoung’s mother, sometimes the three of us would grab some coffee if our schedules aligned.

“Just fine, and you?” I asked, our voices hushed as we tuned out the other mothers’ conversation, not curious of whatever boasting Jake’s mother was on about. She couldn’t tell us anything new, she always repeated the same old stories, changing a few details here and there, thinking we wouldn’t notice.

“Mingyu’s been restless today,” His mother sighed, pursing her lips, “the more he grows, the harder it is to make him sit still.”

“Arin is energetic too.” I chuckled, watching Mingyu’s mother with an understanding look, “And she loves throwing tantrums if things don’t go her way.”

“Ah, of course.” Mingyu’s mother chuckled, shaking her head, “Maybe our little ones learnt it from each other, because Mingyu’s been doing them more frequently too.”

“Certainly, they must be conspiring—”

“Arin and Mingyu’s mothers,” Jake’s mother raised her voice, lips pulled into a fake grin, “are you leaving out others from your conversation now? Isn’t that rude?”

The other mothers chuckled, rather awkwardly, but Mingyu’s mother remained calm as she raised her eyebrows at Jake’s mother, “I don’t think having a private conversation with someone is considered rude despite sitting in a group.”

With a snort, I added, “Especially if only one person is talking in that group, that feels ruder to me…”

The other mothers, besides Mingyu’s, looked around awkwardly, some clearing their throats as the others tried to play it off as funny as they chuckled. Jake’s mother’s lips formed a tight line as she cleared her throat, gripping her authentic snake skin purse like anyone would want to steal it from her.

“I was merely sharing how much my lovely husband loves me.” Jake’s mother chuckled, voice dripping with honey as she blinked innocently, “You know, he’s always eager to please me, and, frankly, if a snake skin purse is what makes me happy as I have to stay at home and raise our child, he’ll get it for me without a fuss. What has your husband given you—”

Her insult wasn’t new, nor impressive, as I blinked at her, lips slowly pulling into a small smile. Mingyu’s mother scoffed next to me, and the other mothers’ looked rather uncomfortable due to the atmosphere Jake’s mother had created now. Really, if the woman wanted to hurt me, she’d have to get a lot more creative with her stupid back-handed insults.

“You know,” My voice was levelled, calm, “if I want to make myself happy, I buy that damn snake skin purse myself. I don’t need a husband who forces me to stay at home, stealing away my freedom, while he goes out and cheats on me as much as he’d like, knowing that when he returns, I’ll be waiting for him with warm dinner on the table and open legs.”

Well, that pretty much shut up the other mothers as Jake’s gasped, looking more than appalled by what I dared say to her face. I wasn’t insinuating anything, but knowing her, she definitely made it about herself in her pea sized brain, gaping like a fish as I rolled my eyes at her and turned my head to face Mingyu’s mother. She had her hand in front of her mouth, trying to muffle her giggles. A young child screamed all of a sudden, alerting us mothers as our heads whipped in the direction of the screams.

“Dear!” Kyuhyun’s mother exclaimed, running over to her child as he was clutching his little knee with tears streaming down his face. Realizing that I haven’t been checking on my little Arin, I let my eyes survey the playground, quickly coming to the alarming realization that she wasn’t anywhere. Heart suddenly racing in my chest, I jumped up to my feet and whipped my head around, alerting Mingyu’s mother.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t see Arin!” My voice sounded breathless as I left my belongings on the bench, taking off in a jog towards the sand. Mingyu was by himself, building a sand tower as he glanced up at me, his little canines showing as he grinned.

“A tower!” He pointed at his sculpture, but I couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Have you seen Arin?” I asked panicked, feelings my hands shake as I tried to fight the impeding panic that threatened to overtake my rational thoughts. I had to stay level-headed if I wanted to find my little girl.

“She went there, I think.” Mingyu pointed behind the big slides, that part of the playground rather obscured as it was covered with large bushes and overgrown grass. Thanking him quickly, I took off towards where the little boy had pointed, lump in my throat and heart in my chest racing wildly as I realized the gate was open and my little girl was talking to a man, giggling and letting him pat her head.

“Arin!” My voice sounded as panicked as I felt on the inside, it was loud and stern, alerting my daughter and the man she stood with. My feet carried me over in no time and I scooped her up in my arms, hugging her tightly, uncaring that she was getting heavier and I couldn’t carry her as much as I would’ve liked to, “Arin.”

I whispered against her hair, kissing her cheek as she giggled, hugging me around the neck as I finally turned my head, glaring at the stranger. But it took me by surprise how well-dressed and handsome he was, standing tall with his hands behind his back, shoulders pulled back, expression blank. The right side of his long black hair was slicked back, the left strands falling into his eye, slightly obscuring it from view. Despite the roundness of them, his eyes were sharp and fierce, it made my heart race once again as I couldn’t read his expression, scared of what he wanted. His nose was tall and his lips plush and plump, skin perfect and sun-kissed, “What the hell are you doing talking to my daughter?!”

My eyes swiftly checked him out again, taking in the expensive looking outfit he wore. His pants were of leather and hugged his long legs elegantly, obscuring the high heeled boots he was wearing. Despite the heat, he wore a black turtleneck with a white shirt and vest over it, all tucked inside his leather pants, with a black coat draped over his shoulders. His necktie was loose, but not to the point it would make his outfit look unkept. For a second, I wondered how he managed it with all the layers of clothing if I was sweating in a simple tee and ruffled midi-skirt.

“I’m afraid you misunderstood my intentions, Miss.” The man’s voice was deep, yet pleasant, taking me off guard by how calm and reassuring it sounded. It didn’t match his face nor outlook, “I was passing by, on my way to my car, when I saw her stumble past the unlocked gate. Worried that she was lost or would run into bad people, I decided to stop and ask her if she was here alone or with someone, with the intention of walking her back to you.”

I gulped as Arin nuzzled against my neck, peeking at the stranger with a shy giggle, “He’s handsome!”

“Arin.” I muttered, and threw her an unimpressed look, “Is it true what the man is saying?”

“Yes!” Arin exclaimed, suddenly pulling away from my neck as she grinned widely at the man. I’ve never seen her act like that towards strangers before, my eyebrows raised in surprise as I watched her make grabby hands at him, “You promised you’d carry me.”

The man’s chuckle was deep as Arin started pouting, making me feel embarrassed slightly, “Arin, you can’t ask people to just carry you around, especially not strangers—”

“But he’s not—” Her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled for a second, “stranger, he’s Seong—hwa?”

The man chuckled and fixed his coat as his hands slipped inside the pockets of his leather pants, “Seonghwa, yes. I promised to carry you to your mommy, but she’s here now, so I don’t have to do that anymore.”

“But—” Arin pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she gave me puppy eyes, “can’t he be my daddy?”

“Arin.” I hissed mortified, cheeks flushing as the stranger raised an eyebrow, looking rather elegant as he did so, “I told you, you can’t ask random men to be your father—I’m sorry.”

I faced the stranger—Seonghwa—and bowed my head as Arin whined, kicking her legs and my ribs subsequently. I grimaced and went to chastise her, but to my surprise, the stranger stepped closer, eyes narrowed, but not maliciously.

“You’re hurting your mother, stop kicking.” The authority in his voice made both Arin and I pause as we both gazed at him with wide eyes, “You should thank her instead for coming to find you, and don’t wander off again, there’s a lot of bad people in the world.”

“Is that true?” Arin whispered, her round eyes falling on me as her lower lip jutted out. I sighed and nodded, facing the man again.

“Thank you, really, and I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” I bowed my head again, then placed Arin onto the ground, taking her hand into mine.

“Be more careful next time, you never know who you come across.” There was an almost dangerous lull to his tone, eyes slightly narrowing before he bowed his head and took off, probably towards his car. I gulped, the lump finally gone from my throat as I watched Seonghwa disappear around the corner, not a speck of dust on his expensive clothes. Then, I felt Arin squeeze my arm and sniff, making me look down at her to find her crying.

“Arin, what’s wrong?” I asked worried, feeling panicked again as all sorts of scenarios ran through my mind. Maybe Seonghwa did something to her and she was scared to say it in front of him.

“Seong—hwa promised to buy me cotton candy once we found you.” Tears rolled down my little one’s cheeks, making me chuckle as I crouched down to be eye level with her, “And he said he’d buy you coffee too.”

“He said that?” I asked surprised, wiping her tears away.

“Yes, he said he likes your skirt.” My eyebrows furrowed as I pressed a reassuring kiss against her chubby and rosy cheek.

“Does he now?” I muttered to myself as I stood up again, and tried to shake off the unease as I guided us back inside the playground. This was a weird interaction and it’s left me feeling uneasy and hopeful that something like this wouldn’t happen again.

Days, weeks, passed by and it seemed like the stranger from the playground was everywhere now. Park Seonghwa, he had said his name was on a random Saturday afternoon, when we bumped into each other at a rather small flower shop, ten minutes away from my neighbourhood. I hadn’t been looking where I was going as I was busy multitasking—as in opening the shop’s door while typing away on my phone to the nanny that I would be home in fifteen minutes—and thus, the second I was out the door I had collided against a hard chest. The apology died down in my throat upon seeing the familiar face, heart racing out of unease rather than excitement. But Seonghwa had been nice, helped me pick up the bouquet I had dropped, and then offered to drive me home as the wind had picked up, dark storm clouds promising a downpour that would come rather soon. But, as I had taught my little Arin to not trust strangers, I didn’t trust this man either, and politely declined his offer. He didn’t seem weird nor made me feel uncomfortable, but I was wary of him. After all, the way we met was more suspicious than not.

The next time we ran into each other was barely a few days after the encounter at the flower shop, when I was out early in the morning, picking up fresh bread and some chocolate croissants that Arin loves a lot. My best friends had slept over the night prior, and so, it was safe for me to leave the apartment on my own, the two would watch over Arin if she were to wake up earlier than expected. The bakery had an adjacent coffee shop as well, and while I waited for my coffee order, I had stepped into line to order the delicacies, unassuming of the round eyes watching me from a table placed by the entrance. I was engrossed in reading through my emails as it was finally my turn in line, but the barista called my name to get my coffee right as I had placed my order for the pastries, and I had no choice but to step aside and quickly fetch my coffee. However, when I made it back to the cashier, the delicacies and my coffee have been paid for. When I asked how, the cashier just giggled about a tall and handsome man, dressed in an expensive suit, having paid for my purchases before he hurried outside. I had swiftly turned around, eyes wide as I caught a quick glimpse of Seonghwa sitting inside a very expensive looking Mercedes Benz parked across the street. My heart had started racing, but not out of unease anymore, but out of curiosity and wonder.

Then the next week had arrived, and Arin and I were at a playhouse when suddenly Seonghwa was sat at our table, smiling widely as he offered an unopened bag of marshmallows to Arin. I couldn’t help but gape at him, wondering whether it was coincidence that he had Arin’s favourite snack at hand. He apologized for having sat at our table uninvited, but he said his niece worked at the playhouse, and upon seeing us he wanted to greet us. Arin was beyond enthralled and begged Seonghwa to stay with us, managing to convince the both of us as we gave in at the end, keen to entertain my young daughter. It was rather heartwarming seeing Seonghwa so eager to play with Arin as they both made their way to the trampolines, Seonghwa looking out of place in his fancy leather outfit. Upon finishing my orange juice, I joined the two and was rather surprised to find myself enjoying Seonghwa’s company. Despite his fierce looks, he was a gentle man with a kind heart, happily playing with Arin, and letting her drag him around while he tried to make conversation with me as well. When I had put Arin to bed, she asked whether we could invite Seonghwa over to our house for a yummy meal.

Not much to my surprise anymore, a day later, Seonghwa and I crossed paths at the convenience store, and I decided to stop being so uptight and stirred up a conversation with him, inquiring of his sudden appearances wherever I went. He said he had recently moved into the neighbourhood, hence why we were crossing paths more often, and he had always liked making new friends, so he was rather eager to get to know me, if I also wanted that. I still didn’t fully trust him—he was still a stranger after all—but I decided to agree to hanging out in the weekend, of going someplace silent and relaxing. Arin could stay with the nanny this time; I didn’t want to involve her just yet knowing she liked Seonghwa rather a lot.

It had been a day before the agreed upon hangout, when I was walking home from a meeting that got drawn out due to a business partner showing up unannounced. Thankfully one of my friend’s was free for the night and went over to my house to help out as the nanny couldn’t stay for the evening as well, stressing me out even more. The sky was dark and the air chilly as I had gotten off the bus. I hadn’t driven to my workplace because I thought the meeting wouldn’t be more than two hours, meaning that it would’ve been still light outside when I had to return home. But that was hours ago, and now I just barely managed to catch the last bus, eager to get home and bury myself under the warm blankets, cuddled up next to Arin and my friend, probably having to watch Arin’s favourite Barbie movie again.

The neighbourhood was quiet as my heels clicked loudly, my pace quickening as I could feel a blister form right underneath my big toe, making me hiss out in pain as I stepped rather wonkily on it. My wrists had started aching from how many notes I had taken, and the satchel bag that hung over my shoulder was heavier than usual due to my laptop being inside it. I passed the convenience store just as the old lady was closing up, and we briefly greeted each other as I sighed loudly, my apartment just three blocks away now, right around the corner. The streets were quiet and a few lampposts were faulty as they flickered, then completely went out, making me shiver as it reminded me of horror movie scenes. My breaths were laboured and my gut feeling told me to just hurry up, so ignoring the ache of my foot due to the blister, I started walking faster, my heels clicking harder against the concrete. Much to my alarm, I could hear hurried footsteps behind myself, almost as if they were trying to catch up to me. My heart had started racing as I gripped my satchel bag tightly, ready to swing it at whoever if they tried to come at me.

I heard a hiss behind and I decided to look back, eyes widening instantly when they fell on a masked man, who had started running at me now. I shrieked and took off, the heels not being an obstacle as I made my way down the street, clutching my bag tightly as it tried to swing around my body. Nothing could’ve stopped me as I ran for my life, chest heaving as I tried not to slow down, the apartment complex I lived in barely a block away now. But the masked man was catching up and I knew I couldn’t outrun him, so I tried to quickly think of an escape route where I could hideout and phone the police. My heart was pumping fast and my lips had started trembling as my body and mind were filled with adrenaline, fuelling my senses to push harder as I made a sharp turn to the left. The alleyway was dark, I hadn’t been here before, and my blood ran cold when I realized the dire mistake I have made. It was a dead-end alleyway, a wired tall fence separating it from the next passage. I was trapped in as I whirled around, eyes wide as they fell on the masked man blocking my only exit. He cackled, suddenly something sharp and glinting appearing in his hands. It was a knife. My body had started trembling as I tried to come up with a plan, hand him over whatever he asked for, but before I could open my mouth to plead for my life, the man stopped abruptly, then heavily fell over, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

I gasped as I watched him frozen, confused and scared of what has happened. Looking around, I couldn’t see anyone, and so, reluctantly I made my way towards the masked man. But when I finally reached him, my eyes widened in horror at the blatant bullet hole in the back of his head, blood oozing out of it onto the pavement, flowing towards the soles of my high heels. I whimpered as I walked around the dead body, eyes fixated on it as if it would revive him, when I crashed into a hard chest. I gasped and opened my mouth to shriek, to call for help, but instead it got muffled by a leather gloved hand, my body getting pushed against the side of one of the buildings the alleyway was encompassed between. My body trembled as I looked up, eyes getting even wider, if possible, as I recognized the familiar face.

“Seo-Seonghwa?” I whispered, eyes falling back onto the dead man before they snapped back to Seonghwa, “What—what is—”

“Shh,” He whispered, pushing the hair out of my eyes as he gently caressed my cheek with his gloved hand, “You’re safe now, nothing’s happened.”

“But—” I had to gulp hard, heart hammering against my ribcage as Seonghwa’s round eyes were the softest I’ve ever seen them be, lips pulled into an almost motherly smile. He was calm, way too calm, as if he was used to this, “But the man’s dead, I—”

“He shouldn’t have tried to rob a woman.” Seonghwa’s sharp words cut me off, his grip slipping towards my chin as he grabbed me firmly, pulling my head closer to his, “He was a dangerous person, I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Upon hearing his words I shuddered, eyes reluctantly traveling lower on his body, stopping on the black gun he held in his free hand, making me gasp, “Seonghwa, who are you—”

“I can keep you safe.” He cut me off once again, tilting my head back by my chin, our gazes meeting, “You and Arin, I can keep the both of you safe, never to worry about anything again. I can give you luxuries, vacations, anything the two of you want. Good schools, high education for Arin, whatever she’ll want in the future. I’ll give you all of that in exchange for a little something.”

I gulped, throat dry as my heart hammered against my ribcage furiously, my skin cold from the chilly air but from the lack of the adrenaline too, “What?”

My voice sounded small and afraid, but Seonghwa just smiled gently again, closing his eyes as he inhaled slowly, “Move in with me.”

“Wha-what?!” I yelped, trying to yank my head out of Seonghwa’s grip, but he held me firmly. Suddenly, he started leaning closer, making me shrink back as I was afraid he’d point the gun at me if I didn’t do what he asked of me.

“I’ve grown fond of you and Arin; I want to keep you safe.” Seonghwa explained, making my mind a jumbled mess of questions, confusion, and fright, “Did you know the father of your child has hired a detective to follow you two around? He wants to take Arin away.”

“What?!” I screwed my eyes tightly shut, head thumping from Seonghwa’s confusing words, he wasn’t making sense, “He hasn’t even been in her life, why now?”

“For money, of course.” Seonghwa sighed, tone growing colder, and I opened my eyes to find him sneering at the wall behind me, “He’s not a good man, Arin can’t fall into his hands—”

“And she won’t!” I exclaimed, gripping the collar of his leather jacket rather desperately, “How do you know all of this?!”

“I’m Park Seonghwa,” Seonghwa answered with a humoured chuckled, gripping my wrists as he removed my grip gently from his collar, “son of the chairman of Park Enterprises. You do know my family owns every nightclub in the high end of the city, right?”

I nodded, shocked to find out he was the son of the powerful Park Senior. I gulped, suddenly mulling over his words, wondering how much of it was true, “And?”

“Underground activities are much more fun than the legal ones, Y/N.” Seonghwa chuckled, bopping my nose with a gloved finger, making me flinch back, “I’m just saying…I’m the most powerful man in probably the whole country, are you sure you want to miss out on this proposal?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You’ll trust me soon enough.” He grinned, a little wicked and devilishly handsome, then leaned down and pressed a kiss against my cheek, leaving me stunned. I averted my eyes when his gaze fell on me, and accidentally looked at the dead man. Something coiled in my stomach and I had to gulp down the bile in my throat, fighting against the nausea that warned me that I would throw up as my body started shaking again, “Don’t look at him.”

Appearing in my sight, Seonghwa gently turned my head away and smiled softly again, “Deal? For Arin?”

I gulped, realizing I was crazy for what I was about to say, “Deal, for Arin.”

Seonghwa grinned and then threw his arm around my shoulder, turning me away from the dead man as he led us back onto the main street, at least eight masked men hurrying out of a black van and inside the alleyway. Seonghwa didn’t let me look back as he clicked his tongue and ushered me towards his Mercedes Benz. I steeled my nerves and reluctantly sat inside, fidgeting in the leather seat.

“I still expect us to go on that date tomorrow.” Seonghwa said once buckled up.

“Date?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him, the engine purring to life loudly.

“Did you really think it was just a casual hangout?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa chuckled and then faced ahead, pressing play on the radio, “Have you ever been to Paris, my dear?”

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

Text

Just Friends

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

Part 2

Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. reader is in late 20’s; reader is an agent for the DEA; established friendship, idiots in love lust, overprotective/slightly jealous Javi; Javi is his canon manwhore self, reader is a virgin, talks of virginity loss and her desire for no strings attached sex, a bit of pining and yearning, lots of pet names, a couple insults, friendship fluff; touching, groping, dry humping, reader gets off, Javi does not. I know, I know. I will make it up to him in part dos. this does not follow the timeline of the show accurately, Messina is in the picture, Connie is still around. reader is bilingual, no descriptions of her race or ethnicity mentioned though. *translations at the end.

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: This took me forever to edit and post because I’m scared lmao.

thank you to @cutesyscreenname for encouraging me to write this idea. I owe you cherry gansitos!

You observed your own reflection in the full length mirror in front of you and let out a curious little hum as you lifted the short, scarlet red minidress, holding it right up against the length of your body. You then held up the second dress that you had clutched in your opposite hand, a stunning, satin black midi number whose length was a lot longer than the first option, the hem of it falling down to your calves.

It appeared rather innocent, modest enough while it was still on the plastic hanger, but it fit you beautifully, just like a fucking glove. The bodice of the garment cinched at your waist and it was tightly fitted, hugging the curves of your upper body so closely that it looked and even felt like something of a second skin whenever you wore it. The billowy skirt of the dress flowed out around you, darling and sweet at first glance, however it came with a borderline dangerous slit in the side of it that stopped about two or three inches above the middle of your thigh near the hinge of your hip. It exposed the entire length of your leg whenever you walked, danced, or moved around in it—Murphy had once referred to it as the infamous femme fatale dress, telling you that it was a far, far more dangerous weapon than your gun could ever be.

You were fairly certain his remarks had something to do with the fact that you’d worn the dress on a number of different occasions while you were out on the job, going undercover in Bogotá for the US Drug Enforcement Administration.

As the only female agent on her team in Colombia and a younger, very beautiful female agent at that, Messina found herself using you to her advantage quite often these days. She would send you out all over Bogotá in that very same black dress with the hope that it would aid you in luring in members of the Medellín drug cartel in efforts to capture their leader, Pablo Escobar.

Tonight, however, you weren’t going undercover.

You were doing something much more frightening than mingling among some of Colombia’s most dangerous men.

Far, far more daunting than that.

You were going out on a date.

“I like the red dress the best,” Javier’s deep voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. He had mentioned to you earlier that day that he was going to some lounge with Murphy for a smoke and some drinks after work hours since it had been a long, draining week for him at the office; Messina had stuck him with an endless amount of tedious paperwork to do and it had just about driven him insane, but nothing a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon couldn’t fix. With the soft, Latin cumbias playing from the old stereo perched on top of the white oak dresser beside you, you had completely missed the sound of the front door opening and closing when he’d gotten home.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Javier’s dark brown eyes were fixed intently on you, a small, devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he casually leaned up against the door frame of your bedroom. Well, technically, it was actually the guest bedroom of his apartment unit that he’d let you take over several months ago. The housing department of the agency had placed you into a unit in the building across the street from his, right next door to Murphy and his wife, Connie. It had been a special arrangement requested by your diligent supervisor in an effort to make sure that no one found themselves in a compromising situation—she trusted you enough not to get any dumb ideas, but she didn’t trust Peña as far as she could throw him. It wasn’t very far.

While it had certainly been quite nice, and even kind of comforting at times to have Steve and Connie as your neighbors, you’d expressed to Javier one night over dinner at his place that you weren’t all too fond of having to live alone. Without an ounce of hesitation on his part, Javi offered to have you move into his spare bedroom that very same evening after you were both done eating, but only on the condition that Messina didn’t find out about the new living arrangement. She would wring Javier’s neck with her bare hands if knew that you two had been sharing his apartment this entire time.

Hell, she would wring yours too. And you were the favorite child of sorts. Less annoying than Murphy and certainly a lot less problematic than Peña.

She only liked you because she never had to worry about you. On or off the job.

But even though you were Messina’s number one, her star player, that would do absolutely nothing to spare you from her wrath if she ever came to find out that you were living with Javier Peña. She wasn’t a fan of just how close the two of you had become over the last several months; she’d told you herself that she much preferred it if you kept your distance from him while you were off duty. One wrong move on your part or Javi’s and it was game fucking over. Messina wouldn’t hesitate to send one of your asses packing, back home to be assigned somewhere else, somewhere far away from the other.

Pursing your lips together lightly, you turned your attention back over to the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, you lifted the red minidress up against your body once more to get another good look at it, as if you hadn’t just been staring at it for the last five minutes before he’d appeared. “I don’t know, Javi. I don’t like this one all that much to be honest. I’m not even sure why the hell I let Connie talk me into buying it in the first place. She said it was cute,” You remarked, tilting your head slightly to the side. You wrinkled your nose at the diamond cut out design in the sides of it. Whoever designed it must have not had enough money to spring for more a teensy bit more fabric. “But it’s kind of tacky. And it makes me look like a whore.”

“Mm yes, but a very beautiful whore,” Javi stated, his smirk widening as he drank in the gorgeous sight of you before him. He licked his lips, openly admiring the way you were clad in nothing but one of his shirts, his pink button up with short sleeves that you had once told him you loved so much because it was your favorite color; you’d sneakily stolen it out of his closet on laundry day a couple weeks back while all of your clothes had been in the washing machine and had never given it back to him. Not that Javier even really wanted it back at this point—his shirt looked a million times better on you than ever it did on him. Seeing you in it did inexplicable things to him and he fucking loved it when you padded around your now shared apartment in nothing but a pair of panties and his pink shirt. He took another glimpse at you, nearly foaming at the mouth at how it fit your frame, how the hem of it fell to the tops of your smooth thighs, the material hardly doing anything to cover up the tantalizing curves of your hips and your perfect ass. “Hermosura. The most beautiful whore in all of Colombia.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mirror, wishing you had a free hand you could flip him off with. “Gee, thanks for the compliment, Peña. You are always such a fucking charmer, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on. Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. I’m just messing around with you. You know I don’t think you actually look like a whore—and trust me, I know what a whore looks like,” he responded with a deep and hearty laugh. He uncrossed his arms, allowing them to fall down to his sides as he pushed himself away from the door frame. He sauntered his way further into your bedroom, uninvited. “I’m being serious about the dress, though. Go with the red one. El vestido rojo. It’s perfect. Besides, that color would look gorgeous on you, cariño. I bet it would look almost as good on you as pink does.” He laughed again as he added, “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Your annoyed expression immediately softened into one of guilt. “I’ve been meaning to give you your shirt back,” You told him, sheepishly. “Te lo juro, Javi.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have,” Javier snorted, waving off the little white lie. He finally forced himself to tear his attention away from you and glanced around, observing the current state of your room instead. It looked like a tornado had hit the inside of your closet; dresses, jackets, and high heeled shoes were strewn all over the place. He wasn’t all too surprised by the mess. He knew you like he knew the back of his own hand by now, and this was typical of you when you were searching for the perfect outfit to wear on a free night out in the city. “I don’t remember you telling me you had any plans tonight, bonita. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with the chismosas of the office? Or are you going out for a girl’s night with Connie?”

You momentarily hesitated.

“Actually, I have a date.”

Through the mirror, you saw the smile fade from Javier’s face almost instantly.

Here we go, You thought inwardly to yourself.

“You have a date? With who?” he demanded.

Reluctantly, you turned around to face him. “You know Valeria, don’t you?”

The color drained from his face.

“That’s the translator who works up on the third floor, right?” He touched his hand to the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around a couple of times.”

You almost laughed at the manner in which Javier tried playing dumb.

Of course he knew Valeria.

He had fucked her three weeks ago.

Javi had tried to keep it on the down low, but loud mouthed Valeria would brag to anyone who would listen all about how Agent Peña had fucked her in her office one evening while they’d been working late together and everyone else had gone home. Not that Javier even needed her services as a translator, he’d just needed an excuse to find himself in her office after hours so he could get his dick wet.

For some strange reason, you felt oddly fucking generous and decided to let Javier have this one, playing along with him and his sheer stupidity. “Yeah, her. She has an older brother who’s visiting the city for a few days. His name is Diego. He’s an immigration attorney who is here on business in Bogotá. She offered to set me up with him,” You explained, keeping everything as brief as possible. “I’m meeting him for drinks tonight.”

Javier frowned. “Have you met him in person?”

“Well no, but Valeria showed me his picture and she told me all about him. It’s not like he’s just some random ass guy I met on the street, Javi. He’s her brother, she advocated for him,” You tried to reason with him, knowing all too well where this conversation was heading. Sure, it was nice to know that Javier cared about you enough to be concerned about you meeting up with someone who was essentially a complete stranger, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself. You’d spent many evenings sitting right in the laps of the violent criminals who worked for Escobar—a blind date with a coworker’s brother was nothing for him to make a fuss over. “I really don’t think that I have anything to worry about with him.”

He rigidly shook his head. “Look, no offense to Valeria, but I don’t like the idea of you running around this city at night with some fucking prick that you’ve never even met before. And before you throw all that undercover bullshit at me, just know that it’s not the same thing. You aren’t going out on the job tonight. You’re not going out with your team on standby to watch your back, you’re not going out with me and Murphy armed and ready to jump into action if things head south. What if something happens to you?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the complete and utter ridiculousness of his drama king antics. “Oh, give me a fucking break, Peña. Diego’s not a member of the fucking cartel, he’s a lawyer. And besides that, you’re acting like I can’t take care of myself.”

“Listen, I know damn good and well that you can take care of yourself just fine, muñeca. But still, that doesn’t make me feel any better about this whole arrangement.” Javier’s hands went to his waist and he let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head once again. “I’m going to need to meet this guy before you go out with him. I don’t care whose fucking brother he is—whichever way you try to spin it, the bottom line is that he’s a still a fucking stranger and I want to check him out for myself before I let you go out with him.” He saw the mischievous twinkle in your eyes and peered at you suspiciously. “Please tell me he’s coming to pick you up here at the apartment.”

You laughed. “Of course not, Javi. I’m not stupid. I already knew you would behave like this. I knew you would go straight into overprotective mode, just like you always do. I didn’t want you scaring him off, so I’m taking a taxi cab and we’re meeting up at the bar instead.” You easily clocked the all too familiar glint in his eye and smiled sweetly at him. “And don’t even think about trying to guess which one it is so that you can show up and keep tabs on me the whole night. There are thousands of bars in this damn city and I can promise you that you’re not smart enough to figure out which one we’re going to, Agent Peña.”

Annoyed by the smugness in your tone and the way it was starting to get under his skin, Javier’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He watched you walk over to your closet, subtly swaying your hips to the music as you pulled out yet another dress to add to your rapidly growing list of options.

He could feel the envy prickling at each and every last single nerve ending in his entire body, his frustrations stewing at the mere thought of you going out with another man. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to shove the feeling down knowing damn well that he didn’t have the right to be jealous. Not when you two weren’t anything more than just friends.

If you’d just been a coworker, it would be different.

Javier would gladly, happily, risk mixing business with pleasure as he had so often done in the past with several secretaries—and a translator or two—in his time. But no matter how hard he’d tried over and over again to place you into that box, into that category, he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

You weren’t just his coworker, you were his friend.

His best friend.

For as much shit as he gave you, you mattered to him. You were important to him, way too important to ever risk fucking up your friendship by fucking you.

Still. Javier would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. He thought about it all the damn time. When he discovered that fucking himself into the palm of his hand and moaning your name quietly over and over again under his breath didn’t quite do the job for him anymore, he would find himself standing outside of your bedroom prepared to say fuck it all and make his move on you. But then it happened every single fucking time without fail—as soon as he lifted his curled fist to knock on your door, he started to remember things.

He’d remember the way you could so easily make him laugh with your clever and quick witted sense of humor. He remembered all those late nights you two would spend together lounging on his brown leather couch in your pajamas watching old, poorly made slasher films while indulging in the greasiest, unhealthiest takeout Bogotá had to offer. He remembered how you could read him just like a fucking magazine, how you always knew when something was wrong—and how you would always somehow know exactly what to say and do to comfort him whenever he needed it the most.

He would remember how you’d come to feel like his home away from home.

And then he would drop his hand right back down to his side, whirl around on his heel, and march straight back into his bedroom where he had little choice but to go back to fantasizing about what could never be between you and him.

Snapping himself out of his own train of thought, Javier carefully stepped over the mountains of clothing and shoes on the floor and made his way over to another pile of dresses that were draped over the foot of your bed. He caught a glimpse of the lingerie set on top of them, brand new with the price tag still attached to the fabric; the set was black, made of delicate, see through lace that would leave very little to the imagination when you put it on. He picked up the thong, hooking the thin elastic of it around his index finger. “Something tells me that you’re not planning on coming back home tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Confused, you turned around and gasped, dropping the dresses in your hands. “Javier!”

“Are these even going to cover anything up?” he teased you with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with pure amusement as they darted between the thong and the lower half of your body. “Falta mucha tela, cariño.”

You rushed up to him and made a dive for the underwear. “Give me those!”

“How come you don’t ever wear anything like this around the apartment, hermosa?” Javi dangled them above your head and out of your reach. “All I ever get to see you in are those cotton panties, the ones with polka dots on them.” He glanced down, getting an eyeful of you and the aforementioned polka dot panties. “Kind of like the ones you’re wearing now—”

“Javier, cut it out!” You placed a hand on his shoulder as the other continued grabbing for the lingerie. “Come on, stop being such a fucking asshole!”

Although he could have easily enjoyed taunting you for hours and hours on end, Javier knew you wouldn’t hesitate to have your knee meet his balls. Not wanting to risk ending up on your floor curled up in pain, he eased up and handed them over to you.

“Idiota!” You hissed at him, furiously snatching the underwear out of his hand. You stomped over to your dresser and shoved them into the middle drawer, slamming it closed so hard the old stereo nearly went crashing to the floor. “You can be a real fucking douchebag, Peña.”

Javier wasn’t bothered by the insults; he’d grown used to those—however any trace of playfulness vanished as the reality began to set in for him. The reality of you sleeping with another a man tonight. “Wait a minute, are you really planning to fuck the guy?” He didn’t even make the attempt to mask the disappointment that laced his tone. “I mean, you haven’t even met him yet. I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, querida.”

“You sound awful judgmental for someone who brings home a different escort every other fucking week,” You snapped at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh, and speaking of escorts, I had the pleasure of meeting Alessandra in the bathroom this morning. She asked if I had a tank top that she could borrow since apparently you got too eager and ripped her shirt off last night.” You tilted your head, squinting at him as he started shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “If you happen to go back to her for a second round, tell her that I want it back. Washed.”

Javier grimaced, looking down at the floor. “Shit. I thought she would be gone by the time you woke up,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Lo siento, bonita. I’m sorry.”

You blinked. “Sorry for what?”

He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

Javier wasn’t all too sure, actually.

He didn’t have anything to apologize for, not really.

He was a single man who could do as, and who, he pleased.

Yet he still felt like a pile of dog shit knowing you’d encountered Alessandra while he had still been asleep.

You would never admit it, but Javier knew that to some extent, it hurt you to run into the women he would bring home. As if having to hear him railing them on the other side of your bedroom wall for hours wasn’t bad enough, having to meet them the following morning and seeing them half naked with their smeared makeup and disheveled hair from the previous night’s activities only made it so much fucking worse.

Having read his mind, you sighed and offered him some reassurance. “It’s fine, Javi. We both know that you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” You said, prompting him to look back up at you. You pointed a finger at him. “I do want my shirt back, though. And then maybe I’ll be nice and give you back yours.”

You expected Javi to scamper off to his room with his tail between his legs in shame. It was what he usually did—he’d avoid you for about a few hours until the dust settled, and then everything would go back to normal. Instead of running off, he stood there and spoke again.

“Are you really going to have sex with this guy?”

You tried to ignore how disheartened he sounded.

“I don’t know,” You confessed, quietly. “I want to have sex with him, but I don’t know if I’ll actually have the fucking balls to go through with it.”

“Por qué? Estas nerviosa?”

Though Javier hadn’t been poking fun at you, you couldn’t help but feel irritated with him for asking you if you were nervous; because you actually were nervous, and him asking you only made you even more fucking nervous. “And so what if I am a little nervous?” You challenged him, lightly. “Sorry that we’re not all just confidently fucking our way through this city like you are, Peña.”

“When’s the last time you had sex, anyway?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s when,” You quipped.

“That’s not fair.” Javi pouted at you. “You know when the last time I had sex was.”

“Not by choice,” You retorted. “You’re right on the other side of my paper thin wall and I left my Walkman in the office.”

Javi waited expectantly for an answer. He wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you knew that.

“You’re such a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” You muttered. Feeling a burning heat flood to your face, you decided to give him just about the most generic answer there was in order to get him off your back. “It was a long, long time ago.”

“Okay, but how long ago?” He pressed, curiously. “Are we talking weeks? Months?”

Your stomach began to churn violently, the hidden secret you’d kept to yourself for your entire adult life now at risk of being exposed.

“I-I really don’t remember,” You stammered out in response, averting your gaze away from his. “Can we not talk about my sex life, please? Besides, it’s getting late and I still need to take a shower and get ready for my date tonight. So if you would just kindly fuck all the way off, that would be great.”

Javier took a step back and there was a very brief moment where you had been certain you’d just narrowly avoided what could have been a painful, humiliating conversation. However, just as he was about to turn to leave, Javi’s eyes widened as it slowly clicked into place for him.

“Wait a minute—are you fucking serious?”

You groaned. “Javier, please don’t. For the sake of what’s left of my sanity, please don’t,” You nearly pleaded him, wishing that a large, Twilight Zone style swirling vortex would open up in the middle of your floor and swallow you whole.

“You’ve never had sex before,” he realized. “Have you?”

Your face felt like it had caught on fire.

Not knowing what to say or even do, you clasped your hands together and wrung them anxiously in front of you.

Of all the people to find out your secret, it just had to be Peña.

“Cariño, are you really a virgin?”

Surprised, you looked up at him.

Javi wasn’t teasing you or being a dick about it.

He seemed genuinely perplexed by the fact that you’d never had sex before. Not that it made it any less mortifying.

“Yes,” You admitted, exhaling the breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in. “I’m a virgin, alright? There, are you satisfied?”

“But how? Going undercover? And informants—”

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I know this might come as a shock to you, but you don’t always have to fuck your informants to get what you need out of them, Peña. It’s not a requirement. I use my brains, not my body.”

“You’re shaming me for using my body?” he joked lightly, hoping it would further ease the awkward nature of the conversation—for your sake, not his.

“Just a little bit.” You offered him a small, crooked smile and felt your tense shoulders finally begin to relax. “You’re probably going to think it’s stupid or maybe even crazy, but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to wait and give it to the right man. Maybe even to a man that I’m in love with. But with the way my romantic life has been going, it just seems like that’s never going to happen for me.” You shrugged. “I just want to lose it already, Javi. I’m almost in my fucking thirties—either I lose it now, or I may as well throw in the damn towel and join a convent.”

“You would look kind of cute in a nun’s habit,” Javi mused, thoughtfully.

You shot him a glare, but felt the corners of your mouth threatening to turn up into another smile.

After a long minute, Javier broke the silence that had fallen over the both of you. “So then, Valeria’s older brother is the man you’re going to lose your virginity to? Tonight?”

“That’s the plan. He’s only here until the end of the week. It’d be no strings attached, so it works out perfectly.” You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But only if I can find the courage to actually go through with it.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Not knowing what to do.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly rocket science, querida.”

You resisted the sudden urge to go up to him and backhand the stupid smirk right off of his face.

“Could you please just take me seriously for one second, Peña?” You huffed out in frustration. “I’m just really fucking nervous about it, alright? What if I can’t—what if I’m not good at it?”

Javi’s bottom lip rolled between his teeth and he stifled his laughter. “Preciosa, you’re being kind of…” He trailed off, trying to choose his next word carefully.

You lifted your chin. “Kind of what?”

“Ridiculous. And before you come over here and start pummeling me to death with those little fists of yours...” He stopped and held up his hands in defense. He took a second or two to let eyes glaze over you from head to toe. “I’m only saying that because you’re fucking gorgeous, muñequita. Any man would be lucky to have a night with you. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s not about how I look, Javier. It’s about how I perform.” You felt your face grow hot for what had to be the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. Never did you think this would be a conversation you’d be having with him of all fucking people. “I listen to the way those women you bring home—I hear what they do to you. And I hear how much you like it.”

His lips parted slightly. “And you want to do that to him?”

“I want to make him feel good.”

Javier’s jealously simmered in his veins. But what could he do?

Nothing, that’s what. Just like him, you could do as, and who, you pleased. But if he could just get his hands on you first, at least to some extent, it would help ease the blow. He saw nothing wrong with blurring the lines, so long as he didn’t cross them.

Javi hummed. “If you really want to know how to make a man feel good, I can help you.”

“You can help me?” You repeated. “How?”

“By showing you a thing or two.”

You let out something mixed between a scoff and a laugh.

“I am not having sex with you, Peña.”

He tossed you an innocent look. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all.” He crossed the bedroom and walked over to you, reaching for your hands. He took them in his own and then started pulling you towards your bed. “If you’re really that worried about not knowing what to do, I can give you a few pointers. And calmada, querida. Our clothes stay on,” he reassured you before you could open your mouth to protest. “Just think of it as a friend helping out a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

You chewed on your lower lip. “I don’t know about this, Javi.”

Javier’s thumbs softly smoothed across the back of your hands. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Right now, I’m not so sure that I do.” You paused long enough for him to throw you an exasperated, almost offended look. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded your head. “Yes, of course I trust you, Peña. I trust you with my fucking life. Literally, I put my life in your hands at least once or twice a week.”

“Then let me help you, hermosa.”

You inhaled a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it softly. “Fine. But remember, our clothes stay on—” You were cut off, all the air leaving your lungs as Javi yanked you forward, slamming you against his chest. You looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of your mind for knocking the wind out of you, but as his eyes met yours, words failed you and all you could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

This could not possibly end well.

And yet here you were, going along with it.

He snaked an arm around your waist, holding your body flush against his. Feeling how tense you had become, stiff as a fucking board, Javi gave you a light shake in an effort to get you to loosen up a bit. “First thing is first, you need to relax. There’s no need to overthink this, cariño. Especially not with me.” He reached up with his opposite hand, letting his index finger feather along your jawline. He then slipped it underneath your chin, lifting it ever so slightly and forcing you to look right into his rich pools of espresso. “I mean it. It really wouldn’t take much for a beautiful girl like you to drive me—I mean, drive him wild.”

You tried your hardest to keep your voice from trembling, but between his touch and being in such close proximity, you were finding it a hell of a lot more difficult than you’d imagined. “Show me, Peña. What drives you—I mean, what’s going to drive him wild?”

“Well, it always starts with the right kiss.”

You quickly shook your head. “Javi—”

“Kiss me.”

Had he lost his fucking mind?

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” You echoed your thoughts

“Just a friend helping out a friend,” Javi reminded you in a murmur. “Remember?”

You should have said no. You should have decked him for even suggesting such a thing.

Instead, you gave him a small nod. You rested your hands delicately on his hard, lean chest and tilted your head upwards, lightly pressing your lips to his for a split second before quickly pulling away.

“There.”

“That was fucking pathetic,” Javier laughed softly, his warm breath fanning over the tip of your nose. “You’re not kissing your abuela, you know.”

You smacked his chest. “Javi! Leave my grandma out of this.”

“You have to kiss a man like you actually want him, querida. Here, allow me to demonstrate.”

Your throat went dry as his grip around your waist tightened. He moved his other hand away from your chin and it went to the back of your neck, gingerly tilting your head up towards his. Your heart hammered almost painfully against your ribcage, beating way too hard and way too fast for him not to feel it against his own chest. You had to silently remind yourself to breathe as Javi inched his face closer to yours, slowly. You knew that he was doing it on purpose, moving an agonizingly glacial pace to allow your anticipation to build; all the while his dark eyes were staring deeply into the depths of your very fucking soul, causing a fire to set ablaze deep in your lower belly.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily as the tip of his nose skimmed a spot near the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing the underside of your jawline.

God, he was fucking good.

“Javi…” You uttered his name weakly.

You needed to stop this. Javier was your friend—friends didn’t do shit like this.

Javi sensed your reluctance. “It’s alright, mi vida,” he whispered, uttering an affectionate pet name that he’d never used before. He gave you a small grin as he moved in to finally close the small gap of space between your faces. His lips met yours and every ridiculous cliché of sparks flying and fireworks exploding occurred the moment they did. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, gently coaxing its way into your mouth to begin a slow, sensual dance with yours. Cupping the back of your neck, he tilted your head up a bit further, granting himself better access to your mouth so that he could fully explore it inch by inch.

There was kissing other men.

And then there was kissing Javier.

Whimpering, your body melted against his as he swelled your lips with a kiss that was slow and sensual, yet somehow still hungry and possessive at the same time. Javier’s hands travelled down to your hips, his fingers skimming the hem of his shirt that you wore. He took the opportunity to sneak them underneath the garment, allowing them to meet the warmth of your skin.

Gasping, you jerked back and pulled away from him.

“Javier!” You squeaked out his name breathlessly, furiously swatting his hands away from your sides. You glared at him. “I thought we agreed, our clothes fucking stay on!”

“Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was taking any of your clothes off.” Javier reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. He then took a step backwards and gestured towards your bed. “Lay down.”

Your mouth fell open at his request.

“W-what?” You sputtered out, your eyes wide.

“You heard me. Get on the bed and lay down.”

Javi reached down, sweeping your pile of dresses off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Why? What are you going to do?” You questioned him, shuffling anxiously from one bare foot to the other.

Javier rolled his eyes and let out a small, impatient sigh. “Just do it, hermosa. You can trust me.”

Swallowing harshly, you obeyed him and walked around to the side of your bed, taking a seat. You inhaled another deep breath before bringing your legs up and laying back, your head resting against your decorative pillows. You nervously tugged and pulled at the hem of his stolen pink shirt, trying to cover yourself up as best as you could as you laid there, sprawled out before him; however Javier had other plans. He climbed onto the bed after you, positioning his body so it hovered over yours. He nudged your legs apart with his knee, settling himself right in between your thighs. He grabbed one of your legs and hiked it up around his waist, putting the two of you in a very, very dangerous position. His fingers remained wrapped around your thigh, his touch burning right into your soft flesh as he held your leg in place around him.

“Don’t be shy, muñequita.” His voice had gone low and husky. He trailed his hand further up your thigh.

He grinned, feeling satisfied with himself when he felt the goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Shut up, I’m not shy,” You fibbed, prompting him to chuckle.

“Mentirosa.” Javi’s hand abandoned your leg and he brought his hand up to the side of your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip.

“Kiss me,” he commanded, gently. “And this time, kiss me like you mean it.”

You reached up for him with trembling hands and grabbed two fistfuls of his pewter blue, button up shirt. You pulled him down towards you and lifted yourself up slightly off your pillows, crashing your mouth against his. You allowed yourself to finally release any fears that you might have had before and kissed him greedily and with fervor, as if it would be the very last time you’d ever get to kiss Javier Peña—because it very well could be the last time you would ever get to kiss Javier Peña.

You kissed him deeply, going on until your lungs began to burn—you only broke away from him once they started screaming, demanding oxygen.

Tearing yourself apart from him, you released his shirt and dropped back down onto your pillows, breathlessly asking, “Better?”

“Oh, so much better. Good girl, mi muñequita linda,” he praised, grinning again as he caressed the silkiness of your cheek. He lowered his head and lips ghosted over yours for a moment before he moved them down your neck, feathering kisses to any exposed skin peeking out from underneath his shirt. His hand found your breast and he groaned realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. He kneaded the perfect, soft mound of flesh through the thin fabric, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. He bucked his hips into yours, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips the second you felt his hardened cock through his tight, light blue jeans. He caught sight of the way you blushed at the sound that he’d elicited from you and his grin widened. “Noises like that? The louder the better. So don’t hold back, preciosa.”

“What else can I do to make you—to make him feel good?”

Javier dipped his face right into the hollow of your neck, thinking it over for a moment. “A woman who takes control can be very sexy. I like it—I bet he’ll like it if you get on top.”

“I think I can do that.” Biting your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him back, sliding yourself out from underneath him. You guided him to lay back onto your pillows and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist.

Shit. Javier cursed inwardly.

Maybe he’d been in over his head with this idea.

He knew at some point he’d have to stop it from going too far—but would he be able to?

“How do you like it?” You asked him, shyly. This time, you hadn’t bothered to correct yourself.

You didn’t want to know how to please another man.

You wanted to know how to please Javi.

Even if you’d never get the chance to do it.

“Depends on the mood,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders in the most nonchalant manner that he could muster under the circumstances—as if his cock wasn’t rock hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans and begging to be inside you.

“Te gusta despacito?” You start to rock your hips back and forth against his, slowly. “Do you like it slow?”

Javier’s breath hitched in the back his throat. At this point, there was no doubt about it—you could feel him underneath you, throbbing. “Sometimes,” he managed to choke out in reply. “Like I said. Just depends on the mood.”

“Or what about like this?” You grinned down at him, gaining a sense of confidence as you started to move faster on top of him, finding your perfect rhythm. You could see and clearly feel what you were doing to him. Knowing that you were having this kind of effect on Peña was nothing short of a fucking dream come true.

His hands went to your hips, holding on as you picked up the pace, grinding your clothed core down against his bulge.

You could feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking your panties; you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d leave behind a wet spot on his jeans. “How am I doing?”

“Fucking amazing, muñeca,” he answered, earnestly. His long, thick fingers dug into your sides as he suggested, “It helps if you put on a little show while you’re up there, too.” He then pictured you in that sexy black lingerie set you’d bought; he imagined what it would be like to slip that tiny little thong to the side so you could freely ride his cock. The mere thought had him seeing stars.

“A show, huh?” You smirked and popped the top two buttons of your shirt—his shirt—exposing the smooth valley between your breasts to him. “I think I can do that too,” You giggled, pulling the fabric to the side, just enough to give him the tiniest glimpse of the soft curves of your chest but not enough to expose yourself completely.

“Hermosa,” he couldn’t help but groan out. It took every ounce of strength he had inside him not to reach up and tear his shirt right off of you so he could see all of you.

You grabbed his hands from your hips and slowly began guiding them all around your body. You started by placing them on your breasts, giving him permission to cop another feel before moving them slowly down the lengths of your sides and placing them on your bare thighs. From there, you picked up Javi’s hands once more and placed them behind you, allowing him to take two generous handfuls of your ass. Your hands then abandoned his and you placed them on his chest, supporting yourself as you continued to roll your hips against his, riding him through his jeans. You tossed your head back and closed your eyes; the friction of your clit against his pelvis even through all the clothes felt like absolute heaven, and you let out a lustful moan that bounced off of your bedroom walls as you continued to drive your hips harder against his own.

Realizing that this was no longer a lesson and you were actually pleasuring yourself, Javier groaned again. He moved his hands back to your hips and found himself bucking his own hips upwards to meet you halfway—he abandoned any and all worries about taking it too far. He wanted you to come.

He needed to see you come.

“Javi,” You gasped his name, moaning again.

“That’s it, muñeca,” he rasped out. “Just like that, baby. Keep going. What a good girl, what a good fucking girl.”

Any and all common sense had been washed away by pleasure and by your need to reach that sweet, sweet release.

It was so close. You felt him right there, right between your clothed folds, and all you could do was imagine what it would be like to have his cock fill you up and stretch you completely.

His name began to slip from your lips, rolling off of your tongue over and over again with such ease.

Your movements fell in perfect sync with his.

You went down, he went up.

You pulled, he pushed.

No doubt about it, Javier was trying to get you off.

Somehow, you find a voice that speaks in between all your pitiful little pants.

“J-Javi, maybe we s-shouldn’t—”

Javier quickly sat up and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. He slammed your mouths together, silencing you mid sentence. He thrusted upwards, and you whined into his kiss, rubbing your clit against his bulge even harder.

The beginning of your orgasm coiled up tightly in your belly, and you knew it would spring forward any second now.

“Javi, I’m so close—”

“It’s okay, hermosa. Come for me,” he mumbled into your mouth. “I’ve got you.”

Your arms found their way around his shoulders and you buried your face into his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, your loud cries came out muffled against his collarbone as you unraveled, coming undone with one last cry of his name.

You slumped forward, resting your head on his shoulder as you fought to catch your breath, the pleasure still pulsing between your thighs.

Javier’s other arm curled around you and he said nothing as he held you.

Once you’d finally started coming down from your high, your eyes flew open and a chill went up the length of your spine.

What had you two just done?

Still straddling his lap, you pulled back. “Javi—”

Without warning, Javier flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him once again. He hovered over you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he dipped his head and captured your lips with his one final, deep and sensual kiss.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about tonight,” he murmured once he had pulled away. “You’re fucking perfect, mi vida.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours before climbing off of you.

“I fucking hope this guy realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is,” Javier said quietly before turning on the heel of his boot and walking out of your bedroom, leaving you laying there with your mouth parted open in complete shock.

Translations

Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. - It’s just a little joke, doll. No need to get offended.

El vestido rojo. - The red dress.

Te lo juro, Javi. - I swear to you, Javi.

Chismosas - Gossipers

Falta mucha tela, cariño. - There is a lot of fabric missing, darling.

Mentirosa. - Liar.

Te gusta despacito? - Do you like it a little slow?

#javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña angst #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier peña smut #narcos smut #javier pena smut

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 5 months ago

Text

A DC X DP IDEA # 35

Who will he be tonight? that’s the question.

Imagine dis…

It's been a while since I last posted here and even though I am late on the trend the song would not leave my head ( due to my gremlin of siblings) and you are now here to suffer with me.

MWAHAHAHAHA

…

Bruce was stressed, not because of his nightly duties nor his exhausting job as the CEO of Wayne enterprise. He got his license to foster children by the skin of his teeth through legal channels, he was so close as to use his privileges as the richest man in Gotham to get his license also to be able to foster Richard “Dick” Grayson.

Apparently despite his playboy persona aka “Brucie Wayne” just entering its social debut almost made him almost impossible to foster Dick as the social worker that had been assigned to him is also one of the few social workers in Gotham that takes their job seriously.

Bruce knew that his budding playboy persona, the carefree “BRUCIE Wayne” should be buried, he could replace this mask of his with his philanthropist self but he couldn’t just immediately change it would and will raise whispers on why, but what could be the reason?

Just as he continued scheming a knock broke his train of thoughts and entered Danny Nightgale, the calm and efficient secretary who had worked before with Lucius Fox ever since he had been hired. Danny, from Bruce’s file on him, son of two leading ecto-biologists in the world, a quiet kid who grew up in a city from nowhere, had a bad accident that left him with a slow heartbeat, discovered that one of the last two purple back gorilla is female and thus avoiding total extinction. Doesn’t have much media presence due to their hometown being the home of the former ghost hero Phantom who had vanished the moment that the anti-ecto acts had been re-appealed…

…

Bruce approached Danny with a pitch and handed him a nicely drafted contract. The agreement was straightforward: pretend to be Bruce's adoring partner in public. It was the only way to change the public's opinion, to show the world a stable, dependable, responsible Bruce Wayne who was ready to be a foster and maybe a father.

…

As years went by this arrangement had been beneficial to both parties.

Danny now saves more money, and despite having one of the highest salaries being paid all went to his rent to the nicer parts of Gotham. It had so many insurances as well security measures to ensure the tenants are safe, but the downside having most of his paycheck going to the rent itself. Now he has a permanent house that is large and free food that is made by the greatest cook that ever existed.

Bruce is less embarrassed about putting on a show for the public, he seems to take on the air-head mask whenever his supposed “lover” is around and near him, turning him into a bumbling mess whenever the “love of his life” is around him. He also secretly took great pleasure whenever those annoying journalists asked nonsense questions which he answered in his most obnoxious voice spiel away how world peace is attainable if all just gave their own Danny’s.

…

Each generation of Batkids saw how Bruce had a crush on Danny yet kept fumbling himself and reminding himself that all of this was just part of the contract. Sure each kid knew of said contract that was made for Dick’s sake but said the reason for said contract wanted to rip that thing ages ago and into pieces the moment he wanted to call Danny Dad.

Though each child that resides in that manor noticed some inconsistency within Danny’s schedules, not only that they have just recently discovered that while Danny loves to chat there are still personal things that he hadn't delved into aside from the information that was already in his files. Of course, there is also his weird avoidance of the vigilante group of Gotham, especially Batman, despite being proven to the public both in and out of Gotham that Batman is trustworthy, Danny still held wariness to said vigilante.

You’d think that after years of exposure around the Wayne’s Danny would have already discovered the cave all on his own. But it seems that every time are inches away discovering their secret an emergency or urgent priority was flaring from the Wayne enterprise that only he was needed to solve the said problem.

After weeks of Tim’s continuous intake of a very worrying amount of pure caffeine, espresso shots, and 10 different brands of energy drinks they have finally connected the dots.

Danny is a secret FBI agent planted in Gotham to catch Batman and his group in the act of breaking the law and to disband the whole spiel about being a hero and vigilante. Sure the JL and the sudden rise of heroes and vigilantes that popped up around the world that are not government affiliated made those who sat at those red velvet chairs nervous as they don’t have any active say or word as to what crimes to focus on and so on. There are reasons why Amanda Waller is still in power and still allowed to roam free with funds after funds to continue her work despite being continuously caught by the JL.

Now it is up to them to change Danny’s mind and abandon his mission so that they can finally stop seeing Bruce act like that “Brucie” persona, that they thanked the gods had been immediately vetoed, towards Danny.

…

Alfred sits down in one of the manor’s libraries with a cup of tea in one hand a book in another with another small pile on the side with a teapot ready to refill himself another cup.

He sighs at the drama that seems to unfold to his eyes only.

Ever since Master Danny had been integrated into this household he had found more free time than he could ever imagine. The young man would always find ways to outpace Alfred when it comes to housework to the point it had become their little game to this day. As much as he supports his ward/son, Master Bruce needs to gather all emotional intelligence he has left and confess to Master Danny.

But that wasn’t the live soap opera that it seemed to unravel.

His grandkids are set and believe that Master Danny is a secret agent who is here due to a mission related to the vigilante group stationed in Gotham.

Alfred adores all of them, he did but sometimes he wonders if the title World’s Greatest Detective is to be added to his arsenal of titles.

Alfred knew that Master Danny wasn’t just an ordinary secretary but he was also the Ghost King of the Infinite Realms, how did he know of this?

He simply walked in on Danny changing from his human self to that otherworldly creature that looked too regal to be a normal being, and so clues that were the littlest of things that he had always chalked up to the angle of the light seemed to begin clicking in place.

Alfred was a bit miffed when he learned that Master Danny might have been cheating when it came to their little bouts of cleaning the manor but he now stayed quiet as Master Danny still didn’t know of the quote “furry brigade” unquote are the Wayne’s, and based on Master Danny’s past rants he will have his little laugh when the truth comes out, but until then he will drink his tea in peace as the drama in Wayne manor seems to unfold.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom

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hyunjinsjeans · 6 months ago

Text

He knows (Lee Know ver.)

Chan ver. | Changbin ver. | Hyunjin ver.

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: You married your best friend. You knew each other like the back of your hands. Lately, he has noticed you're holding back on him, why is that? He couldn’t know! You haven't told him, have you?

Type: Fluff 🧸, suggestive themes (sexually explicit) 🙈, female reader 💃

Warnings: sexually explicit themes, mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 2347

AN: Listen...I- had to do this. I had to do this and it had to be somewhat smutty because it's Lee Menace-to-society Know. I hope you like it because I plan to do a version for each member. I'm not sure what came over me, but I'm having a lot of fun writing these so I might as well share.

Minho was mean sometimes. He could be cold if he wanted to, but he usually saved that for whenever he was annoyed or you pushed his buttons too freely. Even as he showed you that side of himself there was always more reservation with it when it came to you. It was something the boys noticed early on in your relationship, when you had joined Hyunjin in making fun of a little sound your then-boyfriend let out at the first sip of his morning coffee. While you got a dirty look and had his nose pretty much pressed against yours as he threatened to help you quiet down, Hyunjin received a firm shoulder grab and got a handful of tissues shoved into his mouth.

This is why you felt so bewildered at his actions when you arrived at the camping site and he was extra nice.

While he usually let you do things on your own, trusting you were a fully functional individual... he did not even try to take the lead and ask you to start unloading the car. Instead, he grabbed the things from the trunk and began setting everything down near the spot you had chosen for the tent.

You pulled the zipper of your jacket up on your chin and waited for at least one simple call for help from your husband. When you realized he would not attempt to hand you any of the bags you went to the pile of stuff to start setting up the tent.

You had wondered the night before if maybe it was not the best time of the year to come out here and have a weekend away from the city, seeing as snow began painting the streets white, but you two loved camping and the serenity that being in the woods brought to you. With jobs of your own it was difficult to find the time to pack up and leave for even a day. The truth was you two didn't have much time to dedicate to your favorite hobby. Once you started setting up, you were careful not to slip on the snow around you. Minho hurried to your side once the car was unloaded, smiling at each other you handed him some of the bigger pieces of metal that formed the large frame and working together the tent was up in no time.

"Hmm, it's going to be quiet out here tonight," you told him once you started gathering the things to set up the portable stove.

Minho nodded, reaching out to hold you and stop you from moving a finger. Your husband wrapped his arms around your waist and stood behind you, his eyes closed and he sighed in relief.

He could smell the subtle coconut scent from your shampoo on your hair when he placed his chin on your shoulder. A fresh scent reminiscent of flowers emanating from your neck from your favorite perfume. The combination smelled like home to your husband.

He loved to have you all to himself, even if it was only when work allowed it. You had your own job and he tried not to stand on your way and be supportive the way you were supportive of him. As soon as he knew he would have some free time he would let you know so you two could coordinate and stay home together. Minho had felt the weight be lifted off his shoulders the first time you tagged along to an event. That was when the penny dropped for him, he was most relaxed when you were there with him. The kids told him too once they returned from the trip and it became clear you were a fundamental part of his life. There was no going back.

He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he loved to monopolize your time. As much as you would give him space to do his job and talk to his fans through lives and events, he always came home to sit next to you and put his head in your lap while the cats cuddled around the two. He liked cooking for you at night whenever he was home first, and if you made dinner it was a done deal that he would do the dishes while you helped him dry them and put them away while telling him all the latest office gossip. To Lee Know you were home.

So yes, he was guilty of being selfish when it came to sharing you, he knew that. He was the jealous type, the only forgiveness he had was for his members and your families.

He was aware he would have to share you someday, he let his nose rub against your neck as he thought about it.

"I'm not so sure about that..." he snuck his hands to your sides and as his chin rested on your shoulder he tickled you.

Your laughter filled the air in a moment and you struggled to regain composure in his grasp while all he did was smirk against your skin.

"Minho! Please!" You reached for his hands and grabbed them, his relenting movements allowing it.

If he had to share you with anyone, who better than your own children?

"Oh, you love it…" He watched how you intertwined your hands with his, making him hold you again, and now you pressed your back to his chest. "comfortable?"

You nodded with a childish hint of joy in your eyes.

"It's been so long since we came out here," you pointed out. "when was the last time we went camping?"

Minho put his chin on top of your head, "before the wedding."

You hummed.

It had been more than a year then, you sighed and pulled away to go find the bags with the things to make dinner. Minho all but ran to get the heavier things out of your hands, mumbling an "I got it" before he started setting up. You helped him with as much patience as you could gather, then once the two of you began prepping the ingredients for a quick ramyon you laughed talking to each other about the going on's at work.

He liked to hear everything from you, you could recite a weather report and he would be mesmerized. And you loved to hear him too, always waiting for him to be ready to speak, he was eloquent in great part because he was honest, although sometimes he could sound mean if he spoke too quickly.

Either of you was the kind to beat around the bushes, which is why he had been so curious the last couple of days.

As the group finished preparing for their upcoming comeback, Lee Know realized you were acting weird... He saw the little envelope on the coffee table just a few days ago. It was some test you had done at the doctor's office, and he did not mean to snoop. It was lying there, in plain sight, and he did not think much of it as he pulled the papers out and read through them. At first, he thought he was not able to understand its contents, then he saw the doctor's handwriting and the quite specific instructions at the bottom of the last page.

Why didn't he ask? It had something to do with the way you hid the envelope as soon as you had a chance. And the fact that you never mentioned your visit to the doctor, or that you had blood drawn. Your husband wasn't happy you were hiding things from him, but he respected your privacy. So he told himself he would give you time to bring it up on your own.

By the time you were done eating dinner, he considered enough time had passed and you had said nothing.

You cleaned up while singing a silly version of one of your favorite songs. Lee Know kept his voice down to enjoy your playful and chaotic performance, it brought a big smile to his face watching you dance around the small camp.

The two of you decided to call it a night and get into your warm tent. Your husband let you get under the covers first and then crawled beside you, pulling you against his side. You made sure the fluffy blanket covered him well while you put your head on his shoulder, your left leg perched over his waist.

“Y/N?” He whispered.

He did not want to sound harsh, on the contrary; he wanted to be smooth as he eased into the topic.

You brought your left hand over his stomach. "Hm?"

Minho was staring at you with a side smirk on his face, one that made it seem like he knew something you did not. And he kind of did this time.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" He squeezed your thigh and you nodded in response, swallowing.

"You can tell me anything too," you reassured him.

Cute, he thought. It wasn't him who had something to say.

He brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek while his thumb caressed your skin.

"I missed this," he said.

You pushed yourself a little to the side and let your lips touch his in a short chaste kiss. With your eyes closed you kissed his plush lips a second time, this time his hand fell down to your jaw and neck, pulling you down against his hungrier kiss.

Your heartbeat quickened as you reciprocated. Your hands and knees found the plush covers and you held yourself above him, letting his tongue past your lips as he deepened the kiss. His hands found the hem of your shirt and hid underneath it, fingers squeezing your hips. You shifted your weight onto one of your hands and pulled away briefly to grab your hair and push it onto your left shoulder. Lee Know’s lips followed your own and he was propped up on one of his elbows soon enough, lips against yours.

You went to put a hand on his chest, to push him onto his back again, but he grabbed your leg and in a swift motion he had you flipped onto your back, his body now slotted between your legs as he laid kisses down your neck, finding the sensitive spot near your right ear. He gave a light nibble and heard you gasp. Your body reacted too, hips rolling against his in search of some friction.

Your husband gave in to his less noble needs and rolled his hips against you as well, this time you let out a moan at the sensation. Your hands finding his back and pulling him closer to you.

“What do you want?” He whispered in your ear. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You put your hand on the back of his neck as he continued to kiss and suck on your neck.

“You,” it came out as a shaky breath, but Lee know was being generous and he let it go.

“Me?” He smiled against your skin, feeling the way you pushed your body against his. “Hmmm, do you think we can do that?”

He rolled his hips against yours, his obvious boner pressed against your clothed core. Another moan left your lips and you went to cup his cheek and kiss his lips again. Lee know kissed you back, something in him found you endearing at that moment. You were clinging to him, he was sure he could make you beg but he didn’t want to. Not tonight at least. He had different plans.

“We can,” you assured him, eyes finding his brown ones above you.

He smiled at your blown out pupils, lust evident in them.

“Well, what did the doctor say about that?” He brushed his nose against your nose in what was a rare moment of tenderness from your usually quite rough husband. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my wife,” he gave your lips a gentle peck. “Or my baby…”

Your eyes widened and a pink blush washed over your cheeks.

“How do you know?!” You put a hand on his chest to push him back a little.

You stared at each other and Lee Know let out a light giggle.

“Take a guess, Jagi”

You blinked, "you found my results?"

Minho shrugged, "they were on the coffee table."

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a good five seconds.

"A-are you mad?" You asked, lowering your voice to an almost inaudible whisper.

Minho lowered his voice and shook his head.

"Not at all, why would I be?" he kissed your nose.

In fact he was a little proud of himself, proud of you. Deep inside he was excited about the prospect of showing off your round belly and have everyone know you were having his baby.

"…because we didn't plan it," you admitted.

He understood then that the reason why you had kept it secret was in part fear of how he would take it. Oh, if only you knew…

“Babe, I don’t care.” He said simply, “it’s here, it’s happening. We’re doing this.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot to take my pill a few times while we were in New York an-“ you began explaining.

“Shhh,” he rolled his eyes, a smirk on his face, “it’s okay, you don’t have to explain. I know, I was there and I didn’t bring a condom so it’s not like we can blame each other. It’s fine. I saw the papers. All I’m worried about is that you are okay.”

“I am okay,” you gave him a small smile, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he sighed. “The doctor said the baby is fine too.”

“Hmm,” he nodded in content, leaning down to brush his lips against yours slowly.

You breathed in his scent, strong like pinewood and citrusy. Your lips followed his and you let his tongue enter your mouth, savoring each other in the silence of a quiet night away from the busy city.

————

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know fanfic #lee know imagines #lee know fluff #lee minho x reader #lee minho fluff #stray kids minho x reader

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qwibkwib · 8 days ago

Text

On the Cliff,

part 1

part 2

Park Jiwon (Fromis_9) X Male reader

Word Count: 8.7k+

a/n: Ive tried in this fic, to write in switching POV (reader and Female Lead), and also tried writing where i left the readers name ambiguous.

The neon lights outside the bar flickered weakly, casting a dim glow on the crowded streets of Seoul. Inside, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and the dull hum of conversation, broken only by the occasional burst of laughter. Park Jiwon sat at the far end of the bar, nursing her third drink of the night, the ice in her glass long since melted.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the rim of the glass, her mind swimming with thoughts she couldn't drown, no matter how much alcohol she consumed. The past few months had been hell—her job hanging by a thread, her father breathing down her neck, and now... this.

She exhaled sharply, pressing her fingertips to her temple. Work was a battlefield she could never seem to win. Her boss barely acknowledged her, dumping last-minute projects on her desk with impossible deadlines, and the younger editors—brighter, hungrier—were all too eager to step over her. She was starting to wonder if she’d ever escape the suffocating mediocrity that her life had become.

But even that stress paled in comparison to her father.

Park Sangho. CEO. Tyrant. The man who controlled her life with an iron grip. She could still hear his voice from earlier that evening, sharp and cutting like a blade.

“I won’t let you embarrass me any further, Jiwon. You will marry Director Kang, and that’s final.”

His words had echoed in her ears long after the call ended, filling her with a sickening sense of dread. She had tried—God, she had tried—to reason with him, to tell him that she wasn’t some bargaining chip he could use to salvage his failing company. But his fury had been swift, the bruises on her arm hidden beneath the sleeve of her blouse a testament to that.

Jiwon swallowed the lump in her throat and downed the rest of her drink in one go, wincing as the alcohol burned down her throat. What was she supposed to do? She had no place to go, no one to turn to. If she went back home, her father would push the marriage harder. If she stayed out, she'd only delay the inevitable.

Her reflection in the bar’s mirror caught her attention—dark eyes clouded with exhaustion, lips pressed into a thin line, a faint bruise peeking from beneath her makeup near her cheekbone. She looked exactly how she felt. Tired. Trapped. Alone.

“Sir, another please” she requested, handing her glass toward the bartender, who gave her a wary glance before refilling it.

"Hey, pretty thing," a voice slurred beside her, cutting through the noise.

Jiwon stiffened, her eyes widening as she glanced up. A man—older, disheveled, and smelling strongly of alcohol—was leaning too close, his smile wide and unpleasant. His hand rested on the bar, creeping toward hers inch by inch.

"You've been sitting here all alone," he said smoothly, his gaze lingering too long. "Need some company?"

Jiwon’s lips parted, but no words came out at first. Her mind scrambled for a polite way out, something that wouldn’t make him angry. She forced a small, uncertain smile. "Oh... um, no, thank you. I-I’m waiting for someone," she said softly, her voice wavering.

The man chuckled, clearly not believing her. "Come on now, don’t be shy. A sweet thing like you shouldn’t be drinking alone. Let me take care of you."

Jiwon’s heart began to race. She tried to inch away, but the barstool’s narrow space made it impossible. "T-That’s really kind of you, but I’m fine, really..."

Her voice trailed off when he suddenly reached for her wrist, his fingers curling around it too tightly. Panic swelled in her chest, and she instinctively tried to tug free, but he didn’t let go.

"Don't be like that, sweetheart," he said, his grin widening.

Jiwon’s breath hitched. Her head spun with fear, and for a moment, she froze, unsure of what to do. Was she overreacting? Maybe he didn’t mean any harm... right?

"I-I really need to go..." she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, her eyes darting around the room for help.

And then, a voice—cold and sharp—cut through the haze of her growing panic.

"She’s with me.”

—

This week has been exhausting. Your grandmother’s constant nagging about finding a wife, the relentless investors pressing you for an heir, and the vultures circling your company, waiting for any sign of weakness to strike. It was a never-ending cycle of boardroom battles and power plays, leaving you drained and disillusioned.

Then there were the usual sleazy old guys—insignificant men trying to weasel their way into your good graces, hoping you’d throw them a lifeline. It was pathetic, really, the way they groveled, desperate for an investment they didn’t deserve.

Tonight, you needed an escape. Something to drown out the noise.

The bar was dimly lit, filled with the low hum of conversation and the rhythmic thump of music. You didn’t come here often, but it was one of the few places where no one cared who you were. Just another man in a suit looking for a drink. Maybe a distraction. Maybe a hookup.

As you leaned against the bar, nursing your whiskey, your eyes drifted across the room, scanning the crowd with detached indifference. Couples whispering sweet nothings, groups of friends laughing over shared stories, and women—plenty of them—each eyeing you with varying degrees of interest.

And then you saw her.

She sat a few seats away, curled in on herself like she was trying to disappear. Compared to the usual crowd, she looked painfully out of place. Everything about her screamed innocence—too wide eyes, too soft features, too much hesitation. A woman like her didn’t belong here.

She was nursing a soju glass like it held all the answers to her problems, and you couldn’t help but notice how small she looked under the weight of whatever was troubling her. She had no business being here alone.

That should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve looked away, but then, some bastard slid into the seat next to her.

You watched as he leaned in too close, the stink of cheap liquor practically visible from where you sat. She flinched but didn’t push him away. Instead, she smiled nervously—too polite, too naive.

It annoyed you.

She wasn’t stupid, was she? Anyone could see what kind of man he was. Yet, she sat there, clutching her drink like it could shield her, trying to handle the situation with politeness instead of common sense.

The man’s hand reached out, curling around her wrist, and her eyes widened in that telltale way that told you she had no idea how to get out of this.

Pathetic.

You sighed, setting your glass down with a little more force than necessary, and before you knew it, you were standing.

"She’s with me."

Your voice was sharp, cutting through the noise like a blade. The man turned, bleary-eyed and annoyed, but the second his gaze met yours, his confidence withered.

"Sorry, man," he muttered, raising his hands in surrender before slinking away.

You didn’t bother watching the man stumble away. Your focus stayed on her—on the way she blinked up at you with wide, uncertain eyes, as if trying to make sense of what just happened. Surprise flickered across her delicate features, followed by something softer. Gratitude, maybe.

“Th-Thank you,” she stammered, her voice barely above the hum of the bar.

You exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “You should go home,” you said, your tone sharper than intended. “Guys like him aren’t going to be the last.”

She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “I... I can’t really go home right now,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to the glass in front of her.

Her answer should have annoyed you, but instead, it piqued your curiosity. Before you could question it, she looked up again and extended a hand. “Jiwon,” she said softly. “Park Jiwon.”

You stared at her hand for a beat too long before shaking it, her fingers cool and small against yours.

“Let me buy you a drink,” she offered, a tentative smile tugging at her lips. “As thanks.”

You considered her for a moment, then shrugged and took the seat beside her. Free drinks weren’t something you turned down, even if they came from someone who clearly didn’t belong in a place like this.

She signaled the bartender, her small hand barely reaching across the bar. “Excuse me, please. One…” Her voice trailed off, embarrassment flickering across her face as she realized she had no idea what to order for you.

“...Whiskey,” you finished for her, watching the way her lips parted in relief. Your gaze lingered, drifting lower to the graceful curve of her neck, the delicate slope exposed by the collar of her blouse. She looked soft—too soft, too vulnerable. Something stirred deep inside you, something you weren’t willing to acknowledge.

She offered a nervous smile. “Let's say I can't go home, but at least I shouldn’t be drinking alone, right?”

Your jaw tightened at how casually she said it. "You shouldn't be here at all."

Jiwon sighed, stirring the melting ice in her glass. “It’s fine,” she said softly. “I don't think he meant any harm.”

You stared at her, disbelief prickling beneath your skin. “Meant no harm?” Your voice dropped, harsher than intended. “If I was a second later, he would’ve had his hands around your neck—”

You stopped abruptly, swallowing down the anger that came too easily. Your eyes flickered back to her throat, to the faint line where her pulse fluttered beneath the skin. You clenched your fists, dragging your gaze away.

She shifted in her seat, clearly unnerved by your sudden intensity, but still too naive to understand the weight of the situation.

“Are you really that naive?” you asked, more irritated than concerned. "Or do you just enjoy putting yourself in danger?”

Jiwon blinked up at you, and for a moment, you thought she might cry. But instead, she straightened, something stubborn in her eyes. “I can handle myself,” she whispered, but even she didn’t sound convinced.

You leaned in slightly, your voice low. “No, Jiwon. You can’t.”

Your gaze dropped again—her throat, the way it moved when she swallowed nervously. You told yourself it was just irritation, just frustration at her carelessness. But deep down, you knew better.

The conversation went silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could have left. You should have. But something—something you couldn't quite explain—kept you anchored to your seat. An unease that wouldn't let you walk away, not yet.

So you stayed, drinking through the discomfort, each glass dulling the sharp edge of your thoughts. Four? No, maybe five now? You'd lost count somewhere between watching the ice melt in your glass and the way Jiwon's fingers trembled slightly around hers.

You turned to check on her, and the sight that greeted you made something stir deep in your chest. Her pale skin was now flushed, her cheeks tinted with a soft, rosy hue, her eyes unfocused yet still holding that same innocent trust.

"Hey," you called out, your voice lower, rougher than before. "You said you could handle yourself..."

Jiwon lifted her gaze to yours, her lips parting slightly. "I am handling myself," she murmured, voice hazy and far too soft. "And you're still here, so I don't have to worry."

Her naivety chipped away at your patience, poking at something dark inside you. You leaned in, amusement curling in your chest. "You already trust me? You don’t even know my name."

Her brows furrowed slightly, her drunken mind slowly processing your words. Then, with the same unwavering innocence, she reasoned, "You wouldn’t stay with me if you weren’t a good guy."

You let out a low, humorless chuckle. "What if I stayed exactly because I have intentions?"

Jiwon's eyes widened, realization flickering briefly before the alcohol dulled it. She blinked slowly, and then, as if accepting her own reckless logic, she whispered, "I trust you."

And then she did something you didn’t expect. Both her hands reached out, cupping your face, her touch warm—maybe from the alcohol, maybe something else. But it burned, seeping into your skin, igniting something dangerous in you.

Your jaw clenched under her gentle hold, and you exhaled slowly through your nose. "You're going to regret that," you muttered.

Before she could respond, you scooped her up in a swift, effortless motion, carrying her out of the bar in a bridal carry.

Jiwon made a small sound of protest, but it was lost against your chest, her body too pliant, too trusting. You told yourself it was just the alcohol making her reckless, but deep down, you knew—this girl didn't belong in your world. And yet, here she was.

—

The low hum of the car engine thrummed beneath her, a steady, grounding noise that pulled Jiwon back from the hazy edges of drunkenness. Her head lolled against the cool leather of the seat, and as her vision cleared, the blurry city lights outside the window sharpened into focus.

Reality crept in slowly.

She blinked once, twice, and the events of the bar replayed in her mind in disjointed fragments—the stranger’s leering smile, the way her heart had pounded in fear, and then... him. The man beside her now.

Her eyes flickered toward him cautiously. He sat there, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually against the gearshift, his sharp profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. The weight of his presence, his quiet confidence, pressed against her like an invisible force. And then it hit her.

I trust you.

Jiwon’s breath hitched as heat crept up her neck, mortification settling heavy in her chest. She had touched him, her fingers brushing against the sharp planes of his face without a second thought. Her lips parted slightly, as if to say something, to take it back, to explain herself—but no words came.

"You’re awake," his voice cut through the thick silence, deep and knowing.

She stiffened, hands curling into fists in her lap. "...Yes," she murmured, her voice quieter than she intended.

His lips quirked up, almost amused, but he didn’t look at her. "You remember?"

She swallowed hard. "Some of it..."

"Good."

The weight of that single word settled in her stomach like a stone. Jiwon turned her gaze to the window, watching the neon lights blur past, wondering where they were headed. She should have asked. She should have cared.

But then his hand reached over—strong, warm fingers brushing against her wrist, guiding her gently but firmly. And she followed.

She didn't know why. Maybe it was the remnants of alcohol clouding her judgment, or maybe it was something else—something deeper, something unspoken. A pull she didn't understand.

Before she knew it, they were in the elevator of a sleek hotel, the air thick with unspoken tension. Her pulse pounded against her skin, each ding of the elevator a countdown to something inevitable.

The doors slid open, and he stepped out, never loosening his grip on her wrist. She followed him down the quiet hallway, past doors she didn’t dare glance at, her heart pounding louder than their footsteps.

Inside the room, the door clicked shut behind them, sealing them away from the rest of the world. Jiwon stood frozen, her back pressed against the door as she finally looked up at him. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, making him look even more dangerous, more untouchable.

"I should..." her voice wavered, hesitant, but even she didn’t know how to finish that sentence. I should go? I should stop?

He took a step closer, and Jiwon’s breath caught in her throat.

"Do you want to leave?" His voice was low, almost gentle, but there was something else beneath it. Something that made her stomach twist.

She opened her mouth to answer, to say yes, to say no, to say something—anything—but no words came out. Instead, she felt her head shake slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if her body had decided for her. His lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, and he stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

Jiwon’s breath hitched as his hand slid up her arm, his touch leaving a trail of warmth that made her skin tingle. His other hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. She felt her eyes flutter shut, her body instinctively leaning into his touch, even as her mind screamed at her to stop.

His lips were on hers before she could think, soft yet demanding, and Jiwon felt herself melt under the weight of it. Her hands, which had been clenched into fists at her sides, slowly uncurled, her fingers trembling as they reached up to grip the front of his shirt. She didn’t know what she was doing, didn’t know why she was letting this happen, but she couldn’t stop herself.

His kiss deepened, and Jiwon felt a heat spread through her, pooling low in her stomach. Her inexperience showed in the way she hesitated, the way her movements were unsure, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he guided her, his hands firm yet gentle, his lips coaxing hers to respond.

When he finally pulled away, Jiwon was breathless, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. He studied her for a moment, his gaze dark and unreadable, before he leaned in again, this time to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Jiwon," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Do you still trust me?”

Jiwon, perhaps too trusting, perhaps she knew what she was doing, perhaps she wanted it herself.

She, Jiwon simply nodded.

"Good girl."

Seeing her eyes wide and vulnerable, a slow smile tugs at the corners of your lips. She should be resisting, pushing back against you, yet she naively trusts you. Her innocence makes it more difficult for you to control yourself. You want to prove her wrong, want her to regret her choices, want her to learn—you want her.

The sight of her trembling chest and quick breaths sends shivers down your spine. You trace slow circles with your thumb against her cheeks. You lean in, breathing down her neck, her scent filling your thoughts. Her clear, smooth skin makes you want to mark her.

And you do. You suck on her neck, tasting her flesh. Her hands rest on your chest, poised to push you away, yet all she did was curl her fingers. Instead, she voices a subtle moan: "Mmm..."

Her name rolled off your tongue, low and rough, a sound that seemed to echo in the charged silence between you. "Jiwon." The way her wide, innocent eyes flickered to yours, the way her breath hitched at the sound of her own name—it was intoxicating. There was something about her purity, her naivety, that made the desire to claim her even more irresistible.

Her knees trembling, but you keep her steady in your embrace, relishing in her helplessness. When you pull back, leaving behind a faint ache and a warm throb on her skin, you see the confusion and desire swirling in her eyes. It's intoxicating to know that you have this power over her, this ability to make her feel such conflicting emotions.

“I… I haven't done this be.. before..” She shyly confess.

"You're so cute and innocent… too innocent…" you murmured, your voice a mix of amusement and something darker, something possessive.

Your hand brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear to give you a clearer view of her face—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her breath came in shallow gasps. Your fingers traced the delicate line of her jaw, and she held her breath, her body trembling under your touch. You let your hand drift lower, following the curves of her body, savoring the way she shivered under your fingertips. When your hand lingered on her stomach, you could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her body reacted to even the slightest touch.

Your hand dipped below the waistband of her pants, and she flinched slightly, a soft gasp escaping her lips. But there was no real resistance in her movements, no attempt to push you away. Instead, her wide eyes followed your hand, mesmerized, as if she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to.

With ease, you slipped your fingers beneath her underwear, your touch meeting the warmth and wetness that pooled between her legs. A smirk tugged at your lips as you realized just how ready she was for you. "Jiwon, acting so innocent…" you teased, your voice low and rough, "yet your body's so lustful."

Her cheeks burned at your words, her lips parting as if to protest, but no sound came out. Instead, a soft, breathy moan escaped her as you rubbed your finger against her entrance, her warmth coating your skin. Her body was already betraying her, her wetness inviting your fingers deeper, her hole radiating heat that seemed to pull you in.

Before she could form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence, your finger pushed inside her, and her breath hitched, her back arching slightly. Her gaze remained fixed on your hand, her eyes wide and unblinking, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. Her moans were muffled, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tried to suppress the sounds threatening to escape.

But you didn’t let her hide. You moved your finger slowly, deliberately, watching her face as her innocence unraveled under your touch. "Don’t hold back," you murmured, your voice a low command. "Let me hear you."

Her lips trembled, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you continued to move your finger inside her. Her hands clutched at the sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white, but she didn’t try to stop you. Instead, her body arched into your touch, her hips moving slightly, as if seeking more.

"You’re so responsive," you said, your voice a mix of admiration and something darker, something possessive. "So pure, yet so eager. It’s intoxicating."

Her moans grew louder, less restrained, as you added a second finger, stretching her carefully. Her eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back as waves of pleasure washed over her. "Ah... I... I can't..." she whispered, her voice quivering, but the words died on her lips. Her body spoke volumes instead—hips moving in rhythm with your fingers, breath coming in ragged gasps.

Her breath hitched at your command, her body trembling as she struggled to obey. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, her wide, innocent eyes locking onto yours. There was a mix of vulnerability and desire in her gaze, a silent plea for something she couldn’t quite name.

"Look at how wet you are," you repeated, your voice low and rough, as you withdrew your fingers slightly, letting her see the glistening evidence of her arousal. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her lips parting in a soft gasp as she stared at your hand, mesmerized and mortified all at once.

"I... I didn’t know..." she whispered, her voice trembling, but you cut her off with a firm, possessive tone.

"Look at how much your body wants this,” you said, your fingers pushing back inside her, deeper this time, curling in a way that made her back arch off the bed.

Her breath came in short, uneven gasps, her hands clutching at the sheets as pleasure coiled tightly in her core. Her hips moved instinctively, seeking more of your touch, more of the intoxicating sensation you were giving her. "Ah... I... I can’t..." she whimpered, her voice breaking as the pressure built inside her.

"Let go," you commanded, your voice firm but laced with a dark tenderness. "I want to see you fall apart for me."

Her body obeyed before her mind could catch up. The tension inside her snapped, and she cried out, her voice a mix of surprise and relief as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her back arched, her thighs trembling as she clenched around your fingers, her release washing over her in a dizzying rush.

You watched her closely, savoring every twitch, every gasp, every shudder that rippled through her body. Her innocence, her purity, was now forever marked by the pleasure you had given her. And as she slowly came down from her high, her breath still ragged, her body still trembling, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against her ear.

Waves of pleasure travel throughout her body, her hips out of control kept jerking. Her climax semingly unending as she can still vividly remember his finger inside of her as if it never left.

“Good girl”

Her thoughts that was swamp with pleasure cleared after he heard his voice. Jiwon dropped to her knees as her legs gave out. Her strength leaving her as she thinking it was over, she was satisfied more she asked for, she was relieved after a very long time.

But before she could even gather herself, arms suddenly swoop her, rasing her up.

Before she realized she was cradle in his arm, leaning into his chest.

He didn't talk, he didn't inform Jiwon on what his plan, Jiwon didn't know what was in his head, Jiwon didn't question what was he doing, all she did was trust him.

Jiwon dropped to her knees as it strength leaves her legs, her pelvis still burning from the after. She can still vividly remember his fingers inside as if it never left

Waves of pleasure continued to ripple through her body, even as his fingers left her. Her hips jerked involuntarily, still chasing the sensation, her climax seemingly unending. The memory of his touch lingered vividly, as if his fingers were still inside her, still coaxing every last tremor of pleasure from her trembling form.

"Good girl," his voice cut through the haze, low and approving, and Jiwon’s thoughts, once swamped with pleasure, began to clear. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she dropped to her knees, her strength completely drained. She gasped for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body still trembling from the intensity of her release.

For a moment, she thought it was over. She felt satisfied, more than she had ever imagined possible, and a strange sense of relief washed over her, as if a weight she hadn’t even realized she was carrying had been lifted. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, trying to gather herself.

But before she could even process what had happened, strong arms suddenly swooped beneath her, lifting her effortlessly off the floor. Jiwon let out a small, surprised gasp, her body instinctively curling into his chest as he cradled her against him. Her head rested against his shoulder, her breath still uneven, her mind still foggy with the remnants of pleasure.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t tell her what he was planning, didn’t explain where he was taking her. Jiwon didn’t know what was going through his mind, didn’t know what he intended to do next. But she didn’t question him. She didn’t resist. Instead, she simply trusted him, her body relaxing in his arms as he carried her down the hallway.

When they reached the bedroom, he set her down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment as if to steady her. Jiwon’s legs still felt weak, her body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened, but she sat upright, her wide, innocent eyes looking up at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

He knelt before her, his hands moving to the hem of her shirt with a tenderness that felt almost reverent. The fabric slid upward slowly, his touch deliberate yet gentle, as if he were handling something precious. She raised her arms to assist, her movements hesitant but willing, her breath hitching as the cool air brushed against her now-bare skin. His gaze remained locked on hers, dark and intense, yet softened by something unspoken that made her pulse quicken.

Next, his fingers found the button of her pants, and she stiffened slightly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Relax," he murmured, his voice low and steady, though the roughness beneath the surface hinted at the restraint he was clinging to. "I’ll take care of you."

She nodded, her lips trembling as he undid the button and eased her pants down her legs. He paused, his hands lingering on her thighs, his breath catching as he took her in. His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his composure.

Now clad only in her white, flowery underwear, Jiwon sat at the edge of the bed, her smooth skin glowing under the dim lamplight. Her curves were unveiled, her bra accentuating the gentle swell of her breasts, her panties still damp from earlier. She waited, her heart racing, unsure of what would come next.

He stepped back, hurriedly shedding his own clothes. Jiwon’s eyes widened, her gaze flickering over his body with a mix of awe and nervousness. When he finally removed the last piece of clothing, her breath caught in her throat.

Her eyes fell to his shaft, stiff and swollen, and her mind flooded with questions.

Why is it so big?

Is it always like that?

Is it as hard as it looks?

Is it warm—or hot?

Why does it seem so full, like it’s about to burst?

Driven by curiosity, her hand trembled as she reached out, her fingers hovering just above him. But before she could make contact, his hand shot out, catching her wrist gently but firmly.

"Don’t," he said, his voice low and rough, his eyes dark with warning. "I can only hold back so much."

Though she didn’t fully understand his words, she quickly pulled her hand back, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I-I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling.

He shook his head, his expression softening. "You don’t need to apologize," he said, his tone gentler now. "Just... let me take care of you."

"Jiwon," he said, his voice low and rough, "look at me."

She obeyed, her wide eyes meeting his, and he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks.

His hands guided her gently, easing her down onto the bed with a tenderness that belied the intensity in his eyes. He kept the intimate distance between their lips, his breath mingling with hers as he climbed onto the bed, his body following hers as he moved her farther into the soft mattress. The weight of him above her was both comforting and overwhelming, his presence enveloping her completely.

He leaned in, finally closing the distance between their lips, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was both demanding and tender. His tongue brushed against her bottom lip, seeking entry, and Jiwon hesitated for only a moment before parting her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth, intertwining with hers in a slow, deliberate dance that left her breathless.

Their kiss seemed unending, each movement of his lips and tongue sending shivers down her spine. But as they kissed, Jiwon became acutely aware of the subtle shifts in his body, the way his hips pressed against hers, the way his tip brushed against her belly with every small movement. At first, she was surprised, her eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before she closed them again, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

But as the kiss continued, she found herself anticipating the sensation, her body reacting instinctively to the subtle friction. She began to notice which movements caused his tip to touch her skin, and without fully realizing it, she started to move herself in ways that would bring them into contact more often. It was almost unconscious, a natural response to the heat building between them, but each time she felt him against her, a thrill of excitement shot through her.

His hands roamed over her body, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were memorizing every curve, every inch of her. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Jiwon," he murmured, his voice rough and strained, "you’re driving me crazy."

She blinked up at him, her lips slightly swollen from their earlier kiss, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. "I... I didn’t mean to," she whispered, her voice trembling, her words barely audible.

In one swift motion, his hands moved around her back, fingers deftly finding the clasp of her bra. With a soft click, it loosened, and he gently slid the straps down her arms, Jiwon assisting with a quiet compliance. Her chest was now fully exposed, her nipples erect and sensitive to the cool air—and to his gaze.

He didn’t hesitate. Lowering himself, he descended to her torso, his breath hot against her skin as it brushed over her sensitive chest. She shivered, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he began to explore her with his mouth. His tongue flicked against one nipple, teasing it before his lips closed around it, sucking gently but insistently. At the same time, his other hand moved to her opposite breast, his fingers rolling and pinching the nipple with just the right amount of pressure, ensuring it wasn’t neglected.

Jiwon’s breath hitched, her back arching slightly as pleasure rippled through her. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping tightly as she tried to steady herself. The sensations were overwhelming—his mouth hot and demanding, his touch both soothing and electrifying. She could feel once more the heat pooling low in her abdomen.

"Ah—" she whimpered, her voice trembling as she struggled to process the intensity of it all. Her mind was a haze of desire and vulnerability, her thoughts scattering as he continued to lavish attention on her. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle tug of his lips, sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, leaving her breathless and yearning for more.

But the sensation suddenly disappeared…

Before quickly reappearing in her belly.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, her body trembling as the sensations shifted. His tongue, which had been tracing lines across her stomach, now moved lower, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. She could feel his hands on her hips, firm yet gentle, as they hooked into the waistband of her panties and began to peel them away. Her womanhood, already slick with arousal, was exposed to the cool air—and to him.

She watched, her heart pounding, as he kissed his way down her thighs, his movements deliberate and unhurried. His breath was warm against her skin, sending shivers through her as he neared her most intimate place. When his head dipped between her legs, disappearing from her view, she felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his gaze on her, intense and unwavering, as if he were studying her, memorizing every detail.

Then it happened—something warm and wet pressed against her, and she realized it was his tongue. Her breath hitched, her hands gripping the sheets as he began to explore her with a slow, deliberate precision. The sensation was foreign yet intoxicating, his tongue moving in ways that made her toes curl and her back arch.

But then something changed. His tongue delved deeper, more insistently, moving in unpredictable patterns that left no part of her untouched. It was wide and thorough, exploring her with an intensity that made her gasp. Her mind struggled to process the overwhelming pleasure, her thoughts scattering as he continued to taste her, to devour her.

When he finally pulled back, his head rising from between her legs, she saw him lick his lips, as if savoring the flavor of her. The realization of what he had just done—what he had just tasted—sent a flush of heat to her cheeks. She was utterly exposed, both physically and emotionally, and yet the way he looked at her, with a mix of hunger and reverence, made her feel something she couldn’t quite name.

Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "You... you—" she started, but the words caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, how to articulate the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

He didn’t speak, either. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her inner thigh in a soft, almost apologetic kiss, as if to reassure her. His eyes met hers, dark and intense, and in that moment, she knew he wasn’t done—not with her, not with this. And despite the whirlwind of sensations and emotions, she found herself wanting more, craving whatever came next.

“Jiwon, i can't hold back any longer” He stated. His eyes meet Jiwon, seemingly waiting for her confirmation.

Jiwon’s breath hitched as his voice broke the silence, low and rough, filled with a tension that mirrored the ache building inside her. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and intense, searching for her consent, her approval. She could see the restraint in his expression, the way his jaw tightened as he waited, giving her the power to decide.

For a moment, she hesitated, her mind racing with a mix of fear and desire. She had never been this vulnerable, this exposed, with anyone before. But the way he looked at her—with a hunger that was tempered by something softer, something protective—made her feel safe, even in her uncertainty.

Her lips parted, her voice trembling as she whispered, “I… I trust you.”

It was all he needed. His eyes flared with something primal, yet his touch remained gentle as he shifted closer, his hands sliding to her hips to guide her into position. She could feel the heat of him, the weight of his desire pressing against her, and her heart pounded in anticipation.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice thick with need but still tender. “Keep your eyes on me.”

She obeyed, her gaze locking onto his as he positioned himself at her entrance. The first touch of him against her sent a jolt through her body, and she gasped, her fingers digging into the sheets. He moved slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust, his eyes never leaving hers.

As he finally pushed forward, a sharp, unfamiliar pain tore through Jiwon, stealing her breath and leaving her gasping for air. Her fingers clawed at the sheets, her back arching involuntarily as her body reacted to the sudden intrusion. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as she struggled to process the intensity of the sensation. Her mind raced, replaying every choice that had led her to this moment, every step that had brought her here.

“Ah— it hurts…” she pleaded, her voice trembling, her body tense as she tried to endure the pain.

He froze immediately, his body going still as he felt her tense beneath him. The pause gave her a moment to catch her breath, her body slowly relaxing as the initial shock began to subside. The pain, while still present, became more manageable, and her focus shifted from the discomfort to the sensation of him inside her.

She could feel his warmth spreading through her, his presence reshaping her in ways she had never imagined. His throbs pulsed within her, a rhythm that seemed to echo in her very core. Her body heated further, a mix of curiosity and anticipation building within her.

Her thoughts raced, tumbling over one another in a chaotic flood.

Is this what sex is?

What happens after this?

How would it feel if he moved?

The pain that had consumed her just moments ago was now overshadowed by a growing curiosity, a yearning to understand, to experience more. Her passion ignited, her body responding to his presence in ways she couldn’t fully comprehend.

But before she could fully process her thoughts, his voice broke through the haze, his words pulling her back to reality.

“Jiwon… you’re bleeding.”

—

Her blood trickles onto you before it stains the bedsheets, a vivid reminder of what just happened. The sight of it sends a jolt through you, a mix of awe and something primal stirring deep within.

“I—I told you,” she whispers, her voice trembling, pulling your attention back to her. Your gaze shifts to her face, but her eyes are avoiding yours, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else—something vulnerable. “I’ve never done this before.”

The words hit you like a wave, and it all clicks into place. You remember her saying it earlier, but now, in this moment, the weight of it sinks in. She wasn’t just talking about the circumstances—she meant it was her first time. Ever. The realization sends a rush of heat through you, your body reacting in ways you can’t fully control.

You stare at her, taking in the way her hands grip each other, as if seeking comfort or reassurance. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, bitten nervously, and her entire demeanor screams innocence. This was her first time, and now… she’s no longer a maiden. Because of you.

The thought sends a surge of possessiveness through you, your excitement flaring as you realize what you’ve just claimed. Her first time. Her first everything. The heat in your body rises, your desire intensifying as you struggle to hold onto the last shreds of your sanity. She’s driving you insane, and she doesn’t even realize it.

“Jiwon,” you murmur, your voice low and rough, barely holding back the storm of emotions raging inside you. “…you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

She blinks up at you, her wide eyes finally meeting yours, and in that moment, you see it—the trust, the vulnerability, the curiosity. It’s all there, laid bare for you to see. And it only makes you want her more.

You lean in, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s both possessive and tender, trying to convey everything you can’t put into words. When you pull back, your forehead rests against hers, your breath mingling as you try to steady yourself.

“I’ll go slow,” you promise, your voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

She nods, her lips trembling, and you can feel her body slowly relaxing beneath you. You shift slightly, adjusting your position, and then you begin to move again, your thrusts slow and deliberate, giving her time to adjust. The way she feels around you is intoxicating—warm, tight, and utterly consuming. You have to fight to keep your movements controlled, to keep from losing yourself completely.

“Hmmmn…” she whimpers, desperately trying to hold back her moans, her voice trembling with restraint.

You can feel how tense she is, her walls gripping you with such intensity that it’s almost difficult to move. She’s holding back, both physically and emotionally, and you know she needs reassurance. You pull out slightly, feeling her body resist for a moment before you push back in, deeper this time. It’s still tight, but there’s a faint ease, as if her body is slowly molding to yours, adjusting to your size.

“Relax, Jiwon,” you murmur, your voice low and soothing as you continue to move against her, slow and steady. “You’re too tight… just let go. Trust me.”

Her hands grip your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she clings to you. Her breath comes in short, uneven gasps, and you can feel her body responding to you, slowly but surely. Every sound she makes, every tremble of her body, only fuels your desire, and you can feel your restraint slipping. You pull out again, this time a little further, and when you push back in, you can feel her body yielding more easily, allowing you to go deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, and you have to grit your teeth to keep from losing control.

“Don’t hold yourself back,” you breathe into her ear, your voice a husky whisper. “Moan for me, Jiwon… let it all out.”

“Oh god… it feels weird, it’s—it’s… ah…” she moans, her voice breaking as she finally lets go, the sound sending a jolt of heat through you.

“You’re doing so well,” you murmur, your voice rough with need but laced with tenderness. “You fit me so well, Jiwon.”

Her eyes flutter closed, her body arching slightly as she begins to move with you, tentatively at first, but then with more confidence. The way she responds to you, the way she trusts you, only makes you want her more. Her innocence, her vulnerability—it’s all for you, and it drives you wild. You pull out again, this time almost completely, and when you thrust back in, you can feel her body opening up to you, accepting you more fully. It’s as if she’s molding to your shape, her walls gripping you tightly but with less resistance, allowing you to push deeper than before.

“Ahh… it’s too much… I can’t… something’s—” she gasps, her voice trembling as her body tenses beneath you.

“Let go,” you urge, your voice a low growl, barely holding back your own climax. “I’ve got you.”

“I ca—can’t anymore… something’s coming—ahh!” she cries out, her voice breaking as her body shudders with the force of her release.

“Don’t worry,” you assure her, your voice strained as you feel your own control slipping. “I’m close too…”

Her body tenses, her back arching as a wave of pleasure crashes over her, leaving her breathless and trembling. You feel her climax around you, her walls gripping you tightly as she cries out softly, her voice breaking with the intensity of it. The sensation is overwhelming, and it pushes you over the edge. You pull out one last time, your body trembling with the effort to hold back, and when you thrust back in, you can feel her body fully accepting you, her warmth enveloping you completely.

With a low groan, you pull out just in time, your release spraying across her exhausted body. It lands on her smooth, pale skin, tainting her once more, marking her in a way that feels both primal and possessive. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax.

For a moment, you both lie there, breathless and spent, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You can feel her heart racing against your chest, her body pressed close to yours, her warmth seeping into you.

“Jiwon,” you whisper, your voice soft but filled with emotion. With your fingers you set aside her hair, pulling a hair strand out of her mouth. “You… you’re incredible.”

She doesn’t say anything, her mind clearly still reeling from what just happened. But as she lies there in your arms, her body pressed against yours, you know one thing for certain—she’s yours. And you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, to keep her close. Because she’s not just anyone. She’s Jiwon. And she’s everything.

—

The first thing Jiwon noticed when she woke up was the warmth—his warmth. His arm was still wrapped loosely around her waist, his breathing slow and steady against the back of her neck. It was a kind of comfort she’d never known before, and for a moment, she allowed herself to sink into it, to pretend it could last.

But reality was quick to creep in.

She blinked up at the ceiling, her mind replaying the events of the night before in fragments—the way he had touched her, not with urgency, but with a patience that made her chest ache. The way his lips had traced her skin with quiet reverence, his voice low and soothing when she hesitated. He had been so gentle, so careful with her, as if she were something fragile.

No one had ever treated her that way before.

Jiwon’s fingers curled into the sheets. Her father’s voice echoed in the back of her mind, sharp and unyielding. "You're to marry Kang, and that's final." It didn’t matter what she wanted; it never did. Love, tenderness—those were luxuries she was never allowed. Her life was a carefully laid-out plan, dictated by family expectations and obligations.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to move, slowly slipping out from under his arm. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake, and she took it as a sign. If she left now, she could convince herself this was just a fleeting mistake—something she could forget.

Standing by the bed, she watched him for a moment longer. In sleep, he looked softer, less guarded, and something deep inside her twisted painfully. She didn’t even know his name, and yet, he had given her something she had never received from anyone before.

She glanced around the dimly lit hotel room, searching for her clothes. As she quietly dressed, her eyes fell on the bedside table. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a few bills and placed them neatly beside his wallet—enough for breakfast, she thought. It was foolish, but it felt like the right thing to do, a way to show gratitude for something she could never truly repay.

With one last glance, she turned toward the door, hesitating just for a second.

Then, without looking back, she slipped out of the room and into the quiet hotel hallway.

As she stepped outside into the crisp morning air, wrapping her coat tightly around herself, she realized she didn’t regret last night.

For once, she had allowed herself to feel.

And maybe that was why, despite everything—despite the man waiting for her at home, despite the weight of expectations pressing down on her—she knew she had already fallen.

...

Part 2

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #fromis 9 smut #fromis #park jiwon #jiwon #fromis 9

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 4 months ago

Text

Do You Wanna Touch Me?

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) Pairing: Marcus Pike x Sex Worker Female Reader Words Count: 4,200 Summary: After getting his heart broken, Marcus Pike takes an assignment in Amsterdam. What started as an exploration of the red light district turns into choosing you, the most beautiful art he's ever seen. Warnings: sex work, erotic dancing, hand job, masturbation, fingering, oral (m receiving), reader wears makeup and a dress, marcus tries to escape his heartbreak, van gogh mentions, reader is college aged, dieter bravo exists in this universe

A/N: This was written for @baronessvonglitter's Fuck-tober birthday celebration. I was assigned Marcus Pike and "Do You Wanna Touch Me" by Joan Jett. Happy birthday Adriana!!! 💕

Here are the songs I refer to in the fic: “Do You Wanna Touch Me” by Joan Jett “Bed Chem” by Sabrina Carpenter “Streets” by Doja Cat “God Is A Woman” by Ariana Grande “Cinema” by Harry Styles “The Night Me and Your Mama Met” by Childish Gambino Masterlist

---

Marcus doesn’t do things like this. He’s a good man, a good son, a good brother, a good friend, and most of all, a good agent. And yet, he still walks down the cobblestone street that’s bathed in red lights.

LIVE SEX SHOW SEX TOYS SEX PALACE HIGH TIMES

What in the world is he doing here? Curiosity, loneliness, being so fucking horny he can’t focus on the case ahead. You’re a good man he tells himself as he ventures deeper into the crimson alleys, the shadow of shame following closely behind him.

“Hey handsome. Today’s your lucky day.” A blonde man winks, handing him a gilded envelope. “You’re invited to Galerij.”

Marcus blinks down at the golden envelope, looking up to find the blonde stranger already gone from his sight. He opens the envelope, revealing a simple invitation with gold embossed text.

Galerij, Amsterdam’s hottest art pieces. €400

He’s a damn FBI agent, and yet he’s too intrigued and desperate for a distraction to say no. He should know better, his badge weighs heavily in his pocket. He plugs the address into his phone with a sigh and makes the quick walk to the address listed, silently atoning for his sins as he passes the Oude Kerk church. He doesn’t dare make eye contact with any of the police officers situated, they might sense his shame.

“You’ve arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice intones. He looks up at the plain brick row home that stands out amongst the surrounding buildings covered in neon lights with windows full of girls in different levels of undress.

A small gold sign hangs above the unassuming black door. GALERIJ

He inhales deeply and pushes the door open. A bell jingles. Inside, an older looking woman with slicked-back blonde hair and a sharp black suit sits behind a desk.

“Nederlands or English?” she asks, her tone clipped.

“English,” he answers, his throat tight. “Please.”

“Invitation?”

“Oh, uh, here,” he hands her the invitation.

Without any more acknowledgment, she gestures to a black leather chair near an intricately carved golden door. “Please take a seat.”

A bit of trepidation blooms within him as he sits down, but when he looks around, he realizes that this isn’t some seedy back-alley brothel. It can’t be that bad if the walls are covered in mahogany and the floor is marble.

The woman makes a quick phone call, speaking in a hushed voice. His palms grow sweaty. What the hell is he doing? This was supposed to be a quick exploration of something that’s always fascinated him… legal vices. Yet now, he's gripping the armrests as the same stern woman brings over a clipboard and card machine.

“Cash or charge?”

“Oh, cash?” he replies quickly, fumbling for his wallet. There’s no way he’s going to use a credit card around here, too many chances of his secret adventure getting revealed on a statement.

“400 euros.”

He opens his wallet and unfolds his money. 100, what are you doing? 200, what are you doing? 300, Marcus, seriously, what are you doing? 350, no seriously what are you doing? 400, damn, you’re really doing it.

Stern woman takes the money and hands him a gold pin with a simple G etched onto it. She hits a small gold bell on her desk, a singular ring sharply echoes across the small room.

He pins the pin to his chest, reminding him of all the times he used to pin the old Met Museum badge to his lapel when he was a young college student in New York. This is so much more different than that, he reminds himself.

The golden door opens after a moment.

A beautiful older woman in a dark burgundy skirt and matching jacket walks out with a smile lifting her dark red lips.

“Welcome to Galerij. I am Maud, the curator.” she greets, offering her hand. “What would you like us to call you here?”

He rises and shakes her hand.

Can’t do Marcus, can’t do Pike, can’t do Agent. He thinks of that one actor everyone tells him he looks like. “Uh–Bravo.”

“Very well, Bravo,” she opens the door, moving aside allowing him to walk through. “Welcome to Galerij.”

He steps into a stark white room. The floor is shiny concrete, a singular white table with two white wishbone chairs sit in the middle of the room, a stark contrast to the entrance room on the other side of the wall. Not exactly what he was expecting. The agent in him can’t help but think this would be a perfect place to kill somebody.

Maud motions for him to sit across from her. “Here you will make your decision on what piece you’d like. Gay or straight?”

He sits down, her question is a reminder as to why he’s really here. “Straight,” he answers, his nerves beginning to creep around him.

She nods. “All of our pieces are tested, clean, and practice safe sex. Your piece will tell you what they will and won’t do once you make your choice. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You will have twenty minutes, your time will start once you enter your gallery. A bell will ring every five minutes, your final bell will ring twice symbolizing your last five minutes. Do not be late. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Of course no photos or recordings. We ask you to not even have your phone out. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ready?” she asks with a smile on her face.

“I am,” he answers. His heart is pounding.

She nods and presses a button, a shrill buzz echoes through the room. A hidden door opens and a large muscle and tattoo clad man with buzzed black hair and a nose ring walks out carrying a red velvet-covered book. He hands it to Maud, before standing behind her like a silent guardian.

His heart races faster than he ever thought it could when she opens the book and pushes it towards him.

GALERIJ with the day's date is stamped on the thick page.

His fingers tremble as he flips to the first page revealing a photo of an olive skinned and brown haired woman clad in dark blue lingerie with delicate yellow stars embroidered all over it lying on top of swirled silky blue sheets. She’s absolutely stunning.

“This is The Starry Night.”

He nods, turning the page.

A pale skinned, petite woman with shockingly white blonde hair wears a light blue bra and lace panties while laying atop white flower petals. She’s just as beautiful as the first woman.

“This is Almond Blossom.”

He turns the page.

A dark skinned, dark haired woman sits against a yellow wall wearing two sunflower blooms over her ample chest. Her smile is wide, just like her eyes lined with bright gold glitter. She’s gorgeous

“This is Sunflowers.”

They all look like they just walked off the runway, all beautiful and alluring. He wonders what–or who–the next piece will be. He smiles to himself when he realizes they’re all named after Van Gogh. Of course he’d find himself in an art themed brothel… he just can’t escape work.

“Before you see my fourth piece, please know she’s a little different. You cannot touch her, only watch. Don’t let that sway your decision, she is our most popular piece.”

He braces himself as he turns the page.

He loses his breath when he sees you. There you are, sitting cross-legged against the same color wall as Sunflowers. He can just see a glimpse of your nipples under your sheer indigo bra. Your green lined eyes leer at the camera. He thanks all the stars in Starry Night for his chance to even get a look at you. He’s lost in time at how your skin glows against the golden wall.

“Wow,” he breathes out.

“I believe you made your decision,” Maud says with a knowing smile. “This is Irises.”

“Yes,” Marcus swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Irises please.”

She nods and closes the book. “Pieter, let Irises know.”

“Okay Bravo,” Maud says with a smile and stands. “Pieter will come and get you when Irises is ready. Please do enjoy my gallery.”

“Thank you Maud,” he says, wiping his sweaty hands against the fabric of his jeans.

The fading sound of Maud and Pieter’s steps and a door closing leaves him all alone in the sparse room.

He hopes he looks good enough for you. His dark blue jeans are presentable enough, his plain gray v neck is clean, he thanks himself for spritzing himself with a dash of cologne before leaving his hotel. He knows he paid the equivalent of close to $450 for you to like him, but he still wants to impress you.

He checks his watch, five minutes have passed. He’s too afraid to bring his phone out, so he just stares forward, nervously tapping his foot.

This wasn’t his plan at all, he was just going to explore and sightsee, nothing more. No drugs, no sex, just curiosity.

The door opens. Pieter appears.

“Irises is ready,” he announces, his accent thick. “Follow me.”

He tentatively trails Pieter through the door walking down a hallway lined with doors. Ornate golden frames hang with Van Gogh pieces in each one. They reach the door with Irises hung next to it.

“Twenty minutes,” Pieter says flatly, opening the door. “Sit in the chair. Do not touch. You watch.”

Marcus nods, his heart slamming against his chest. His knees almost buckle as he steps inside the room.

It’s dark, save for a single spotlight shining down on a small stage, a lone purple velvet high back chair sits waiting for him in the middle of it. His shaky legs take him up the three steps before he lowers into it, hands clenching the wide armrests, trying to control his breathing.

He shouldn't be here–-he knows that. It’s too late for regrets now.

The click-clack of your heels echoes through the room when you step onto the stage. He’s too nervous to turn his head to see you. His body tenses, anticipation coiling all of his muscles tight. When you finally step in front of him, he has to remind himself to breathe.

You’re beautiful, the light catches on the sheer fabric of your dress. He can just make out the curves of your body, naked under light lavender chiffon. Your eyes are lined with deep purple eyeliner, ending into a cat eye at the corners. Your ruby red lips curl up into a knowing smile, almost as if you can see his desire for you.

Four thousand miles away from home and he’s just found the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. His cock begins to thicken, the shame of his paid for voyeurism adventure dissolving from his mind. You’re finer than any masterpiece he’s ever had to investigate.

“Hi Bravo,” you purr, your voice smooth and teasing, “Do you wanna touch me?”

He nods and coughs nervously. “Y-yes. But, I can’t.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips. “Good boy.”

His back tightens, a wave of heat flows down his spine and settles in his lap. For too long he’s disallowed himself from feeling this type of pleasure. Too busy, too sad, too heartbroken. What led him here feels like a blur. An exchange of glances, a subtle wink, an invitation. The black door, €400 out of his wallet, a white room, an open red velvet book, the long hallway, Irises. He allows himself to enjoy the experience just as you send him a wink.

You’re like his own little gallery show standing in front of him. A piece of art he doesn’t just want to see–but memorize.

—

You’ve only been doing this for a few months now. It really is the perfect side hustle to support yourself while finishing your art degree. You’ve been enamored with Van Gogh’s art since you were a child, a lifelong dream realized when you were accepted into the student exchange program at the University of Amsterdam. You made it possible, and now, working two nights a week in between coursework, you're making more than most of your friends earn in an entire week. Of course, only a select few know what you really mean when you say you work at a very exclusive gallery.

It’s a good job. Maud takes good care of you, vetting those who enter her establishment with her keen client recruiters on the streets. Pieter is always a buzz away, though you’ve never felt danger. Everyone needs an escape, some just agree to pay a premium for it. They call it the oldest profession for a reason.

Bravo. He’s your last customer tonight, and they sure did save the best for last. You watched him approach on the security camera, a smile formed when you noticed how much he resembled your favorite actor, you had plans for him. His wide shoulders, broad body, thin beard, and perfect head of hair almost made you think it was him, if it wasn’t for his eyes flickering around the room nervously. There’s no way Dieter Bravo would be anxious in this type of situation.

You press play on the stereo. A quick drumbeat starts, your steps keep tempo with it as you come back to stand in front of your client.

Turning around and bending over, your hips dance to the beat of the song as your hands roam along your curves, lifting your dress to give him a peek of your thighs and ass. A low groan rumbles behind you.

“Do you like what you see?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, moving your hands up and down your body.

“Y-yes,” he stammers, his nervous eyes wide and plush lips parted.

Those same nervous eyes watch as you bunch the fabric of your dress up and take it off, tossing it aside. He eyes you, brows furrowed in concentration, eyes exploring all of you like you’re a painting hanging in a gallery.

You cup your breasts, feeling the velvety warmth of your skin beneath your fingers as the purple of your nail polish brushes against your hardened nipples. Slowly you tilt your head down and let a trail of spit fall to one nipple.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask, pinching and pulling the sensitive peaks of your nipples. “Mmph–mmhmm,” he groans, nervously shuffling in his seat.

Bending forward and placing your hands on his knees gives him the perfect view of your breasts. A long sigh comes from him, his eyes planted on your tits. You like what you’re doing to him, you never start your dances off this close to a client, but you can’t resist him.

When your hands trail up to his thick thighs, the bulge of his pants makes your mouth water, tempting you to move towards it. Not yet.

Leaning closer, you nuzzle against the warmth of his neck. He smells delicious… like eucalyptus and maple syrup. His quickening breaths puff out against your hair. You taste his skin with your tongue, licking your way up to his ear.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask along with the song.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters.

Pulling away, you wink before turning your back to him and delicately sit atop his lap. Sinking down against his broad chest, the heat radiating off him burns hot against your back. The song changes just as you feel the poke of his erection against your ass.

A poppy beat soundtracks your movements as you grind yourself against the heft of him, falling back, placing your head against his wide chest. Reaching back, your hands tangle in his soft hair, humming sweetly along to the sound, letting a few lyrics slip out of your mouth.

“I bet you we’d really have good bed chem”

Your client follows directions very well, staying perfectly still, gripping the armrests so hard the golden skin around his knuckles turn white. You rub yourself against the rough fabric of his jeans, getting off on the quiet whimpers he leaves in your ear.

RING. The fifteen minute bell rings.

“And I bet it’s even better than in my head”

You rise off his lap and bend over clasping your hands around your ankles, giving him the perfect view of your ass and dripping core. The song fades out, a deeper, sultrier drumbeat begins.

“Like you, like you, ooh, I found it hard to find someone like you”

Your body gently sways along to the slow, sultry beat, and when you flip your head back to glance at him, he lets a low groan out. Placing your hands on the floor, you walk them out ahead of you before you’re on all fours, spreading your legs wide to show him even more of your glistening pussy.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask, settling on your stomach, snaking a hand between your wide spread legs.

“Y-yes,” he huffs.

“I know you do Bravo,” you tilt your hips up hovering them above the ground, “let me show you how I like it.”

Your middle finger enters your soaked entrance as your thumb gently dusts light circles against your clit. Your hips move in beat to the heavy rhythm of the song.

“Oh god,” he pants, when you stick another finger in, the chair creaking underneath his tensity.

RING. The ten minute bell rings.

Choreography, that’s the business term for what you’re doing. It’s all timed out, you hear these songs at least ten times every work day. Though you never sit on your clients as close as you did with Bravo, you never taste their skin like you did with Bravo. He deserves more than the same memorized steps, something better than the repetition you offer all of the others.

The song changes, signaling you to start your new routine, you ignore the cue, rolling onto your back, arching slightly, your eyes meet his. His hands remain clamped on to the armrests, fingers digging into the velvet. He’s trembling with restraint, beads of sweat glistening on his skin. His erection swells, the tight fabric of his pants tenting.

“Do you wanna touch me Bravo?”

“I do,” he whines, the lines of his neck straining as his head thuds against the back of the chair.

“Okay, okay baby,” you sit up, turning to crawl towards him. Your eyes don’t leave his.

“And I can be all the things you told me not to be

When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing”

Kneeling on your knees in front of him, you unlock one of his clutched hands, moving it to the soft skin of your breast.

“N-no touching I thought,” he stammers, his hand laying flat against your skin.

“I make my own rules, it’s okay Bravo,” you allow, grabbing his other hand and placing it on you.

He groans when he cups your breasts in his hands. You watch the tendons of his strong hand tense and release as he cups your breasts and massages them in his hold. He’s mesmerized by his movements, like he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you.

Your hand teases its way up his leg to the warmth of the apex of his thighs before gripping him, thick and hard underneath the constraints of his jeans.

“Oh fuck,” he growls. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re so beautiful.”

His words of adoration fall out of his mouth, eyes still locked on your tits covered by his hands.

You unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as the choir sings God is a woman.

The song changes.

“You got, you got the cinema”

Your eyes light at the sight of his cock, standing tall and thick, precum leaking from the engorged tip. It’s just as beautiful and wide as the rest of your client.

Bravo lets out a garbled groan when you wrap your hand around his length, slowly pumping him along to the song. Up, down, up, down, the sexy beat soundtracking your movements.

RING. RING. The five minute bell rings. Your client doesn’t seem to heed the warning, only focusing on his thumbs swiping back and forth against the peaks of your nipples and your hand stroking the smooth silk of his cock.

“Touch me Bravo,” you rise, lifting a foot up on the armrest, keeping hold of his pulsing dick in your hand. “Give me two of your fingers.”

His eyes gaze down to your dripping cunt, watching himself as his hand sweeps down your body before parting your folds.

You got, you got the cinema

Your hips undulate to the tempo of the song as he sticks two of his long, thick fingers into your heat.

“God damn,” he mutters incredulously, “you’re so wet.”

The song changes.

A steady and slow funky guitar plays along with a soulful choir. It’s soft and romantic, exactly what you like to close down your shows with. You’ve never ended a show like this, your hand wrapped around your client’s wide cock, and your pussy clenching around two of his thick fingers. His thumb begins sweeping back and forth against your clit, he may have found himself at a brothel in Amsterdam, but your client has done this before. Perfect movements, perfect angle, you stare down in reverie at the focus he holds, watching himself touch you. His adoration of your body heats your core, lighting an orgasm just as beautiful as the song that plays.

“Fuck baby,” you pant, “I’m gonna cum.”

He blinks up to you, brown eyes staring intensely into yours when you bite your lip and send a gush of wet against his fingers. Your legs turn shaky, as your clit pulses against his thumb that blesses your sensitive bub with just the right amount of pressure. Moving his hand from between your thighs, he holds it up, marveling at the sight of your juices shining against his skin. You send him a smile as your leg drops to the floor, the rest of your body following, kneeling in front of him. He still stares at his hand, watching the strings of your orgasm stretch across his widely spread fingers.

“Smear it on your cock for me,” you say, planting both hands on his thighs.

He groans and nods before rubbing the remnants of your orgasm on his shaft. He shouts an indistinguishable sound when you lick a line up to his tip, tasting yourself and the salty tang of his precum. Your lips envelop the fat tip of him, sucking and slobbering your way down the thick length of him.

The song ends, the playlist repeats. The same quick drumbeat of the first song plays loudly.

You suck him to the beat, flicking your tongue against his tip with each “YEAH!” of the song.

RING. RING. RING. The final bells ring, signaling that your client should have left by now.

Bravo locks up. Your mouth unclasps from his cock.

“It’s okay,” you assure, “we have a word for–”

A heavy knock lands against the door.

“Driehoek (triangle) Pieter! I’m good in here, thanks!”

Three rapid knocks–softer now–signal Pieter’s departure.

“You guys really have it all fig–oh god,” he moans, when you take his cock back into your mouth.

His strong legs shake against your body as your cheeks hollow, taking him into your mouth faster and harder, his hips thrusting up to meet your mouth. Drool leaks out of the sides of your mouth, your eyes stare up at him blinking back tears as he reaches the back of your throat. You don’t know if he’s ever allowed himself this much freedom, it feels like you’ve unlocked something deep within him with the way he’s snarling and grunting “Irises” over and over.

“G-gonna–yeah–yeah–cum,” he gasps, hips stuttering and chair creaking as he spills into your accepting mouth.

Bravo, client. Bravo.

—

He can’t believe he just did that. He just–he–he just– came in the mouth of a complete stranger–nay–a prostitute. You told him you’ve never done something like that with a client as you tossed him a towel… and the funny thing is he actually believes you.

You shuffle back into the see through lilac dress as he zips his jeans back up. You really are the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, even if your purple eyeliner is now streaked from the tears that sprung in your eyes from gagging on his cock. Wow, that did just happen.

You leave a kiss against his cheek and open the door for him. Pieter escorts him out the back entrance with a knowing smile.

He walks back to his hotel, a new man with a clearer mind. Marcus really doesn’t feel the shame he expected he would. He knows a fine piece of art, and you just might be the finest he’s ever seen.

#marcus pike #pedro pascal #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fan fic #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #fucktober #birthdaybaroness #pedro pascal fanfic

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home-based-job-women-qween · 14 days ago

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Addressing Challenges Women Face in Digital Networking

In today's interconnected world, networking is no longer confined to physical events. Digital platforms have opened doors for professionals to connect, collaborate, and grow. Yet, women often encounter unique challenges in this space.

Challenges Women Face in Digital Networking

Lack of Confidence Women often second-guess their worthiness to approach peers or industry leaders online. Fear of rejection or judgment can hold them back from reaching out.

Gender Bias Even in digital spaces, women face stereotypes. Professional achievements can sometimes be undermined, and networking may take on a personal tone rather than staying professional.

Limited Time Balancing work, family, and personal commitments often leaves little room for networking. Women may find it challenging to prioritize building connections when time is scarce.

Navigating Safe Spaces Not all digital platforms provide a secure environment for women to express themselves openly or reach out for opportunities without fear of harassment.

Lack of Mentorship Digital networking often lacks the personal touch of mentorship that women need to navigate their careers. The absence of a structured support system can make the process feel isolating.

How Qween Helps Women Overcome These Challenges

Providing an Inclusive and Empowering Community Qween is designed to be a safe space where women can connect without fear of bias or judgment. The platform fosters inclusivity, ensuring women feel welcomed and valued.

Curating Opportunities By offering diverse job postings, skill-building programs, and networking events, Qween simplifies the journey of professional growth.

Encouraging Confidence through Mentorship Qween provides access to mentors who guide women in building meaningful connections and growing their careers.

Digital networking is a powerful tool, but women need a platform that addresses their unique challenges and empowers them to succeed. Qween bridges this gap by creating an environment where women can thrive, connect, and achieve their dreams without limitations.

If you're looking to build your professional network, explore new opportunities, or simply find a community that understands and supports you, Qween is here to help.

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mariacallous · 4 months ago

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Her trans daughter made the volleyball team. Then an armed officer showed up.

Jessica Norton eased her minivan out of the driveway, and she told herself she’d done what any mother would. Her daughter Elizabeth had wanted to play high school volleyball, and Norton had let her. Norton had written female on the permission slips. She’d run practice drills in the yard, and she’d driven this minivan to matches all across their suburban Florida county.

A bumper sticker on the back said “mom.” A rainbow pin tacked inside read “safe with me.” Norton and Elizabeth had spent hours laughing and singing in this extended cab chariot. But this time, Norton had decided to leave her daughter at home.

“Good luck!” the teenager called. “Don’t get fired!”

Until recently, Norton had worked at the high school Elizabeth attended. But last fall, an armed officer with the Broward County Public Schools Police had told Norton she was under investigation for allowing Elizabeth to play girls sports. District leaders banned Norton from the building. They discussed the investigation on the local news, and soon, everyone in Coconut Creek seemed to know Elizabeth is transgender. (Norton asked The Washington Post to use the child’s middle name to protect her privacy.)

In the nine months since, school officials had talked about Elizabeth as if she were dangerous, but Norton knew they couldn’t possibly be picturing the 16-year-old who stood at the edge of the driveway in Taylor Swift Crocs. This girl loved Squishmallows and Disney World. She had long red hair, and she was so skinny, the principal described her to investigators as “frail.”

Elizabeth didn’t have an advantage, Norton thought. She was a normal teenage girl, and yet her very existence had thrust them into one of the nation’s most contentious debates.

Over the last few years, half the country, including Florida, had banned trans girls from playing on girls teams. Proponents of the laws argued that they were fighting for fairness, and the debate had spilled into the stands with an anger that worried Norton. Critics called trans competitors “cheats.” Crowds booed teenage athletes. And some spectators had begun eyeing cisgender competitors for signs of masculinity.

For all that fury, though, no one had been punished yet under one of the bans. Soon, Norton feared, she might become the first. The Broward County School Board planned to take up her case that afternoon, and the agenda included only one proposed outcome: termination.

Norton drove toward her fate and felt nauseous. This life had not been the one she envisioned, but she’d done all she could to ensure it was a good one for her daughter. And she’d succeeded. Before the investigation, Elizabeth had been happy. She’d been a homecoming princess and class president two years in a row. She had friends, near-perfect grades and blue eyes that lit up when she talked about the future.

Now, Elizabeth stayed home and read hateful comments on the internet. She didn’t play sports. She hadn’t been back to Monarch High School.

Norton wanted the light in her daughter’s eyes back. She wanted Elizabeth to have prom and graduation, senior pictures, all the little hallmarks of a teenage life. But first, Norton told herself, she had to fight for her job. She had to return to the school district that shunned her, then somehow she had to convince Elizabeth it was safe for her to go back, too.

Norton was born in Florida in the mid-1970s. She grew up hearing about gay people and drag queens, but the first time she learned about trans children, she was skeptical.

It was 2007. Norton was pregnant with Elizabeth, and she’d turned on the television. Barbara Walters was interviewing a 6-year-old girl she described as “one of the youngest known cases of an early transition from male to female.”

The girl, Jazz Jennings, was cute, Norton thought, but the dispatch unsettled her. How could someone that young know anything about their gender? How could a parent let their kid change their name and appearance?

When Norton gave birth that October, her husband, Gary, picked out a boy’s name, and she bought blue onesies. But almost as soon as Elizabeth could talk, she told her parents she was a girl.

At first, Norton thought their child was confused or maybe gay. Elizabeth begged to wear pink, and she threw tantrums when Norton called her a boy. They fought over backpacks and lunch boxes, school uniforms, haircuts. Norton tried to explain the difference between boys’ and girls’ bodies, but Elizabeth never relented.

“I’m a girl,” she said.

One day in 2013, while Elizabeth was at kindergarten, Norton turned on the TV, and she saw Jazz again. The little girl had a lot in common with Elizabeth. They both loved mermaids. They liked sports, and they seemed to know exactly who they were. Ever since Jazz could talk, her mother said, she had been “consistent, persistent and insistent” that she was a girl.

Oh my god, Norton thought. My kid isn’t gay. My kid is transgender.

Norton collapsed into her couch and sobbed. She didn’t know how to raise a trans child. What if she let Elizabeth transition, then Elizabeth decided she wasn’t a girl? What if someone hurt her?

Norton kept trying to raise Elizabeth as a boy, but eventually, she grew tired of fighting. One afternoon, when Elizabeth was 5 or 6, she asked to wear one of her sister’s outfits to a concert and Norton said yes.

Elizabeth picked a teal ruffle shirt dress with a leopard print. She pulled on a pair of leggings, and when they got to the show, she skipped down the street. Norton had never seen her look that happy.

Though those early years felt hard, South Florida turned out to be an easy place to raise a trans child. The Nortons live in Broward County, a left-leaning community that includes Fort Lauderdale, and its school district was among the first in the United States to adopt a nondiscrimination policy for gender identity. In 2014, when Elizabeth was in first grade, the district released an LGBTQ critical support guide, a wide-ranging document that affirmed trans students’ right to play on sports teams that aligned with their identity.

The superintendent hosted “LGBTQ roundtables” to help parents whose kids were gay or trans. Norton recalled that at one meeting in 2016, she asked if it was possible to change Elizabeth’s name and gender marker on her school records, and he told her yes. (The superintendent later told investigators and The Post he does not remember this conversation, but other people who attended submitted affidavits affirming Norton’s recollection.)

Norton was so excited, she went to Elizabeth’s school that day and asked the assistant principal to make the change.

Norton has always been an involved parent. She volunteered a few times a week at the schools Elizabeth and her two older children attended, and the experience was so positive, she decided she wanted to work in education, too. In the spring of 2017, Monarch High School posted a $15-an-hour job for a library media clerk, and Norton applied even though the job paid $13,000 a year less than she earned as a cake decorator at Publix.

A few months after Norton started, she learned the school board was considering a resolution to create an LGBT history month. Elizabeth said she wanted to testify, so they spent a weekend writing a speech together.

Norton was nervous as they headed inside, but Elizabeth rocked on her heels, excited. She wore her favorite teal dress and a purple headband, and she smiled with all her teeth showing as she and her parents approached the podium.

“I openly transitioned two years ago,” Elizabeth said. “It was the best time of my life. I got to be who I was born to be.”

Elizabeth was 10 then. She’d always had a beautiful face, and people never seemed to look at her and see anything other than girl, but as the school year wore on, she told Norton she worried what would happen once she started puberty.

Norton found a pediatric endocrinologist, and the doctor prescribed a monthly testosterone-blocking shot. As long as Elizabeth took the injection, her voice wouldn’t deepen, she wouldn’t grow facial hair and her body wouldn’t become more muscular the way a boy’s would.

After Elizabeth finished elementary school, she told Norton she didn’t want people to know she was trans. Her new middle school pulled from three elementaries, and most of the kids there had no idea she had ever used another name. She told Norton she wanted to be “a basic White girl,” the kind who wore leggings and drank pumpkin spice lattes, and Norton understood. Most middle-schoolers want to blend in.

The coronavirus shut down schools the next spring, and Elizabeth spent the rest of sixth grade and part of seventh learning online. But Florida was among the first states to reopen, and when Lyons Creek officials announced students could return, they also welcomed kids to try out for sports teams.

Elizabeth was ecstatic. She went everywhere that fall with a volleyball in her hand. She tossed it in the house, and she used the garage door as a rebounder to practice her jump serve. But when she tried out for the team, she didn’t make it past the first cut.

She came home disappointed and told Norton she wanted to get better. Norton didn’t know how to play, but she offered to help. They spent most of the next year in the street outside their house, running “pepper” drills where two people pass, set and hit the ball back and forth.

Norton’s wrists stung by the end of their sessions, but Elizabeth always seemed more energized. Next year, Elizabeth vowed, she would make the team.

As Elizabeth headed into the yard each night, volleyball in hand, she believed the only thing that could keep her off a team was her own ability.

For much of her life, all the big sports associations allowed trans athletes to compete, and most states did, too. Some required athletes to show proof they were taking hormones or blockers, but a dozen states, including Florida, had no restrictions at all. As long as a student could show their gender identity was consistent, they could play.

Trans people represent less than 1 percent of the country’s population, and for decades, state lawmakers rarely mentioned them. But as gay people won protections and the right to marry, LGTBQ+ rights groups and right-wing leaders began looking for new issues to galvanize supporters. Both turned their attention to trans rights.

The community was slowly becoming more visible. Trans people ran for office and appeared on TV, and 17 million people watched as Caitlyn Jenner came out on “20/20.” Trans athletes almost never dominated. But between 2017 and 2019, two trans girls beat cisgender competitors at state track meets in Connecticut, and leading conservative Christian groups warned that other girls would lose athletic opportunities if trans girls continued to compete.

Over the next few years, Florida and two dozen other states passed nearly identical bans on trans girls in sports. Many Republican lawmakers spoke about trans athletes as if they were all the same — tall and muscular, physically dominant, grown men cross-dressing for the sake of a secondary school athletic win. The bill sponsors didn’t mention trans girls who never went through puberty. They hardly ever talked about children like Elizabeth who tried and failed to make a seventh grade team. By 2023, multiple polls, including one by The Post and KFF, found that two-thirds of Americans agreed that trans girls should not be allowed to play girls sports.

Trans athletes remain very rare. A 2021 Associated Press analysis of 20 proposed state bans found that legislators in most couldn’t point to a single trans athlete in their own region. And in Florida, state records show that just two trans girls have played girls sports over the last decade — a bowler who graduated in 2019 and Elizabeth.

Norton doesn’t follow the news, but a friend told her about Florida’s ban the summer before Elizabeth started eighth grade, so Norton went online to read the details. The statute doesn’t list any penalties for young athletes. Instead, it allows competitors who feel they’ve been harmed by a trans athlete to sue that student’s school.

Norton thought Elizabeth might be okay. She had started estrogen by then, and few people knew she was trans. Plus, Coconut Creek still seemed like a safe place. Two weeks after Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) signed the bill, in June 2021, the Broward County School Board unanimously adopted a resolution opposing the ban.

Still, Norton wanted assurance. That summer, with backing from the LGBTQ+ advocacy group Human Rights Campaign Foundation, Norton filed a pseudonymous lawsuit challenging the Fairness in Women’s Sports Act. She didn’t mention any schools. She didn’t use her last name, and she didn’t list Elizabeth’s name.

Norton assumed she’d prevail. A federal judge appointed by President Donald Trump in Idaho had already ruled that that state’s ban was likely unconstitutional and did nothing to ensure the fairness of girls sports.

Norton and Elizabeth never talked about the lawsuit. Instead, they watched the Tokyo Summer Olympics, and Elizabeth fell even more in love with volleyball. As they streamed the Games, Norton researched, and she learned that the International Olympic Committee allowed trans girls and women to compete as long as their testosterone levels were low and they’d identified as female for four years. Elizabeth met all those qualifications. Because she started puberty blockers before her body began making testosterone, her hormone levels looked like any other girl’s.

Though research on the subject remains limited,multiple studies have found that testosterone is the only driver of athletic differences between the sexes. The hormone can give a person a larger physical stature, denser bones and a greater capacity to build muscle. Without it, a trans girl like Elizabeth likely has no physical advantage, researchers have found.

Florida’s new law didn’t make sense to Norton. Elizabeth could compete at the Olympics, but state lawmakers didn’t want her on a middle school team.

Norton had Elizabeth’s birth certificate amended that year, and by the time Elizabeth started eighth grade, she was legally female. When she asked to try out for volleyball again, Norton filled out the paperwork. Next to “sex,” Norton wrote “F.”

When Elizabeth made the cut, she rushed out to tell Norton. She was shocked. She’d been afraid to really hit the ball, she said. She’d tapped it, and the coach had urged her to play harder.

They celebrated at a sports grill, and Elizabeth was too excited to eat. She’d wanted to be on a team with other girls, and now she was.

Elizabeth started high school the next year. She was good enough to make the varsity volleyball team, but she rarely left the bench, and Monarch lost more matches than it won that season. Still, she loved playing. The coach later told the South Florida Sun-Sentinel that Elizabeth “brought an energy” to the team. Other players described her as the team “favorite.”

By then, Norton had become the school’s information management specialist, and she took on a slew of extra jobs to help kids with their student service hours and senior class activities. Norton was so busy, she largely forgot about the lawsuit she’d filed. Her lawyer called her every few months to give her an update, but she didn’t understand much of what he said.

Elizabeth won a starting spot as the volleyball team’s middle blocker her sophomore year. She was 5-foot-8, one of the team’s tallest players, so the coach put her near the net to play defense. She scored a few points over the course of the season, but she wasn’t a hitter. Players need a lot of power to spike a ball the other team can’t return. Elizabeth was 112 pounds and not especially muscular.

Monarch made it to the district semifinals, but its season ended that October with a 3-0 loss to Stoneman Douglas. MaxPreps ranked Monarch 218th out of the state’s 300 girls’ volleyball teams.

Three weeks later, a Trump-appointed district judge dismissed Norton’s lawsuit. The law was not discriminatory, U.S. District Judge Roy Altman found, because it didn’t apply to all transgender students. Trans boys could still play boys sports, he noted.

When the lawyer called to tell Norton the news, she felt the briefest flash of panic. Oh no, she thought. What if they come after me?

Later that month, at the tail end of Thanksgiving break, a work friend asked Norton if she’d seen the email an assistant principal had sent. Norton tried to look, but her school email had stopped working.

There’s a mandatory meeting tomorrow morning, the friend said. It sounds serious.

Norton felt uneasy as she drove Elizabeth to school the next day. She’d heard rumors that some of the boys on the football team lived outside of the district, and she worried she’d be held accountable because her job included overseeing student records.

At the all-staff meeting, an administrator explained that the district had reassigned the school’s principal pending an investigation. Norton felt confused. Everyone liked the principal. He seemed like a stand-up guy, not at all the kind of person who would break district policies.

After the meeting, Norton’s manager told her the school district’s police chief needed to talk to her. Norton met the chief and a school district representative in the principal’s office, and she felt intimidated. The officer was armed. He sat next to Norton, then handed her a written notice and told her she was under investigation.

The notice was inscrutable, just a run of numbers and legalese. Norton told the chief she didn’t understand, and he said she had caused Monarch to break the Fairness in Women’s Sports Act.

Elizabeth, Norton thought. They’re going to ruin my child’s life.

The chief told Norton she was banned from the high school and would have to turn in her keys and laptop, but he assured her the investigation was confidential. No one would know Elizabeth was the reason Norton was in trouble unless Norton told them herself.

Norton spent the next two hours panicking. She called her lawyer, but she was too inconsolable to make out whole sentences. What if she lost her job? What if someone went after Elizabeth?

Just before 11 a.m., Elizabeth texted. She’d looked on the location-tracking app Life360 and seen Norton was at home. Their pet boxer Walter had been sick all weekend, and Elizabeth worried the dog had taken a turn for the worse.

“You’re scaring me,” Elizabeth wrote. “Is Walter OK?”

Norton paced the living room. It took her 20 minutes to work up the nerve, but finally, she called Elizabeth and told her Walter was fine.

Elizabeth asked if Norton had done something wrong, and when Norton said no, Elizabeth asked what happened.

“I don’t want to tell you,” Norton said.

“It has to do with me, doesn’t it?” Elizabeth asked.

She started sobbing before Norton could answer. She asked Norton to pick her up, but Norton told her she wasn’t allowed. A few minutes after they got off the phone, a school employee called. Elizabeth had gone missing.

“Where is she?” the woman asked. “It’s all over the news. Everyone knows.”

Norton checked Life360, and she could see that Elizabeth had left Monarch. Norton asked her husband, Gary, to pick their daughter up, and when they arrived home, Elizabeth ate a pint of ice cream and Gary turned on the news.

A local station called it a “campus controversy.” Reporters said that Norton, the principal and three others had been reassigned because they allowed a transgender student to play volleyball.

News crews showed pictures of Norton and footage of Elizabeth’s team. The reporters didn’t say Elizabeth’s name,but the district released Norton’s, and everyone at school knew Norton had a daughter on the volleyball team.

The phone rang. Norton didn’t recognize the number, so she rejected it, and a man left a snickering voice message.

“So you got a son who likes to sneak into women’s bathrooms?” he asked.

Neither Norton nor Elizabeth left the house the next day. They hid while reporters knocked on the front door, and they watched TV. The local news reported that hundreds of Monarch students had walked out to protest the district’s decision.

Elizabeth was allowed to go back any time, but she told Norton she was scared. What if everyone looked at her, searching for signs of boy where they once saw girl? And what if someone tried to beat her up?

Elizabeth had never been quick to talk about her feelings, but in the weeks that followed, Norton could sense something had changed. Elizabeth spent hours in bed. She told Norton she didn’t care about any of it but pored over online comments about what had happened. That December, Norton’s older daughter came home for the holidays, and she told Norton she could hear Elizabeth through their shared wall. Elizabeth wasn’t sleeping. She was awake, sobbing.

The investigation began that winter. District officials sent Norton to do janitorial work and manual labor at a warehouse, then they interviewed people about Elizabeth. In late January, two officers questioned Norton. They pressed her about the day in 2016 she asked Elizabeth’s elementary school to change her gender marker.

Norton told them every detail she could remember, but she didn’t understand why they were asking. She hadn’t even worked for the school district then. She was just a parent, and as far as she understood, she hadn’t done anything illegal.

A few weeks later, an officer brought Norton a redacted copy of the investigation, then told her a professional standards committee would recommend a punishment within a few months.

Norton read the document at her dining room table, and she felt angry as she made her way through. The then-superintendent had told reporters that an anonymous constituent had called the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and told him a trans girl was playing on the volleyball team. But the informant wasn’t just a constituent, Norton learned. He was a Broward County School Board member. (The former superintendent could not be reached for comment.)

The board had changed considerably in the five years since Elizabeth had testified and thanked its members for keeping her safe. DeSantis had removed several elected board members and replaced them with his own delegates.

The investigation showed that one of DeSantis’s appointees asked the district to investigate Norton. The volleyball season was over by the time Daniel Foganholi reported Elizabeth, but Foganholi told investigators he had received an anonymous phone call “advising that a male student was playing female sports at Monarch High School.” (Foganholi did not respond to requests for comment.)

The investigators’ report was more than 500 pages long, and it took Norton a few days to finish reading. Nearly every page angered her. The officers had spent considerable time trying to find out what Elizabeth looked like. They asked a district administrator to comb Elizabeth’s files and tell them how much she weighed every year between 2013 and 2017. They pushed multiple adults to describe her physically, and they asked three girls on the volleyball team if they’d ever seen Elizabeth undressed. No, the girls said. No one ever used the locker room.

The investigation included transcripts of every interview the officers conducted, and as Norton read, she saw that the officers had repeatedly called Elizabeth “he” in those discussions. On two occasions, the transcripts showed, one detective called Elizabeth “it.” (The investigation is a public document, and The Post reviewed this document and 200 other pages related to the investigation.)

A week before they interviewed Norton, the file showed, they talked to Elizabeth’s middle school guidance counselor, and they asked her to tell them about Elizabeth’s transition. The counselor said she was worried she’d break the law if she did, but an officer told her she wouldn’t.

“No,” the officer said. “I am the law.”

As Norton neared the end of the document, she realized at least some district leaders had known Elizabeth was transgender long before Thanksgiving break. The investigation showed that in 2021, three weeks after Norton filed the lawsuit, the district’s lawyer asked for Elizabeth’s records.

What changed, Norton wondered? Why was the district investigating her now?

Winter turned to spring, and Elizabeth did not return to Monarch. She’d only go back, she said, if Norton went, too.

Norton enrolled Elizabeth in virtual school, but she rarely did more than an hour of classwork. Mostly, she played “Fortnite.” In the game, no one knew what was going on at her school. She was just a girl, spinning across the screen in pink hair and a Nike jumpsuit.

By spring, she was failing geometry. Norton spent most of her time at the book warehouse where she’d been reassigned, but one day in early April, she called in sick so she could spend time with Elizabeth.

Norton waited most of the morning, but Elizabeth didn’t emerge from her room. Finally, at noon, Norton knocked, then pushed Elizabeth’s door open. She was asleep, tucked into a pair of purple floral sheets she’d bought at Target after seeing the same set in a Taylor Swift video.

“Wake up,” Norton said. “We’re going to lunch.”

They drove to a Cheesecake Factory a few minutes from their house. Elizabeth barely talked. After they finished, Norton asked if she wanted to go to Sephora to buy the pistachio-scented Brazilian Crush perfume they both wore.

“Just in and out, okay?” Elizabeth said. “School is getting out soon.”

They made it maybe 20 feet before two teenagers waved. Elizabeth swung right, then disappeared, but Norton didn’t have on her glasses, so she didn’t notice the girls until they were right in front of her.

“Mrs. Norton!” one said. “We miss you!”

Norton scanned the street, but she didn’t see Elizabeth. She wished the girls luck in school, then she found Elizabeth hiding in a row of eyebrow pencils. The perfume was too expensive, Elizabeth said. She left without buying anything.

On the way home, they drove past Monarch, and Norton teared up. She suddenly understood all that Elizabeth might lose. Every year, the seniors paint their parking spots. Elizabeth had already made plans to decorate hers with lyrics from Taylor Swift’s “You’re on Your Own, Kid,” but now, Norton thought, she might never paint one. She probably wouldn’t go to prom. She wouldn’t take senior pictures. She wouldn’t give the graduation speech she’d already started writing.

When they got home late that evening, a certified letter was waiting. Ultimately, the school board would decide Norton’s fate, but the letter said the committee had reviewed the investigative report, and they’d found sufficient evidence to show Norton had broken Florida law.

“The disciplinary recommendation,” it said, “is a termination.”

Norton’s high school salary had always covered their necessities and little else. She worried she’d soon lose even that, so as the investigation dragged on, she took a side job selling merchandise at concerts across South Florida. The Friday night before her scheduled board hearing, she was working a Carlos Santana show when a friend texted to say the board had removed Norton’s name from the Tuesday agenda.

Norton’s stomach sank. She was tired of being silent. She decided she would go to the meeting. She would sign up for public testimony, and she’d tell the school board what had happened to her daughter.

As Norton and her husband sat in the audience that Tuesday, she could feel her heart rate climb. She looked down at her Apple Watch: 110, 120.She worried she might have a heart attack before she reached the podium.

The board reappointed dozens of employees, memorialized three young students, then finally, two hours into the meeting, they called Norton’s name.

She and her husband walked to the microphone, and Norton smoothed her floral dress.

“We are here to speak for our family and tell you how careless actions by the district’s leadership have affected our daughter and our family,” she said.

She had waited 203 days for an answer, she told them. She had done manual labor. She had answered every question, and she had sat through an interview where a detective refused to use her daughter’s legal name or gender.

Norton teared up as she spoke. Her daughter was an innocent 16-year-old girl, she said. Yes, she had played volleyball, but she had done so much more at Monarch. Her peers had chosen her for the homecoming court and student government. She had been flourishing, Norton said, but the district’s investigation had ruined that.

“It’s okay if I’m the villain in their story,” she said, “because I’m the hero in my daughter’s story.”

Things started to change after Norton’s speech. The district set a new hearing for late July, and a number of school board members told the South Florida Sun-Sentinel they didn’t want to fire Norton.

On her way to the final meeting, Norton fiddled anxiously with the minivan’s stereo. As part of an earlier board discussion, one member had asked for other employee discipline data. A reporter had posted the findings that morning while Jessica did her makeup. Adults who’d abused children had served one- and five-day suspensions. A teacher who’d slapped a child received a letter of reprimand.

“They’re recommending a harsher punishment for me than for people who abused kids,” Norton told her husband as she drove.

A dozen people registered to speak. Former students told the board Norton was the reason they made it to college. Most people asked the board not to fire her, but as Norton watched, she couldn’t tell what the district officials might do.

Some said the investigation was flawed. They described Norton as a scapegoat and said Elizabeth had suffered enough. But the chair, a former stay-at-home mom who joined the board after her daughter was killed in the Parkland shooting, said she believed any employee who breaks the law should be punished.

Like the investigation itself, much of the board’s discussion centered on the day Norton asked Elizabeth’s elementary school to change her records. Though Norton hadn’t worked at the district then, Brenda Fam, a board member who had criticized trans people online and in previous meetings, said she thought Norton “inappropriately requested and pressured” school employees.

“I think what happened is criminal,” Fam said. “Norton’s efforts to change her child’s gender have stemmed back to the second grade.”

Fam repeatedly referred to Elizabeth as Norton’s “son.” After the third or fourth time, Norton started to think maybe she didn’t want to go back to Monarch. How could she work for a school board that intentionally misgendered her child?

Norton walked out of the auditorium. Outside, she loaded a stream ofthe meeting on her phone and waited for a decision. The board members were split on what they wanted, but half an hour later, a narrow majority agreed to suspend Norton for 10 days, then move her to a different job where she no longer has access to records.

A scrum of reporters circled Norton and her husband. Norton was proud she hadn’t backed down, but she told them she wasn’t sure what to do now. She had fought for 11 years to keep Elizabeth safe in school. She would do whatever she had to do next to keep her safe still.

“Am I remorseful for protecting my child?” she asked. “Absolutely not.”

The school district told Norton in late August she wouldn’t go back to Monarch. Instead, she’d do clerical work at a nonschool site. Norton didn’t want to leave Elizabeth, but she needed money, so she accepted the job.

The family spent one of Norton’s last free days at the beach, then that evening, Elizabeth said she wanted to watch her old team play. It was an away game, the second match of the year, so they climbed into Norton’s minivan and drove to Coral Springs.

All the girls hugged Norton and Elizabeth when they arrived, and most of the parents did, too. But once the game started, Elizabeth went quiet. She watched, and Norton knew she wanted to be out there with them. They left after the first set.

Norton wanted to cheer up Elizabeth, so she drove her to the mall after the game. Elizabeth didn’t talk the entire time. They ate Chipotle and wandered around, and eventually Norton found Elizabeth in the kids’ section at Marshalls, running volleyball drills with a toy.

Elizabeth passed out on the couch the second they got home, and Norton knew they couldn’t keep living like this.

In all the months they’d been waiting for an end to the investigation, Norton had never considered moving. She loved Coconut Creek. Both she and her husband had lived there their entire lives, and she’d always imagined they’d grow old on their corner lot.

Maybe it was time to let those dreams go, Norton thought. Maybe they were better off moving to a town where no one knew them. Elizabeth might never want to play team sports again, Norton imagined, but maybe, if they found a new school, she could still have a senior year, one last chance at a normal girlhood and the good life Norton had worked so hard to give her.

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago

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We're Not Okay - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x veterinarian!Female Reader

Summary: Two people, each carrying their own trauma, find themselves in a place where they can begin to heal their wounds and mend their hearts together.

Words Count: 3,400

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“This is the first time I’ve heard a fox's voice,” said your father, Toni, as he shivered, pulling his jacket suit tighter around himself. The cold air bit at both of you as snow threatened to fall. Toni, at 50 years old, stood taller than you, his grey hair contrasting against the bleak sky.

He kept close behind as you worked at the conservation center, his eyes darting downward to ensure his pristine Italian leather shoes avoided mud or puddles. Unlike him, you wore a rugged outdoor outfit, complete with sturdy boots, befitting your role as a veterinarian and co-owner of the conservation—a job you’d been committed to since leaving home at seventeen.

“You could have waited in the visitor’s room,” you said, glancing over your shoulder while examining the fox.

“I can’t,” he replied, his voice tinged with anxiousness.

You let out a long sigh, turning your attention back to the fox—a sleek creature with bright orange fur streaked with hints of white, its ears flicking nervously as you checked for injuries. Its amber eyes watched you warily, a mix of fear and exhaustion evident.

Once your work was done, you exited the cage with Toni following closely. Both of you headed toward the main house, the crunch of gravel underfoot breaking the tense silence.

Toni’s eyes caught something unusual. “Wow. What’s that?” He pointed toward a cage set apart from the rest.

“Wait…! Don’t go near—” you shouted, but it was too late. Toni had already stepped closer.

“AHH!” He fell to the ground, his face pale and eyes wide. He trembled as he stared at the creature inside.

The white wolf looked directly at him, its majestic fur glistening like freshly fallen snow. Though intimidating with its piercing blue eyes and muscular build, it limped, favoring one injured leg.

You rushed over and dragged your father away from the cage. “I can’t even get close to him,” you muttered, exasperated.

Toni stood, brushing the dirt from his customized jacket, his face a mixture of frustration and fear. “I’ve been spat on, peed on, and now nearly eaten by the animals here.”

“Why are you even here if you hate it so much?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just like my two older brothers. They come here, disrupt my work, and complain.”

“Ew… this place stinks. How do you stand it?” your first brother had sneered on his last visit.

“This owl is interesting. Do you sell them? I know plenty of people who’d pay,” the second one had added.

“GET OUT!” you’d yelled, seething with fury.

All the men in your family despised the outdoors. City people, through and through, they were consumed with managing their nightclub empire—a world you had rejected wholeheartedly. That life, everything they represented, was what drove you away to this sanctuary of yours.

Toni shifted nervously, glancing at you with rare vulnerability. It was an odd sight—the formidable nightclub owner and fierce businessman, now reduced to unease in your presence.

“Here’s the thing. I need… No.” He shook his head and corrected himself, “We need your help.”

“Me?” You arched an eyebrow. “How?” The question dripped with skepticism. You, a conservationist and veterinarian, had severed ties with their business long ago.

“Because of COVID-19, many businesses have been hit hard, including ours,” Toni said, his shoulders sagging.

You crossed your arms tighter, a flicker of resentment surfacing. After you’d left home, you’d turned a blind eye to everything related to their business. “Well, good. I hope that place burns to the ground.”

Toni’s face fell. “I know you hate it, but it’s my livelihood.” He sighed deeply. “Business is bad. There’s a chance it’ll go bankrupt.”

“Then sell it,” you said with a dismissive wave. “Most men your age are enjoying retirement.”

“Bah! No. I’m still in my prime!” He straightened his back defensively.

“Get to the point. What do you want?” you demanded.

“There’s someone willing to invest. But… there’s a catch,” Toni admitted, his eyes pleading. “Do you know Barnes?”

“Hmm… Yeah. The family that donates a lot to wildlife causes, including this place.”

“That’s right.” Toni nodded eagerly.

“So Barnes wants to invest in your nightclub?” You were incredulous. “Why?”

“That’s how Barnes gets richer—diversifying. And they’ve chosen our business. But there’s a condition.” Toni’s expression grew grave.

A pit formed in your stomach. Whatever it was, you knew it couldn’t be good.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

“The Barneses want to send their oldest grandchild here,” said Toni, his voice low as if dreading your reaction.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaling slowly. “This isn’t a daycare or rehab facility for humans.”

“I know, I know.” He raised his hands defensively. “That’s what I’ve been telling them. But they won’t budge. If I don’t bring their grandchild here, they won’t invest in the nightclub.”

“Ridiculous!” you snapped, your eyes narrowing. “Why drag me into this? The animals here are victims, and this place is their sanctuary, not some personal favor zone.”

“I knew you’d hate it,” Toni said, shifting uncomfortably. “But I thought you might change your mind after hearing me out.”

You crossed your arms, skeptically raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m all ears. What kind of offer could possibly make me reconsider?”

“This… isn’t easy for me,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “But I’ll give you what you’ve wanted for a long time. I’ll remove you from the family registry.”

Your eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Wow. You must really need this investment.”

Toni nodded, his shoulders slumping, revealing the weight of his desperation. “But you don’t…” His voice faltered, as if hoping you’d ask for anything else instead of severing family ties completely.

“Fine.” The single word was delivered coolly as you turned on your heel, walking away without looking back. Toni’s face fell, his hope visibly deflated.

“Do you really hate me that much?” he called out, his voice cracking slightly. “That you want nothing to do with us?”

You stopped mid-step, your back still to him. “I do.” The words were blunt and final, hitting him like a physical blow.

A silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the faint rustling of the wind. “Because of you, I’m reminded of that incident,” you said quietly, more to yourself than him, before walking away, leaving him standing there, hurt and alone.

That night, sleep eluded you. Memories from your childhood swirled in your mind, refusing to let you rest. Growing up as the child of a nightclub owner was no fairytale. Your home was a chaotic tangle of bright lights and dark secrets. You’d seen things a child shouldn’t—dangerous deals, late-night arguments, drunken patrons—and it left scars.

The confusion was only magnified by two stepmothers and two stepbrothers. Making a family tree in school was always a nightmare. That business stole away what innocence you had left. That was why you fled, finding solace in the simplicity and quiet resilience of animals.

"Owooooooo," A wolf’s howl pierced the still night air, low and haunting.

The sound sent a chill down your spine but also pulled you from your thoughts. Grabbing your jacket, you decided to check on the white wolf.

The wolf’s enclosure was isolated from the others. Previously placed near the fox, it had made every nearby animal skittish and restless, so it was moved here. The wolf stood under the pale moonlight, its white fur glistening like freshly fallen snow, every movement tinged with raw strength despite the noticeable limp in its gait. It tilted its head back and howled again, a mournful, soul-stirring sound.

You stepped closer to the cage, your breath fogging in the cold air. The white wolf’s piercing blue eyes locked onto you, unblinking. When it first arrived, it had been painfully thin, its ribs visible under its fur, and its injured leg had been in dire condition. Despite its weakened state, it had always reacted with hostility—growling, baring its sharp teeth whenever you approached.

You stopped just outside the cage’s boundary. “Can’t sleep?” you asked softly. “Me neither.”

The wolf let out another long, mournful howl, as if acknowledging your words. Its gaze was intense, wary, but something flickered in its eyes—pain, maybe even recognition.

“You’ve been hurt a lot,” you murmured, your voice low and steady. The wolf’s ears twitched, a small but telling sign that it was listening, though its muscles remained taut, ready to spring at the first hint of danger. You leaned against the cold metal bars, feeling the chill seep through your jacket. The wolf’s intense gaze never wavered, its blue eyes seeming to pierce right through you, mirroring a pain you recognized all too well. This raw, unfiltered connection made the air feel heavier, the silence more profound.

This was why you worked here. It wasn’t just about caring for wounded animals; it was about caring for yourself. The conservation was a sanctuary, not only for those with fur and feathers but for a heart battered by memories of your past.

Every injured creature, every frightened animal you helped heal, was a step toward mending yourself. You’d left a life that was full of noise, chaos, and hollow family ties that never really felt like home. Here, there was simplicity in purpose and purity in your connection with these beings—no lies, no hidden motives, only survival, trust, and the instinctual drive to heal.

When you saw the wolf growl and lash out in fear or defiance, you understood. Its isolation mirrored your own self-imposed solitude. You, too, had learned to push others away to protect yourself. In mending its wounds, in helping it trust again, you hoped to do the same for yourself. Piece by piece. Scar by scar.

You sighed, your breath visible in the cold air. “It’s going to be okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than the wolf. It didn’t respond, of course, but its ears twitched again. You let yourself believe that, maybe, it understood on some level. Maybe, just like you, it wanted to believe that healing was possible—even after so much pain.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

The inside of the luxurious jeep exuded opulence—soft leather seats, dark wood paneling, and the faint scent of expensive cologne mingling with polished leather. In the spacious backseat sat two men.

One of them, Jimmy Barnes, carried himself with a commanding presence. His gray hair was impeccably styled, and lines of experience etched his face, giving him the aura of a leader used to control. Everything about him, from the sharp cut of his suit to his steely gaze, spoke of power and purpose.

Beside him, his eldest son, James Buchanan Barnes—known as Bucky—stared blankly out the window. The passing landscape rolled by, ignored and unremarked upon, as the silence between father and son stretched uncomfortably. The trip had already dragged on for four hours, and not a single word had passed between them.

Jimmy shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. He glanced at Bucky, his eyes softening momentarily before hardening again as he struggled to maintain composure. He drew a breath and spoke, his voice firm but tinged with an edge of weariness.

“Bucky.”

There was no response. Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the blur of trees outside, as if he hadn’t heard anything at all.

Jimmy clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around the cane resting against his knee. He let out a deep sigh, exhaling the frustration he’d been holding. “Bucky,” he repeated, more gently this time. Still nothing. Jimmy's shoulders sagged slightly, a rare crack in his usually impenetrable facade.

Bucky, his firstborn from his marriage to his late first wife, hadn’t spoken a word in years. As a child, something had happened—something that had stolen his voice and left scars too deep for therapists and experts to reach.

Every attempt to coax him out of his silence had met with failure. Over time, Bucky had also developed acute anxiety around people, making even the simplest social interactions a nightmare. Recently, though, they’d discovered a sliver of hope: Bucky seemed calmer, even a little more at ease, around animals.

Jimmy’s thoughts drifted back to his meeting with Toni. What had started as a business discussion quickly shifted when Toni mentioned his daughter—a veterinarian with her own conservation center. The idea had taken root then and there.

This might be what Bucky needed. It was a desperate measure, but Jimmy would go to any length to see his son improve—for Bucky’s sake, and for the sake of their family legacy.

Jimmy shifted again, leaning closer to Bucky, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “We’re going somewhere different today,” he said, trying to inject warmth into his tone. “You’ll like it. Animals, open air… it’s good.”

Bucky didn’t move, but a slight tension in his shoulders betrayed that he’d heard. The silence lingered heavily between them, but Jimmy took it as a small victory. He leaned back, looking out his own window, his expression hardening once more. He needed this to work. Bucky had to get better—for himself, for the company, and for the legacy he would one day inherit.

The jeep rolled on, carrying them both toward an uncertain future.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

When Jimmy and Bucky arrived, the scene was more than just a simple visit; it was practically an event. The luxurious jeep pulled up, its polished exterior gleaming even in the muted light. Two men stepped out, flanked by a small team of guards who maintained a cautious but respectful distance. You observed the scene with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Guards? It felt excessive.

Toni walked over with a strained smile, clearly trying to mask his nerves. He gestured toward the older man with an air of forced calm. “This is Jimmy Barnes,” Toni said, his voice firm but tinged with unease. “Jimmy, this is my daughter.”

You extended a hand politely, meeting Jimmy’s piercing gaze. His handshake was strong, controlled—a man used to holding power. “Pleasure to meet you,” you said, maintaining eye contact.

Jimmy nodded once, his expression unreadable. “Thank you for having us,” he replied. “I’ve heard good things.”

“Of course,” you said, feeling the weight of his words. There was a formality in his tone, but a glimmer of desperation lingered beneath. You turned your attention to the younger man beside him. “And you must be Bucky.” You spoke gently, but Bucky didn’t respond. He barely seemed to register your presence, his gaze fixed on the ground or wandering elsewhere.

Jimmy’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. He shifted his weight, a sign of his frustration, though he kept his voice even. “Bucky,” he said again, a touch softer this time. There was no answer. Only the quiet rustling of leaves in the wind.

You looked at Jimmy, feeling the tension simmering beneath the surface. “He can take his time,” you offered quietly, hoping to ease the pressure. “There’s no rush here.”

Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “Thank you,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s… difficult. You understand.”

“I do,” you nodded, choosing your words carefully. “We all need space to find our way. Animals teach me that every day.”

Bucky, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, took a few hesitant steps toward the enclosures. You and Jimmy watched as he moved, his posture guarded but curious.

“He’s calmer around animals,” Jimmy said, almost to himself. There was a mix of hope and despair in his voice. “People make it… harder.”

You nodded, choosing to focus on Bucky. “I’ve seen it happen before,” you said quietly. “Sometimes, animals understand what we can’t.”

Jimmy studied you for a moment, as if weighing your words. “I hope you’re right,” he said finally, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his otherwise controlled exterior. “This has to work.”

“It’s a journey,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “There are no guarantees. But we’ll do our best.”

As Bucky moved closer to the enclosures, something strange happened—the animals turned their attention to him. Every single one of them stopped what they were doing and sat down, as if sensing something unseen. You blinked in surprise, feeling a chill run down your spine. This wasn’t normal behavior.

The white wolf, isolated from the rest due to its intimidating presence, suddenly stood. Its pristine fur gleamed in the sunlight as it limped toward Bucky. You held your breath, instinctively stepping forward in case something went wrong. But Bucky extended a hand, slow and gentle. The wolf hesitated for a brief moment before closing the distance, nudging Bucky’s hand with its nose. Your eyes widened. This was the first time the white wolf had willingly approached anyone. Even you—who spent countless hours caring for it—had never been received this way. It always kept its distance, aloof and wary.

Jimmy watched the scene unfold, his eyes brightening with a mix of hope and disbelief. He turned to you, his voice low but firm. “I have a feeling this place can help him.” There was a pause, heavy with meaning. “If it does, I’ll donate a substantial sum to support your work here.”

“Thank… thank you,” you managed, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. You inclined your head, feeling the weight of his words settle on your shoulders.

Jimmy nodded and began to walk back to the car, the guards moving in step with him. Toni lingered for a moment. He stepped closer, his expression softened as he took your hand. “Please,” he whispered, his grip warm but trembling slightly. “Help me this time.”

You bit your lip, uncertainty swirling within you. “I’m still not sure about this.”

Toni’s eyes met yours, a mixture of hope and desperation. “You can do this. You’ve always managed to handle things on your own.” He gave you a thumbs up, a strained but genuine smile on his lips, before turning to follow Jimmy.

You watched him go, your heart tightening. “No, I’m not,” you whispered to yourself, your shoulders sagging as the weight of the situation pressed down. Outwardly, you might appear strong and unshakable, but inside, the scars of the past left you vulnerable and weary. Every act of strength was a battle, every decision a reminder of what you had to protect.

When the car disappeared from view, you turned your attention back to Bucky.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

You and Bucky stood in awkward silence after the initial introductions. The air was heavy, almost stifling, as you struggled to find the right words. Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on a point somewhere past your shoulder, his expression distant and unreadable. Finally, you sighed softly, deciding to break the silence.

“Come on,” you said gently, gesturing for him to follow. “Let me show you your room.”

Bucky fell into step behind you, his movements quiet but tense. As you walked, you explained, “We keep things pretty simple around here. Meals are communal. Everyone—workers, volunteers—we all eat together.” You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “You don’t have to join if you’re not ready. No pressure.”

Bucky’s only response was a brief nod. It was mechanical, almost detached, but at least it was acknowledgment. You offered a small smile, even though he wasn’t looking at you. “There’s food available whenever you want it,” you continued softly. “And if you need anything, just let me know.”

He said nothing, his eyes wandering to the walls as if searching for an escape. You let out a quiet breath, your heart heavy. You knew this kind of pain—it mirrored the animals you cared for here. The ones who recoiled from touch, who couldn’t trust, who flinched at the slightest movement. Healing took time. It required patience, and you were prepared to give him both. You just hoped he’d let you.

When night fell, the dining room filled with the usual chatter of workers and volunteers unwinding from the day. You scanned the room but didn’t see Bucky. It wasn’t surprising—socializing with strangers was probably overwhelming for him. Silently, you prepared a tray of food and carried it to his room, setting it carefully in front of the door. You didn’t knock. You didn’t want to intrude. Instead, you walked away quietly, hoping he would eat when he was ready.

As you settled into your own bed later that night, a strange unease crept over you. The quiet felt oppressive—too quiet. Usually, the white wolf’s mournful howls punctuated the stillness, a sound you’d grown oddly comforted by. Tonight, there was nothing. It gnawed at you, pulling you from bed and urging you out into the night.

Your steps quickened as you made your way toward the white wolf’s enclosure. The moon cast pale light over the grounds, and there, standing face to face with the wolf, was Bucky.

Neither of them moved. They simply stared at each other, as if sharing an unspoken language that only they could understand. The wolf’s icy-blue eyes were locked onto Bucky, unblinking, while Bucky’s expression was raw, a mixture of pain and something else you couldn’t quite name—recognition, perhaps.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. “Hi…” you said softly, taking slow, cautious steps forward. You didn’t want to startle either of them.

Bucky flinched at the sound of your voice, his head snapping toward you. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a split second, you saw fear flash across his face. He turned and bolted, his footsteps muffled by the grass. As he disappeared into the shadows, the white wolf turned its attention to you. It let out a low, warning growl, its body tense and protective.

'What was that?' You froze, raising your hands slowly in a gesture of peace. “It’s okay,” you murmured, though your pulse raced. The wolf’s eyes never left you, its growl deepening. You felt like an intruder—like you’d interrupted something sacred.

What had just happened? Why did it feel like you were the outsider, the third party in whatever silent connection Bucky and the wolf shared?

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ao3-rex1223 · 1 month ago

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𝓣𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼

Pairing: Professor Leon x Fem Reader

Tags: Lactation kink, breeding kink, p in v, creampie, orgasms, Leon being dominant but also soft, Leon being a dad.

Summary: You and Leon have a six months old daughter. Winter break at the university is just starting and Leon discovers how much he likes your milk...

“More applesauce, sweetie?” You coo to your six month old daughter, Danielle. You carefully guide the little baby spoon to her mouth. She greedily opens wide for more delicious food. “Such a good eater!” you praise, nuzzling her little forehead. “Mommy is so proud of you, Dani.” You continue feeding her as you sit in the university cafeteria, glad that winter break is starting.

“There’s my girls,” Leon purrs as he approaches. He drops a loving kiss to Dani’s head - she giggles and smiles - then kisses your lips, his mouth lingering for a moment. “Hey there, baby.”

“Hey,” you reply, your cheeks flushing as they always do when he kisses you. “How was class?”

He smirks. “Oh, you know, teaching students to think critically and use their head…it’s a tough job but someone has to do it.”

“Tell me you’re going easy on them, at least,” you reply while scooping another tiny spoonful of applesauce. Dani eagerly watches as it nears her hungry mouth.

“I can’t. I swear, the average exam scores get lower and lower every semester.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. When you were his student, he seemed mean and unapproachable, but now you can tell he genuinely wants his students to learn, even if he is a little rough around the edges. Of course, when you were his student, you only aced his class because you let him fuck you over and over in his office. But one thing led to another and now you are the mother to his daughter.

“Aww,” you reply with a teasing expression. “No extra credit for your class this semester?” Your eyes burn with a sensual heat as you gaze at him.

He smirks wickedly and kisses your neck. “Only for my favorite student,” he retorts with a gruff chuckle. You giggle as his warm breath tickles your skin, an adorable laugh that mirrors your little daughter.

Your intimate moment is interrupted by a plucky, young female student clearing her throat. “Um, Professor Kennedy…Could I have a word-”

Leon cuts her off. “Ms. Jones, you may send me an email and I will answer it on my next working day, or you can visit me during office hours. What you may not do is intrude when I am out of my office while I am tending to my girlfriend and our daughter,” he reprimands gently but firmly.

The young student blushes and nods, then quickly turns to run away. You smirk and gently smack Leon’s shoulder. “You didn’t need to be so harsh, Leon.”

Leon steals a kiss from you before he answers. “Yes, I did. I’m clearly spending time with my family. I will not be interrupted.”

You give him one last disapproving glance before returning to feed your daughter.

After lunch, you both head home to give your daughter a nap. You each press a featherlight kiss to her forehead, then quietly exit and close the door. Leon gives you a sultry look, lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. He lays you on the bed and crawls over you, supporting himself with one arm and traversing your curves with the other. You reward his sensual ministrations with soft moans and whimpers, wordlessly begging for more.

“My girl, always so needy for her professor’s cock,” Leon coos, still playfully referring to himself as merely your educator and you just his pupil, as he occasionally does during your more intimate moments. His hardening member begins pressing against your hip over your clothes, causing your cunt to stir. Creamy slick leaks into your panties, making the thin cotton fabric stick to your folds. His hand slides up underneath your shirt, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

As he inches under your bra, he massages your swollen breast and tweaks your nipple. When he feels a few drops of milk, he freezes, his cock hardening even further. “Baby,” he purrs, roughly pulling your top off and ridding you of your bra just as fast. He attacks your neck with a wet kiss, sucking and groaning. He works his lips down; his target: your leaking breasts. His lips pepper kisses up one of your plush mounds then finally take your nipple inside his mouth. He moans appreciatively, sucking and drinking your milk - now free flowing. His hand cups your breast, squeezing gently as if to keep the flow strong. “Mmm, you taste amazing baby girl. Why is this the first time I’ve drank from your perfect tits!?” He smirks wide and returns to his feast like a man starved. Determined to bring you to euphoria with him, he slips a hand under your panties and rubs your slick folds.

Your soft moans fill the air like music serenading him while he devours you. The combination of his mouth sucking firmly on your tits and his fingers rubbing your cunt is nearly burning you up. “Ohhhh…Leon…”

With a growl, he pulls his mouth off your tit with a pop, licking his lips as he looks into your eyes. “Hands and knees, sweetheart,” he commands gruffly and, without waiting for you, grabs your hips and flips you over, then pulls your ass in the air. It all happens so fast, you’re nearly dizzy from the transition. The erotic sound of his belt buckle being undone and his zipper sliding down drives more slick to gush from your cunt. You clutch your pillow, eagerly awaiting the feel of your lover inside you. He shoves your skirt up and pulls your panties to one side.

Finally, the heavenly stretch of your walls around his cock floods your senses, a cavalcade of pleasure surrounding your body. He wraps his hands around your plush hips, still holding onto some baby weight. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Leon purrs. “Think I might have to breed this pussy again. Give Danielle a little brother or sister. Whad’ya say, baby?”

Your answer is a guttural moan as he drives his cock deep into your soft pussy, grinding against your g-spot. Your milky tits rub on the blanket beneath you, your sensitive nipples sending sparks all over.

Leon’s pace increases, thrusting into you harder and faster. He reaches around to stroke your clit, smearing your slippery essence all around your cunt. “Cum for me, my good little slut,” he commands.

His dirty words and pressure on your clit are enough to send you over the edge. You rock your hips back hard, taking his cock deep as your walls tighten around him like a vice. You bury your face in your pillow and cry out, not wanting to be too loud and wake your daughter. Seconds later, a punched out groan leaves Leon’s throat as he cums inside you. He collapses on the bed next to you, pulling you securely in his arms while he softly strokes your hair. “God, I fucking love you so much, baby,” he coos.

After lying together for a while, you hear Danielle’s cries through the baby monitor. Leon kisses your forehead. “You rest, sweetheart. I got it. Barely got to see my little princess at all, today.” He rises from the bed, dresses quickly, then pads down to the nursery to spend time with his precious daughter. Meanwhile, you drift off to sleep into a light nap.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #12 days of smutmas #Professor!Leon x fem!Reader #leon s kennedy x reader

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dimlylittorch · 1 month ago

Text

soooo this is my first like REAL writing for Ghost :3 idk how but this is my longest writing so far.. 6K+ so yall be warned

My Masterlist🌱

18+ drabble MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x virgin!chubby!pre-op!transmasc!reader

he’s big and mean but i feel like he would be really soft with sex :((

warnings: slight daddy kink at the end, maybe some insensitive language (fat) it’s good tho i promise, female parts are referred to with said names (i’m pre-op so saying like t-dick is weird for me lol)

tbh this is my first ever like in depth smut so forgive me if it’s bad🙏

You had only recently moved away from your home town, deciding to shack up in a big city with more opportunities. Back home it was hard to make friends- let alone date. Being trans wasn’t easy, let alone being chubby on top of that. You’d never even come close to having a boyfriend.. or a hook up for that matter. But why not go to a big city? You didn’t need to reinvent yourself. You knew you were likeable.. maybe you were just fishing in the wrong pond.

Settling into a small studio apartment wasn’t ideal, but it was home. After moving in and getting into the groove of a new city and a new job.. you decided it was time to try and make friends. Or maybe even a boyfriend. But- we couldn’t set our hopes too high, right? Don’t settle, but don’t expect too much. Something you found yourself repeating constantly.

You’d never gone ‘clubbing’ before. Your home town was small, and the only bars had a lot of old drunkards in them. So you didn’t exactly know what to wear. It was chilly outside- you could work with that. You knew you wanted to look cute. Picking out a fitted turtle neck, you adding a pair of nice pants to wear with a belt. And boots! That made the whole look.

Well. You thought that would make the look. It turns out people don’t really.. wear clothes like that to clubs. Girls in short dresses, guys in plain shirts.. you definitely stood out. Thank god it was a little dark in there as you walked through the crowded club, drink in hand. You could try to dance.. but you knew you wouldn’t be a huge fan of getting shoved around or groped. What did people even do at clubs? I guess it’s not very interesting if you’re not with people.

With a sigh you walk along the back, eventually settling against the brick wall that led into the back hallways of the club. You stood near one of the back doors, sipping on your drink as you people watched. It was something you’d gotten used to- seeing other people live. Be human. Be real. There wasn’t anything as humbling as that.

When you hear the slam of a door, you look off to your left down the hallway. A large man lumbered out of the door, pushing a smaller man against the wall before practically tossing him aside. The larger man had a man or two behind him.. bodyguards? It’s dark and hard to make out much, but you see a flicker of light for a split second.

As the large man walks to exit the hallway, that’s when you see really how tall he is. Definitely over six feet, large muscles with a lit cigar in hand. As he glances around the club, his eyes eventually fall on your small form, shrunk back against the wall. His eyes trailed over your unusual outfit. What was a little thing like you doing in a place like this? When your eyes met his you quickly looked downcast, taking a sip of your drink. God, he was tall.

Stalking over to you, he stops only a foot or so in front of you. “Ya look lost” he says lowly as he stares down at you.

Looking up at him with slightly wide eyes, you chuckle awkwardly. “Well.. looks like someone found me”

He huffs at your words, crouching down every so slightly to be more on your level. “We ‘ave a dress code here, yknow” he says gruffly.

Your eyes narrow and you quickly look down at your outfit. “What?” You question. “I’m dressed nice-“ you start to say.

“Tha’s the problem, love” he mutters. “Ya gotta look slutty in a joint like this. Or like a bum.”

You stare up at him with disbelief. “This- this is the tightest shirt I have!” You scoff as you put your hands on your hips. “You want people to look trashy?”

He chuckles as he looks down at your turtle neck with an amused look. “Tha’ trashier they look tha’ more money they spend.” He muses. “You ain’t spending a pretty penny at a place like this, eh?”

“You talk like you own the place” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Tha’ I do” he smirks. “Now- get outta my club. Pretty bird like you ‘ill get roughed up.” He murmurs as he opens the back door, waiting for you to leave.

You look up at him with a glare. “Are you kidding me? What if I want to enjoy myself?”

He sighs, letting the door close and leaning down. “Lovie.. yer standin’ against tha’ wall. You havin’ fun?”

You open your mouth to speak, but slowly close it again. He was right. You weren’t having fun. Looking downcast, you cross your arms over your chest again. “What do people here even do for fun?” You mutter. “Other than getting drunk.”

He hums, standing up and glancing around the club. “My.. patrons” he mutters. “Come ‘ere for booze, drugs or sex.” Leaning down again, his eyes meet your own. “Which one will it be?”

And that.. was how you found yourself following the large man who you later learned’s name was Simon upstairs to the second floor of the club. Of those three, you figured you’d go with the last. Something you’d like to experience, at least. What you didn’t expect, was for him to invite you on up. As the two of you reach the top of the stairs, he unlocks a door and when you step inside you realize- he lived on the second floor.

“Now” he says plainly as he locks the door behind the two of you. “Which team ya’ play for?” He asks as he gestures for you to relax.

“Um.. guys. Men.” You murmur softly as you set your bag on the couch, looking around gently at the neatly furnished apartment.

“Well” he huffs as he walks into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring a drink for himself. “I could use a good fuck. But if ya want someone else we got options” he murmurs with a shrug as he leans over the counter.

Tentatively walking over, you stop on the other side of the counter, eyes downcast. “Can I be honest?”

He chuckles faintly, nodding. “Never lie to a man as big as me, birdie” he smirks.

Leaning over the counter, mirroring his position you gently look up, eyes meeting his own. “I’m a virgin.” You say softly. “And.. um.. female. Technically. But I’m a guy. If that makes sense.”

He pauses at your words, looking down at you silently for a few moments. “Transvestite? Is tha’ what they call ‘em?” He questions.

Pulling a soft laugh from you, you shake your head with amusement. “Transgender. But- good try” you smile softly up at him. “You.. think you got someone for me?” You ask shyly.

He sighs softly, setting his glass down and looking at you. “Ya got me. I wouldn’t trust any other man ta’ take yer virginity” he says quietly. “Men get impatient. They’ll hurt a soft thing like you. But me? Been in the forces. Patience is all I know.”

Looking up at him for a few moments, your eyes soften as they take in his features. You can tell he’s seen combat.. the scars are there to prove it. “Thank you for your service” you say softly as you look downcast, cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of being with him. Sure, he looked rough.. but opposites attract, right?

He snorts at your words, setting his glass down. “Haven’ heard tha’ in a while” he muses. “Look.. yer nervous, I get it. But we ain’t gonna do this if ya aren’t ready.”

Sighing softly, you run your fingers through your hair. “I want to do this.” You say quietly. “I.. I’ve been waiting for a long time, you know? I’m tired of waiting.” You murmur as you push off of the counter, walking around to where he stood and looking up at him. “You don’t have to.. be with me. If I’m not your type.” You clarify as your eyes meet his own. “I’m not exactly the beauty standard or anything” you snort slightly. “But if you want to- I’d like to.”

His eyebrows quirk at your words, a smirk crossing his lips. “I’ve been with jus’ about everyone” he muses. “Yer nothin’ new f’me.. if that brings ya some peace of mind.”

A small sigh of relief leaves you, and you feel yourself relax slightly. “I appreciate that” you sigh. “So.. sex.” You murmur faintly. “Right. We- um.. how do you want to..” you trail off.

Before you can say anything else you feel a heavy hand land on your hip, gently pulling you forward into his chest. Looking up you find him gazing down at you, eyes flitting over your soft form as his fingers gently hook into the hem of your pants, tugging them down ever so slightly to feel the fat of your hip. As you suck in a sharp breath, he reaches with his other hand and grabs your own, pulling yours to rest on his hip. His neck cranes down to brush against your ear, deep words hitting your skin. “Yer allowed ta’ touch me little thing.”

Letting out a shaky breath, your eyes shift downcast to his hip where your hand was frozen. After a faint moment you gently start to feel the hard muscle of his hip, a contrast to your own body. Little did you know how the contrast drove him crazy. Staring down at your soft form made his heart beat faster than it had in weeks. Little birds like you hardly ever came into his club.. soft things that need protecting. He’d quickly grown tired of the usual quick fuck he’d find for himself on a random Tuesday night. You seemed real. And you made him feel real.

“I like your belt.” You whisper faintly, brain growing slightly fuzzy from the entire interaction. You’d grown so touch starved that it was almost overwhelming being able to touch someone freely- even if it was just a clothed hip. “Looks nice with your outfit..” you murmur. A black leather belt that matched the shade of everything else he wore.

He chuckles faintly, breath heavy against your ear. “Could say the same f’r you.” He breathes. “Cute little thing.. overdressed an’ all.”

A small smile crosses your lips when you recognize his teasing tone, your hand tentatively pulling his shirt out of where it was tucked on his left side. Slipping your fingers under his shirt, you gently graze against his toned skin, hard with a nice layer of fat over his stomach. You hear him suck in a breath at your touch, and you look up at him with soft eyes. “This okay?” You whisper.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done things slow. Usually he’d rip off a persons clothes within minutes, eager to get a quick fuck.. that sense of release that lasted for only a few sweet moments. But with you it was different. He didn’t want to push you over the counter. He didn’t want to shove you onto the couch cushions. He wanted to explore. Take his time. Watching you explore his body.. christ, it did something to him. When was the last time he truly enjoyed sex?

“Mhm” he hums lowly. “Ya ain’t even gotta ask.. ya could peg me for all I care” he smirks softly. His heart warms when he hears the laugh that slips past your lips, and he can’t help but place a faint kiss to the skin of your neck, drawing a gasp from you. “Tha’ feel good?” He questions.

Leaning into his touch, you nod slightly. “More than good.” You confess. “Would you do it again?” You whisper after a small moment. “Please?”

He audibly groans when he hears your plea, placing another kiss against your neck, this time with more passion. “Yer like a bunny.. all soft and sweet” he murmurs against your skin.

Feeling your face flush from his lips on your skin, you gently reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone like this.. he’d usually put them on their knees and take them from behind. But he liked how soft you felt in his palms as he pulled you closer, your body melting in his hands.

You shyly bury your face in his neck, placing a small kiss to his skin, earning another groan from him. “Anything in particular you’ve been wantin’ ta’ try?” He hums against your skin as his kisses grow deeper to your skin. “Any positions yer pretty little self thinks abou’ all tha’ time?” He smirks.

Feeling your face flush more you bury yourself against him as much as you can. Letting out a shaky breath, he grins when he hears your words. “Doggy.. looks nice.”

“Tha’ it is” he muses. “You’ll feel me real deep, love.. that what ya’ want? Wanna feel full?” He smirks against your skin.

Whining softly, you can’t help but nod. “Mhm.”

“Alrigh’ then. I’ll get tha’ job done.” He grumbles, making you squeak as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he brings you into his bedroom. “Bet ya ain’t never been carried like ya deserve” he huffs as he kicks the bedroom door closed, setting you down gently on the soft blankets and sheets, a nice dark gray color.

Shaking your head no, you can’t help but gaze up at him. “You’re really strong” you whisper softly.

He gently reaches forward, his hand cupping your chin as he stands over you. “Tha’ I am. But yer not heavy either.. nothin’ wrong with bein’ soft. Ya still deserve someone ta carry ya every now and then.” He murmurs as he leans down, his lips meeting your own.

Before you can stop yourself you moan against his lips, your face flushing heavily. He smiles, pulling away and looking at you. “Didn’t know ya could make those pretty sounds, hm?” He muses.

Shaking your head slightly, he reaches down to undo his belt, watching how you swallow slightly, your eyes moving to his crotch. “Ever had a cock in front of ya?” He asks as he pulls his belt off, tossing it aside and unzipping his fly.

When he sees you shake your head no, he sighs. “I’m a little bigger than tha’ average man.” He warns. “Ya ain’t gotta do nothin’ ya don’t want, alrigh’?”

“Okay.” You whisper softly, eyes glued to his crotch. Before he can pull his cock out of his briefs, you gently lean forward to palm him through the fabric. He moans out of surprise at the feeling, hunching over slightly.

“Fuckin’ christ-“ he groans. Before he can say anything else, you lean forward more, pressing your lips to his clothed cock, kissing along the fabric sweetly. He looks down at you with wide eyes, chest already heaving slightly. No one had ever done that before. “Tha hell?” He questions before you look up at him with adoring eyes.

His heart skips a beat when he sees your gaze, completely wide eyed and full of emotion. “Does that feel nice?” You whisper softly. “You feel pretty hard..” you say faintly before you look back down, starting to place open mouthed kisses along his clothed bulge. He curses to himself, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep himself steady. He can feel the heat of your mouth soaking through the fabric onto his cock which was already as hard as it could get. You were practically worshipping him and he had no idea how to handle it.

“Yer driving me wild” he chokes out. “Where tha fuck did ya learn to do tha’?” He asks quickly.

Sighing contentedly against his bulge, you look up at him innocently. “I read a lot” you say softly. “Am I doing it right?”

He laughs breathlessly, slipping one of his heavy hands into your hair. “I think yer doing it better than anyone else has..”

When you feel his hand in your hair you whine weakly, leaning into his touch as your eyes flutter closed. He feels his chest burn when he sees how soft you are- a pretty little thing that just wants to be touched. “C’mere lovie” he says softly as he bends down, picking you up slightly to scoot you further up the bed. “Can tell yer just a cuddle bug.. want ya within an arms reach, hm?”

Nodding quickly at his words, you let him move you up to the headboard, resting your head on the pile of soft silk covered pillows he had. He moves on top of you, knees on either side of your legs as he looks down at you. “Gonna give ya doggy just like ya wanted, alright?” He questions as he pulls his shirt off, tossing it across the room.

Copying his movements, you sit up gently so you can pull your turtle neck off, setting it aside on the edge of the bed, leaving you in your binder. Your face flushes as his eyes trail over your torso, licking his lips slightly. When he sees your embarrassment, he moves his hands to your thighs. “Tell me somethin’ ya like about yourself” he says gruffly.

Your eyes look up to meet his own, a look of confusion on your face. But you don’t question him. “My.. my hair is soft.” You say quietly. He hums, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair once again.

“Tha’ it is. Something else?”

Humming softly, you look down at your body to think. “I.. I like my shoulders.” You whisper faintly. “They’re broad.. for a female. They make me feel more manly.” His head tilts slightly as he moves to look at your shoulders with a soft hum.

“They’ve got little lighting bolts an’ everything” he murmurs, glancing at the stretch marks that lined your body.

“Yeah” you smile softly, your gaze shifting to his torso. “I like your scars.” You add. “I.. I think they’re pretty.”

He can’t help but smile at that. He’d grown to be content with his scars- no longer hating them like he used to. “I think you’re pretty.” He replies with a small smile before leaning forward to kiss your shoulder. Grinning shyly, you can’t help but kiss his cheek.

He lets out a soft breath against your skin, looking up to meet your eyes. “Something ya don’t like?” He whispers. Your smile falters slightly, looking downcast. He can see something pop into your head, but you try to think of something else. “No, no- tell me. Tha’ first thing ya thought of.” He orders.

“It’s embarrassing” you murmur faintly.

“I’ve seen combat” he snorts. “Nothing is embarrassing to me anymore. Be honest.”

Looking away from his gaze, your cheeks felt hot as you tried to put it into words. “I.. well- obviously I don’t look like.. other people in porn.” You murmur as quietly as you can. “I know it’s unrealistic. But.. still.” You sigh. “I’ve never really.. seen anyone with a.. chubbier..” you confess, gesturing down to your crotch.

When he realizes what you mean, he hums, leaning back slightly as he looks down at you. “Ya got a fat cunt, ya mean?” He smirks.

You quickly feel your cheeks flare, reaching up and playfully slapping his chest. “Shut up!” You hiss.

He laughs lowly, smirking as he looks down at you. “Cmon lovie- those are tha’ best kind. Gives a big guy like me more room to work with, eh?”

Laughing shyly at his stupid smirk, you relax some. “I guess that makes sense.” You smile.

“Alrigh’ now- back to business” he chuckles as he grabs the base of your binder, pulling it over your head. His breath hitches when he sees your chest, tossing the binder across the room.

You scoff playfully when he throws your binder. “Hey! Those are expensive-“ you start to say but your words are cut off when his lips touch your chest. You instantly arch into his touch when he pulls you close, his arms wrapping around the middle of your back as he pulls you up into his face, leaning down and placing kisses all along your chest. Blushing heavily you let out shaky breaths, slipping your fingers into his hair. “Si-Simon” you say weakly.

He groans as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, teasing at the bud with his tongue while his eyes flutter closed. He pulls off with a faint pop, grabbing your now slick breast with his hand and kneading it. “Christ in heaven” he breathes out as he starts to suck on your other breast.

Whining faintly, you can’t help but tug on his hair slightly. When he feels the tug he lets out a low moan, the vibrations hitting your nipple just right to make your thighs clench around his waist.

Before he can catch himself his hips start to grind against the mattress, making his arms tighten around your body. He hears a moan slip past your lips and he looks up, his clouded eyes meeting your own. “Ya like that?” He murmurs. When you look at him slightly confused, brain clearly fuzzy, he squeezes his arms around you again. When he sees that same look of pleasure he smirks, moving his arms and crawling up on top of you. “is tha’ right.. little thing wants ta’ be held.” He teases as he presses his lips against your own.

Whining at his words you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. “Mhm” you whimper against his lips.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue slipping past your lips for a moment before he pulls away. “Fuck..” he breathes out. “Yer so touch starved even a hug turns you on, eh?” He muses. “Pathetic little thing.”

When he feels how you tense at his last words, he already knows he’s said something wrong. He quickly pulls back, looking down at you. As his eyes search your own, he leans forward to place a small kiss to your forehead. “Sorry love” he says softly. “Only praise for you, yeah? We can work with that” he murmurs.

When you let out a small sigh of relief, his hands shift down to get his pants off the rest of the way. As you move to undo your own belt, he growls softly and takes over, pulling your belt off and tossing it aside before pulling your pants down to your thighs. “Ya know wha’ you are don’t ya?” He murmurs softly as he pulls your pants off the rest of the way. Setting your pants aside, he starts to tug at your briefs as he leans up to whisper against your ear. “Yer a good boy” he smirks against your skin.

You swear your heart stopped for a second when you heard those words. You felt yourself squirm under his touch, and your face felt like it was burning hot. It was one thing reading words like that- but hearing them? Christ.

He chuckles when he sees your reaction, shucking your briefs off as quick as he can. Your legs snap shut, turning your head away with embarrassment. “Ah, ah pretty boy” he muses as he pulls your hips down closer to his own, pulling your thighs open. “Don’t ya wanna show off f’me?”

Whimpering slightly when the cold air hits your cunt, you bury your face into the silk covered pillows. Your body was already on fire, just from the way he touched you. Being exposed like this was awful- but amazing at the same time. You’d finally done it.. let someone see you like this.

“Fuck me” he groans when his eyes lock on your cunt. “Let me eat him, yeah? Treat him real nice, promise lovie” he says almost pleadingly as he gets onto his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs so he can hold you in place. “An’ would ya look at that” he smirks. “Not even a little wet..” he teases, his hot breath fanning over your skin, making your thighs tighten around his head. “An’ why is that? Sweet boy like you.. thought you would’a been leaking for me” he smirks.

Breathing heavily as you hide your face away, you can only whine in reply. You shiver when you feel two large calloused fingers rub against the lips of your cunt, spreading them open as wide as they can go. “f-fuck” you gasp out weakly when you feel your slick start to spill out slightly, shaking in his hold.

“There he is” he muses. “Ya weren’t lying about havin’ a soft cunt, were ya? Little pussy is so tight it keeps all those juices inside, yeah?” He chuckles, slipping a finger into your tight hole. “God almighty yer tight.. squeezing my finger like a vice sweet boy” he sighs. When he hears you whimper at the intrusion, he coos softly. “Be a big boy f’me.. I promise ya can take it baby. Just a little finger.. it’s my cock ya gotta worry about.”

“too b-big” you whine softly.

With a sigh, he withdraws his finger, slipping it into his mouth and sucking it clean. “Ya really are a sweet boy.. cunt’s made of honey” he hums. “I know what I want.. flip over love” he orders.

With a shaky breath you follow his command, moving onto your knees. You look back for instruction, eyes hazy. Before you can say anything Simon has moved onto his back, scooting himself under your legs. He’s also gotten rid of his briefs, his hard cock now hanging heavy in his hand. “Gonna ride my face, alrigh’ baby boy? Want ya to soak me” he says gruffly as he’s face to face with your pussy.

You stare down at him for a moment, clearly hesitant. He rolls his eyes, grabbing your thighs and pulling you down before you can protest. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as his tongue laps at your tight hole for a few moments, the feeling making you grab the headboard. As much as you don’t want to crush him, he makes your legs give out almost instantly, pussy pressed right against his face. You sit there for a moment trying to gather yourself, but you feel a slap to your ass, making you flinch. When you do so your hips buck, and his nose hits your clit.

“Holy fuck” you choke out, quickly repeating the action, chasing that same pleasure. As his crooked nose bumps against your clit over and over you repeatedly cry out, quickly covering your mouth. With another spank to your ass, your hand falls away and he pulls away for a moment.

“The second ya stay quiet the second I stop.. means m’doing somethin’ wrong” he says plainly before returning to your now soaked cunt. Looking over your shoulder you get a glimpse of how his hips are bucking up into his hand, pumping his cock eagerly. The sight makes a wave of slick pour out of you, greeted by and groan and a quick tongue. “Simon” you whine when his tongue slips over your clit, circling the bud before sucking it into his mouth making you moan out sharply.

You can barely make out what he says into your cunt, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself. “fucking christ- suffocate me love” he groans as he laps at your clit. “Yeah- yeah fuck- can’t wait to get my cock in this hole.. gonna suck me in so good, can already tell” he rambles through huffs of trying to catch his breath.

After a few more moments you find yourself leaning over, barely able to hold yourself up anymore. “f-feels funny” you whimper, your hips slowly down but he grabs onto them, forcing them over his face as hard as he can. “Simon! it feels weird” you say quickly, voice slightly frantic.

He groans against you, slapping your ass again. “gonna feel so good baby” he promises as he sucks at your clit. “gonna make you lose yourself, I swear” he promises. Before you can say anything else you feel a large rush of slick pour out of you, crying out as your face feels a rush of heat. You try to speak, but no words can form, only weak moans of pleasure. “Fucking hell- yeah sweetheart, let me drink ya dry” he sighs as you cum on his face. He keeps your hips going, making sure to drag out your orgasm for as long as he can. “good boy- good fucking boy”

Breathing heavily, you can’t help but whine at his words, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “simon” you plead, your pussy sensitive to his tongue.

He sighs softly, a faint air of disappointment in his tone as he pulls you off of him, sitting himself up and moving you into his lap. “I got ya” he says softly as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Ya did so well.. never woulda’ thought ya were a first timer. Yer cunt loves attention, hm?” He muses against your ear. You whine faintly in reply, curling up in his arms as you try to slow your breathing. His heavy hand rubs along your back, holding you as close as he can. “Perfect, you are” he murmurs against your ear. “God, that cunt feels good. Ya realize that yeah? Felt good getting my tongue sucked like that, hm? Fat lips returning the favor.. bet they were disappointed it wasn’t my cock” he breaths against your skin.

As you rest against him, he can’t help but reach down to rub your clit a little more. “Simon..” you warn tiredly, your eyes looking up to meet his own. “Need a minute”

He sighs softly as he looks down at you. “My cock disagrees” he chuckles faintly, moving his hand to his hard dick and slapping his upwards against your cunt making you gasp. “C’mere- gonna fuck ya in doggy like ya wanted” he murmurs as he turns you onto your knees once more. Not having the energy to keep yourself up on your hands, you let your face rest against the pillows. “Good boy.. head down ass up, right? Ya already know the drill” he smirks as he gently taps the tip of his cock at your entrance.

Your voice has become hoarse from moaning, so how your noises were weak and gravelly. A groan slipped past your lips as your hands grasped at the blankets, back arching your ass into the air. He smirks at the sight, letting his tip rub up against your clit. “Silly boy.. say yer not ready but then ya put yer ass up begging for it”

“fuck- fuck si” you choke out when he rubs his fat cock against your slit, the tip bumping against your clit repeatedly. “please-“ you whimper.

“Oh? Now ya want it in? Fickle little thing you are..” he muses, but before you can reply the head of his dick prods at your tight entrance making you gasp. “Oh fucking hell.. i was right baby- yer fat cunt makes it ten times better, i swear” he groans.

You practically squeal at the initial little stretch, slapping your hand onto the mattress as you try not to cry out. Simon quickly leans over you, resting his head next to yours as he whispers against your ear.

“Cmon lovie- yer alright.. promise baby boy- you’re doin’ so good for daddy. ya wanna call me that? ya can if it helps” he says sweetly against your skin.

You let out a weak sob at his words, tears spilling from your eyes as he puts the tip in completely. “daddy” you choke out faintly. You knew you had a bit of a daddy kink- but you didn’t think it would come out for your first fuck.. turns out it helped with it all. Made you feel safer.. more cared for. “daddy- b-burns” you plead.

Simon groans as he slips in a little further, his chest heaving from how tight you are. “I know baby- fuck, i know.. burns for daddy too” he chokes out. “fuck, your little hole is tight. gotta work ya open a little more, okay lovie? half way there”

Whining sharply as he presses further in, you’re gasping for breath from the sensation. You suddenly feel his fingers on your clit, swirling quickly to relieve some of the burning sensation. “That feel nice?” He whispers against your skin. “i bet it does.. makes ya all wet f’me. yer doin’ such a good job.. such a good boy for daddy” he murmurs against your skin as he places soft kisses along your shoulder.

With his large body encompassing yours, you’d never felt so safe. He was all you could feel, completely surrounding you and your senses. The entire world faded away except for him. “fuck- feels good” you whisper pleadingly.

“there we go.. that’s it” he says softly as he bottoms out, fingers still circling your clit. “you did it baby.. daddy’s gonna make you feel good, alright? promise ya- promise it’ll feel good.”

With a weak nod, you let your face fall back against the mattress. You hiss as he starts to pull back out, but when he pushes back in it’s not nearly as bad as the first time. And what definitely helps is hearing him right in your ear. Heaving grunts and groans as his hips buck up into you, getting faster as you open up more.

“God- your fat pussy is sucking me in so good” he chokes out against your skin. “Ya hear that?” He moans, referring to the loud smack of his hips against your wet cunt. “Ya hear how good this cunt is? Holy fuck baby- gonna keep this all for myself- how’s tha’ sound? Letting me suck on this cunt every day? Promise I’ll pound ya this good every time” he pleads against your ear.

Moaning sharply as his balls smack up to meet your clit, you tilt your ass up more so he can get even deeper. “fuck!” You cry out.

As he pumps faster into you, he holds you tighter against him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “please cum baby” he chokes out pleadingly, his resolve slipping away. “oh fuck- please cum for daddy- wanna feel ya squeeze my cock so good- i know it’ll feel so so good, please” he rambles breathlessly as your cunt clenches tightly around him.

Whining at his words you reach down to grab his hand and press his fingers against your clit a little harder, making you gasp out loudly. He feels a flush of slick rush around his cock, your walls tightening around him so hard it almost hurts. “ah! Fuck- fuck, lovie- yer so fucking tight, gonna pull my cock off” he grunts against your ear as he tries to buck against you more, whimpering slightly when he feels the resistance. Before he can move again he moans against your ear, his thick seed streaming into your cunt.

With a weak sob of pleasure you collapse onto the mattress completely, Simon pulling you as close as he can while still on top of you. His hips buck up slightly as he cums, gasping every time he feels your walls flutter around him. “ohhh fuck yeah, take it” he grunts. “taking it so well” he murmurs against your skin as he empties himself inside of you.

After a few long moments he opens his eyes to look down at you, seeing the tear soaked pillow under your face. “You okay sweetheart?” He says softly, his voice hoarse. When you nod weakly he sighs, pulling you close as he moves to lay on his side. “Can’t believe no one fucked ya before that” he murmurs against your ear. “Fucking incredible you are.. honored you let me break ya in.” He chuckles faintly.

When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you and that’s when he saw you with your eyes closed, breathing softly. You were snuggled up against his chest.. and you’d already fallen asleep. He sighed, grabbing the blankets and pulling them over the both of you, still staying inside of you. “I’ll clean ya up after a nap” he whispers against your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Perfect boy.” He whispered before he fell asleep with his body holding yours tightly.

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