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august126 · 2 months

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Scenes from an Italian Restaurant

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller is a lot of things: your dad’s best friend, your boss, your next-door neighbor. And, y'know, the guy you’ve been harboring a massive crush on since your freshman year of college.

You're pretty sure your feelings aren't reciprocated... until one night that changes everything.

Warnings:Age Difference,Joel is 49 and Reader is 24,Oral Sex,Car Sex,semi-public sex (sort of),Flirting,Masturbation, and Dirty Talk

Words:12,334

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared.

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“Y’know, while ‘m happy that you’re livin’ with me again, I’d appreciate it f’ya started tryin’ to find a job that put that fancy degree t’use.” You peer over the top of the book you’d been reading at your dad, who’s taking up a spot at the end of your pool chair. His arms are crossed over his navy work shirt, drenched in sweat from working all day in the roiling heat customary of a Texas summer, and he’s watching you expectantly for an answer.

You set your book on your chest and sigh. It’s not that you aren’t thankful or don’t appreciate your dad allowing you to move back in with him after graduating from college a year ago. You fully understand how fortunate you are not to have to worry about paying rent; you’re also eternally grateful to your dad for hooking you up with a decent-paying job as a secretary at the contracting business his best friend owns. However, you were getting very, very tired of having this conversation.

“And you know that I am lookin’, but it’s silly for me t’apply for an entry-level position at a firm that’s gonna pay me less than what ‘m makin’ now.” Your dad rolls his eyes and grumbles something snippy under his breath, his go-to combo when he doesn’t like that you’re right. You pin him with a pointed stare. “Care to repeat that?”

“Said maybe I oughta tell Joel to dock your pay then,” your dad states, but any lingering irritation in his tone dissipates by the time he’s finished speaking. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, and his slight frown turns into a small, teasing smile.

“Somebody say my name?” Your gaze shifts from your dad to the sliding glass door behind him… or, rather, the man who opened it.

Joel Miller is a lot of things: your dad’s best friend, your boss, your next-door neighbor. And, y'know, the guy you’ve been harboring a massive crush on since your freshman year of college. Currently, Joel Miller is the tanned, broad, tall man striding leisurely through your backyard, navigating around your pool, and stopping beside your father.

He slaps a hand on your dad’s shoulder in greeting and shoots you a bright grin as he coos, “Hey, lady.” Although Joel’s addressed you with the pet name for years, it never fails to cause an eruption of butterflies in your belly and a crimson blush to paint your cheeks.

“Hey, Joel,” you respond, trying to appear nonchalant even as you’re reining in your thundering heart and halting the pulse throbbing just south of your belly button. “Dad was jus’ sayin’ how he’s gonna ask ya to give me a pay cut.” Joel turns to your father, shaking his head.

“And risk losin’ my best employee? No can do, bud.” Even if he’s only joking, you preen at Joel’s praise. You cock an eyebrow at your dad, waiting for some sort of a comeback, but he only glares at you both before huffing.

“I don’t like when the two of ya gang up on me.” You giggle, and Joel shoots you a lazy wink and a warm, victorious smile. “Anyway,” your dad turns his attention back to Joel, “you said reservation’s at 6:45?”

“Uh-huh, so we oughta get our asses movin’,” Joel asserts, and your dad starts heading swiftly back toward your house. Joel’s eyes shift to you, still lounging on your purple pool chair, and he nudges your foot with the toe of his boot. “That means you too, lady.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Sarah’s birthday,” Joel answers incredulously, and a lightbulb goes off in your head; that’s why you felt like you were forgettin’ something all day. “Please tell me ya didn’t forget my daughter’s birthday. Your friend’s birthday,” Joel teases, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.

“ Of course I didn’t forget,” you lie, narrowing your eyes. Joel sees right through it.

“I bet. Now go get changed ‘fore ya make us late … unless you plan on wearin’ that to dinner.” The blush you just managed to school comes back in full force as he unabashedly rakes his eyes over your body, and only now do you realize how little the tiny black bikini you’re wearing covers.

Joel’s pretty brown eyes, usually so teeming with emotion, are utterly unreadable as you stand from your chair and begin heading inside. As you pass him, you mumble, “Don’t see why you’re complainin’.”

“Didn’t think I was.” You stumble a bit, glancing over your shoulder to find Joel’s gaze slowly sweeping down your body. When his stare lands on your ass, practically bare save for the minuscule cover your bikini bottom provides, his attention snaps back to your face, an impish grin on his lips that makes your skin flush.

“Fuck off, old man,” you reply cooly, flipping him off as you saunter inside; you can still feel Joel’s gaze on you as you ascend the stairs, and if that makes you sway your hips more than usual… well, who the fuck cares?

Once you’ve entered your bedroom and stripped off your bathing suit to assemble an outfit for dinner, your mind drifts into a space you’ve grown all too familiar with over the last five years.

It wasn’t like you didn’t understand how wrong your crush on Joel Miller was. Ignoring the fact that he’s been your dad’s best friend for years, he’s also over two decades your senior and has a daughter only a few years younger than you. It’s disgusting, really, that you have even the slightest hint of attraction toward the man. And yet…

You really can’t find it in yourself to care. You’re no longer a college student parading around under the guise of adulthood. No, you’re a woman now, a woman with autonomy who is perfectly capable of making her own choices. If one of those choices is fucking her dad’s best friend, well, then so be it.

Even as you tell yourself this for the thousandth time, the sentiment feels weak. Sure, the opportunity to fuck Joel Miller is perfectly viable, in theory. However, so many things would have to go right for a thing like that to happen, and you are a notoriously unlucky person; quite frankly, you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve gotten lucky to the degree that you would need to for something like having sex with Joel to happen.

For one, no one would ever be able to find out. Your dad, Sarah, any of your nosey neighbors. Not to mention that the logistical feat of such a thing would be tricky. Where would you guys meet up? Not your house, not his house, and anything public like a bar would be far too risky. No, it would have to be a one-off deal, and you’re not so sure you’d be able to stop at just a single taste of Joel.

And that’s all assumin’ he’d even want me, you think as you comb through your closet looking for a summer dress right for the occasion. Joel Miller had never, never shown a flicker of interest in you. That display by the pool, him ogling your ass in your skimpy bikini? That was just him keeping up the incessant string of banter that passed between the two of you. Sure, he was older than you, but that didn’t matter when it came to the way he treated you, as if you were his friend.

Right, his friend.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. This line of thinking was an absolute rabbit hole, forcing you down, down, down until there was a headache ebbing at your temples and your veins were licking with equal parts frustration and lust.

Three quick knocks come on your door, and your head whips around at the sound, pulling you out of your Joel-induced stupor. “Hey, lady?”

Fuck. You stand in your closet, stunned into inaction like a deer in headlights as you realize the only thing separating you, butt-ass naked, and Joel is the mahogany of your closed bedroom door.

“Just checkin’ to see ‘f you’re ready yet. Sarah jus’ texted, said her and what’s-his-face are waitin’ at the restaurant.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You off-handedly wonder why you haven’t just slipped a dress on over your head on the off chance Joel decides to swing open your door, and you realize with a sick sort of excitement that you wouldn’t entirely mind Joel walking into your room at this very moment.

“Almost,” you call out, forcing your words to come out smooth as the image of Joel entering your room enters your mind unbidden; you imagine how his eyes would take in your naked form, how it’d take three short strides for him to reach you, how he might drop his head and lick one of your already hardened nipples into his warm, waiting mouth. You swallow thickly before calling out, “Just need another second s’all.”

A dull throb begins at the apex of your thighs as you picture the man on the other side of the wall putting his rough, work-worn hands all over your soft, supple skin. You wonder what his calloused touch would feel like against your flesh, if his honeyed skin would grow rosy under the thorough ministrations of your wet tongue, if his eyes would grow dark and a deep groan would drip from his lips as you closed your mouth around his-

“Sweetheart? Y’alright in there?” You think you mumble an airy affirmation as you mindlessly trace your fingers along your collarbone, imagining that they’re longer, thicker, belonging to another individual entirely. Any semblance of rationality escapes you as your other hand creeps down the smooth skin of your belly, and you cup your sex with a groan you’re barely able to muffle. You’re so outside of yourself, caught up in the slow path your fingers are tracing along your body, that you don’t notice the doorknob begin to turn.

Only when your door starts to lurch open do you fall back into your body from where you were floating a few seconds earlier. Your eyes blow wide, a strangled cry of surprise and horror falling from your mouth as you realize the precarious situation you’re about to be thrust into. “WAIT.”

The slow sway of your door opening halts immediately, and you let out a breath, spinning on your heel to face your closet. “I- ‘m jus’ comin’ in t’make sure you’re alright.” You hastily decide on a sage green strapless dress, something you can slip into quickly and inconspicuously, and rip the silk garment from its hanger.

“Yeah, no, ‘m good, Joel. Great, I’m great, jus’… yeah, gimme a sec.” You throw the dress on, its hem falling to your mid-thigh as you grab a pair of strappy sandals from the bottom of your closet and slip one on, hopping into the other as you approach your door.

“Y’sure, baby? Ya sound-” You slip your shoe on and grab the door handle in one movement, opening it fully to give you an unobstructed view of the man you’d just been on the verge of touching yourself to. Wouldn’t be the first time, you think to yourself unhelpfully.

He’s looking down at you, concern and curiosity bubbling in his gaze, and you raise your eyebrows at him. “See? ‘m fine, all good. Jus’ needed a minute.” Joel’s eyes blaze a lackadaisical trail over your body, and you swear you can feel him cataloging each inch of bare skin you have on display. He reaches out, plucking one of the flimsy green spaghetti straps between his thick fingers before letting it go to snap back against your shoulder. You stifle a gasp, and he brushes the hair careening down your chest back over your shoulder.

“This is pretty,” he says, voice low and velvety, and you can feel your pussy beginning to grow wet at his praise. He bends down until his mouth hovers just next to your ear, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of him: musky cologne and citrusy body wash and something unidentifiable yet so undoubtedly Joel. “Did ya mean t’be wearin’ it backward?”

You look down at yourself, heat rising to your face when you realize that he’s right: you’ve managed to put your dress on the wrong way. You shove Joel’s shoulder, and he takes a step back, a smug grin painted on his lips that makes you roll your eyes.

“You’re a dick, y’know that?” He chuckles at your dig, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“And you’re makin’ us late to this dinner. Now, can I trust ya to fix your dress yourself, or do ya need me to help?” He delivers it like a joke, and the logical part of your brain reminds you of that the moment your pulse begins to flutter. He’s just teasin’ you like he always does.

However, the dark, hunger-tinged stare Joel is pinning you with doesn’t feel humorous. You swallow thickly, saliva pooling in your mouth and pinning your tongue to the roof. “I-” you stutter, words failing you as he continues dragging his eyes slowly over your flustered form. “You-”

“Spit it out, baby.” Baby. You turn the endearment over in your head a few times, testing the weight of it on your tongue. Finally, the corners of your lips pull up in a cheeky smile and your eyelids grow heavy as you gaze up into Joel’s face.

“You askin’ to undress me, Miller?” And this doesn’t feel like your typical banter. No, this feels weighted, laced with something headier. Something full of innuendo and promises and an unquenchable appetite for… something. And then your dad’s voice is cutting harshly through the fog.

“Hey hon, I’ll be- oh, Joel, didn’t realize ya came up here.”

Joel doesn’t even spare your dad a glance, eyes still on you as he says, “Jus’ wanted to check and see if your slow-ass kid was ready t’go.” Your dad snorts, and you narrow your eyes at Joel before turning the withering look to your father.

“Don’t laugh at that.”

“Sorry, sweetie, but ya are kinda slow.” Joel’s smirk only grows, and you huff incredulously. Your dad, apparently oblivious to the bubble of tension he popped, continues. “Anywho, was jus’ sayin’ that I’m gonna head out to the car ‘cause we need t’get goin’, so quit your dilly dallyin’ and let’s get a move on.” He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly, and you sigh in defeat.

You look at the ground as you mutter, “Yes, Dad, ‘m just about ready,” and your reply is met with a loud clap of your father's hands.

“Wonderful!” he exclaims, rubbing his palms together before bringing a heavy hand down on Joel’s shoulder. “C’mon, Joel, you can wait with me in the car. I need t’talk to ya ‘bout some work shit anyway.” Your dad begins to drag Joel down the stairs, but not before Joel can get the last word in between you.

He cranes his head back, catching your glare as he descends the stairs. “Y’heard your daddy, no more dilly dallyin’,” he sing-songs, and you scoff.

“Oh, fuck you, Miller.” “Language, ma’am,” you hear your dad chastise sternly, and you grumble a half-assed apology as you close your bedroom door behind you. It only takes you a minute to flip your dress so that you’re wearing it the correct way and throw on a pair of light pink, lace panties, bounding down the stairs and out the front door when you’re ready. Before you know it, you’re seated in the backseat of Joel’s old pickup truck as it cruises down the highway toward Austin’s metro area.

You watch the residential neighborhoods littered with little kids running through sprinklers and elderly couples sitting in chairs on their front porches morph into the city, full of streets tightly lined with buildings and bar-hoppers entering their first destination of the night. The sun still hangs rather high in the sky, dappling the world in a warm amber glow as Joel pulls up outside a quaint Italian bistro nestled between an ice cream parlor full of bright-eyed children and a sushi restaurant rattling with the heavy bass of the music from within.

“Cute lil’ place,” you say, surveying the old brick exterior of the building and the burgundy awning hanging over the open front door that bears the name of the restaurant, Palermio’s, in loopy, white script. “Sarah’s choice?”

Joel reaches his hand behind your dad’s headrest, using one hand to turn the wheel while he starts to squeeze his truck into the last snug parking spot outside of the bistro. “No, darlin’, I did.” You stare at his side profile as he maneuvers the truck, surprise lacing your features. It’s not until he’s parked the car and meets your eyes in the rearview mirror as he’s straightening out in his seat that you realize he’s bullshitting you.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath as you throw open your door and slide from the backseat, and he’s following you a second later.

“Y’know, you oughta be nicer t’me. I am your boss,” he says as you round his truck, his arm brushing yours, and you look up at him. “Could fire ya for bein’ disrespectful, ‘f I really wanted to.” You smirk at him and shrug.

“Ya could, but then you’d be losin’ your best employee, right?” His chest bounces as he laughs, and you smile at the pleasant noise before getting distracted by how his relatively new-looking cream-colored t-shirt bearing the album cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors stretches tautly over the slopes of his wide shoulders.

“Damn right, lady,” he agrees, his gaze crawling over your body as he drags his thumb over his mostly pepper, slightly salt mustache that decorates his upper lip. Your skin crawls pleasantly as you feel him examining you, and you’re just about to reach your father, who’s waiting for the two of you by the entrance to the restaurant, when you hear Joel quietly say, “Prettiest employee, too.”

Your head whips around, feet planting on the concrete as you wait for Joel to say something, anything else. Much to your chagrin, he struts right past you shamelessly, heading inside as your dad gives you a confused look.

“You comin’, honey?” You shake your head, trying to dispel the medley of thoughts whirring around your brain. Did I hear him right? No, no, he didn’t mean that. Definitely not.

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, stepping inside with a sheepish smile in your dad’s direction. “Thought I heard someone callin’ my name, ‘s my bad.” Your dad just nods his head in understanding before draping an arm over your shoulder and steering you toward the back of the restaurant, where you can see Joel already greeting the members of your party who have already arrived.

As you draw closer, you watch him envelope his daughter in a firm hug, rocking back and forth for a few seconds as he whispers something in her ear. She giggles, punching him lightly in the shoulder, and when Sarah pulls back from his embrace, her deep brown eyes, which are almost identical to her father’s, catch a glimpse of you over his shoulder. Before you have a chance to react, she’s colliding with you so hard you grunt.

“You came!” she squeals, jumping up and down as you wrap your arms around her and giggle.

“Course I came, Sarah. Wouldn’t ‘ve missed your twenty-first birthday for the world, ‘re ya kiddin’?” She takes a step back, holding you by the shoulders before drawing you back in for another tight hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Jus’ didn’t know ‘f you’d be able to make it, didn’t know ‘f you’d have other plans or somethin’.” She bites her lip when you pull away this time, trying to hide the way she’s beaming at you, and a big smile paints your face.

“Nah, no plans more important than my best friend’s birthday.” She smiles and leads you back to the table, where your dad and Joel have already found their seats. You lean against her and whisper conspiratorially, “Did have to fight with my boss t’get some time off for the occasion, though. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes, like ya wouldn’t believe.” Sarah giggles, leveling you with a knowing grin.

“I’m sure I’ve got some idea,” she says as she takes her seat at the head of the table, and you slip around to take the only empty seat, which happens to be between Joel and Tommy, his younger brother that you’ve only seen a handful of times. You offer the younger Miller brother a polite smile, which he returns with a cheeky smirk before you turn back to the birthday girl.

“You’ve ain’t ever been that excited t’see me,” Joel says accusingly at Sarah, jerking his head toward where Sarah had practically tackled you, and you stifle a laugh at the hint of playful jealousy in his tone.

“‘s ‘cause I’m not a grumpy old man,” you snark, and Tommy guffaws beside you, reaching around your back to slap Joel’s shoulder lightheartedly.

“She gotcha there, big brother,” he says, accent saturated with his heavy Texas twang. Joel grumbles something incoherent and Tommy shoots you an amused wink. You watch your dad snort with laughter in his seat across from you, and Sarah’s boyfriend, Luke, who’s seated on her other side opposite Joel tries not to look too entertained by your ribbing of his girlfriend’s father, wisely busying himself with the menu.

A few minutes after ordering your drinks your waitress reappears carrying a large tray brimming with an assortment of alcoholic beverages. You take a sip of your Pinot Noir, hiding a small smile behind the fruity flavor as the waitress sets a large cocktail layered with green, white, and red liquid and adorned with a small Italian flag attached to a thin, black straw in front of a wide-eyed Sarah. You’re unable to mask your laughter, however, when Joel’s eyes find the massive drink and he nearly chokes on his sip of Peroni.

“Babygirl,” he sputters, still recovering from his small conniption, “that’s a lotta-”

“I’m twenty-one now, Dad, I can handle my alcohol,” Sarah assures him with an annoyed roll of her eyes and a look at you that says can you believe this guy? And it’s true, Sarah is more than capable of handling her drinks if the videos she’s shown you of her time at college are any indication.

“I know, jus’... jus’ pace yourself, yeah?” She concedes with a small huff, and you wiggle your eyebrows at her tauntingly.

“Yeah, Sarah, make sure ya pace yourself. Got a while ‘fore ya can hang with us big dogs. Right, Joel?” You elbow him in the side, and he looks at you disdainfully.

“You’re a little shit, y’know that?” he murmurs under his breath. You shrug, snagging a piece of fresh, warm bread from the basket the waitress sat in the middle of the table and dipping it in the plate of olive oil and seasoning before stuffing it in your mouth.

“Learned it fwom the besht,” you say merrily, grinning at him through your mouth full of food, and he sneers at you in disgust before turning his attention to your father and Tommy, who are in a heated debate over the Dallas Cowboys chances of success in the upcoming season.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Tommy, this s’our year! We jus’ picked up that kid from- from… aw shit, where’s he from again?” Your dad rubs his temples, hoping to dislodge the information from some small, dusty compartment of his brain.

“Notre Dame,” Joel chimes in as he reaches for his own piece of bread, and your dad snaps his fingers as his face lights up in remembrance.

“Notre Dame!” he bellows, and you shoot him a look that he promptly returns with an apologetic wince. “Notre Dame, yeah, s’right,” he says, quieter this time with a little smile, and you leave him and Tommy to continue their chat as you tune in to the conversation at the other end of the table.

“Anyway, Dad, so Becca-”

“Which one s’that?” Sarah looks at Joel in disbelief.

“Becca. Rebecca Landry. My best friend in high school, goes t’LSU with me, we lived together ‘fore I moved in with Luke…” Joel just stares at his daughter with vacant eyes, and you snort. “Dude, come on, ya literally grilled for her graduation party.” Joel shakes his head, taking a swig of his beer. You watch how his throat bobs as he swallows and quickly avert your eyes, hoping no one caught you gawking.

“Sorry, hon, doesn’t ring a bell.” She huffs, and Joel smirks, clearly just giving her a hard time.

“Whatever. Anyway, her boyfriend proposed to ‘er last week, and it was jus’ the cutest thing. Real private ‘cause y’know how she is. She told me they don’t have a date set yet, but they’re thinkin’ ‘bout next Spring. Said t’ask if she should add ya to the guest list.” Joel hums non-committally, clearly lacking an opinion on the matter, and you pinch his elbow. He jerks out of your grip, looking at you with annoyance, and you cock your head in Sarah’s direction. When he turns to see her expectant glance, he huffs, head leaning back as he stares at the ceiling.

“Tell ‘er I’ll be there,” Joel capitulates, and Sarah beams in excitement before giving you a grateful grin.

“Awesome! She’ll be so excited, she loves ya.” Joel crosses his arms over his broad chest, shaking his head slightly as he leans back in his chair and spreads his thighs farther. You have to try desperately to keep your breath from hitching at the action.

“Speakin’ o’ weddings and proposals n’ all that,” your dad says, giving Luke a friendly clap on the back. “When’s it your turn, buckaroo? ‘s been, what, three years of datin’? Gotta be soon, hm?”

Luke looks like he wants nothing more than to melt into a puddle and sink into the floor at the line of questioning, something your dad remains completely oblivious to. Feeling bad, you throw the guy a lifeline.

“Leave ‘im alone, Dad. Jesus, you ain’t even that interested in my love life,” you huff, sipping your wine. Luke seems to remember how to breathe, a look of thanks on his face as your dad scrunches his nose up.

“‘s cause I’m not. Don’t wanna know about some boy who’s wastin’ your time ‘cause he ain’t good ‘nough for ya.”

“Your daddy’s right, hon, ya deserve more than what some boy can give ya ,” you hear from your right side, and then a thick arm drapes loosely over your shoulders. You turn to look at Tommy, who’s closer to you than the last time you paid him any attention.

“Knock it off, Tommy,” you hear Joel grumble, and you watch Tommy’s eyes dart over your shoulder and narrow minutely. An expression of innocence plasters over his face to quickly replace the mischievous smirk previously there.

“Knock what off, big brother?” Your gaze shifts to Joel, and you nearly wilt at the stormy look he’s shooting his brother. His eyes are simultaneously full of emotion and totally unreadable, jaw ticking in… wait, is he jealous?

“Quit.” You bristle at Joel’s harsh tone, not realizing until it’s too late that when you shrink back at his timbre, you lean further into Tommy. You can feel the egotism rolling off of the younger Miller brother, and the tension building in Joel’s figure seems to grow until he’s at serious risk of snapping. You’re sure that the only way this ends is with Tommy making another haughty comment that results in Joel leaping over your lap and strangling the man…

“Alright, who ordered the lasagna?” Your waitress’ voice dissipates the thunderous air instantaneously, and everyone’s attention snaps to her. The wide, practiced smile she’s wearing falters for just a second, and she shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, ‘m I interrupting somethin’?” The tight pinch of Joel’s face evaporates before your eye, and you watch, stunned, as he turns toward your waitress.

“Nah, darlin’, you’re alright. Reckon that’ll be mine,” he says, cool as clam. By the time all the food is dished out and you’re digging into your respective dinners, the near fight is long forgotten. Unfortunately, you’re not able to shake the bitter feeling of envy that twisted in your stomach at hearing Joel call the waitress “darlin’”.

Before long, all six of your plates have been cleaned, and each of you sits back in your chairs, thoroughly stuffed full of rich Italian food. Your dad belches, drawing a laugh from the other men at the table while your and Sarah’s faces pinch in distaste, and the casual conversation continues as the street outside grows raucous with the Austin nightlife.

Your dad, ever the chatterbox, is going on about some upcoming project at his contracting firm when you feel it: the firm weight of an arm draped over the backrest of your seat. You pay it no mind at first, chalking it up to Tommy’s touchy but harmless hands.

That is until you feel soft, gentle shapes being drawn into the bare skin of your bicep on Tommy’s side. Your brain doesn’t comprehend the logistics of this immediately, and your head snaps in Tommy’s direction to find the younger man’s attention focused raptly on your father with his hands in his lap.

Your back straightens, and goosebumps prickle across your skin when it finally clicks whose hands are on you; you slowly, inconspicuously face your father again, pretending like you’re listening so as not to spark anyone at the table’s awareness, all while peeking at Joel out of the corner of your eye.

At first glance, it appears that he, like everyone else at the table, is completely engaged with the words tumbling from your dad’s mouth. But you know Joel too well. You pick up on the slight quirk of his lips, the way his thick thighs spread almost obnoxiously wide so his knee grazes yours, and how he’s drumming the thick fingers of his other hand rhythmically against the table. Joel felt how your body reacted to his touch.

And he liked it.

That piece of information is what has the low burn in your belly from earlier in your bedroom reigniting, blazing up your skin and making your neck and chest flush a deep red. Joel must be able to sense your blundering state because he removes his hand from you altogether, causing your heart to drop. Your whole body begins to slump in disappointment just as you feel Joel replace his touch on the bare skin of your thigh, exposed when you sat down and the already short dress you’d thrown on in a panic earlier rode higher up your legs.

He squeezes you there, thumb passing back and forth lightly, and your thighs spread of their own volition to allow him more room. You can see his eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but he’s able to play it off easily as a reaction to your dad’s story. You do the same with the small smile that stretches your lips as his hand begins to creep higher up your leg.

And it’s risky, what you’re doing. Allowing your dad’s best friend, the father of the girl you’ve lived next to almost your entire life, your boss, to inch his big, calloused hand closer and closer to where you want him most right here at this very public dinner.

And yet, you simply do not care.

Well, you don’t care until you feel the pad of his thumb brush your sex over your panties, and you jerk at the sensation, thighs closing to stop the movement of his hands. The action draws your dad’s attention to you, and his brow furrows as he scans your face.

“You okay, hon? You’re not lookin’ too hot.” Your pulse thunders in your ears as you fumble for an excuse.

“No, yeah, ‘m fine. Jus’... yeah, not – uh, not feelin’ too hot.” Everyone at the table looks at you with concern. Even Joel, though his eyes possess an air of arrogance at your state. The bastard.

“Babe, you can go home ‘f ya need to,” Sarah says, and your eyes go wide as you shake your head.

“No! No, ’m fine, really. I wanna stay for you, ‘s your birthday ‘n all.”

She waves her hand as though she’s physically batting away your excuse. “Party’s basically over anyway. Luke and I were gonna meet some friends at a bar a few blocks over anyway, so y’all are good t’go whenever.”

“Well, I’m ready t'head home now,” your dad says, beginning to rise from his chair. “Rangers game ’s on at 9, and 'f we hurry, I won’t miss more than the first inning.” Joel, reading your dad’s eagerness to get home as his cue to be ready to leave as well, stands, and you catch the way he subtly adjusts himself on the way up. You resign yourself to the fact that the fleeting, secret moment between you is slipping through your fingers, and, albeit reluctantly, you follow his lead.

Tommy’s still seated, sipping casually from his beer, when he informs your dad, “Nah, man, it’s Friday night in downtown Austin. Reckon y’all won’t get home ‘til the third inning, at least.” Your father curses, running a hand over his semi-bald head in genuine worry, and you almost have to laugh at the concern twisting his features into a grimace. The urge to laugh quickly fades as you watch Tommy shrug his shoulders and carelessly say, “There’s a place 'bout five minutes away, lil’ sports bar my buddies and I go to t’watch the game sometimes. Can get kinda rowdy, but you’re welcome to tag along, ‘f ya want.”

Your jaw almost falls off at Tommy, who’s completely oblivious to the bone he’s just thrown you. When you turn just enough to allow you a view of Joel out of the corner of your eye, you immediately notice his almost imperceptibly stiffer posture. You watch your dad’s face light up with excitement, a hell yeah on the tip of his tongue.

And then, suddenly, his expression drops and he’s looking at you guiltily. “Aww shit, Tommy, that sounds great, but ‘f this one,” he says, jabbing a thumb in your direction, “ain’t feelin’ well, I oughta get ‘er home.” Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You go to object, to insist, practically beg your dad to take Tommy up on his offer so that it’s just you and Joel on the ride home, but Joel beats you to it. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, man, I’ll take ‘er.” For the second time in mere minutes, you’re filled with the overwhelming urge to gawk at one of the Miller brothers.

“You sure, Joel? Don’t wanna inconvenience ya or nothin’.” You watch Joel shrug, and then he turns to you, pinning you with an unreadable stare.

“Y’alright with that, lady?” You stare at him, speechless. Are you alright with spending the entire ride home, perhaps even longer if your dad stays to watch the whole game and Sarah is bar-hopping, alone with Joel Miller right after his hand was brushing against your wet, wanting pussy?

Yeah, you were pretty fucking alright with that.

Your silence must draw on for an uncomfortably long time because Joel raises his eyebrows at you, prompting an answer. “Yes!” you say, just a touch too loud, and you take a deep breath before turning back to your dad. “Yeah, sounds good – cool, ‘s cool with me.”

Your dad gives you one more half-hearted once-over, verifying that you don’t need his escort home, but he’s in a losing battle with himself; the moment that Joel offered his services, your dad was sold. The coy little, “Well, ‘f you’re sure it’s not too much trouble,” he extends to Joel is like a tepid stamp of finality as his mind is already half-full with Rangers jargon.

Joel gives your dad a nod before jerking his head toward the door. “C’mon, darlin’, let’s get ya home.” And you try, you really do try not to walk with your chest puffed out the entire way to Joel’s truck. You try to keep up the facade of illness that was brought on by your lustful tizzy.

But Joel called you darlin’, and fuck if it didn’t sound better falling from his lips when it was directed at you and not some waitress.

***

Tommy, for perhaps the first time in his entire life, was right; traffic absolutely crawled in the downtown Austin area at this time on a Friday night. You’d peeled away from the restaurant almost thirty minutes ago, when the sun was beginning its descent.

Now, the analog numbers on Joel’s dash blink 8:57 p.m. , the summer sky having just shifted from muddy brown to steel grey and will soon start to give way to the dark of night and the whisperings of stars, and you’ve just managed to make it out of the city.

Thirty minutes, nearly two thousand seconds, and each one totally void of speech. Joel stared straight out the front windshield, hands carefully gripping the steering wheel as you leaned your cheek against the cool glass of the passenger window and watched the metro landscape give way to soil and farmland, groups of clubgoers replaced by black and brown spotted cows.

It’s not until the current CD in Joel’s radio reaches its end and the gears click, switching to the familiar crooning voice of Bob Dylan, that your soft singing breaks the silence.

“What was that?” Joel asks, and you turn your gaze to watch him, focus still intent on the road in front of him.

“Nothin’, just singin’.” He looks at you then, just a quick glance in your direction, but it makes your blood sing.

“Y’like Bob Dylan? “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”, hm?” You shrug noncommittally, and his responding smirk makes you sit up in your seat.

“What’re ya laughin’ at?” Joel just shakes his head, and you lean over and swat his bicep playfully. “What?”

“Nothin’, baby.” The word sounds perfect in his low, gruff timbre, and you grin stupidly. When he sees your expression, he reaches over and wraps his big palm around your knee, giving it a shake. “Got good taste s’all. Didn’t expect it from ya.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to pretend like the large spread of his hand over your bare skin doesn’t make your core throb.

“Don’t act so surprised, Miller. You should know better than anyone how much I like old shit.” He clucks his tongue, sliding his hand farther up your leg and squeezing your thigh in warning.

“Careful,” he advises teasingly, but you’re not feeling particularly cautious tonight.

“Says you.”

“Says me?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat behind the action as all the warmth in your body is currently shooting to a spot in your tummy. “Yeah, Joel, says you. I wasn’t the one with my hands between your legs in the middle of dinner tonight.” You watch Joel’s posture straighten and you try to hide your grin at his reaction.

Bingo.

You bite your lip and watch his eyes dart in your direction. Even in the ever-darkening dusk, you can see the hint of hunger in his pupils. “Didn’t see you complainin’.” You adjust in your seat, and Joel’s hand slips higher, his pinky just barely dipping beneath the hem of your dress.

“‘s ‘cause I liked it,” you say matter-of-factly, and you watch him exhale heavily. His head swings lazily to look at you, eyes dropping to where his palm rests on your slightly spread thighs before traveling up to meet your stare.

“Yeah? Liked me touchin’ your pussy with all those people ‘round? Any of ‘em coulda caught us, pretty girl. Coulda caught me feelin’ how fuckin’ wet you were, soakin’ through your panties.” And you’re almost sure Joel’s trying to make a point in there somewhere. That what you two did was risky in and of itself, not to mention the fact that he was touching you like that in public.

And yet all you can focus on is that name. Pretty girl. You think it’s your favorite thing he’s ever called you.

When you don’t answer right away, Joel looks back to the road. You watch him check the rearview mirror, and then he’s making a left down a long road and parking the car on a small dirt pull-off a few hundred feet in.

You look around, surveying your surroundings; tall prairie grass decorates your side of the road while a large cornfield stretches over the side closest to Joel, and the only thing lighting the earth for a few miles in any direction is the soft glow of the moon overhead. When you focus your attention on Joel again, half of his face is shadowed while the gleam of lunar opalescence illuminates the other half.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, and you can’t help but stare. You reach toward Joel, cautiously at first, but emboldened when he squeezes your leg. You cup his jaw and rub your thumb over his stubbled jaw; his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and you shuffle closer, Joel’s hand falling away from you as you sit up on your knees and reach across the center console to cup the dark side of his face with your other hand.

His palm finds a new position on your hip, and when his eyes open again, revealing his dark, chocolatey irises to you, your body leans closer toward his of its own volition. As if something inside of him, perhaps the very marrow of his bones, is magnetized to yours.

“Joel,” you say, soft voice cutting through the silence in the cab of the truck.

“Hmm?”

“Is this… is this bad? What we’re doing?’ His eyes dart around your face, taking in your heated gaze with a warmth of his own. He sighs as his other hand traces up the side of your body before slipping around your shoulders and resting on the nape of your neck.

“I wouldn’t say it’s good.” You nod, scratching your nails lightly through the salt-and-pepper beard he’s let grow.

“Should we stop?” It comes out as a whisper, laced with apprehension, tediousness, and want. So, so much want.

“Probably.” And he’s right. Whatever this thing between you and Joel is, it’s not feasible. Sure, it would be great. Amazing, even… until it’s not. Until the appetite for each other dies out and what’s left is a hollow skeleton of awkward encounters and forced conversation to keep up appearances.

Either that or the hunger becomes all-consuming, to the point where you can’t eat, can’t breathe, can’t sleep without thoughts of Joel dominating your mind.

And maybe that’s worse, you think. Finding out what Joel tastes like, what it feels like when he sinks into your wet heat, just for it to one day be stolen from you.

Because there isn’t an angle to approach this from that doesn’t end in the same unfortunate reality; Joel can’t be yours. He will never be yours.

And, so, yeah. You probably should stop. But as you go to pull away, to take your hands off of Joel and sit back in your seat while Joel returns the truck to the main road before depositing you safely at home like the good friend he is, Joel’s grip on the nape of your neck tightens. And then he’s tugging your mouth to meet his and your hands, still cupping his cheek, are pulling his face in to meet you halfway.

When Joel’s lips slot against yours, you’re surprised by how soft he is. Joel Miller, perpetually gruff and probably born with callouses etched into his hands, is so inconceivably gentle at the first contact of his mouth against yours. You sigh, breathing him in as he threads his fingers into your hair, and a moment of tranquility washes over you. This truck is the only place that has ever or will ever exist, and you and Joel are the only two people in the world.

You slide one of your hands from his jaw to his neck, stroking the solid strength of his throat, and a rough noise vibrates from him. You repeat the motion experimentally, and he groans into you, tongue darting out to politely ask for entrance into your mouth.

You accept with an enthusiastic moan, and that’s when the seemingly endless reservoir of Joel’s reserve drains dry. He licks into you, tongue caressing yours when you part your lips for him, and the hand in your hair tightens, keeping you held steadily against him. He feasts on you, stealing the air you breathe as he kisses you ferociously.

Joel sucks on your tongue when you go to mewl, and the sound is replaced by a wanton whine. You roll your hips over nothing, and Joel clocks the movement immediately. You feel his reluctance as he drags his mouth from yours, and you sit and wait, carefully assessing every minute change in his expression as you try to regain your composure.

You’re sure you’re supposed to be embarrassed right now, ashamed that you couldn’t keep your neediness in check. However, you can only think about two things: how fucking horny you are at the moment, and how that was probably the only time you’ll ever kiss Joel because this entire thing is about to come crashing down in short-lived, fiery oblivion.

But Joel does something. Something that really shocks you, leaves you vulnerable to attack and exposed right down to the root of you. He looks you up and down, from the slightly frumpled state of your green dress to the no-doubt wild gleam in your eyes, and smirks before saying, “You need t’be filled up, don’t ya, baby?”

You smile and nod, licking your lips as you appraise the man sitting in front of you. He’s so intoxicatingly broad, the sleeves of his shirt stretching tightly over his biceps while the legs of his jeans pull taut along his thighs. You shift in your seat again, causing Joel to pull you closer, and though you’re uncomfortably sprawled across the center console, you’ve never felt more right than you do right now.

Your lips are brushing Joel’s, so close you can feel the warm puffs of breath leaving his nostrils, and any slight surge forward by either of you would connect your mouths again. Instead, you stay like that, so close but still too far for your liking.

“Tell me what it is you want, sweetheart.” You angle your head, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before drifting your lips back to hover over his.

“Want your cock, Joel.” Your bluntness must take him by surprise because his head falls back against his seat and he groans. You take the opportunity to drop your lips to his neck, kissing it lightly before licking up the column of his throat and biting delicately at the junction where his neck meets his jaw.

“Yeah?” He takes one of your hands and drags it down his front, letting you feel the muted strength of his abdomen tailored from years of manual labor and the soft swell of his belly before landing on the thick bulge in his pants. You pull away from where you were beginning to leave a small bruise on his neck to look at where your hand cups his clothed erection, and you practically drool at the sight. “You want this, hmm?”

“Yes,” you confirm airily before your eyes snap up to meet his, heavy-lidded and clouded with lust. “Please, Joel, I- I need it.” He nods, the hand that guided yours leaving you to your own devices and drifting back up to rub his thumb over your lips. You take the opportunity to massage him through his pants, and he sighs, smirking at you.

“Tell me where ya need it, honey,” he lilts, and you grip his bicep as you squeeze his cock lightly. “Need it here?” He nudges his thumb gently between your parted lips, and even as you shake your head, your mouth opens to him, allowing him to push his finger inside. You swirl your tongue over the salty pad of his thumb, switching to mellow kitten licks before taking it deeper.

“No?” he asks, quirking a brow at you. He presses his thumb down against your tongue, and you open your mouth wide so he can see down your throat. “Gotta tell me where then, baby.” You close your mouth again, sucking on his thumb briefly before pulling off of him with a lewd pop.

Your eyes never leave his, and you watch them turn impossibly darker when you tell him earnestly, “My pussy. Want you to stretch my cunt with your fat cock.” He huffs lightly at the vulgarity of your words, and you squeeze him through his pants again.

“You’re a dirty fuckin’ girl, y’know that?” He looks almost in awe, and you smirk at him, beginning to crawl across the center console to straddle him. When he stops you with a hand to your sternum, you look at him in confusion. “We can’t tonight, darlin’. Wanna take my time with you when I fuck ya, gotta make sure I get ya ready.”

You’re so utterly disappointed you ache with it, pouting at him as you draw in close. “But I’m ready now, Joel. So fuckin’ wet for you, have been since the restaurant.”

He gives you a chaste kiss before pulling back and jerking his head toward your seat. “Show me.” You smirk as you slink back into your seat. You rest with your back against the car door, your right leg dangling off the seat while you tuck your left leg up and spread your knees farther apart, causing the hem of your dress to ride up your thighs until it’s brushing your tummy. You can tell by the wrecked look in Joel’s eyes that from this angle, he has a perfect view of the damp spot decorating the slip of pink lace that is your underwear.

“Fuck, baby, ya weren’t lyin’,” he mutters, fingers smoothing his mustache. “Pretty lil’ panties are soaked. That all for me?” You bite your lip and nod, pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy as you ghost your fingertips over the soft skin of your thighs. He makes a noise of appreciation as he watches your movements hungrily, fist clenching as your digits move closer to your aching core.

“Mhm, f’course it is,” you assure, letting out a breathless, needy gasp when your fingers brush your clit over your underwear. You’re sure you must look fucked out, and you’d be embarrassed by that fact if it weren’t for the heady look Joel’s pinning you with right now. You whine as Joel brings his hand down to palm the thick, rigid outline of his cock bulging against his jeans, and your mouth goes dry at the sight. You roll your hips and whine at the stimulation, doing it again without breaking eye contact with Joel.

He squeezes himself and groans as you rut slowly against yourself, dipping a finger down to tease at your soaking entrance over your damp panties, and he smirks. “You gonna show me how ya fuck yourself, baby? Show me how ya like it, hm?”

And you would. You really, really would. Except Joel Miller is sitting in front of you with nothing but a few measly scraps of fabric preventing you from his hard length, and you think that it would be such a waste to not take advantage of that fact.

Besides, you’ve already made yourself come more times than you can count with Joel Miller’s name on your tongue.

“No, baby,” you shake your head, and his brows pinch in confusion. You lick your lips, hand halting its ministrations as you sit up on your haunches and stare at Joel. “Want ya to fill me up.”

He huffs exasperatedly at that, and his tone is laced with annoyance when he says, “Jus’ told ya, ‘m not fuckin’ ya t’night-”

“Joel.” Your interruption shuts him up and he watches you lean in. You brush your lips over his, along his jaw and up his cheek before halting by his ear. “I want you,” you say, dragging a hand down his chest to rest over his in his lap, “to put your cock in my mouth and fill me up.”

You apply pressure down over his hand, making him squeeze himself and the sound he makes is something close to a growl. He angles his head so that your lips meet for a heated kiss and he licks into your mouth immediately, tongue dancing with yours.

“Yeah?” Joel breathes into your mouth, and the hand not palming his dick threads into the hair at the nape of your neck. He tugs, pulling your head back so that you look down your nose at him with wide eyes and heavy lids. “Ya wanna suck me off?” You smile almost shyly and nod, and he tuts at you, bending to kiss the hollow of your throat before licking a stripe up your neck.

“Don’t go quiet on me now, darlin’. You had so much t’say earlier, know this pretty mouth s’good for more than just takin’ my dick.” You whine, pressing your thighs together as best you can and rubbing, trying to give yourself some, any friction.

“Wanna taste you, Joel,” you murmur, already delirious and you haven’t even gotten your mouth on him. “Want it so bad, please.”

He rakes his eyes over you, takes in the needy glide of your thighs against each other and the ragged pants making your chest heave. He must take pity on your haggard form because he grins affectionately and releases his hand from your hair.

“Since ya asked so nicely,” he says, palm gliding around to sit on your shoulder. He strokes the column of your throat a few times, watching you with a hooded gaze before nodding toward his crotch. “Go on, baby. Show me how much ya want it.”

You don’t need to be told any more than that before you’re hastily undoing his belt, ripping it from his pants and tossing it into the backseat while simultaneously popping the button on his jeans. Where your movements are hurried and ravenous, Joel’s are soft and sweet; he strokes your back lightly, broad, calloused palm feeling heavenly as it tracks over your bare skin.

You lower the zipper on his jeans and he lifts his hips, allowing you to drag the coarse fabric down his thighs. It takes you a second after you’ve maneuvered his pants out of your way to realize you’re face to face with the stiff outline of Joel’s cock, straining against the black fabric of his boxers. Your mouth goes chalky when you see the small dot of moisture near his fat tip, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning over and pressing a kiss to the spot.

Your groan is in unison with his, and Joel must be growing impatient because his hand snakes up to gently cradle your neck. “Don’t be a tease, pretty girl,” he scolds tenderly, and the endearment causes you to look up at him through your lashes. What you find in his eyes is something lusty, full of desire and want and… pure, unadulterated awe. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Wasn’t bein’ a tease,” you say, bending back down to mouth at his cock over his boxers, and he moans when you lave at his swollen tip through his underwear.

“Nah, jus’ so needy ya can’t even wait ‘til I get my cock out t’put your mouth on it, hm?” You lick up his dick and feel it twitch, his thigh tensing underneath the hand you have braced there. You smirk, looking up at him as you dip your pointer fingers under the band of his underwear, hooking your digits and arching your eyebrow.

He acquiesces with a lazy smile, lifting his hips, and you slowly drag the tight fabric of his boxers down to where his pants pool around his knees. However, you don’t immediately look at Joel’s length after fully freeing it from the confines of his clothes. You’re not sure why a cool feeling of nervous anticipation washes over you, but you find yourself stalling, rubbing your thumb over the inside of his knee and kissing his thigh gently.

Joel, the attentive man he is, picks up on your nerves immediately. He massages the area where your spine meets your skull, and you practically melt at the feeling. “Y’okay?” he says softly, and you nod, turning your head to rest on his thigh. Your eyes avoid his dick, jumping up to land on his face. His expression is so kind, so compassionate and observant, that it makes you ache.

“‘m fine. More than fine, ‘m good. Great.” He nods, stroking your cheek before he frowns.

“Y’know, ‘f ya aren’t feelin’ it anymore, we can stop. We don’t have’ta-”

“S’not that,” you mutter, and he stops talking, waiting for you to go on. You inhale deeply, looking for the courage to speak your thoughts into the charged atmosphere of the truck. “I jus’... don’t want ya to regret this.” He flashes you a perplexed look before tipping his head back and laughing. Your cheeks blaze with heat, embarrassment creeping in to tamper the fire of want, and you bury your face into Joel’s thigh to hide.

“Baby,” he says, and when you don’t respond, he grabs your jaw and makes you turn to him. “Baby. Look at me.” You stare, lip twisted in your teeth, and you can’t help but feel small under the weight of his gaze. He angles your chin down then, and you finally let your eyes fall, taking in the cock you’ve tried to conjure in your imagination while your fingers were stuffed in your pussy more times than you can count.

In a word, Joel Miller’s dick is pretty. Thick and long and tan. Veiny and girthy, easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. His tip, which is a few shades darker than every other part of his length, is an angry red, weeping precome from the little slit at the top. The thick weight of him bobs up and sits at attention against his belly, resting against him obediently. Your mouth pools with saliva at the sight of it.

Through the cotton in your ears, you can just barely make out when Joel says, “You tell me, honey. ‘s that look like regret t’you?” You swallow thickly and shake your head.

“N-no,” you stutter, sitting up slightly. You admire the way pearly beads of precome trail down his length and subconsciously lick your lips.

“No.” You can feel his stare on the side of your face, but you can’t focus on anything except the cock in front of you that has you drooling while your cunt begs to be filled. “Want this, sweet girl, jus’ as bad as you, and that ain’t gonna change tomorrow or the day after or next week. I want this,” he says, and he says it with such confidence and surety that you have no choice but to believe him. You nod, almost in a trance, before bending over and pressing a chaste kiss to his fat head.

He must not have been expecting that response from you because at the contact of your lips against his hard member, his head falls back against the seat and he groans, the sound drawing out when you start to press soft kitten licks to his slit.

“That’s it, honey – fuck, feels good.” You preen under his praise, smirking as you spread your lips to wrap around his tip. He hisses through his teeth, and the noise is all you need to start slowly working him down your throat. He’s so big, and even just the head of his cock has your jaw straining slightly.

You know that there’s no way you’ll be able to take him fully in your mouth, that you’ll have to use one, if not both hands to stroke the rest of his long, thick dick as you focus your attention on the head. But that doesn’t stop you from trying.

You pull off of him quickly, and he responds with a disappointed little grunt, mouth turned down in a depressing little frown. That is, until he watches you spit into your hand and place your palm around his base, stroking him slowly. A lopsided smile replaces his previous expression and when you twist your fist at the same time your mouth latches back onto his cock, he can’t help but jerk his hips. Joel’s thrust makes his tip kiss the back of your throat and it takes you by surprise, making you gag.

You watch his eyes go wide in worry as he immediately murmurs, “‘m sorry, baby,” his voice utterly wrecked. You lick from the space your fist occupies and swirl your tongue over him a few times, looking into his eyes as you catch your breath.

“S’okay, Joel,” you purr, lips against him as his cock twitches at the low cadence of your voice. “I can handle it, I won’t break.” And then you’re right back to easing him down your throat. Drool dribbles from your mouth as you work him in your fist, stroking and twisting and pulling while your tongue focuses on the sensitive area you’ve discovered just under his head.

The cab of the truck fills with the melody of your slick mouth sucking Joel off, punctuated by the sweet sounds falling from his lips. Joel isn’t a particularly talkative person, but you’re incredibly happy to find that all that changed when your head was bobbing up and down his length.

“Good girl, perfect fuckin’ girl,” he grits out, tightening his hand into a fist and slamming it against his window a few times as he struggles to keep his hips stationary. You hum around him, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to thread into your hair to encourage him to move. A throaty groan rips through him as he realizes what you’re asking, and he thrusts lightly into your mouth.

You relax your throat, allowing him to push deeper than he had been just a minute ago, and the feeling of being so utterly full of him makes you whine, shuffling slightly to relieve the pressure building at the apex of your thighs.

“Y’like that, sweetheart? Like when I fuck your pretty face?” The utter filth he’s spewing at you makes you gasp and whimper, and he laughs almost smugly at your reaction to his words. “Yeahhh, you like that. Go on, baby, touch yourself while you suck my cock.” You don’t have to be told twice, snaking your hand down to rub frantically at your aching clit while he slowly, gently jerks his hips into the tight, warm, wet vice of your mouth.

You feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm in no time, seeing as how you were already thoroughly worked up from your little display at the restaurant and everything that’s transpired in Joel’s truck since. Actually, if you’re being honest, you’ve been soaking into your panties since that stunt you pulled in your room before you even made it to dinner.

You feel stuffed to the brim, Joel’s cock hitting a spot in your throat over and over that has tears of pleasure dripping down your cheeks to combine with your spit lathering his cock. He brushes his big thumb over the path a tear careens down, brushing away the wetness as he drags his hand down to cradle your throat.

“Doin’ real good for me, doin’ perfect.” He squeezes lightly around your neck and curses. “Shit, darlin’, I can feel my cock right here.” He taps your throat and you whine, eyes rolling back as you rut desperately against your fingers. You’re so, so close, and you can tell that Joel is too by the way his tempered pace is growing more erratic, his shallow thrusts less controlled. The noises dripping from his lips to meet your ears are gruffer now too, words he’s failing to string into sentences as they're cut off by expletives and needy moans.

Joel looses a low, gravelly groan that signals he’s mere moments from reaching his peak, and you hear him choke out, “Where do ya want it, baby?’ just as the pull of pleasure burning in your tummy goes taut. You don’t answer, opting instead to simply pull off of him and seat your open mouth at the head of his cock, sticking your tongue out and looking up into his face. Joel smirks as you continue jerking him off with the hand not paying attention to your clit, but his smile falls into a slack-jawed look of lust as his balls pull tight and he comes.

The thick ropes of warm cum spurting over your tongue and decorating the inside of your mouth are just what you need to push you into your own climax; your legs shake and you let a high-pitched sound ring through the truck cab as your cunt clenches hard around nothing, wetness seeping from your underwear and coating the insides of your thighs.

Despite your own orgasm, you make sure to catch every last drop of Joel’s spend, holding it on your tongue for him to see. The space goes silent for a few seconds, both of you basking in your respective post-coital bliss as your eyes scan over each other. Your gaze hangs heavy as he takes in your sweaty, disheveled form languidly before landing back on your face. Joel shoots you an endearing, sweet look, before brushing the hair plastered to your sweaty forehead away from your face.

“Go on, honey. Swallow it f’me.” You do as Joel says, swallowing the sticky fluid he’s shot down your throat, and you find the salty, tangy taste surprisingly pleasant. You clean the corners of your mouth where some of his seed landed with your thumb and, with his eyes on you, push the digit into your mouth, sucking it dry. The dirty act makes Joel shake his head and chuckle, and once you’ve finished, you open your mouth and tip your head back to show him that you’ve taken care of his mess.

You both sit there for a while, just staring at each other with your head resting on his thigh as he strokes your cheek. You’d almost call the gesture loving, but you don’t want to be presumptuous. After a decent amount of time has passed and the stars have come to bear witness to your dirty deed, you turn your head and catch the pad of Joel’s thumb in a soft kiss.

“Oughta get back,” you say, reluctantly breaking the silence. He nods, and you stay like that for a second longer before sitting back in your seat. Joel starts the truck and traverses down the lonely path toward the main road. As he pulls back out onto the black asphalt, likely still warm from the summer sun that’s long disappeared, you can’t help but wonder if this moment will forever belong to the space between that long stretch of prairie grass and corn stalks.

You can’t help but hope that it won’t.

***

As Joel nears your development, you pull down the sun visor on your side and flip open the mirror. Your mouth falls open and a little gasp slips at the sight that meets your eyes. Joel must hear it because his gaze flickers in your direction.

“Somethin’ the matter?” he asks, worry lacing your tone, and you almost giggle at his concern.

“I’m a fuckin’ mess,” you groan, raking your fingers through the hair that Joel’s fingers knotted. Your lips are swollen and chapped, your eyelids heavy with the look of lust, and there’s a track of mascara streaking down your cheek from your tears. To put it bluntly, you look like you’ve been freshly fucked.

Joel looks at you again and barks out a laugh as he turns down your street; he pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park so that he can turn to you more fully. You’re frantically trying to will the bright blush on your cheeks indicative of sex from your cheeks as you wipe furiously at the now-dried trail of black mascara.

“Waterproof” my ass.

Your head snaps in Joel’s direction when you hear him chuckle again, your eyes wide with a plea for help. He shrugs, smirking slightly. “Better get inside ‘fore someone sees ya, or else they’ll know what we’ve been up to.”

You know he’s teasing, but his words make you deflate slightly nonetheless as they feel a little bit like he’s kicking you out; however, you steel yourself quickly. There was nothing for him to kick you out of, and it was silly of you to think otherwise. Sure, you’d just sucked his dick and made him come down your throat. And, yeah, maybe he’d almost gotten caught with his hand between your legs at dinner. But that didn’t mean anything.

Just two adults engaging in a casual hookup. That’s all.

Even as you try and convince yourself of this, your reasoning, and consequently your attitude, falls flat. You grunt with thinly veiled annoyance as you grab the door handle and make to leave. “Could’ve jus’ parked at your house, I woulda walked,” you mutter, irritation simmering in your gut as you go to open the door, but then a strong hand reaches across your lap to wrap around your hand on the handle and pull it back shut.

When you try again and are met with the same result, you huff and turn, coming face to face with Joel. His brows are furrowed and the corner of his plush lips are turned down. You hate yourself for wanting to kiss him right now, even though he’s actively telling you to go while not allowing you to do so.

“What?” you bite out, and it comes out harsher than you mean it to. He squeezes your hand, and you feel tension you didn’t realize was making your body go rigid ease.

“What’s a’matter, baby?” The pet name makes you blush, and now you feel even more stupid.

“Nothin’,” you lie. Rather convincingly too, you think proudly, until Joel cocks an eyebrow and informs you just how shoddy your facade is.

“Know ya too well t’believe that bullshit. Tell me what’s wrong.” You huff, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You drop your hands into your lap, eyes falling to watch your thumbs twiddle. You don’t think you can look into those all-consuming brown eyes right now.

“Jus’... I dunno, bein’ dumb. Thought you were kickin’ me out or somethin’.” You shrug indifferently, and he sits there for a second, watching you fidget nervously. You see him scan your surroundings out of the corner of your eye, making sure no prying eyes are around, and before you can even react, Joel’s gripping the back of your neck and turning your head to meet his lips in a bruising kiss. You melt into him, sighing in relief at the feeling of his tongue licking the seam of your mouth.

You stay like that, greedily tasting each other. Or, in Joel’s case, greedily tasting the lingering flavor of himself in your mouth. He pulls back suddenly, chest heaving and eyes dark, and you lick your lips and grin at him.

“I’ll see ya soon, baby,” he says with conviction, and you nod slowly. But apparently your response isn’t convincing enough for him, because he pulls you in closer and says against your lips slowly, “I will see you soon.”

“Okay,” you breathe into his mouth, and he kisses you chastely once, twice before opening your door and tapping your thigh.

“Now get.” You smile, hopping out of his car, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire way to your front door. Even when you’ve disappeared into your house, you can feel the brand of his gaze on your flesh.

You watch through the window as he sits in his truck for another minute, and then he reverses down your driveway and pulls into the one next door, hopping out of his truck and leisurely heading up to his front door. You watch him walk into his house, and only then do you stop watching.

You’re not entirely sure how you get up to your bedroom, but you’re almost able to believe that you floated there like an apparition, head airy and thoughts bordering on dream-like. When you collapse on your bed, your mind is on the feel of Joel’s tongue in your mouth, of his cock thrusting into your throat, of what that same tongue and those same thrusts might feel like in your pussy.

What you’re not thinking about is how utterly fucked you are. You’d told yourself once that you wouldn’t be able to do a thing like this with Joel because you’d never have your fill, always wanting more after that first initial taste of him. But you’d gone against your better judgment tonight, and now that little crack of yearning had split into a yawning chasm of want; greedy and unsatiated and hungry.

Hungry for one thing, one person, one man: Joel Miller.

Yeah, you were fucked

___________________________________________________________

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #dad!joel miller #dbf!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel fic #joel the last of us

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racinggirl · 3 months

Text

that's my girl

Lando Norris fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: it took me a bit longer as I have been quite busy this last week, but it's hereeee! I hope you like it, I have to say I love badass Y/N a lot, so thank you for the request! It's a bit shorter, but we need some variation in life, don't we? Let me know your thoughts! It's not proofread, so be aware for any minor mistakes, if there are some. Lots of loveeee. Don't forget to send in requests! I love all the requests I've gotten so far 🫶🏼

‘’What kind of snacks do you want?’’ You asked your boyfriend as you were preparing some somewhat healthy snacks before he would go live on Twitch. You were filling up a bowl with Maltesers because, let’s be honest, who doesn’t like those? You then decided to grab a knife and cut the cheese and cucumber to make the tray snacks somewhat healthier.

‘’Can you lay on the tray?’’ Lando wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to tilt your head when he planted soft kisses on your neck. ‘’You already had that snack not too long ago, mister Norris.’’ You teased, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his hands making its way under your shirt, close to your bra.

‘’Nah, ah.’’ You put down the knife and took both his hands in yours, moving them down and placing them on your hips before reaching back for the knife. Your action caused him to groan, and you simply smirked as you felt how much he needed you, because let’s be honest here, it was impossible to not feel him through his jeans.

‘’Grapes, mango?’’ You continued, focussing back on the tray of deliciousness in front of you. ‘’Chocolate covered strawberries.’’ He replied, walking to the fridge. ‘’Yeah, ehm, about those…’’ You bite your lip as you looked over at the – way too perfect – McLaren driver, who happened to be your boyfriend.

‘’No, you ate them?’’ He asked, turning 45 degrees to look at you with puppy eyes. ‘’Oh stop it! You ate my piece of cake the other day!’’ You laughed, feeling his hands on your body as he tickled you. ‘’Lando! Stop!’’ You managed to breathe out in between your laughter.

‘’You ate my strawberries!’’ He exclaimed; his arms wrapped tightly around you as you tried to somehow escape his grasp. But he was strong, of course he was, he was a Formula One driver.

Talking about his job, you were proud of him. The two of you had been dating for a few years now, the world only finding out in your 3rd year of dating each other. You had no idea how because you never purposely tried to be secret about it. You never went out in public, never really posted about one another on your socials, either. You only really started doing that when people noticed your relationship.

You were almost done with your degree now, though. Meaning you had more time to come to some of his races. You loved going there, not only to support your boyfriend, but also to learn about all the behind the scenes of the sport. It was something that fascinated you ever since you started dating Lando.

However, you tried to stay out of the camera’s as much as you could. You never held hands when you walked through the paddock with him; if you walked through the paddock with him. Most of the time you arrived after he did because you either had to finish some online work in the hotel room, or because you wanted to stay out of the spotlight.

You never really enjoyed being in front of the camera’s, hence why you were so invested in all the behind-the-scenes stuff. It wasn’t because you weren’t confident enough, not at all, because you were, and that’s something Lando always admired about you, especially when you started to receive hate. You just never thought being in front of the camera suited you, those cameras around you, people asking questions, it just annoyed you, and you decided you didn’t want to take a part of it.

It didn’t mean you never supported him, though. You were always there for him, and he knew. He never complained, he never told you you weren’t supportive, no. He loved how your relationship was different than the ones from all the other WAGS, he felt like he wasn’t sharing you with the entire world, that you were just his, and that’s exactly how you felt, too.

‘’Good evening chat! Long-time no see, ey?’’ You heard Lando’s smile through the words he just spoke, waving at the camera as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at you, his eyes gliding over you before quickly shooting you a wink. You laughed and rolled your eyes at his action, simply knowing the chat would comment on his wink.

‘’I’m good, enjoying the off season as much as I can.’’ He smirked. ‘’Aren’t we, babe?’’ He asked and you got up, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. ‘’I for sure am.’’ You winked before walking to the kitchen to get your snacks.

You always were seated outside of the camera’s view. As much as you loved staying out of the cameras at the track, you did the same whenever he streamed. You never did it purposely, though. You never hid away from the cameras; you simply never purposely were in front of them.

‘’Grabbing snacks!’’ You yelled from the kitchen when you heard Lando read the comments. ‘What’s Y/N doing?’ and ‘Where’s your girlfriend going?’

‘’She’s getting snacks, chat. You won’t believe it, but we actually prepared those for tonight.’’ He smirked, sipping his water as he read through the comments. ‘’We?’’ You asked, raising an eyebrow with a smile. ‘’Right, sorry chat, my lovely girlfriend Y/N prepared the snacks.’’ He said, watching you placing the tray of delicious food in front of him.

‘’I’m just missing one snack on here, but sadly there’s not enough room on the tray for that.’’

‘OMG HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT’

‘HAHAHAHA Lando naughty naughty boy’

‘DUUUUUUDE LANDO WHAT LMAO’

You sat down next to him, your legs over his as you grabbed a Malteser from the tray. ‘’You’re very original with your jokes tonight, Norris.’’ You smirked, reaching for your phone before you opened TikTok, keeping yourself entertained when Lando continued his stream.

He loved this about you, he loved the fact that even though he was live, streaming and being in front of cameras, you never backed down. You never changed when the cameras were there, you always stayed yourself. That was probably the thing he admired most about you, and things he definitely learned from you.

As the hours went by, the tray of food was nearly empty. You got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get something to drink, get some more snacks and so on. Lando got up to go to the bathroom for the second time this evening, leaving you alone with chat.

You kissed his lips before he left the room, you simply deciding to pop up in front of the camera this time. You read some messages, smiling as they told you you looked beautiful. ‘’Aw, thanks guys, or girls, that’s sweet.’’ You replied, leaning your chin on your hand as you continued reading a few more comments.

The second you heard him coming back in the room, you commented on a question in the chat, Lando sitting next to you with a smile on his face. He loved it when you interacted with his fans, which you sometimes did. It’s not like you were completely offline when it came to the fame he carried with him, you just never really bothered to become an influencer like some others did.

‘’Nah, ah, Norris, they are asking me questions now.’’ You teased, holding your hand up when he started to talk again.

‘HAHA Y/N’s such a vibe’

‘Yeah Lando, we’re chatting with your girl now!’

He simply chuckled, pecking your lips when you looked at him and he then enjoyed the scenery he saw in front of him.

After a while, you got up from your chair, going to the kitchen to refill your glass of water for the fourth time that evening, and made your way back to the room when you heard your boyfriend reading some comments out aloud.

‘Y/N doesn’t love him, she never holds his hand in the paddock, what a supportive WAG.’

You furrowed your eyebrows at that comment, and just as Lando was about to say something to defend you, you put your glass of water on the table in front of you.

‘’Last time I checked, my job title wasn’t ‘WAG’. I’m an engineer, not a runway model.’’

Lando looked at you, amazed, proud, and smiling like an idiot. ‘’You heard her, chat.’’ He smirked. ‘’That’s my girl.’’ He whispered happily.

The end of the stream was nearing, and you got up to head to bed. ‘’Goodnight, babe, I’ll see you in a bit.’’ You whispered before placing a kiss on his lips, smiling against them as he returned the favour. You glanced over at chat one last time, feeling Lando’s hand on the back of your upper leg.

‘’Next time I’ll open the ‘WAGs Handbook’ to catch up on some of my duties.’’ You smirked at the chat. ‘’Goodnight chat, sleep tight.’’ You blew them a kiss before walking out of the room, heading straight to bed.

Not long after you positioned yourself in the king-size bed Lando had in his bedroom, you heard the door opening; your boyfriend making his way to you. ‘’You’re amazing, please never change.’’ He whispered and pressed his lips on yours, firmly.

Later that season

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thebibliosphere · 24 days

Note

Hello, I apologize if this is something you've already talked about or you've answered this question before or don't want to speak more on it but I saw that ask you responded to the other day that your 'mast cells burnt down your gi track' and I wanted to ask what the name of that condition is called? Several years ago I randomly lost 45 pounds and couldn't explain it. And while I already had gi issues before, after it happened I started developing new ones that got worse with time to the point that now I am physically unable to work. There are a lot of other factors with my situation that could be to blame but I've gotten an absurd amount of various tests with no answers to show for it. And now I'm wondering if maybe whatever happened to you has happened to me.

Oh, bestie, you're all good; all I do is bitch on this app about having mast cell dysfunction.

There are a handful of different mast cell disorders, but my condition is known as Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, or MCAS for short. If you want to know what a mast cell is and how it operates in the immune system, I'd recommend checking out The Mast Cell Disease Society:

They're currently redoing their content, but there's still a wealth of information on there.

You can also search my blog for #MCAS and find a handful of posts where I break it down in detail, along with the current flaws in testing for mast cell patients.

The reason I lost a lot of weight was because my mast cells made my GI tract so inflamed that I couldn't digest anything I was eating. It was going in through my mouth, causing excruciating pain and giving me no nutritional value whatsoever.

Histamine type 2 blockers, such as famotidine/pepcid used to treat acid reflux, can help with GI inflammation from mast cell dysfunction (the GI tract is lined with histamine receptors), but I needed extra support, which I finally got late last year when my GI doctor realized after a biopsy that I was being undermedicated and needed more help managing my MCAS.

If you want to ask more specific questions, I'm happy to try to answer them, but I'd suggest reading through the above link first to see if any of it resonates with you.

#chronic health tag #MCAS

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alonetimelover · 8 months

Note

Hi, was wondering if you could write a dadrry social media au? Could be about anything, just love to see that content ❤️ amazing work btw!

pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader

summary: just dadrry and his sweet family of five

a/n: a little fic based in the famous!reader universe!

masterlist taglist famous!reader

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 65 292 others

harryupdates HARRY and his youngest baby were seen hiking in Italy!!

view all 2 029 comments

ynupdates that's certainly a way to hold a baby!

harrysmoustache FATHER IS HERE

stylesbabie you're the real one for putting this emoji on baby's face! i saw others not being so considerate

⤷ harryupdates of course! it's a child and besides the as it was bts neither yn or harry posted their face

harrysmylife here i thought he would stop walking so much after having children. nope! now, he's bringing them with himself!

ynsmymama i saw photos with their oldest baby there as well, yn's having some me time

hArrysbtch y'all here praising him for being a father and here i am staring at his arms. my man got some guns on himself

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, ynupdates and 6 492 392 others

yourinstagram being heavily pregnant during winter >>>>> during the summer

view all 230 201 comments

harrystyles You look flawlessly.

⤷ yourinstagram nothing you say will give back my biscuit

⤷ harrystyles We have two packs in the pantry.

⤷ yourinstagram yeah? but that one had the most raisins i've ever seen on a biscuit. and you ate it.

annetwist As soon as you'll be back in London I am taking kids for a week. I miss them!

⤷ yourinstagram you're the best, mum. can you take your child as well?

⤷ harrystyles Rude.

⤷ annetwist Of course! You need some alone time!

gemmastyles hello, sexy mama. are you single?

⤷ yourinstagram i am for the next twenty minutes. let's make the most of it. gelato?

ynupdates you're glowing

harryupdates what a beautiful family

ynsmymama how do you like the ball exercises? because i hated them during my pregnancy

⤷ yourinstagram hi child! and tbh i don't exercise on that ball. i just roll on it

⤷ ynsmybestie ICON

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YN via IG story

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates and 34 202 others

harryupdates HARRY was seen walking to the hospital in London! It's the hospital where YN and him went to a few days ago.

view all 2 302 comments

ynupdates ohhhh, this is a fresh dad Harry

hArrysbtch that's the man that for the third time, THIRD TIME became a father

harrysmoustache DILF

ynsmybestie i love how cozy he looks

stylesbabie finally that big ass bag is full of necessary shit

harrysmylife when is he going to start wearing dad clothes? i can't wait to swoon over a man dressing like any father on the planet, because I will

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Harry via his IG story

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 45 392 others

harryupdates HARRY was at the playdate with both of his and YN's older kids!

view all 3 201 comments

hArrysbtch hot dad at the playdate???

stylesbabie i hope those mums and dads are respectful

harrysmylife i asked for a dad outfit and he delivered

⤷ harrysmoustache definitely! my dad dresses the same

ynupdates he looks good, fatherhood is treating him good

⤷ hArrysbtch i wouldn't expect anything else

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dailymail

liked by user45 and 279 302 others

dailymail Harry Styles and wife, YN YSN, were asked to leave the restaurant after customers and staff were disturbed by YN breastfeeding their newborn. Our source says that after having a conversation, led by YN, the manager of the restaurant didn't change his decision. Harry escorted YN and their child to the car and then came back to have a talk with the management of the restaurant. Apparently, he was visibly furious and on the edge of losing his temper. After a discussion and manager's attempts to apologise, Harry stormed off.

view all 23 201 comments

harryupdates I'm not surprised he was furious! was yn supposed to starve their child?

ynupdates it's 21st century and people are still scared of women breastfeeding

ynsmybestie who was disturbed, men or women?

⤷ stylesbabie the article said it was three men complain

⤷ ynsmybestie I'm sadly not surprised

ynsmymama if they were so bothered by her breastfeeding near others, they could propose her some private room and not throw them out of the restaurant!

⤷ ynsmybestie but they shouldn't have a problem with it. she shouldn't leave restaurant for feeding her child

⤷ ynsmymama of course! but wanting to please all the customers you adjust to the situation. they didn't do thag

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist, ynupdates, harryupdates and 8 302 302 others

yourinstagram Hello, you little people in my phone! As most of you know (because of Daily Mail) two days ago, my husband, our child, and I were asked to leave the restaurant we ate at, because of causing disturbance to other customers. The said disturbance was me breastfeeding our child. Before our waiter and then the manager talked with us, my husband took a picture (above) (he really takes pictures of everything) showing what was visible while breastfeeding (A BREAST !!). There really was no conversation between two parties. When asked if covering myself with a cloth would be more comfortable, I was just once again asked to leave the restaurant. No person should be forbidden to feed their children in public. I shouldn't have asked if covering myself would be more comfortable with others. No. We shouldn't accept this kind of non written 'rules'. With everything said, I wasn't going to let our child starve and went to feed her in a car, so no stranger eyes could see a breast. In the link in bio you can find a great article about breastfeeding in public and what parents go through to please the strangers being bothered by a flesh of naked skin. Be kind to each other. YN.

view all 349 302 comments

harrystyles You are the best mother our children could have. And the best partner I could find and share the life with.

⤷ yourinstagram I love you.

annetwist ♥️♥️

gemmastyles You tell'em sister

ynupdates I am so mad that you needed to made a statement about it. sick.

harryupdates people are very delicate when it comes to breastfeeding but have no problem with parading without a shirt on

hArrysbtch im just gonna focus on how precious that picture is, and the fact that harry is that type of a father to snap pictures of everything

⤷ yourinstagram he really is, those 256gb are straining and in need of expanding

⤷ harrystyles Not my fault they don't allow SD cards anymore.

⤷ hArrysbtch we love a millennial

harrysmoustache that restaurant is going to flood with negative reviews right now

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist and 11 291 492 others

harrystyles To the best woman I know, thank you for choosing me to be your partner and father of our beautiful children. There is no moment in the day or night when I don't think about how lucky and fulfilled I feel spending my life with you. Happy birthday, my love. Your, H.

comments to this post have been limited

yourinstagram Come downstairs. There are now words to describe my love.

annetwist Happy birthday, YN. I believe there could be no other person more perfect to be in our lives.

gemmastyles Happy birthday, wifey!!!

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a/n: should i write some blurbs about dadrry?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #harry styles one shot #famous!reader #dad!harry

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ja3hunny · 4 months

Text

♡ 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐏𝐭.𝟒 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Hongjoong needed to show you how much he liked you. But he couldn't help but wonder how long he could dance around the fact you were his best friend's sweet, innocent daughter.

『Word count』 : 2.35k

-> Genre: Fluff. Romance. DBF.

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Nightmares. Slight unspoken trauma. Wet dreams. Flirtish texting. Flirting. Romance some spicy thoughts. mention of sex. mentions of fooling around. lots of staring and pinning. Hongjoong IS the standard. Fluffy, so very fluffy. Insecure thoughts. Reader fell first, but Hongjoong fell harder. Whoops.

Note: Sorry I didn't post last night, I wanted this to be longer, so i had to scrap and start again. But it's done now, hehe. Also, special tags to @mingis-prince @likexaxdaydream @itza-meee @dinossaurz @nopension @mysteriousrainsworld @therealcuppicake for interacting and loving this little series. ♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Part Three | Buy Me A Ko-Fi

Turning the key in the lock of your door, you sigh finally entering your quiet home. Chucking your duffle bag through the door and down the hall, you manage to kick off your shoes and lug the rest of your bags inside. You were sweaty, tired, and plan out annoyed right now. Sexual frustration was not something you needed but here you are. Once the ordeal in the car was over, Hongjoong helped you out of the car, tucking himself back into his pants before exiting the vehicle himself. he bid you goodbye saying he’d see you soon. How soon you didn’t know, but you were fearing to ask, becoming too busy with feeling his lips on yours as he pushed you up against the door of the car. You had hooked up a leg around his waist, moaning for more while his lips explored your jaw and neck.

‘Go home and get some rest angel.’ His words still rang in your head as you showered and hopped into bed. It was just past mid-day but you were so tired, you just closed your curtains and slipped straight under the covers. It didn’t take long for you to pass out, drifting off quickly into a dreamy land where all you could think about was Hongjoong taking you, tasting you. Loving you….

You had woken up in shock, your nerves feeling shot and hot. It was like all your senses heightened. You hadn’t realized you were having a nightmare until you managed to jump yourself awake. You raked your fingers through your hair feeling the sweat on your brow. This is odd, you thought. You weren't someone to have nightmares, then again you don’t think you’ve ever had nightmares. It wasn’t something your brain did, yet here you were, shaking, reeling over the images your cruel mind had painted. Hongjoong didn’t want you, he was just using you. He just wants to fuck you and leave. He wasn’t going to be with you after taking your virginity.

You felt so stupid. Of course, an older man with years of experience wouldn’t want you as a partner. He just wants some fun, a distraction from his life. You didn’t know how long you cried for but when you finally left your room you noticed the clock on your dining room wall read it was almost ten-thirty. You rubbed your swollen eyes, grabbing your phone off the kitchen counter. You yawned checking your notifications seeing your father asking if you made it back already then complaining you had fallen asleep without calling him. But what caught your eye were messages from an unknown number, the unknown you quickly found out to be Hongjoong.

‘Hey, I got your number from your father. Sorry if that’s weird’ - sent at 8:35 pm

‘I had a really fun time with you’ - sent at 8:36 pm

‘Would it be too forward to ask if you want to go out tonight? I can’t stop thinking about you’ - sent at 8:45 pm

‘Angel did you fall asleep?’ - sent at 9:48 pm

You felt your cheeks hurting at the last one, smiling brightly. It almost made you forget about the anxiousness you were feeling moments ago. You sat down on your couch, staring at the text bubble. You didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to go out? But where? Was he referencing a club? Or a fancy restaurant. Maybe he just wanted to catch a movie… do people his age go to see movies?! you cringed thinking just how childish you could be. Did he think of you as childish? Young? God, you were overthinking again.

“Okay!” you huffed out, shaking the thought, while sitting straight up. You held your phone with two hands, tapping your thumbs on the screen, sending your thoughts before your mind you take it back…

‘You wanna go out? Where?’ - sent at 10:35 pm

‘No hello? I thought better of you princess.’ - sent at 10:35 pm

you blushed, locking your phone for a moment, and staring at the ceiling. You could practically hear him call you princess. The was his whispers so lowly in your ear while his fingers would be so deep in yours—a ding from your phone shattered your thoughts, looking at the bright screen you read a new message he sent.

‘I wanted to take you out to dinner. But honestly, I’d do anything as long as I get to be around you’ - sent at 10:37 pm

Your heart was jumping, thumping so deeply in your chest that you felt like it was about to burst right out. As long as I get to be around you.. that was the smoothest thing you’ve ever read in your life. He was so charming, a gentleman and you kind of forget that from all the interactions of him spilling filth in your ears. You tried to message back as casually as you could;

‘Dinner sounds fun. But won't everything be closed by now? We don’t have reservations.’ - sent at 10:40 pm

‘Don’t worry about that. Just dress nice and meet me out the front of your apartment building.’ - sent at 10:41 pm

You shut off your phone, practically jumping to your feet. Your nightmare was long gone as you picked out something to wear, deciding on a long pink sundress with little strawberries and a white corset belt to make it look a bit more classy. You found a matching colour shall, finishing your outfit with some white docks with frilly pink socks. You chose to pick them cause, let's face it, you couldn’t wear heels. You’d end up looking like a fawn just learning how to walk and break an ankle or your foot.

Once you were finally finished you grabbed your phone, seeing it was about ten minutes since Hongjoong sent his message. You couldn’t wait another moment, locking up the doors as best as you could, running down the stairs since the elevator was down—yet again—getting to the exit in no time. You looked out onto the street, feeling the air nip the tip of your nose and eyes slightly water at the change of temperature. “God Doll, you look like you’ve run a marathon.”

“Haaaa.” You pant out closing your eyes. You could hear the older man chuckling at your antics. The way your hair was slightly frizzy. How your chest takes a large batted breath and your corset sits slightly askew. Your face was flushed and red, and his mind went south a tad. He shook it away for a moment, walking up to you. You finally opened your eyes, seeing the broad man was almost flushed against you. He had basic dusty almost black jeans on, one of those old man belts. The dark brown ones that have been worn for years, and no one knows where to get one other than fathers or elderly men. He was wearing a different black shirt. A looser one. It made him seem more relaxed and more… comfortable.

His car was nothing other than lavish and chic. You’ve never sat in such an expensive car. It felt like sitting in pure diamonds. The leather was soft, and the velvet on the chair detail was magnificent. The radio wasn’t playing, unlike the way you used it as a way to kill the silence in your car. But rather off, letting you and Hongjoong sit in a comfortable silence. His hand never left your leg as soon as you took off. Him driving is one thing, but him driving one-handed. You felt like you were about to melt onto the chair, and by the thin fabric you were wearing, you’re praying you didn’t.

“So are you taking me?” your voice came out a lot shaker than you would have liked but you tried to brush it off nonetheless.

“Somewhere special.” He cooed softly, lovingly squeezing your thigh.

“Special? We don’t need to go somewhere expensive and extravagant, you know.” You laughed. You didn’t need him to spend money on you, cause you knew if given the chance he would. He was just that type of person. He had bought your father over five hundred dollars worth of Lego one time because he wanted to. You still remember the look on your father's face, as if he was about to have a heart attack with how many boxes were stacked in his home office.

“I want our first date to be lavish. I want to treat you like royalty. Is that too much to ask?” He grunts, briefly smiling in your direction before looking back to the road. You gulped, feeling a wave of butterflies dance in your tummy. Your fingers began tugging at the hem of your dress, feeling a red blush creep on your cheeks.

“Our f-first date…” that’s what he had said. He thought of tonight as a date. Not just hang out time with two friends. The car came to a stop, not noticing you were standing outside valet parking. He unclipped his belt, turning his attention to you with a cheeky smirk on his beautiful features.

“Of course, this is our first date, and I wanna treat my girl to an unforgettable night.” his words made you suck in a sharp breath, not even hiding the way his words affected you. His girl. His. Your heart was doing flips right now. You looked away from him for a moment, hoping it would help calm the racing thump in your chest. But your eyes caught onto the dimly lit restaurant. It was like no one was even here.

“It looks closed. Are you sure we can even get in now?” You had no clue what the time would be. But given you left your place around eleven and you’ve been in the car for about twenty minutes. You knew it was already much too late for anything to be opened. He just clicked his tongue, hopping out of the car, circling the bonnet and stepping in front of your door, opening it for you.

“Like I said. Don’t worry about it.” he let out a hand for you to take, which you grabbed happily, letting you out of the car. He pulled you snugly against his body, using his free hand to pat down your ass, moving the fabric so he could fall nicely on your figure, he was so attentive, and observant. It made your heart so full of how caring he is. You walked to the front door, your arm snaked tightly with you. Your hand resting snugly on his bicep, you could feel the way his muscle tenses under your fingertip. You had to shake any unholy thoughts that were crossing your mind as you entered the empty restaurant.

There was a row of candles, leading into the building. You turned to Hongjoong seeing his smile had grown brighter, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Well go on.” He let you go, letting you walk slowly down the aisle of lit red and black candles. All the tables were empty and unmade, chairs missing and most likely packed away but in the centre of the room was one table with a beautiful white cloth and a cute little dull lamp in the centre. There was a red curved couch hugging around the dark oak table, gifting anyone who sat down a more intimate setting. You felt tears begin to swell at the sight, no one had ever done something so romantic for you before but now that you mentioned it, your previous one and only partner probably didn’t have a single romantic bone in his body.

“J-joongie..” You didn’t even notice the pet name as it slipped off your tongue. Hongjoong did, and god did it make his heart skip a beat. He wanted everything to be perfect for you. He wanted, needed to tell you how much he cared. Not just for the sex but for your company. He liked having you around. He loves hearing you laugh every time he says something funny. He loves the way your nose scrunches as the bubbles of the champagne tickle it. He loves the way you love food and describes all the joys and flavours and styles to cook. God, he was thankful now he didn’t give you a home-cooked meal. He would have been too afraid of your critic pallet tasting his mediocre dishes.

His eyes would crease and smile at everything you say or do. And the outfit you wore made him fall for you even more. Your style was such an opposite to him, but yet it matched him perfectly, like two peas in a pod as his mother would say. If she was here, she would be yelling at him about ‘How have you not asked for to marry you already’. insecurities would settle in soon at that thought… You both like each other. Want to be with each other. And yet. You were his best friend's daughter. You were half his age younger. God, he wished he had met you on the street randomly. Maybe then the relationship would have been easier. Your father would most likely hate him. Heck, would he hate you afterwards? Seducing his older, very single, and very hot friend?

Forbidden love…

And as the night drew on, you would shimmy closer and closer in the rounded couch until you were flushed next to him. He would talk about his work and his plans in life. And you were speaking about your own ambitions. And, of course, they had to match. Everything was so perfect. Right down to the movies you both liked and the music you both listened to. You were equals in every way.

The question that circled both your minds now was… how long could you keep this a secret?

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ghostandsoap · 1 year

Text

Every Scar Has a Story

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Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! “Gecko” Reader

Tags: Post-Smut (I’ll owe y’all one LOL). Domestic Ghost. Referenced child abuse. Past child abuse.

Word Count: 3.0k

“What are you thinking about then?”

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A content sigh fell from Simon’s lips as he collapsed back onto the pillows on his bed.

His grip on your waist loosened which allowed you to unstraddle him and join him on the mattress. He grinned at you as your naked body piled onto his. If he could relive this moment forever, he’d never complain. He could feel the rapid thumps of your heartbeat against his chest – a sign that you were pumped full of energy and adrenaline. The flat of one of his large hands trailed up and down the length of your back, a gentle motion as a way of relaxing you back to normal.

He had never experienced a moment more serene than the post-orgasm high. It was one he adored, and one that he loved to witness you in the middle of.

“You alright, love?” He took deep breaths in an attempt to settle his own body.

It was such a simple question, and one that he asked every time you made love. Simon knew that he wasn’t always the gentlest person on the planet, and he never wanted to unintentionally be too rough with you.

“Mmhm,” You hummed, looking up at him through glazed (yet satisfied) eyes. “Perfect.”

That look.

It absolutely drove him wild in the best of ways. It sent a flush of warmth and desire over him every single time without fail. Simon couldn’t understand how someone as flawless and wonderful as you could ever even think of seeing him as worthy.

He rolled you over to crash next to him, a smile appearing on his face when you giggled. He wrapped an arm around you to pull you in as close as possible, loving every second of having you pressed up against him. The two of you had “gone to bed” almost three hours ago, around 11:00 p.m. or so. You had fallen asleep within a few minutes, but Ghost (who had always struggled when it came to sleeping) stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, listening to your slow breathing as you slept.

Ghost had gotten used to sleepless nights over the course of his life. It was when his mind was the busiest…when his mind was the loudest. He was patient on nights like this, the ones where he couldn’t mellow out enough to get some decent rest. As long as you were comfortable and safe, he could lie awake for as long as he needed to. But when you started to stir around 1:45 a.m., he couldn’t help but take the opportunity.

It had happened a couple of times over the course of your relationship. Waking up just enough in the middle of the night to have sex and then both of you (or one of you, depending on the day) falling back asleep. He had nudged you awake when you had rustled in bed next to him, pestering you awake to kiss you as his sign of arousal. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. It’s not like you had ever complained about it.

“You gonna go back to sleep?” Simon asked, secretly hoping you’d stay awake with him, but not wanting you to if you wanted the rest.

“Only if you are.”

“I don’t think that’s happening tonight, lovely.” He kissed your forehead.

“Can’t sleep?” You questioned.

“No,” He answered. “But I’m okay. Not tired.”

Simon had impeccable energy. He didn’t need sleep more often than not. It was impressive to most, envied by some. But he knew that most people wouldn’t want that trait if they knew that it was a survival skill that he had perfected over the years.

Sleeping meant being unaware. Being unaware meant being vulnerable to the world. Being vulnerable meant opening a door to danger. Simon had learned long ago that keeping that door closed was safest.

“I’m not tired either.” You sighed.

“You will be,” He returned. “Don’t wait up just for me.”

“I want to though.”

Simon’s heart did a leap. There was something so incredibly comforting about the thought of you doing something with or for him just because you wanted to.

Time at home was…bittersweet for Simon. He didn’t exactly love when he was sent home before going back out into the field again. He understood that it was necessary, not to mention mandatory. He knew that he needed some time at home, away from the hustle and bustle of Task Force 141. It was the only way to ensure that he could continue to go out with his team when they needed him. Simon Riley might’ve been a freak of nature, but even he needed his breaks.

Getting sent home meant a lot of quiet time for Simon. In years past, returning to his home front meant returning to an empty home with no one to share his space with. At certain points in his life, he would even admit that he preferred it that way. Simon wasn’t graced with complete self-isolation very often. His career didn’t exactly allow that.

But as he got older (and maybe even just a little bit softer on the inside), the more and more he realized that flying solo isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

It was even harder to come home when he knew that meant being separated from you.

The first time that you and Simon were sent home to your respective stomping grounds, he severely underestimated the effect it would have on him. It was a short leave, shorter than the typical time that you were usually sent home for. He could manage a few months, no problem. Before he knew it, the two of you would be deployed back on a mission and it would be like no time had passed at all. Besides, he knew the two of you could text and call at any time. It wouldn’t be that different.

Oh, but how wrong he was.

Almost four weeks into the three month leave, Simon was practically begging you to come see him. He had found that his apartment felt unbearably lonely, and not being able to see you whenever he wanted to was torture. He felt anxious that he couldn’t be with you in person. He didn’t care how he had to get you there, but he needed to get it done. Sure enough, you were on his doorstep two days after he called you in a near meltdown, with enough belongings packed to get you through the rest of the three month period.

Simon’s mood had drastically improved following your arrival. As a matter of fact, he didn’t realize just how worse off he was without you. Fast forward to one month after your arrival, and with one more month left before the two of you were set to return, Simon had definitely gotten used to having you around.

“What do you think Johnny’s doing right now?” Simon suddenly asked, which made you raise a brow.

“I don’t know,” You laughed. “Why do you ask?”

“He does some odd stuff on leave. I was wondering what kind of stories we’ll get to hear when we go back.” Simon clarified.

“Who knows. It’s Soap,” You snorted. “I’m not exactly thinking about Soap at the moment.”

“Oh, yeah?” He purred, his fingers running through your hair. “What are you thinking about then?”

“You.”

Simon twitched when he felt the feather-like touch of your index fingertip trailing along the bone of his collar. It tickled him, and he hadn’t been expecting it. You were lovingly caressing him, staring at him with adoration. Simon had gotten used to you doing frivolous things like that. It freaked him out in the beginning, because he wasn’t used to someone doing an act of affection just because they felt like it.

You were following along the path of the scar that was on his collarbone. It was about three inches wide or so, and even though it had faded over time, it was still clear even in the barely lit bedroom.

“What is this one from?” You asked, propping up on your elbow to get a better look at it.

This one.

Simon almost laughed at the wording of your question. He wondered how many people were able to say that to their significant other. “This one” referred to the fact that he had multiple scars from multiple different injuries. It wasn’t conventional, but he found it amusing considering that you were in the same boat. A dangerous career meant dangerous encounters. It was impossible not to have some scars here and there.

“I think that one was when I got stabbed by the Russian last fall,” He said. “Remember him?”

Simon also found it funny that he wasn’t even totally certain if that was how he earned that one. When someone had as many as he did, the reasons behind them sometimes blended together.

“Oh, yeah. He was a big dude.” You shuddered.

Simon chuckled. That was putting it lightly. He watched as you scanned over his frame, trying to locate another one that you were (or maybe weren’t familiar with).

In so many ways, you enjoyed his company as well. Seeing Simon in such a casual setting was new for you. It was refreshing to know that he really was like everyone else. He enjoyed watching sports games, ordering takeout, and spending a lazy day at home just like you did.

Not to mention the major elephant in the room, Simon didn’t wear the mask at home.

This was the longest extended period of time that you had seen him without the mask. Here and there he had put his balaclava on, but for the most part – he had been maskless. Of course you had seen him without a mask before this – but only twice. The first time had been a complete accident, and the second had been intentional in Simon’s first show of trust to you in private.

Even though his bedroom’s only source of light was currently coming from the streets below and outside of his apartment, you could see his face as clear as ever. He was so beautifully handsome. It was amazing to you that there were so few people that knew what he looked like. You knew better than to comment on that. He never gave more than a vanilla answer to any kind of statement regarding the mask.

But that didn’t stop you from trying.

“You’re so cute without the mask.” You hummed, finding a small scar just between his nose and the apple of his left cheek.

“Oh, don’t start with all that.” He groaned, but the pink flush in his cheeks let you know that he liked it just a teeny bit.

“Come on,” You whined. “What about this one? Did you take a knife tip to the face in a struggle?”

“That’s from the first time shaving on my own, darling,” He almost laughed. “How else would I have a scar on my face?”

“What do you mean?” You quirked your head.

“I wear the mask, my lovely. Not exactly easy to take damage to the face.”

You supposed that did make sense, and you didn’t dwell on it long.

“This one is from the fire in that shack in Mexico, right?” You pointed towards a burn scar on the skin of his right bicep.

“Yeah, because the shape is similar to the scar you have on your forearm.” He remarked.

Instinctively, you raised your right forearm to compare the two scars. Sure enough, they were nearly the same shape and size.

“Well…mine is from a hot curling iron,” You snorted. “That’s the one that sticks out to you? Not the scar from metal shrapnel in my knee or from when I got shot in the side in France?”

“It’s the one I remember best because it looks just like mine.” He explained.

‘You know, they say soulmates have matching scars.’ Something that Simon had said to you once in passing. You had taken it as a joke, but Simon couldn’t have been more serious.

“They’re hardly the same.” You smiled.

“A burn is a burn.” He shrugged.

It was a bit of a weird game, he would admit. The two of you did this every so often, comparing scars and reminiscing on how you got them. In a way, it was therapeutic. It also reminded you to be thankful that it wasn’t the injury that made you meet your demise.

You and Simon both shared scars from stab wounds, gunshot wounds, burns, and cuts of varying degrees. It came with the territory, and it was almost like trophy collecting at this point. The two of you had grown accustomed to them, and most of the time you didn’t even notice them anymore.

Simon never minded letting you ogle over him in an attempt to find a mark that you hadn’t noticed before. He found it endearing, perhaps a little unfair because he knew there wasn’t a single part of you that he hadn’t noticed already.

Simon felt you examine his torso and legs, scanning over him carefully for another scar to ask about. Not a part of him went unsearched (including his face, where he greedily stole kisses when you got close). You studied his shoulders, biceps (spending a little extra time there – it had always been your favorite part of him), and elbows all the way down to his forearms.

He didn’t think much of it. Not until he felt your fingers dance over a certain scar that sent his blood from rushing warm to ice cold. A million signals traveled through his system at once – a defense mechanism of sorts.

“What’s this one?” You touched over a mark on his forearm that was much more distinctive than the rest.

It wasn’t remarkably large. It was about the size of a dime, maybe a tad smaller. But its shape wasn’t like anything you had ever seen on yourself or anybody for that matter. It was just barely risen above the skin, and based on the goosebumps that had appeared on his arm – you knew this one was special.

“That one is…older.” He spoke, his voice lower and much more guarded.

You removed your fingers from it because even though he didn’t say it, you could tell that he didn’t like you touching it. The few times that you had accidentally hit a sore spot for him, he put this quick wall up. Identifying it had become easy for you. Pressing forward usually didn’t seem like the best idea, but ignoring it wasn’t very helpful either.

“Older…?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He nodded, voice neutral and deep. “My father smoked.”

Your eyes took another glance at it, using context clues to put the pieces together. What you knew of his father (and you would confess that it was very little) painted him to be the most evil, sinister person to ever walk the planet. Simon had divulged small details here and there, a childhood story every now and again. Needless to say, you knew that his father (and his younger days in general) were not the highlights of his life.

“Oh,” You swallowed, a queasy feeling overtaking your stomach. “I’m sorry.”

Simon’s dark brown eyes met your downcast ones at the sound of your voice being so retracted and soft. Simon could read you like a book. He didn’t want you feeling guilty for asking questions that you had no way of knowing the answer to. You were the last person that he wanted to be uncomfortable at his expense.

“Hey,” He shifted to also sit up on his elbow. “Not your fault. You didn’t know.”

What was ironic was that cigarette burn was the most minor damage left behind by his father. It was something that he could forget…and most of the time he did. The physical injuries were a blip. It was the other stuff – the more hurtful, intense, and…psychological stuff that took the hardest toll on him.

“What happened? When he…burned you?” You continued cautiously.

Simon didn’t blame you for asking questions. If it were the other way around and he knew that someone had hurt you, he’d want to know everything too. But the fact of the matter was that it was buried so far deep in his past that he hardly felt any real reason to dwell on it. Maybe it was his way of deflecting, avoiding old feelings that he never quite came to terms with.

“Darling, I…it’s not personal, I just…” He sighed, unsure of how to gently turn your question down. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

You gave an understanding nod, knowing that line wasn’t ready to be crossed.

“I just feel like I always bring up bad memories for you.” You nearly whispered.

“You don’t. Most of the time I bring it up on my own,” He assured you. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you sure?” You squeaked.

He gave a genuine smile, one that was usually hidden by a skull-adorned fabric.

“Positive,” He pulled you back into his side. “After all, why focus on the past when you could focus on the future?”

“And what do you have in mind, Lieutenant?” You snickered.

He rolled over, hovering over you and trapping you between himself and the mattress.

“Something I think you’ll really go for, Gecko.”

“Mm. Using my call sign? Must be really important.” You went on.

“Something like that.” He kissed you then, keeping you from asking any more questions on that subject.

Simon knew that with time, he’d be more willing to talk about his father. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you with that information. Quite the opposite, actually. But in a certain way, not talking about it made Simon feel like it wasn’t real. If he never brought it up, then he could keep it in the past – where it belonged. He didn’t want his past to define his future, and keeping his past alive wasn’t of any interest to him.

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d rather focus on the future. He was so much more in tune with you and continuing what you had than anything else in his life. He liked the Ghost and Gecko dynamic, and he was forever grateful for the utter joy it had brought to him. Most importantly, he was forever thankful for the love being shown to him that he had missed out on.

The love that you had shown him.

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cheolhub · 1 year

Text

THE MORNING — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. mingyu knows you have a lot to do the day before the wedding, but he won’t let you leave without giving him his favorite meal for breakfast

wc. 2.2k

warnings. marriage kink (ik…), oral (f. receiving), gyu is a needy baby, a bit of teasing, praise — MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok hello, i know i said i was on hiatus, but i’ve decided im not anymore bc i need to be able escape from reality so enjoy ANOTHER fic w my newfound marriage kink. will likely write a pt. 2 (post-wedding) if u guys like this :D

p.s. reblogs and feedback are extremely appreciated— i also love to hear ur thoughts <3

mingyu hates waking up alone. he has since he met you all those years ago, so today, when he wakes up cold just to see your spot empty, he’s grumpy to say the least.

he leaves the bed to look for you, eyes tired as he’s muttering to himself about how you do this even though you know he hates it. when he finds your sleepy figure in the kitchen buttering a slice of toast in nothing but his oversized shirt and your socks, he immediately pouts.

“g’morning baby,” you smile at his eyes that are barely open and his disheveled head of hair, setting down the butter knife. “why’re you pouting?”

he huffs, arms crossing at his chest, mumbling out, “you know why. i hate waking up cold.”

you coo at how cute he was being. “‘m sorry, gyu— but we’re getting married tomorrow, i had to get up early to meet with the caterers and i’m gonna be late if i don’t start getting ready soon.”

he sighs, moving to wrap his arms around your waist from the back. his face digs into the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin. “make it up to me.”

you hum, relaxing into his touch. “baby, don’t start… i’m gonna be late— you were the one who wanted a perfect wedding.”

“don’t care about the wedding…” he says in between kisses— ones that were starting to escalate as his teeth scraped against your sensitive spot. “just want you.”

you smile at his words because you know they’re not true. mingyu has been gushing about giving you the most extravagant wedding since you said yes to his even more extravagant proposal.

“‘n you’ll have me tomorrow night. forever.” you emphasize and he groans, pushing his growing bulge into you. “but right now, i need to start getting ready, i have to meet them in 45 minutes.”

he whines, needily rutting into you, sucking at your skin harsher with every passing second. “baby, you can’t just say shit like that and then leave.”

you tease with a giggle, “what? saying things like i’ll be yours forever?”

“yes! don’t say things like that if you don’t want me to bend you over and fuck you while you choke on toast!” he whines out and you can’t help but laugh loudly, turning in his grip to face him.

he’s giving you the biggest doe eyes and, usually, they’d work on you because there is something so irresistible about your soon-to-be husband, but right now, you’re adamant on making sure tomorrow's wedding runs smoothly. so he’s just going to have to wait.

“okay, baby,” you start, a cheeky smile on your lips “i’m sorry. i won’t say anything like that ever again.”

“noooo!” he cries, shaking your body with his big hands. “i like when you say stuff like that, just don’t say stuff like that right now. you’re practically edging me.”

your fiance is so easy.

you coo, pecking his pouty lips, “okay, i’ll keep that in mind.” you say. “‘m gonna go get ready, you can have a slice of toast if you want.” you offer, wiggling out of his tight grip.

he scoffs at the proposal, deterring you from leaving and lifting you by the waist, sitting you on the empty space on the kitchen island. your surprised gasp makes him groan and he’s praying you’ll let him hear your other pretty noises before you leave him for the day.

his lips ghost over yours, “would rather have something else for breakfast.” he mumbles against them before getting on his knees in front of you. “pretty baby, at least lemme taste you, please?”

he’s so pretty with his shaggy hair and his tired eyes and you never realized how much he resembles an actual puppy dog before now. you can’t help but admire the beauty that is your forever lover.

you bite your lip at his plea, the offer being almost too good to deny. you weigh your decisions, eyes shooting to the clock across the kitchen. 8:17 a.m. if you wanted to be out and on time, you’d need to leave within the next 30 minutes– that isn’t nearly enough time, but the way he’s peering up at you and looking so fucking fine while he’s on his knees all for you… it’s too tempting.

“gyu…” you trail off as his arms take a hold of your legs and his face nuzzles into the insides of your plush thighs. he presses soft, gentle kisses to the skin.

“mmm, baby, please,” he mumbles, moaning as his face is almost directly in front of your clothed cunt. “i’ll be so quick, gonna make you cum ‘n you can go. you’ll let me, won’t you?” his breath fans against your core where arousal is now gathering and soaking through the cotton fabric.

temptation is a bitch, you rule.

he’s rendered you breathless and he’s barely touched you. you’re experiencing another moment that proves no matter how much of a bitch mingyu is for you, you’re just as desperate for him. two people that are a mess at the hands of one another– a match made in heaven.

“fuck, gyu,” you pant, eyes shooting up at the clock. 8:18 a.m. your eyes fall back to him and you decide, fuck it. “5 minutes or else i’ll finish myself off in the shower.” you offer the empty threat as if he couldn’t make you cum in a mere 30 seconds if he really wanted to.

he smiles, “whatever my pretty wife wants…” he whispers, noticing the way you twitch at the words. a soft chuckle slips past his lips and he looks up to you again. “oh, so you like when i say that just as much as i do, don’t you?”

of course you do. who wouldn’t get turned on by the idea of being kim mingyu’s pretty wife?

you roll your eyes in an attempt to hide the fact that his words don’t have a great affect you, gruffly saying, “not your wife yet and you’ve got 4 minutes and 30 seconds, baby.” you lace your fingers through his long, raven hair and push him into your heat. “get to work.”

he moans, taking in your scent, nose pressing into your covered clit as his tongue darts out to taste you, further soaking the cotton fabric with his saliva. you’re almost certain he’s going to eat you out through your panties, but he proves you wrong by taking them off in the blink of an eye.

he untangles his arms from your legs before rolling them down your legs and leaving them bunched up on the ground next to him. before you know it, he’s diving back in like a starved man, arms coming back to their original position and pulling you even closer to his mouth.

he starts by letting his tongue lap you up from your drooling hole to your hardened clit and he whines. you look down, breathless with your teeth digging into your bottom lip, and you completely take him in– how his tongue eagerly laps at your pussy with the most pleasured look on his face.

no matter how many times he eats you out, it proves to never be enough. every time he gets a taste, it’s like the first time and he falls in love with you all over again. truth be told, mingyu is addicted to you and would happily die with his head in between your thighs.

your eyes flicker up to the clock while mingyu opens his eyes to look at you. 8:20 a.m.

he grunts unhappily, “look at me.” he mumbles into you, sending shivers up your spine. when your eyes meet his, he wraps his mouth around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue at the bud. he relishes in the way you moan out his name, arching your back and gripping the end of the kitchen counter.

“you’re so good, baby– fuck, you always eat me out so fucking well,” you moan the praise breathily, eyes fluttering closed. your head falls back in pleasure and mingyu’s ego inflates, cock twitching at the praise.

he alternates between digging his tongue in your pussy, sucking up your honeyed arousal while his nose toys with your clit and having his mouth and tongue play with your clit. he’s moaning and whining, mumbling about how good you taste and how much he loves your pussy all the while devouring you whole.

you’re a mess, not even bothered to check the clock anymore as you feel all the vibrations and action provided by his tongue nearly hurtle you over the edge. tears gather up at your lashline as you whine and whine, his name and his tongue being the only things you can think about right now.

you’re almost embarrassed to be this close this quick, but then you remember it’s mingyu. mingyu who could make you cum by playing with your tits for too long. mingyu who could get you soaking his thigh in a matter of minutes. mingyu who knows just how to please you in any way possible.

“gyu! baby, oh, my god.” you sob, one of your hands moving back to tug at his silky hair. “‘m so fucking close.”

he lets out a guttural moan as he feels his own body heat up with pure desire. he wishes you had nowhere to go after this so he could sink you onto his cock and fuck you all day– make you cry for him, cum for him, beg for more of him till you’re both a mess and at a loss for words. he plans on doing so as soon as the wedding is over, though. he’s not going to let you do anything other than take his dick like a good wife as soon as you say ‘i do.’

he’s lost in your cunt, moaning with his eyes closed and brows furrowed as if he’s eating the best meal of his life. your joint moans and whines are bouncing off the walls of the kitchen, surely filling your entire home with lewd sounds.

“cum all over me, baby, fuckin’ cum for me. you can do it.” he coaxes through moans, though it comes muffled with his tongue shoved in your pussy. he sounds like a broken record, begging you to let go over and over. “my pretty fuckin’ wife, do it for me, baby.”

the title and vibration of his words send you right over the edge. the rubber band in the fiery pit of your stomach finally snapping as you cry out his name prettily, body shaking uncontrollably. your hand tug on his locks, holding him in place while you grind against his face to ride out your orgasm.

he’s a mess at the sight unfolding in front of him. you look so fucking desprate and it’s getting him close to cumming untouched, but he holds it in hopes you’ll change your mind– be an inconvenience so he can fill you up, fuck you full, and do it all again. he so badly wants you to call the caterers and push back the time so he can have you all to himself.

you finally come down from your high, eyes glazed over, pussy still aching with need. said eyes find the clock and read the time. 8:24 a.m.

he parts from you after licking you clean, standing up to his full height and towers over you. his eyes are full of lust. hunger and desire. there’s a thin layer of sheen covering his mouth and chin left over from the arousal that still seems to be seeping from your hole.

“six minutes.” you pant cheekily, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. “you promised five.”

he smirks and, god damn, does he look fucking sexy with his disheveled hair and swollen pink lips. “i didn’t promise anything, baby.” he murmurs, hands finding your hips and standing in between your legs. “i can promise to fuck you so so good if you push back your appointment… just by an hour.”

you huff, pussy clenching around nothing because you know his words are very much true. “gyu… need i remind you, we get married tomorrow.”

“i know, and everything is gonna be perfect, baby. stop worrying so much.” he tells you softly. “as long as you’re there… as long as you say ‘i do’ before the end of the night… i don’t give a damn. don’t even need to wear a dress. just you… i could marry you like this.”

this fucking sweet talker.

you blush, hiding your smile by chewing on the bottom of your lip, but you fail in doing so as your cheekbones shoot high up and your eyes crinkle. “you’re just saying that so you can fuck me.”

“yeah, but it’s true.” he leans in, lips ghosting over yours again.

“you’re gonna wanna fuck me in that dress tomorrow,” you tell him breathily, heart melting at the man he is.

“i didn’t doubt that, pretty girl.” he whispers. “so, do you wanna fuck now?”

you smile, “i do.”

#mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut

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moonscriptsx · 8 months

Text

Daylight || 02 (M)

PART 1

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

SYNOPSIS: Between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.

PAIRING: CEO!Wonwoo x Assistant!Reader [with appearances by Mingyu (a self-proclaimed Cupid extraordinaire), Soonyoung & Joshua as supportive besties, Seungkwan & Seokmin as the life of the party, Seungcheol (a menace), and a brief glimpse of Chan.]

GENRE: Coworkers→Friends→Lovers!AU – Fluff + Smut [minors dni]

WORDS: 12.7k.

WARNINGS: Slowburn, pining from both ends. Reader is constantly in a silent crisis when it comes to feelings, and Wonwoo is possessive (both in and out of the bedroom). Mentions of alcohol, cursing, and grinding on the dancefloor. Wonwoo is a slightly hard!dom but talks you through it so sweetly it'll make you melt. Oral (both recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), messy orgasms. Slight choking, dirty talk, alludes to squirting. Wonwoo is a pussy fiend.

A/N: We've made it to part 2!!! Thank you to everyone who left messages/comments on the first part! Seeing such positive feedback has made my heart soar to the heavens and honestly a little emotional hahahaha. This is the first thing I've written in almost 4 years so I was a little apprehensive when it came to posting 'cause I felt like I was incredibly rusty. Anyway, enough blabbering from me – I hope everyone enjoys the final part! 🥰

PLAYLIST: wonder by shawn mendes // right here by chase atlantic // with me by sum41 // never let me go by florence + the machine // love (feat. zacari) by kendrick lamar // wfm by realestk // mine (feat. drake) by beyonce // fine line by harry styles

The pounding in your head is a telltale sign of a night well spent when you wake up the next day, a groan emitting from your lips. Somehow Soonyoung had convinced everyone to migrate from the club to a karaoke bar halfway through the night, resulting in you stumbling home drunk off your ass at half past three in the morning. And while a hangover is a sign of a successful night out — you want nothing more than to shove your face back into your pillow.

Just as you maneuver yourself to dive back under the covers, your phone buzzes from beside you, the ringer doing absolutely nothing to aid your headache as you blindly reach for the device, not bothering to look at the caller.

“Hello?” You grumble, irritated at the disruption.

A deep chuckle ringing in your ear has your body shooting straight up from your bed.

“Rough night, sweetheart?” Wonwoo’s voice is teasing and you can’t help but feel your face flush at the endearing term.

“I — Mr. Jeon!” You stutter out, face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t check to see who was calling before I answered.”

“Understandable,” he reassures. “With the amount of drinks we had last night I don’t blame you for sleeping in.”

Sleeping in…?

Bringing the phone away from your ear, you glance at the time on your phone.

10:45 am.

“Oh, fuck!” You cursed, ripping the covers away from your body as you scrambled to get out of bed. From the receiving end, Wonwoo can’t help but laugh as he hears the commotion on your side.

“Mr. Jeon, I'm so sorry —!”

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” there he goes again, using the term of endearment like it doesn’t send your heart hammering a mile a minute in your chest. “I just got to the office not too long ago. It’s not a big deal.”

But it is a big deal, you thought to yourself. Not once in the two years that you’ve been Wonwoo’s assistant have you ever been late. You pride yourself on being punctual, making sure to get to the office at least thirty minutes before you were scheduled just so that you could get everything set up and ready to go by the time you had to clock in.

“Sir I’m —“

“(Y/N),” Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of your name. “Are you in the office right now?”

Your eyebrows furrow at that.

“No,” you reply, confused.

“So why the formalities then?”

“I —“ you pause, trying to catch your breath from the sudden question. “You’re my boss. Am I not supposed to address you as such?”

“After last night, I’ve come to realize I don’t want you to call me anything but my name.”

Your face grows hotter at his words, flashes of the two of you unabashedly grinding against one another in the club fills your mind, and you’re sucking in a harsh breath as you try to ignore the heat growing in between your legs.

“Last night was kind of crazy, huh?” You bite your lip in nervousness, trying to steady your rapid heartbeat.

“It wasn’t enough for me.”

Oh, you thought to yourself. I’m fucked…

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, and you can hear him sigh at the sound of his name.

There’s a brief silence on the other end and you’re starting to think maybe he’s regretting everything from last night to this morning until you hear his hum of approval.

“Anyways,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “Take your time getting to the office, sweetheart. You deserve a peaceful start to the morning.”

A soft hum escapes you at his words, an eyebrow quirking in amusement as you balance the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Are you sure?” You muse, teasingly. “I’m scared the office will be in shambles by the time I get there.”

A chuckle reverberates from the receiving end, butterflies filling your stomach as your boss tuts quietly.

“I’ll have you know that Mingyu is doing a fine job —“

“No I’m not!” There’s a groan in the background, a giggle escaping your lips as you hear a scuffle on the other end. “He’s torturing me, (Y/N)!”

“I am not,” Wonwoo scoffs.

“He’s making me wait on hand and foot for him!”

You let out a full blown laugh at that, shaking your head at Mingyu’s dramatics.

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo. “He’s not used to having to do things for someone else.”

“Excuse me — hey!”

There’s a distant bang on the receiver, the sound of a lock clicking through the phone and Mingyu’s distant shouts as you realize Wonwoo had closed the door to his office.

“I should give him more work,” you hear your boss grumble. “He’s been far too happy these days.”

“I have some ideas,” you muse in response, making Wonwoo chuckle.

“Good,” he hums. “We can go over them when you get here.”

It’s half past twelve in the afternoon when you finally make it into the office, in a much happier mood than you are usually in when you arrive in the morning. An iced coffee is in your right hand while you carry your laptop bag in the other, greeting every scowling face you pass by as you make your way to your desk. Placing your belongings onto your station, you pay no mind to the mass of missed calls as you push open the door to your boss’s office. There’s a playful smile painted on your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, body leaning against the doorframe as Wonwoo looks up from his computer, the man smirking as he sits back against his chair.

“There she is,” he greets. “Did you have a nice morning?”

“I slept peacefully,” you respond. “But I was rudely awakened by a phone call.”

“Oh?” He asks with mock concern. “And who dares to wake the princess from her slumber?”

You bite back a smile, adjusting your weight from one foot to the other, and give him a pointed gaze.

“My asshole boss.”

Your response has Wonwoo throwing his head back, a genuine laugh escaping him as he grins at your words.

“Touche,” he beams. “It’s been a dull morning without you here.”

It’s a genuine sentiment that makes your heart pound against your ribcage, those damned butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you bashfully break eye contact. Clearing your throat, you try to get a hold of the nervousness as you shoot him a questioning glance.

“Was Mingyu not keeping you enough company?” You ask.

“Not the kind of company I had hoped for.”

Wonwoo’s words make your breath catch in your throat, his sharp gaze heated underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and you felt your mouth go dry as you watched him lean back against his chair. Broad shoulders are slouched in comfort, his toned chest visibly defined through the tight fabric of his shirt. His sleeves are carelessly buttoned up to his elbows, the muscles of his arms making you want to salivate at the sight, and you can only blink at him before you snap out of your daze.

Unfolding your arms, you push yourself off of the doorway and gesture towards your desk placed right outside his office.

“I should get to work,” you murmur, making Wonwoo frown. “I'm already hours behind and I’m sure Mingyu didn’t do much to help.”

Not waiting around to hear his response, you turn on your heel and tread back to your desk, all the while trying to keep your heartbeat steady and those damn butterflies out of your stomach.

“Kim Mingyu, I'm going to murder you.”

The grumble falls out dejectedly from your lips as you glare at the screen in front of you, mentally cursing the tall businessman into oblivion. Not only had he rearranged the setup of your email, he had completely screwed up the excel sheet for next week’s company meeting. Every detail you had notated for Wonwoo was now scattered and jumbled amongst the cells as they sat in completely different categories than they had been previously. If you had been one of those old cartoon characters, you were certain that steam would be coming out of your ears.

Inhaling sharply, you crack your knuckles and your neck before hastily getting to work. The setback of sleeping in this morning has its consequences as you sit at your desk and try – keyword: try – to fix the absolute shitstorm that Mingyu had left behind. A task which ended up turning into hours upon hours of you clicking from cell to cell, meticulously moving each key point back to its designated section. There’s a slight sting in your eyes as your vision blurred from having to stare at the screen for so long, and you huff in annoyance as you save the excel spreadsheet, mentally waving a white flag as you give up on the document for the day.

Running your hands over your face, you glance at the clock at the bottom left of your screen.

05:54 PM.

Sighing in annoyance, you glance around the office. Most of your co-workers had left right at five, not wanting to spend another minute stuck in their cubicle. Had you not slept in, you would’ve gotten out sooner rather than later, but you wanted to make up for the time (and mistakes Mingyu had made) lost.

Hovering your cursor over your email, you clicked the envelope and stared at the unread emails on your screen. A quick glance over the senders names has you instantly weaning out the priority ones from the junk ones, before you’re opening one from Seungcheol. Skimming over his response, you can feel the air in your lungs tighten as your gaze freezes over the last sentence of his response.

Ms. (Y/N),

Your speedy response as well as the insight you have provided is much appreciated! It’s nice to know that the man I am working on this project with has such a reliable and efficient staff working for him. Please tell Wonwoo I am looking forward to this meeting next week.

P.S; I did not realize a congratulations was in order for the two of you! I wish you a happy and healthy marriage! Many blessings to you both.

Choi Seungcheol – Personal Representative of Choi Industries

Glancing at the email Mingyu had sent from your account earlier that morning, your blood runs cold as your gaze darts to the signature printed on the screen below your response.

Much regards, Jeon (Y/N).

“KIM MINGYU!”

You’re fuming as you bolt out of your chair and yell out into the quiet office space, the quickened pace of your heart pumping loudly in your ears as your angered footsteps walk away from your desk and down the hallway into Mingyu’s office. If looks could kill you knew he would be dead as his eyes widened, a pleading - almost puppy like - gaze falling on yours as he raised his hands in defense.

“I didn’t do it!” He denies, and you can only grit your teeth at the businessman.

“Bullshit,” you spat. “You were the only one on my computer today.”

“How do you know that?” He asks, defensively. “You were out all morning. Someone else could’ve used it.”

“Don’t play with me, Gyu,” you grit out harshly. “This is my job you’re messing with!”

Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He questioned. “All I did was rearrange a few things -”

“My email signature!” You yelled, anger flaring through your veins as realization crossed his features. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

The defensive expression on Mingyu’s face washes into a smug one, brown eyes dancing with mischief as he smirks and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“Oh, that,” he muses. “You don’t like it?”

“I am going to murder you,” you bite out, making Mingyu’s smirk widen into a shameless grin.

“It’s not that big of a deal -”

“What’s going on?”

You instinctively freeze at the deep rumble from behind you, eyes widening in alarm as you give Mingyu a warning glance. The man in front of you only beamed in delight as he leaned around your frame from where he sat at his desk to grin at your boss who was now standing behind you.

“Your assistant is threatening me,” he states, pointing a finger in your direction. “I don’t feel safe in this workplace.”

Wonwoo purses his lips, giving Mingyu an accusing glance.

“I’m sure it’s for good reason,” he muses. “She doesn’t just threaten anyone.”

“You’re taking her side?!” The businessman whines, slouching in defeat. “None of you in this office have my back.”

Your glare hardens as you stare at the man before you.

“Maybe if you weren’t such an insufferable prick we’d be a lot nicer.”

Mingyu’s mouth drops open at your words, hurt flashing across his features as his face falls.

“(Y/N),” he murmurs. “It was a joke.”

You could feel Wonwoo take a step closer towards you, the warmth of his body mere centimeters from your back as he towers over your frame to glare at Mingyu.

“What did you do?”

He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to get his point across, the harsh tone a warning in itself as he glowers at his friend.

Mingyu lowers his head in defeat.

“I changed her email signature,” he mutters, shamefully.

Wonwoo’s jaw sets.

“Changed it to what?” He asks. Mingyu’s gaze is still locked on the papers scattered on his desk.

“Jeon (Y/N).”

A wave of embarrassment crosses your features at Mingyu’s words as you fight off the heat that floods your cheeks. From behind you, you can feel Wonwoo inhale sharply, followed by an exasperated exhale falling from the CEO as he inched closer to your form. A fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against the small of your back has you freezing on the spot, your body not willing to move an inch as Wonwoo’s presence looms over you.

There’s a pregnant pause, no breaths taken, until a soft rumble reverberates against your back.

“Well,” Wonwoo begins, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. “That explains the influx of texts and emails congratulating me on my marriage.”

A sharp turn of your head has your gaze falling on the amused CEO behind you, your eyes widening in shock as you stare at your boss. Mingyu lets out a bark of a laugh, a sigh of relief escaping him as Wonwoo’s eyes glint in the lights, his glasses long forgotten in his office as he quirked an eyebrow at you.

You’re rendered speechless at the two men, completely taken off guard at their unbothered stance on the matter at hand. Your weary gaze meets Wonwoo’s humorous one, your boss offering you a reassuring smile before he’s looking towards Mingyu.

“Go change it back,” he orders, giving his friend a warning look. Mingyu’s amusement diminishes instantaneously.

“Aw, c’mon,” he groans. “Is it really that big of a deal?!”

“Yes,” you grit harshly, glaring at the tall brunette. “It’s unprofessional.”

Mingyu pouts, eyes darting back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“It wouldn’t be if it was true.”

His murmured words have your fists clenching at your sides, your lips parting to scold him once more when Wonwoo places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to stay quiet.

“Now.”

Mingyu flinches at Wonwoo’s order, his head hanging low shamefully as he begrudgingly pushes himself away from his desk. Wonwoo’s hand stays put on your shoulder, slender fingers gently grasping your body as he subtly pulls you into him as his friend trudges out of the office.

“And Mingyu?” He calls out, making his friend freeze on the spot as he half turns to look back at his boss. “Go pick up the food I ordered from Dae’s.”

Mingyu’s mouth falls open, a whine escaping him.

“What?!” He splutters, helplessly. “She’s the assistant -”

“And she’s assisting me with something else,” Wonwoo cuts him off. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Closing his mouth, Mingyu hesitates, brown eyes scanning the two of you before he’s rolling them with a huff and walking away. You’re glued to the spot as Wonwoo’s sharp gaze falls on you, a frown painted across his lips. Without his glasses, there’s nothing shielding the piercing look in his eyes as he leans in closer towards you. There’s a flash of sadness crossing his features as he presses gently against you, his big hands finding purchase on the edge of Mingyu’s desk as he cages you between it.

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he corrects.

The deep rumble of his voice vibrates against your chest as he peers down at you, neck bent slightly as he lowers himself to level his gaze with yours.

“What’s going on?” You ask, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat as heat flares through your body.

Wonwoo’s frown deepens.

“Would it be so bad?” He asks, making you shoot him a confused look. You’re about to ask him what he means when he cuts you off. “Being my wife?”

Those damned butterflies flutter away in the pit of your stomach at his questions, your eyes widening in shock, and your lips part in surprise as you stare at the man in front of you. The close proximity of his body against yours has heat flaring through your veins as his warmth engulfs you, completely overtaking your senses as his hands move from the desk to slide along your arms.

“I – What..?”

Your spluttering doesn’t falter his movements once, his intense gaze boring into yours as his fingers glide along the expanse of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his warm breath fanning against your cheek as his hands reach up to gently grasp your face.

You can’t help but to relish in his touch, eyes closing as you melt into his warmth, and your breath catches in your throat as he brushes his nose against yours.

“Answer me, (Y/N).”

Letting your fingers grasp around his wrists, you fight to catch your breath as you manage to meet his gaze despite the overwhelming fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach.

“No,” you finally answer. “It wouldn’t.”

Wonwoo’s grip on your face tightens, his eyes darkening with desire, and his lip curls upwards as he looks at you.

“I could make you my wife,” he states, and you almost whine with want as his lips brush against yours with every word. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he growls, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover yours. “Call me anything but my name again and I’ll show you what happens to girls who don’t listen.”

A shaky breath escapes you at his words and you can’t fight back the shutter of anticipation as his lips ghost along the corner of yours.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, making him hum in response. “We can’t.”

“We can,” he reassures, and it takes everything in you to draw back from him.

“No,” you deny, even though every instinct in your body is screaming the opposite. “We can’t.”

Wonwoo clenches his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line, and he glowers at you as he shoots you a disapproving look.

“And why not?” He asks, gritting his teeth. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Well, for starters, you’re my boss,” you begin, trying to push away the heat pooling between your thighs as Wonwoo’s gaze pierces through yours. “That’s an HR violation that I don’t want to have attached to my name.”

“I can take care of that,” he counters. “Any violation towards you will be overruled.”

“That can be considered as nepotism,” you point out. “People are going to think I slept my way to the top.”

Anger flashes in his eyes.

“If anyone says anything negative towards you or about you I’ll have them blacklisted in all regions of this goddamn country,” he growls.

“Wonu.”

Cautiously you reach forward, your hands cupping his face as you try to settle the rage within him. His eyes are blazing into yours, a fire lit within the darkened irises, and he’s gripping your wrists like a lifeline.

“I mean it,” he affirms. “You’ve been with me for two years. Twenty-four months, (Y/N). You have shown nothing but loyalty towards me, and towards this company. You are the hardest working woman I’ve ever encountered, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Your heart swells at his words, a shaky breath escaping you as he presses you back against Mingyu’s desk.

“You have never been just my assistant,” he murmurs. “And you know it.”

There are a million sirens blaring in your brain, signaling for you to back off, to pull away and resist the urges. But with Wonwoo’s warm breath fanning against your cheek, his sharp nose gently brushing against yours, there’s no hesitation within you as you card your fingers through his hair and pull him towards you, your lips pressing firmly against his.

A groan of approval reverberates against your mouth as Wonwoo clutches your body against his, the tall stature of his frame enveloping yours as he bends you back against the desk. The heat emitting off of his body courses through your veins as his needy lips move against yours, his hands dropping to grip the back of your thighs as he lifts you up onto the desk. Your nails dig into the nape of his neck as his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, begging for you to part them as he wraps your legs around his hips. A moan escapes you as your lips part, allowing Wonwoo’s tongue to meet yours in a haste that leaves you breathless.

You’re drawing back from him, in what was supposed to be a brief moment to catch your breath, but he’s chasing your lips with no hesitation. Greedy hands are gliding along your thighs before he’s clutching them, blunt nails digging into the flesh as he marks them with his touch. The action draws a mewl from you, a desperate whine escaping your lips as you reciprocate the action by digging your nails into his back. Wonwoo growls against your mouth.

“Are you challenging me?” He asks, words muffled against your lips. You smirk in response.

“Maybe,” you tease coyly, making him draw back from you.

There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes and he’s pulling you even closer towards him until your clothed cunt is pressed against his hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh starts to slither upwards, calloused fingers teasingly brushing against the hem of your lace panties as Wonwoo dips his head into the crook of your neck.

His tongue flattens against the juncture that’s between your shoulder and your neck before he’s grazing his teeth along your skin, your breath catching in your throat when you feel him run his fingers along your clothed core. He smirks against your skin when you mewl in response, your hips lifting off of the desk as an attempt to gain more friction. Wonwoo tuts under his breath, digits teasingly brushing against your panties.

“Needy girl,” he remarks, nipping playfully at your neck. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked for me.”

You groan at his words, back arching as you try to press yourself flush against him.

“I’m always soaked for you,” you confess, and you nearly shiver at the flash of desire that sparks within his dark eyes.

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers now gripping the hem of your panties. “Have you been thinking about me, sweetheart?”

You can only moan in reply, hissing when the cool air of the office hits your bare pussy as Wonwoo slides your panties down your legs.

“Do you think about me being underneath your desk? About me being on my knees with my head between your thighs while I lick your cunt?”

Wonwoo’s words sends heat straight to your core, a whimper escaping you as he’s teasingly sliding his digits along your folds so he can coat them in your arousal. You could almost cry with the amount of tension between your thighs, your cunt begging to be touched as he levels his face with yours, dark eyes fueled with desire as they meet yours.

“Or do you think about me bending you over my desk and fucking you from behind?” You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue licking your arousal clean off of them.

The lewd sight has you keening with want, your hands reaching out to grab his belt buckle as you blindly undo his pants. Wonwoo clenches his teeth before catching your wrist and pinning it next to you on the desk. The action causes you to smirk up at him, a feigned innocence playing on your features.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he grits, making the smirk on your face widen.

“Oh, I have every intent of finishing you.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to retort when the distant ‘ding’ of the elevator echoes in the hallway, your eyes widening in alarm, and you hastily push your boss away from you as you scramble to climb off of Mingyu’s desk. Standing back on your feet, you can’t even spare a glance toward the man who just had his tongue down your throat (and who is now shoving your forgotten panties in his pocket) as you straighten your skirt and power walk back to your desk, trying to ignore the aching that settled between your thighs.

“Are you going to tell us what the emergency meeting is for?”

Soonyoung and Joshua’s worried gazes make you want to shrink into the booth, the after effects of what you and Wonwoo had done in Mingyu’s office weighing on you like a dumbbell crushing your chest. You had fucked up and let your desire get the best of you instead of listening to the rational part of your brain — and it was eating you alive.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you guiltily look down at the menu on the table.

“Something happened between Wonwoo and I,” you muttered, shamefully.

Soonyoung and Joshua blink, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Isn’t… isn’t that what you wanted…?” Joshua asks, and you frown.

“Well, yes, but —“

“No but’s, (Y/N),” Soonyoung tuts. “Clearly you and Wonwoo have feelings for each other. Something was going to happen eventually.”

“Yes, eventually,” you clarify. “Not this soon! Especially not with me and him almost fucking on Mingyu’s desk.”

“WHAT?!”

The sudden outburst from the two of them echoes in the diner, earning dirty looks from the other customers as you palm your face in embarrassment. Your cheeks grow hot as shame washes over your body, a groan escaping your lips as you peek at your friends, both of which are staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.

“It just happened, okay,” you defended yourself. “One minute I was telling him we can’t pursue anything and the next I’m on top of Mingyu’s desk with Wonwoo’s tongue down my throat.”

“Okay, first — ew,” Joshua grimaces. “I don’t need a visual.”

“That’s kinda hot, actually,” Soonyoung counters. “Fucking in the workplace? Nice.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, glaring at both of them. “This is a serious issue.”

Joshua purses his lips, his gaze scrutinizing.

“Not really,” he dismisses. “From everything you have told us, it sounds like he reciprocates your feelings, honey.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees. “And I saw you two at the club the other day. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, both of you are down bad.”

You roll your eyes at Soonyoung’s words, scoffing as you take a sip of your water.

“And besides,” he continues. “He’s your friend —“

“He’s my boss,” you reiterate. “I’m his assistant, Soonyoung. That’s unprofessional.”

“It’s only unprofessional if you make it unprofessional,” Joshua states. “I’m sure if the two of you became official you’re not going to flaunt it at the office.”

“Even if they did, who cares?” Soonyoung shrugs. “Employee relationships happen all the time.”

“Yes, employee’s date each other. Not bosses and their assistants.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Joshua clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Have you ever watched ‘The Nanny’?”

“Seriously, Shua?” You rolled your eyes. “First off, that’s a TV show, meaning it’s fictional. Secondly — she was his nanny, not his assistant.”

“But the point still stands,” he continues. “The two of them fell in love regardless of their positions. And they didn’t care who found out or what would come of it.”

You sigh, knowing he’s right.

“HR is going to have a field day with this,” you muttered. “And I’m going to get fired.”

Soonyoung shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Who cares,” he dismisses. “You can’t help who you gain feelings for. And, besides, if you get fired Wonwoo can take care of you.”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me,” you snapped. “I want to keep my job.”

“And he’ll make sure you will,” Joshua reassured you, gently placing his hand on yours. “But you have to talk to him, (Y/N). He has feelings too.”

Your shoulders slump in defeat at his words, a heaviness weighing on your heart, before you’re reluctantly nodding.

“You’re right,” you concede. “I’ll talk to him.”

Settling back against the booth cushions, Joshua offers you a smile of encouragement before he’s picking his menu up from the table.

“Alright, now who’s hungry?”

You did not, in fact, talk to Wonwoo.

Instead, for the first time in the two years that you had been working for him, you called out sick.

You knew that Joshua and Soonyoung were right when they told you to talk to Wonwoo, to lay out all feelings and thoughts in order to understand what it was that was going on between the two of you. But the mere thought of being in a room with him after what had happened in Mingyu’s office and the thought of not being able to trust yourself around him was too much, that all of the pent up feelings and tension would end up causing both of you to snap and make a move that would ultimately change your dynamic forever – as if it hadn’t already.

You knew that if Mingyu hadn’t gotten back to the office at the time that he did, the situation between you and Wonwoo most definitely would have escalated into something more. You knew that Wonwoo had been seconds away from dropping to his knees and spreading your legs, licking and sucking until you were a writhing, crying mess on his friend’s desk. And that’s why you called out.

“What do you mean you’re not coming in?” Mingyu had asked, exasperatedly.

“I’m calling out,” you reiterated. “I don’t feel well.”

“I –” Mingyu paused, a heavy sigh following. “Why are you telling me and not Wonwoo?”

There had been a brief pause on your end, your throat tightening as your mind had flashed back to the events days prior.

“Gyu, please. Just tell him I’m not coming in today,” you begged. “I’m sorry.”

You should’ve caught the worried tone that had been in Mingyu’s voice. You should’ve known that he would’ve caught on to your pitiful lie, that he was going to run straight to the source itself to find out what the actual reason for your calling out was.

But most of all, you should’ve predicted that Wonwoo’s persistence and stubbornness would get to the better of him.

A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you wearily walk over to it and peer out of the peephole, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the man who stood outside of it.

With his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, glasses perched on his nose, and a determined expression on his face stood Wonwoo. Those damned butterflies are fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach at the sight of your boss, your heart speeding up as you contemplate not answering the door – but you knew better than that. You knew that despite you calling out this morning that Wonwoo was going to want an explanation. That despite your best efforts to deflect from the situation just days before, he was going to want to discuss the matter at hand sooner rather than later.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself a moment to collect your composure before opening the door.

You stare dumbfoundedly at your boss, shock lit across your features as you stand in the doorway.

“How – how did you get my address?”

Wonwoo’s expression is stony, his gaze piercing yours through the thick rims of his glasses, and you catch the movement of his jaw clenching as he glares at you.

“You’re avoiding me.”

His tone is cold as he deflects your question and the harshness of his voice makes you wish the ground would open up from beneath you and swallow you whole, all the while suddenly painfully aware that you’re standing in front of your boss in nothing but your oversized sleep shirt.

“I – I’m not avoiding you,” you stuttered out. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow into a menacing glare.

“You and I both know that that is a lie.”

Pushing past you, you watch open-mouthed as Wonwoo makes his way into your apartment, a bolt of panic rushing through you as you fumble to close the door behind you. His back is to you as he faces your living room and you watch as his hands slip out of his pockets, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides before he’s turning to look at you in the doorway.

“You called Mingyu,” he bites out, menacingly. “Instead of calling me, your boss, you called Mingyu.”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your feet shuffle nervously as your gaze drops to the ground.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, making Wonwoo scoff.

“Cut it out, (Y/N),” he spats. “You bother me more often than most of my other employee’s do.”

There’s a blow to your ego at his words as your head snaps up to look at him, hurt flaring in your eyes as you glared right back at your boss.

“Then why keep me around?” You ask, harshly. “If I’m such a fucking bother to you why not fire me?”

Wonwoo grits his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Because I cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it!”

The sudden confession knocks the air out of your lungs, your lips parting in shock, and the butterflies multiply tenfold as Wonwoo stares at you with a gaze mixed with fury and desire. You’re frozen to the spot as Wonwoo steps closer, the intensity of his stare igniting your body on fire as the warmth of him envelops you.

“Whether it’s having you as my assistant or to just simply bask in your presence,” he begins, his voice lowering. “The thought of not seeing you even for a day makes me want to go crazy.”

Your back presses against the door as he leans in closer, one arm perched above you as he looms over you. Your breath is caught in your throat at the close proximity of him, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and clouding your judgment as he levels his face with yours.

“You’re all I think about, you’re all I dream about,” he continues, gaze softening as he presses closer to you. “You have infiltrated every part of my being since the moment you first walked into my office.”

A shaky breath escapes you as your heart soars at his words, and your hands ache to reach out and hold his face.

“Wonwoo…” You catch the flash of desire in his eyes as you mutter his name. “There is so much at stake for me if we pursue this. I could lose my job –”

“I will take care of you,” he cuts you off, matter-of-factly. “I know that’s probably not what you want to hear but if it comes down to it, I will take care of the damage I’ve caused if it means I get to keep you in my life.”

Your gaze softens at his words.

You knew the stakes, you knew what was going to happen the moment you and Wonwoo solidified crossing the lines – you knew that your position as his assistant was over. Everything you achieved in the last two years had been for him, had been because of him. Wonwoo was your biggest supporter, whether he voiced it or not, and you hadn’t realized until recently that your admiration for his hard work and brilliant business mind had morphed into admiration for him – Jeon Wonwoo. Not the CEO you had worked for day in and day out. It was for the man who encouraged you to speak up in meetings despite your lack of status, the man who would go out of his way to bring you lunch, flowers, or gifts when he knew you were having a bad day. It was for the man who stood before you pouring his heart out despite the repercussions.

With shaky hands you’re reaching out to cup his face, your thumbs gently stroking his defined jaw as you peer up at him.

“I have grown to care for you, Jeon Wonwoo,” you murmur, and Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath as he presses flush against you, trapping you between his body and your front door. “In a way that assistant’s probably shouldn’t care for their bosses.”

A half-hearted laugh escapes him at that, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and you can’t help but to grin up at him. He’s still looming over you with one arm pressed against the doorframe, his other wrapping around your waist before he’s tilting his head down to yours. Warm lips encase themselves around yours and you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage as he kisses you slowly, passion pouring through him. You can feel your breath escape your lungs as you kiss him back, completely relishing in the taste and feel of him pressed against you as he kisses you earnestly.

Drawing back slightly, there’s a fleeting moment between the two of you as you stare into each other’s eyes, a silent acceptance of the lines between you becoming nonexistent, and it’s nothing short of a relief as you’re both pulled by an invisible force back to one another.

Your hands move to entangle themselves in his raven locks, fingers tugging at the roots as your lips fuse together in a frenzy. Wonwoo groans against your mouth as his arms move to wrap around your waist, his body flush against yours as your lips lock in fervor. As he tilts his head to the side, his tongue dips out from his lips to run along the seam of yours, which part almost instantly in response. A deep rumble reverberates from his chest as his tongue traces every nook and cranny of your mouth, almost as if he was memorizing every detail. Wonwoo’s hands move from your waist down to the hem of your sleep shirt before he’s teasingly gripping the hem of it and drawing back from your mouth.

Teeth graze over the skin of your neck as Wonwoo presses you back into the door, nimble fingers sliding underneath the hem of your shirt as he latches onto the pulse point on your neck. Your lips part in a wanton moan as he sucks a mark into your skin, his warm hand encasing around your bare breast. Arching your back into his touch, you’re keening in pleasure as Wonwoo pinches the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger, a smirk dancing across his lips at your response. He’s grazing his nose against your neck before clutching your hips.

“Wanna taste you,” he breathes out, his breath fanning against your skin. “Wanna devour you until your legs are shaking.”

You can barely keep your vision focused on him as you watch him sink to his knees, his sharp gaze piercing into yours as his hands glide from your waist to your thighs, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as you whimper in anticipation. Sneaking them underneath the hem of your shirt, he’s tugging at your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. You watch as your boss hitches one leg over his shoulder, his piercing gaze never leaving yours as he leans forward to run the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds.

A moan escapes your lips, your head tilting back and resting against the door, and your fingers tangle in his tresses as he hums appreciatively at your response. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as Wonwoo completely sheaths his face between your legs, unabashedly licking at your cunt. Shameless moans are falling from your lips as Wonwoo licks without abandon, his nose pressing into your clit as he mouths and sucks at your core. Your nails are digging into his scalp, body arching off of the door as you relish in the feel of his tongue. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his hands glide underneath your shirt, warm hands encasing around your breasts before he’s squeezing them.

A deep growl resonates from him before his head is completely disappearing underneath your shirt, his mouth flush with your cunt as he grips your beasts, a harsh suck to your clit as he shakes his head from side to side, tongue gliding along your folds in a way that has you crying out into your apartment, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as your hands claw at his clothed back.

“Wonu, oh, fuck…!”

There's a sly smirk dancing across his lips as you feel him tilt his head, the tip of his tongue circling your clit until he’s flattening it, sucking it harshly into his mouth as he hums against you. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach at his ministrations, your chest heaving with pleasure until he’s reaching behind you to grip the flesh of your ass and pulling your cunt flush to his mouth.The pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit is enough to have you unraveling against him, a cry of his name escaping you as your body does exactly what he wanted it to.

Your thighs clamped around his head as he brought you to your release, your nails clawing at his clothed back as you lurch forward in pleasure. He’s lazily lapping at your folds, licking the remnants of your essence up as you tremble in ecstasy. The soft kitten licks at your core have you whimpering from the overstimulation before you can make out the muffled groan from underneath your shirt as Wonwoo draws back, his face shining with remnants of your arousal as he licks his lips. His hair sticks up slightly from being trapped between your legs, the glasses that were perched on his nose completely fogged up, and the sight of your boss’s disheveled appearance is so erotic it gives you enough incentive to fist your hands through his hair before pulling him up to you.

You taste your arousal on his tongue as his lips meet yours, your hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt before you’re undoing them and all but ripping the fabric off of him. A growl reverberates into your mouth as he grips your thighs and hauls you up, locking your legs around his waist.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, words muffled against your lips.

“Down the hall to the right.”

It’s a clash of tongues and teeth as he’s gripping you close to him, blindly navigating the two of you down the hall and kicking your bedroom door closed before he’s laying you on your bed. Your nails rake down the expanse of his broad back as he tugs your shirt up and over your head, throwing it carelessly as he revels in the sight of your naked body in front of him. His hungry gaze rakes along every bump and curve, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in the sight.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he’s leaning down to hover over your body.

“You’re fucking exquisite,” he breathes out, greedy hands plucking at your nipples as he sucks a mark into your chest. “Better than any dream I’ve ever had.”

Your breath hitches at his words, another pool of arousal flooding between your thighs as you arch into his touch.

“You’ve dreamt of me?” You ask breathlessly, and Wonwoo lifts his head from your chest to give you a look full of desire.

“Sweetheart, I’ve dreamt of you every night since the day you’ve stepped into my office.”

You mewl as his lips enclose around your pert nipple, his teeth clamping around the bud as he tugs harshly before encasing his mouth around the mound, your body arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Wonwoo smirks against your breast, his hand kneading the other before he’s switching to enclose his mouth around the other. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, you’re rolling your hips against his clothed cock.

“Tell me,” you whimper, reaching a hand in between your bodies to pluck the button on his slacks. “Tell me about everything you’ve dreamt of.”

Wonwoo growls against your skin as you undo his slacks, his teeth gritting when he feels you slide your hand into his briefs and grab onto his growing cock. Grabbing onto your wrists, he’s pinning them above your head as he hovers over your body, a menacing look in his eyes.

“You want to know everything, sweetheart?” He asks, the term of endearment dripping from him like velvet and you mewl as you wriggle in his grasp. “You want me to tell you about how I've spent countless nights envisioning you underneath me, taking my cock every which way until there were tears streaming down your face?”

A shameless moan wracks from you as his hold on your wrists tightens, his eyes darkening in desire as he rolls his hips into yours.

“You want to know about all the thoughts I’ve had of you tied to my bedpost, red silk on your wrists and your body all mine to use?”

Wonwoo growls as his free hand slithers down your body, his fingers dipping to your cunt as he coats them in your arousal.

“Or about how I want to mark every single inch of you to show anyone who even dares to breathe in your direction that you’re mine.”

You mewl, your body writhing underneath him as you try to gain any kind of friction between you that you could. Smirking at your attempts, Wonwoo teasingly runs his digits along your folds, before he’s pushing two past them, not stopping until they’re buried to the knuckle. Your hips grind into his touch as his name falls from your lips, your hands trembling underneath his hold as he scissors the two digits against your velvety walls.

A coo falls from him as he relishes in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression, his lips twisting into a feline-like smirk as he slips a third finger inside, his thumb pressing against your clit as he flicks his wrist, the digits delving deeper inside of you as he thumbs against your sensitive bud.

“But the thought I’ve had that’s haunted me since day one,” the smirk never falters from his face as he peers down at you with desire. “Is the thought of you soaking every inch of my bed as I make you cum over and over again. And, while, this isn’t my bed – it’ll do for now.”

Your mouth opens in a soundless scream, your back arching off the bed as Wonwoo slips a fourth finger inside of you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit before he’s pressing down onto the bundle of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your body as you claw at the one that was pinning yours to the bed, nails digging into the back of his hand as he curls the digits inside of you. They’re brushing against a spot that has your thighs clenching around his wrist, a sadistic grin dancing across your boss’s lips as he watches you writhe under his ministrations.

“Wonwoo, please,” you beg, sobbing with pleasure. “Please – oh fuck, let me cum, please.”

Your voice is broken, muddled into cries of desire as he palms your clit, and he’s leaning down to lick a stripe down the valley of your breasts. His eyes are completely locked on your pleasure ridden face as he litters marks along your body, teeth sinking into any visible part of your flesh he can reach.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking deviously. “Give it to me.”

The heel of his palm is ruthless against your clit and your body is folding in half as your thighs clamped around his wrist, a shriek of his name reverberating off of the walls as his fingers curl against the spot that sends your body into overdrive. There’s a tightening in your lower body that sends a flash of heat through you, your eyes clamping shut as you cum – hard.

Wonwoo growls at the sight before him, his desire filled eyes taking in the sight of your arousal dripping down your thighs and soaking your sheets, and he’s speeding up his ministrations on your clit. His sharp gaze is locked on your pulsating cunt while your body reels into overstimulation, cries of pleasure ripping from your throat as your cunt leaks shamelessly. Your back is completely arched off of the bed, fluids leaking from your core, and you’re almost crying out of relief when Wonwoo slips his fingers out of you and loosens his grip on your hands – only for you to grip his hair when he latches his mouth onto your overstimulated cunt.

He’s licking with no abandon, lewdly slurping every last drop of your release as you sob with pleasure. His arms are tucked underneath your thighs as he pulls you until you’re completely sheathed against his mouth. The overstimulation has you writhing against him, and you’re mustering up enough strength to push his head away as you let your body come down from the intense release.

Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you sink into the sheets, cooing at you as exhaustion washes over your pleasure ridden body. Soft kisses are littered along the inners of your thighs, and Wonwoo peers up at you through his eyelashes as you tiredly lift your head from the bed.

“You’re doing so good,” he praised, softly nipping at the flesh of your thigh. “My good girl.”

Despite the intense orgasm you had just experienced, your cunt pulsates with desire at his praise. Biting the inside of your lip, you’re whining softly as you tug at his hair, ushering him up to you. Wonwoo lets a wild grin grace his lips as he allows you to pull him up, his lips slotting against yours lazily as he cages you between his body and the bed. Shaky hands make their way down the expanse of his chest and Wonwoo gasps against your lips when you tug his slacks down, a foot sliding between his legs so that you can push them off of him.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, trying to break away from your lips only to have you grab the back of his head to keep him still. “What are you doing?”

A mischievous glint is in your eyes as you shoot Wonwoo a filthy smirk, your hands clutching at his biceps before you’re mustering enough strength to roll the two of you over and pinning him to the bed. Your lips trail from his down to his jaw, teeth grazing over the sharp definition as your hips settle over his. Your hands are trapping his wrists and pressing them into the mattress as you trail your tongue over his neck. Wonwoo growls underneath you, his sharp eyes glaring at you through the thick rims of his glasses.

“I can’t be the only one having fun,” you coo, teasingly against his skin.

Wonwoo grits his teeth as yours graze over his skin, a hiss falling from him when he feels you suck a mark into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me,” he bites out, wrists breaking free from your weakened hold. You ‘tsk’ at him, breaking away from his neck to frown.

“It’s my job to take care of you,” you affirm, shooting him a pointed look, and you can only bite back a smirk when Wonwoo’s lips curl into a snarl. “Let me take care of you, Mr. Jeon.”

A near pornographic groan escapes your boss’s lips at your words and you can’t help but to grin with satisfaction, your lips trailing from his neck to the expanse of his chest. You keen with satisfaction as Wonwoo’s fingers tangle in the tresses of your hair while you litter marks down his chest, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you reach the hem of his briefs. A salacious smirk paints your lips as you tug at them, discarding the garment without care as your tongue trails along the patch of hair leading to his bulging cock.

Your gaze never breaks from his as you situate yourself between his toned thighs, your hand wrapping around him as your lips part to lick at the beads of precum dripping from his tip. The grip he has on your hair tightens as you coat his head with it, a soft hum escaping you before you’re descending onto his cock. Wonwoo tenses, the sharp tug on your tresses making you whine against his cock, and he groans in ecstasy as your tongue lolls around him. He’s gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he struggles to keep his eyes open to peer down at you, completely mesmerized by the sight of you in between his legs. Inhaling through your nose, you suck in a breath of air before taking him in until his tip brushes the back of your throat, your hand reaching to cup his balls.

“(Y/N)...”

Wonwoo’s growl only encourages you further as you slide completely off of him, a smirk on your lips before you descend once more until he’s sheathed back into the warm cavern of your mouth. He’s tugging harshly at your tresses, hips pistoning off of the bed, as he shamelessly thrusts into your mouth. The grip you hold on his balls tightens gently, making expletives fall from the man as you swallow around him. The deep timbre of his voice combined with the harshness of his thrusts and tugs on your hair has your core dripping with anticipation, your body screaming for him to be inside of every part of you.

Wonwoo’s eyes are hooded, gaze full of desire, and he’s watching you bob your head on his cock, swallowing around his girth and knowing that if he let you keep going he wasn’t going to last much longer. So with your hair in his hands, he’s tugging you off of him with a snarl, his grip moving to latch onto your hips as he all but throws you on your back. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of position but then you’re keening in delight as the tip of his cock prods at your dripping cunt, your hands reaching up to claw at his broad back.

“I’m not cumming until I’ve felt your cunt around me first.”

The bite of his words sends another wave of heat flowing through you, your body completely lighting on fire as he guides himself to push past your folds, your lips parting in pleasure as your cunt swallows the thick girth of him. Your nails are clawing at his broad shoulders as Wonwoo’s teeth grit together, his nose brushing against yours as he slides in until he’s completely sheathed to the hilt.

“God, take me,” you moan, wantonly – shamelessly. “Make me yours.”

A cocky smirk dances across your boss’s lips as he draws his hips back, sharp eyes drinking in your naked form as he coos at the sight.

“You want to be mine, sweetheart?” He asks, teasingly. His lips ghost over yours as he moves to grip your wrists in his hands, effectively pinning them above your head. “You think you deserve it?”

A defiant look crosses your features as you peered up at him, a deep frown on your lips as you dig your nails into his skin in retaliation.

“I’m the only one who deserves it.”

Wonwoo’s gaze bores into yours, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk before his hips slam into yours, your back arching at the contact and your nails digging into his wrists as he all but hammers into you.

“Wonwoo – oh, fuck – !”

He’s mouthing hotly at your bouncing breasts before his teeth clamp around your nipple, tweaking the bud with his tongue as his hips pistoned into yours. Cries of his name fall from your lips as he thrusts relentlessly, sharp eyes peeking over the mounds of your breasts as your body stays arched in pleasure. He’s relishing in the sight, a smirk of satisfaction playing at his lips as he licks his way up your neck, lips hotly pressing into yours as his tongue delves into your mouth.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your lips, teeth biting onto the flesh as he tugs. “Mine.”

He briefly lets go of your wrists only so that he can grip your thigh with one hand, the other keeping your hands pinned above your head. He’s positioning your leg over his shoulder, his body descending onto yours as he rolls his hips, a groan escaping him as your cunt clenches deliciously around him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, completely lost in the intense pleasure of him as he grips onto your calf. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he speeds up once more, teeth gritting with pleasure as he sucks a mark into the sensitive spot on your neck. Your hips rise from the bed as you try to match his movements, a cry of his name falling from you when the head of his cock brushes against a spot that has you seeing stars.

“Right there!” You cry, clenching mercilessly around him. “God, Wonwoo, don’t stop!”

His grip on your leg loosens as he reaches down to press the pad of his thumb against your clit, a sinister smirk painted on his lips as he looks down at you.

“How’s it feel, sweetheart?” He asks, hips speeding up as he thumbs harshly at the sensitive bud. “Knowing that I’m all yours? That I’m only yours.”

You’re writhing beneath him, thrashing under his body in pleasure as his ministrations on your clit grow more erratic. Your vision is blurred with tears of ecstasy, Wonwoo’s name falling from your lips like a broken mantra, and you can only grip his hand as the heat in the pit of your stomach grows with every thrust.

“S- so good,” you stuttered out, completely lost in the feeling of him. “You’re mine, baby. Only mine.”

The term of endearment earns you a growl of approval, Wonwoo prying your lips apart with his mouth as his tongue licks along yours.

“Yeah?” His voice is deep, the timbre laced with husk as he licks into your mouth. “My cock is all yours, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You keen at his words, a whine falling from your lips as your thighs quiver with pleasure.

“All mine,” you affirm, moaning. Wonwoo smirks against your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he thumbs at your clit with vigor.

“And this is all for me, isn’t it?” His question is spoken into your mouth, tongue sweeping over yours as his hips slam into yours.

“Only you, baby,” you whine, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “I’m yours.”

Wonwoo growls at that, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as he lets go of your hands – only to grab you by the throat as he lifts you up until your chest is pressed flush against his. Your lips part in surprise at the change of position, one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as the other fists through his locks, your cunt clenching around him as the new angle drives him to be completely sheathed inside of you as he sits back on his legs to hold you up.

“Damn right, you’re mine.”

Wonwoo’s words are muffled against your lips, the man looking down at you with a fierce glint as his thumb presses to your throat, effectively cutting off the air to your lungs and making your breath hitch. You clutch desperately at his tresses, your nails clawing at the skin of his back as he drills his cock inside of you, his free hand reaching back in between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit as he urges you to cum.

Your lips are parted in a silent cry, the stimulation between his thumb and his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge as your thighs clench around his hips, your back arching in a way that has your chest pressing into his, and the lack of air in your lungs has your head reeling in ecstasy as your high washes over you in a violent wave. You’re trembling beneath his ministrations, your cunt clenching deliciously around Wonwoo’s length as he coos at you, his thumb releasing off of your throat as you gasp.

“Mm, my good girl,” he praises, hands clutching your hips. “Where do you want me?”

The relentless drills of his hips against yours has you fighting to catch your breath as you struggle to answer him. Wonwoo’s rhythm grows erratic as he nears closer, your body arching into his movements as you clutch his shoulders in order to stay upright.

“My – my mouth,” you manage to breathe out, making Wonwoo smirk in anticipation.

You almost regret answering him when you feel him pulling out of you, the brisk air hitting your now empty cunt as Wonwoo settles you on your knees. His hand encases around your head as he pushes past your parted lips, groaning when his cock hits your tongue. You mewl around him, jaw slack and eyes locked on his as your tongue laps lazily at his leaking tip, swallowing every last drop of his release. His fingers tangle in your hair as he thrusts harshly into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat as he cums. A hum of delight escapes you as you lewdly lap up the remnants of his release, your name falling from his lips as he tilts his head back in ecstasy.

His glasses slid off the bridge of his nose from the beads of sweat that had collected there and landed carelessly next to you on the bed, his sharp eyes softening into a look that was nothing short of adoration. His fingers release their grip on your tresses as his hands cup your face, his cock sliding out of your mouth as he lifts you to slot his lips against yours.

Humming against your mouth, Wonwoo’s thumbs graze your cheeks as he draws back to look into your eyes.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your heart swells in your chest as you relish in his touch, your body completely spent from the intensity you had just experienced, and your eyes hood over in exhaustion as Wonwoo gingerly lays you back against the pillows. The warmth of his body envelops yours as he holds you close to him. A half-hearted smile paints itself on your lips as you reach up to trace the outline of his lips, a hint of sadness ghosting over your expression.

“You realize this means I can’t work for you anymore, right?”

Your soft murmur makes Wonwoo frown, and you almost whimper with hurt at the crestfallen look on his face.

“I know,” he answers quietly, offering you a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m losing you.”

Wonwoo turns his head to meet your softening expression, his gaze boring into yours as he clutches you to him.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he continues, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I will take care of you, (Y/N). I will fix any damage I’ve done to your career, to your reputation – just as long as I get to keep you in my life… If you even want me after all of this.”

“How could I not want you?” You asked, quietly. “You are everything and more to me, Wonwoo. It just took me a couple years to realize it.”

Wonwoo chuckles at that before leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Even if I cost you your job?”

You purse your lips at that, pretending to think before looking up at him in amusement.

“I can think of some ways you could make it up to me,” you teased, making Wonwoo growl playfully. “Starting with a bath – hey!”

Wordlessly you’re being lifted in his arms, a shriek of surprise escaping you as Wonwoo tosses you over his shoulder, effortlessly carrying you into your adjoining bathroom.

“That can be arranged.”

[15 new messages]

From: Soonyoung Hey honey! Just a heads up… Wonwoo asked for your address. Don’t know why or what for but I gave it to him so expect a visit from him soon… ... But I’m gonna assume it’s for what I think it is… … so you’re welcome ;)

From: Joshua Soonyoung just told me Wonwoo is going to your house USE PROTECTION!!! I'M NOT READY TO BE AN UNCLE ;_;

From: Gyu Wonwoo is missing He left the office hours ago and hasn’t come back (Y/N)???? Hello???? This is a serious matter!!!! Where are you??!?!?!?? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Just because you called out sick doesn’t mean you can ignore ~me~ your friend!!!!

To: Gyu She’s busy

From: Gyu I – OH??? MY GOD???????? IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME YOU TWO!!!! Also – ew Don’t ever send me a picture like that ever again

Epilogue

“How are the reports looking, Mrs. Jeon?”

Lifting your head from the pile of papers lining the table, your gaze falls on your boss as he walks inside the conference room, a warm smile on his face. Offering him an encouraging one back, you gesture towards the pile in front of you as you lean back against your chair.

“Everything we’ve discussed is in order and ready to go for the presentation.”

Your boss grins, dimples indenting in his cheeks.

“I knew I could count on you.”

The conference room door opens behind your boss, your eyes darting to the tall stature who was now leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest as his sharp gaze falls on you.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

No matter how many times he calls you that or how much time passes by with you waking up to him every morning, your husband’s voice never fails to send an array of butterflies abuzz in your stomach. You can’t help but to let a salacious smile grace your lips as you bat your eyes at Wonwoo.

“Mr. Jeon,” you greet, flirtily. “Looking mighty handsome as always.”

Wonwoo clears his throat, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare as he gestures towards your boss.

“You’re lucky Seungcheol is here,” he tuts, shaking his head. “Otherwise I’d have you over this desk –”

“Hey, hey!” Seungcheol cuts off your husband, waving an accusing finger at him. “No flirting with my assistant during work hours!”

Wonwoo holds his hands up in defense as he backs up from Seungcheol, a wide grin on his lips as he bows apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ll behave.”

His words promise good behavior, but the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes say another as he sits across from you at the table, his heated gaze never leaving yours. From beside him, the younger man who had taken a seat next to him had a grin on his face as he peered over at his boss, eyes looking back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Jeon,” he greets, making you beam at him.

“It’s good to see you too, Chan,” you grinned. “I hope my husband hasn’t been running you ragged like he had done with me.”

Chan laughs softly, eyes twinkling with humor as he shakes his head.

“Nothing I’m not already used to.”

It had been two years since you had left Wonwoo’s office and became Seungcheol’s assistant.

In hindsight, Joshua had been right about how casual and common it was for a CEO to have some kind of relation with their assistant.

Despite your acceptance of the notion that you could lose your job for pursuing a relationship that exceeded company policy, HR hadn’t batted an eye when you and Wonwoo had confronted them. They simply brushed it off, insisting that it wasn’t uncommon for such a thing to happen between two people who were constantly in such close quarters with one another. And though you would have loved to continue working with your boss - now husband - it was in your best judgment to resign as his assistant and to look elsewhere.

You loved the job, you really did. But continuing to work for the man who you slept next to every night didn’t sit right with you – especially when you knew how fussy other co-workers were when it came to workplace relationships. So rather than wanting to deal with whispers of gossip behind your back, you had taken Seungcheol’s offer in becoming his assistant instead – much to your husband’s dismay.

“If you so much as even look at her in any way that’s not professional or business-like, I’ll ruin your career faster than you can blink.”

Seungcheol gulps, nodding furiously to the taller man who was currently holding him by the collar.

“Noted.”

Seungcheol claps his hands together, breaking your intense eye contact with your husband as you reluctantly look towards your boss.

“Alright,” he beams, looking at the occupants at the table. “Let's get this ball rolling.”

You have always prided yourself on your stellar work ethic. You always paid attention during meetings, took notes when it was needed, and made mental notes of things that could be bookmarked and used for later projects. But that sufficient work ethic always flew right out the window when it involved the man sitting across from you.

You’re peering at your husband from the corner of your eye, biting back a laugh as you smirk slightly. Adjusting your posture, you’re leaning back against the chair while you stretch your legs out underneath the table, discarding one of your heels as you let your foot graze against Wonwoo’s calf. You press your lips together in a line to fight back a grin, stifling a giggle at the desire that was now pooling in the darkened eyes of your husband as he subtly reaches down to grab your leg.

“Stop it,” he mouths, making you feign a look of innocence.

“I’m not doing anything,” you mouthed back, making Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow into a glare.

He’s trapping your leg between his toned thighs, a move which he almost instantly regretted as you flexed your foot to press against the hardening bulge in his slacks, the CEO sucking in a breath as he all but clutches your ankle in retaliation. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he sends you a look of warning only to grit his teeth in annoyance as you peered away from him with a smile, keeping your focus on Seungcheol as he spoke.

Wonwoo’s heated gaze stays locked on you throughout the meeting, sharp eyes glaring from behind his thick rimmed glasses as he shifts uncomfortably for the next hour. And once Seungcheol had declared a brief break, he’s pushing your leg away from him and stomping out of the conference room. Chan’s eyes widened in alarm at his boss’s abrupt exit, the assistant beginning to stand before you’re holding your hand up, halting him from following after your husband.

“I’ve got him, Chan,” you reassured the man, smiling brightly. “You know he gets in those moods sometimes.”

Not waiting for a reply, you’re stifling a laugh as you walk out of the room, gaze scanning over the office before you’re heading towards the elevator. But before you can even make it halfway, you’re being pulled into a doorway, your back pressed up against a wall as Wonwoo glares down at you, his body towering over yours.

An amused glint is in your eyes as you grinned up at your husband.

“You really pulled me into a supply closet?” You asked, and Wonwoo reached to grab your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Getting me hard while I’m trying to focus on the meeting.”

You feign a look of innocence as you reach for his belt buckle, pulling him in until he’s pressed flush against you.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you drawl, flirtily. Wonwoo smirks as he drops his hands from your face, opting to grip your thighs instead as he lifts you up and presses you back into the wall.

“Such a naughty girl,” he tsk’s, rolling his hips into yours as you tighten your legs around him.

“You love it,” you tease, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Wonwoo’s gaze softens momentarily, his face lighting up as he adoringly stares at you.

“I love you,” he corrects.

Leaning forward he’s connecting your lips, kissing you slowly as he pours his emotions into it — into you. You hum against his mouth, your hands reaching up to run through his hair as you kiss him back. His tongue slips between the seam of your lips before meeting yours, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he licks into your mouth.

“We have to get back,” you murmur, making Wonwoo groan, your husband squeezing your ass playfully as he rocks against you.

“I’ll come up with an excuse,” he mutters and you chuckle against his mouth before pulling away.

“This is an important meeting, baby,” you retort, making Wonwoo — big bad CEO, Jeon Wonwoo — form the most adorable pout as he looks down at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy.

“But I only want to be around you.”

Giggling quietly, you reach up to cup his face as you kiss him softly, nuzzling your nose against his.

“If you can make it through the next two hours, I’ll fuck you in the back of the limo on the way home.”

Wonwoo laughs at your words, his head tilting back happily before he kisses you with a smile.

“First off, it’s going to be me fucking you,” he points out, letting you place your feet back down on the floor. “Which I was planning on doing after the meeting anyways.”

You grin at him, laughing happily as you readjust your clothing.

“Great minds think alike, I guess,” you jest, and Wonwoo mirrors your grin as he leads you out of the supply closet.

With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he’s leaning down to press a kiss against your temple, lips brushing your ear.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, making your heart soar in happiness as you beamed in delight.

“I love you too, Wonwoo.”

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader

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